Snake Tales Caboolture Morayfield & District RSL Sub-Branch Inc. Web Site www.cmdrsl.com.au Newsletter Autumn 2019 Newsletter Editor: Warren Baker

President’s Report I have had considerable difficulty putting this report together as I have outlined below. However, let me welcome 2019 and hopefully we will all have a great year, although I think it will probably be more of the same. Both the military and the RSL have been under attack in the last year and it doesn’t seem to be getting any better. Soldiers are being taken to court to justify their actions in the heat of battle and Airmen are being blamed for civilian casualties in bombing attacks directed by our allies on the ground. The Productivity Commission has released a draft report that, if implemented will see DVA disappear along with many of the benefits currently provided to those service personnel who have returned from active service. A life in the services today is quite different from my time in the military and almost diametrically opposed to the days of our forefathers. Everyone seems to know the RSL badge, but it seems that the majority of people believe that it represents poker machines and beer. It is therefore difficult to counter some of the misinformation and outright false facts that are appearing in the newspapers and on television. The RSL has an important role to play in the support of serving and ex serving members of the defence force and I can assure you that this is our primary focus. With a dwindling active membership and the attacks from all sides it is our role as members of the RSL to keep the League’s name and its ongoing achievements to the forefront of public awareness. We need to raise our profile, be proud of our efforts and not be reticent in “blowing our own trumpet”. If you get the chance to speak to your non RSL friends and neighbours please pass on to them what the RSL is doing for ex-service personnel and the community as a whole. Last year this sub branch provided nearly $23,000 in donations to service and ex-service personnel, war widows and schools in our area and we are looking to increase that amount this year. We ran the Anzac Day and Remembrance Day activities for the community and participated in a number of community events. We are out there and doing things but we must tell the community what we are doing and ensure the RSL flag is flying high. Glenn Willmann and myself undertake a radio interview on a monthly basis on FM101.5 usually on a Friday morning so get your friends to listen in and find out what we are doing. Finally, as I mentioned earlier there are many people out there in the Caboolture community that do not know the difference between the RSL Club and the RSL Sub-Branch. Please make it a point as a sub- branch members to educate the public on this issue and emphasise the assistance they can provide us to identify those ex-service personnel in need. Bruce Miller President Sub Branch Centenary Dinner Date: Saturday 29 June 2019 Venue: RSL Services Club Chisel Room Time: 1800 for 1830 – dinner served 1900 Dress: Dinner/Lounge Suit for men Evening/Cocktail for ladies Mess dress if uniform Miniature Medals Cost: $75 (TBC) per head Includes:3 course sit down dinner Beer/Wine/Soft Drinks/OJ – BYO spirits Music: Mood music during dinner – dancing o/c

The Totally and Permanently Incapacitated (TPI) Federation Made a submission to The Royal Commission into Aged Care Quality and Safety. I have scanned part of it in relation to the loss of DVA Gold Card Benefits if you or your Widow take up residence in a Residential Aged Care Facility (RACF). (continued on the following page)

as to the possibility of visiting Veterans, the door is closed. Most of these Vet- erans have relied on Veterans Organisations to be their ’security blanket’ and to ensure they have the correct entitlement and benefits they are due.

The major reason for a visit from as Ex-Service Organisation is to provide the Camaraderie they have had for years similar to what they had during the time they were enlisted. Who is going to look after the Veteran now? Certainly not the RACFs. The Government as a result of the way the MyAgedCare system is designed, is denying these Veterans and War Widows their rights to all the above. This is, what TPI Federation believes to be the situation, it is in fact mental abuse and a denial of the Veterans human rights.

Kate Nesbitt receives the from the Prince of Wales during investitures at Buckingham Palace in London.

She stands precisely 5ft tall in her everyday shoes and her smile is dis- armingly sweet. Kate Nesbitt doesn't immediately fit the image of a fearless military hero, not off the battlefield at least. But there are probably few people a critically injured soldier would rather meet in the chaos of a desert gunfight than this 21-year old blonde in full flight. Kate Nesbitt receives the Military Cross from the Prince of Wales during investitures at Buckingham Palace in London. And the sight of her sprinting through an Afghan war zone under heavy machine gun fire is almost certainly one that Lance Corporal John List will remember for the rest of a life he now owes to her astonishing display of courage Kate, a medical assistant serving as an Able Seaman with the , raced 70 yards to the stricken soldier's side as he nearly choked to death from a gunshot wound to the mouth. She cut open a temporary air- way and treated him for 45 minutes as rockets whizzed overhead and bullets thudded into the ground nearby. Yesterday her 'inspirational' bravery was rewarded at Buckingham Palace when she became the Navy's first woman to be invested with the Military Cross. Then, with a few modest words, she underlined the remarkable spirit of loyalty that bonds Britain's servicemen and women on the front line. 'I promised my friends and comrades I'd be their medic,' she said. 'I promised I'd be there if they ever needed me. They needed me that day - so when the call came, that's just what I did.' Kate, from Whitleigh, , stepped into the history books as only the second woman to be awarded the MC, one of Britain's highest gallantry awards, as well as becoming the only MC Wren. Presenting her award, the Prince of Wales bowed to what he called her 'extraordinary' heroism. Her citation read: 'Under fire and under pressure her commitment and courage were inspirational and made the difference between life and death.

Roll of Honour We honour those members who have gone before us . At the going down of the sun, and in the morning, we will remember them LEST WE FORGET

None advised

Ex-servicemen and women are reminded that they are entitled to the honour of having their casket draped with the Australian flag. Members should acquaint their families with this, so that arrangements can be made accordingly with the appropriate Funeral Director.

Important Notices and Useful Information

GREATER RECOGNITION FOR VETERANS AND THEIR FAMILIES NEW legislation introduced into Federal Parliament will provide better recognition of the unique nature of military service and further acknowledge the service and sacrifice of veterans and their families. The Government’s Australian Veterans’ Recognition (Putting Veterans and their Families First) Bill 2019 will establish an Australian Defence Veterans’ Covenant, and as part of a wider recognition package, a card and lapel pin will be provided to veterans. Minister for Veterans’ Affairs Darren Chester said it was a project he has been working on with ex- service organisations since becoming the Minister almost 12 months ago. “The Government has introduced this legislation to provide a formal way for all Australians to show their appreciation to the men and women who secured the freedoms we enjoy today and to their families who have supported them,” Mr Chester said. “I have consulted extensively with the ex-service community on the development of this Bill, including discussions with our 5-Eyes counterparts in the who have put in place similar measures. “The covenant, card and lapel pin will allow the community — whether they are employers, businesses, community groups, veteran or sporting organisations — the opportunity to recognise the service and sacrifice of the men and women who have served our nation. “Our government is committed to putting veterans and their families first and this legislation is part of a greater suite of measures we are putting in place. “This Bill will create a separate Act to provide symbolic recognition for all veterans, and does not change current entitlements.” “Importantly, the Bill before Parliament includes a statement requiring the Department of Veterans’ Affairs (DVA) to adopt a beneficial approach when interpreting legislation and applying a fair, just and consistent approach to veterans’ claims. It’s part of our ongoing efforts to transform the culture of DVA.” The Government has received a positive response from businesses which are supportive of the recognition program. The covenant includes an oath, which all Australians will be encouraged to take at community commemorative events, and is underpinned by the new Veteran Card and an Australian Veteran Lapel Pin and a Reservist Lapel Pin. Courtesy: Ray Payne Veteranweb Network

This story was written by Corporal Francis Munro Fraser It is printed in the book The 61st Battalion 1938-1945

The Queensland Cameron Highlanders’ War by James Watt Of the 22 men aboard Bronzewing, 11 were killed in the initial battle or later at the hands of the Jap- anese marines. CSM Jock McMillan was one of those captured and killed. Cpl Frank Fraser of 17 Platoon described his own drama: I remember how it was, those nights on the Ahioma coast; the way that fat moon used to jump up over the bush; when you rolled a smoke and sat quietly on the deck and watched the sea-mist creep around Milne Bay. On nights like that, you heard fish jumping in the bay and the palms chafing in the breeze, because the other men of Company D were only red points of cigarettes around you, or a dim cough and muttered con- versations below-decks. Even when we cast off and the ketch Bronzewing was plugging towards Gili Gili the noises were subdued so that they seemed a natural part of the calm night – except for the dinghy that was short-hauled to the stern and bounced and wiggled angrily in the ketch’s wake. I stopped watching the dinghy while I took off my webbing equipment and draped it over my Thompson sub- machine gun. When I looked up again, there were sliding dark shapes between the Bronzewing and the shore. Other men saw them and spoke querulously, so that there was a general stirring of bodies. The moon slid out of a cloud-net and the low dark shapes with the hump aft became Japanese landing barges. They fanned out in precise formation and the first burst of fire rammed home the realisation that we were surrounded. The company Sergeant-Major McMillan ordered us not to return fire; he needn’t have both- ered. Men were already jumping overboard, some in greatcoats that spread wide in mid-air; the rest of us were diving for shelter as bullets ricocheted across the deck. I jumped towards the companionway, hearing laughter as the Japanese used machine-guns to hose the men who were swimming. There were two corporals and a private in the cabin and they sweated while I told them what was happening above. I finished tearing off my boots and leggings, but I still hadn’t convinced the two corporals that we had to have a go at escaping. Private Bateman was undecided until the skylight dropped piecemeal into the cabin. Glass sliced his chin and he cried out but not only because of the glass. A bullet had drilled into his right shoulder and he knew it was really time to get out. I ran through the engine-room and up onto the forward deck, using the bulk of heaped tents as cover while I looked over the side. All but one of the Japanese barges had withdrawn, but that one was approaching fast from the seaward side. I tumbled back into the cabin and if I cut my feet on the broken glass, I never felt it. I kept on going up and out to the stern deck, yelling to the three men that we still had a chance. Only Private Bateman followed me. We went over the side and there were men lying on the deck moaning hoarsely as they died. I had my body set to swim as I jumped and was shaken when my feet touched bottom, the water rising only waist-high. I bowed forward and floundered toward the beach, knowing that the Japanese barge would be almost along- side the ketch. It wasn’t until I made the first belt of undergrowth that I looked back. The barge was along- side the ketch all right, and I felt pretty bad about the two corporals. I eased back further into the bush when Bateman and private Crowther arrived, the latter telling me to hush and gesturing back the way he had come. We dropped down and drifted into cover. I crawled out ahead and saw what Crowther had seen and I knew why he had hushed me. I looked sort of sideways, like you have to at night, and saw Japanese moving along a road that ran parallel to the beach. There were not a lot of them, maybe a platoon, but I could see the white-patched backs that identified those who were officers. Them being there at all was bad enough, but the way they moved and chanted was even worse. In small groups, they would rise, jog ahead thirty yards, then squat. It was like some murderous ritual and it continued right down the line as more of them came into sight. All the time, the chanting was coming shrill and nasal from the jerky moving figures that broke up ragged-edge puddles of moonlight on the road. I moved away from that road and my guts felt cold and oily. Twigs crackled behind me and I rolled and twist- ed, facing the noise. It wasn’t the Japanese, it was Bateman with Crowther. We started back towards the beach and it was then that we heard the Japanese searching. The three of us split up and went into hiding.

I lay face-down breathing the rotting smell of the jungle carpet, thinking without hope of my people back in Brisbane, wondering how my girl and my parents would react to the news that I was “Missing, believed killed in action”. I was lying beside a fallen tree and tried to melt into it, to become part of it and the stinking layer of mould on the ground. There was movement all around me, but I moved only to breathe. Grass and leaves swished and I knew that cautious men were probing the shadows, but I dared not lift my head to see whether they were friends or enemies. On the other side of the tree, someone grunted and something clicked. I stopped breathing com- pletely and tried to stop the thudding noises of my heart. There was no sound for an eternity of seconds. Then someone moved away. I breathed with my mouth open and dry, power oozing out of me with sudden sweat that itched into my eyes. As a corporal, I knew I had to try to locate Bateman and Crowther; but I couldn’t do it, not just then. It was the leeches that got me moving again. I felt something move on my arm, squirming; I brushed it and a gorged leech fell off, leaving a blot on my arm that looked black in the moonlight. There were more of them looping over my bare legs, or already fixed and drinking. I battled them off and started through the dark and dripping foliage, hearing only the plopping droplets of water that made the otherwise-silent bush huge and awful in its stillness. I found Bateman and Crowther, all right; I didn’t see them, but I heard them. And I knew what the Japanese had done to Australian prisoners at Wide Bay, in New Britain. The screams came from only fifty yards away, from the men who were roped to trees and being used for bayonet practice. I knew that as clearly as if I could see them and I knew I’d be one of them if I didn’t get into the deep bush on the other side of the road. There was another scream, hoarse and high, and I felt my own throat tightening. I moved off again, quick and quiet. It wasn’t until I came to a thinly-wooded belt of bush that I saw my chance. The road swung to the right and I could see no-one, hear nothing, except the moist breathing of the wet foliage. I waited, listening, looking and maybe smelling because I had the cries of the roped-up men inside my head and I was using everything I had, not to be one of them. I sprinted across the road, hurtled into the wall of undergrowth, and ploughed forward until I reached the creek. It wasn’t much of a creek, just one of those winding soft talking little streams that laced the New Guinea jungles at the bottom of overgrown ravines. But it gave me a direction, something to follow in that smother- ing blackness. So I followed, although I was staggering now and wanting an end to the muck underfoot and the pushing and sliding and fighting through the bush. When I did stop to rest, I felt automatically for my tobacco and papers. I opened the tin and found it full of bad-smelling thick syrup. I poured the mess onto the ground, thinking bitterly how unfair it was that a man couldn’t even have a smoke. I lay down and dropped into a twitching, light doze. The sound of thunder dragged me up onto my lacerated feet. I looked back towards the Bay and I knew it wasn’t thunder, because each rumble was followed by a crumping explosion and bursts of red light that ruptured the darkness and silhouetted the trees. With that blasting of the beach, it was possible that the Japanese intended to make a rapid advance, so I scraped off the leeches and the decaying matter that I slept on and headed up-stream again. The narrow ravine became even more pinched together and I found a spur that led to high ground. My legs were as shaky as a new-born foal’s but I kept going on and on. The first pale light of dawn showed that the bush was smokey with mist; it also took away some of the terror of the night, although I flinched when I saw a wet-backed grey lizard wriggle into the saturated grass. By daylight, I was on top of the razorback ridge and I looked behind and down to the Bay. There was fog on the water, but I could see the blocky superstructure of the warships and transports and I could hear the roar and rumble of land vehicles. And then I heard the hornet whine of aircraft. A squadron of Kittyhawks came in low over the beach strafing the area established by the Japanese. I cheered out loud, cheered the RAAF and cursed the Japanese until I became hoarse and remembered where I was. Too close, still much too close. I went on again, keeping the sound of firing on my left as I headed west. The ridge sagged and broke into gullies and ravines that were choked with lawyer-cane, those fish-hook type plants that were called “wait-a- whiles”. My bare legs and feet suffered most, although the thorns seemed deliberately to gaff me all over.

My pace had slowed to an agonised, weaving stagger, and the increasing heat of the sun made sweat run stinging- ly into the punctured flesh. I heard firing again – from the right. I stopped. Firing, from the right, meant that my progress had been in a circle and I was back near the creek again. There was more firing and more noise of engines and my own fear sharpened my awareness. This time, I didn’t even try to find an easy way through the ooze of the bush and the eager wait-a-whiles. I took my bearings and went ahead in as straight a line as I could. The sun had climbed to ten o’clock when I came out of the deep bush and onto the thickly-grassed knoll where I dropped to my belly in the grass when I saw the road and the tent. Just a muddy narrow road and a single tent. I tried to work out if that meant Australians or Japanese. I couldn’t tell from the tent which was sagging and torn. I staked it and saw that earth had been gouged out of the road, leaving that hole a grenade makes. Inside the tent was the sad untidiness left by men who had dropped everything and run. I found a tin box and water filled my mouth while I clawed it open, thinking of nothing but food. It was silly, but there was a packet of cellophane- wrapped cigarettes and a box of matches in the tin. Now, when my belly was rumbling, I had a smoke! I looked out through a hole slashed in the canvas and I saw the Japanese, two of them, an officer and a private with a rifle and fixed bayonet that winked in the sun. They stopped, so close, I could see the red tabs on the tall officer’s collar, his bright green uniform looking as if it had been dry cleaned that day and his samurai sword looking wickedly well-cared for. The officer lit a cigarette as he gestured towards the Bay and at the same time, I grabbed my packet and the matches and crawled out the back of the tent. I kept the tent between myself and the Japanese until I was back in the bush again but it was a long time before I dared to stop and light a cigarette. It tasted good, but it made me dizzy and reminded me that I had not seen even a banana tree so far. I stubbed the cigarette out and covered it with a handful of muck, just in case a Japanese patrol came that way. Then I headed west again. I came out of a sago swamp with ropy threads of slime wrapped around my thighs and stopped to scrape off the leeches. The high blaze of the sun had just started to slide down west when I walked into a village garden and hid. There were paw-paw trees and tapioca but I first noticed the green “elephant ears” of the taro as that was where I was hiding. I crawled between the purple-brown stems until I saw the village, a haphazard collection of thatched huts. I must have been careless or noisy because two women looked up from where they squatted on the edge of the garden. One of them walked straight towards me, a tall woman with frizzed-out hair and a short grass skirt. I stood up, shorter than her, and saw bright tears fill her eyes as she looked at my ripped and grossly swollen legs. The woman led me to a hut and I collapsed onto the woven floor mats near the central stone fireplace. The two women spoke to me but I knew nothing of their language so one of them quickly left the hut. The other squat- ted in the corner shaking her head and click-clicking her tongue each time she looked at my legs and feet. I heard a pig grunt outside then the low doorway of the hut darkened. Two tall brown men, in fibre G-strings and coloured berry necklaces, straightened up and looked at me in astonishment. I tried to phrase in pidgin but they smiled and jabbered to one another until they sent one of the women out of the hut. They sat down near me, then I told them I wanted to be led to Gili Gili. In pidgin the younger man told me that he would take me to KB Mission instead, all the time gesturing towards my legs. Now that I had a chance to see how they were festering, they looked pretty bad. I tried to argue but the brown man insisted that “Number One Good-feller at KB Mission” and I believed him. I lay back on the mats as the women came into the hut with water and a banana leaf wrapped around some boiled taro. She put these beside me and retreated to a position near the wall. I still wanted to talk but the brown man laid his big hand on my shoulder and smiled very gently, while he nodded at the food and water. I drank some water and started to chew a lump of the bluish grey taro. Around me the native voices were soft and thick and the hut was drowsy-warm. I knew that I would be all right.

This story was written by Corporal Francis Munro Fraser and is printed in the book THE 61ST BATTALION 1938-1945 The Queensland Cameron Highlanders’ War by James Watt. The 61st Australian Infantry Battalion (AIF) Milne Bay – Madang – Bougainville

A CAMERON NEVER YIELDS

Sub-Branch Committee - 2018 / 2019 Our regular mailing address is:~ Patron Mr. Gordon Parker The Secretary Caboolture-Morayfield & District President Bruce Miller RSL Sub-Branch Inc. PO Box 166 Vice President Greg Hansen OAM CABOOLTURE QLD 4510 Vice President Glenn Willmann OAM Tel: (07) 5353-9164 between 10am and 1pm, after 1pm please leave a message at Secretary Bruce Fraser the front desk on (07) 5495-1699 Assistant Secretary Email: [email protected] Treasurer David John Committee Tony DiPede Ray Pyne John Boag Brian Manns Horrie Hunt Ron Court BNRD Delegate Horrie Hunt Alternate Delegate Bruce Miller Welfare Co Ord Tony Di Pede Sub-Branch Advocate Peter Carey Preserving the memory of those who have fallen for our country. Pensions Officer Tony Di Pede For further information, contact Phil Wolfenden John Boag 0439 613 093 Welfare Officers Glenn Willmann OAM Ron Court The Sub-Branch needs your help: Can you donate one hour per month of your time to visit a an ex-service man or woman in a local care facility. We are currently expanding our visits programme to cover more of the care facilities in our area. To do this we need our members to volunteer a small amount of their time once a month or even every two months to have morning tea and a chat with our aging compatriots. The Sub-branch is updating its volunteer list for assistance with Sausage sizzles, Badge sales, Hospital / Nursing home visits, Welfare-pensions. If you can spare a few hours a month please fill in the attached and return. Please email (above) to the Sub-branch or better still come into the office.

NAME & PHONE BADGE SALES SAUSAGE WELFAREPENSIONS HOSPITAL VISITS SIZZLES

Photocopying of this Newsletter courtesy of Mark Ryan, MP - State Member for Morayfield

Darwin’s Submarine - The Imperial Japanese Navy’s I-124 By Dr Tom Lewis Outside Darwin’s harbour, a Japanese submarine still lies with her 80-man crew on board. Today, the 20th January, is the anniversary of her sinking in 1942. She is part of the secret history of the assaults on northern Australia. The aircraft carriers of the famous Febru- ary 1942 strike were not the first major attack on the Australian landmass. They were the second strike – the first attempt to close down the northern port was made a month earlier with a submarine squadron. In January 1942 four I Class Submarines of the Sixth Submarine Squadron’s Imperial Japanese Navy were deployed to northern Australian waters. Darwin was a harbour of considerable strategic importance. Sweeping south after the assault on Pearl Harbour, and carrying all before them, the Japanese knew the deployment of any Allied warships or aircraft from the northern port would be a dangerous attack on their right flank as they drove east to secure New Guinea. Built by Kawasaki Heavy Industries, the four submarines of the Sixth Submarine Squadron were armed with twelve torpedoes in four 21-inch bow tubes and a foredeck 5.5-inch gun. They carried 42 mines, launched through torpedo doors in the stern. Under the leadership of Commander Endo, they made their way south, and deployed quietly around Bathurst and Melville Island. On the morning of 20 January one of the submarines attacked the US Navy fleet oiler USS Trinity with three torpedoes. The tanker was escorted by two destroyers. As the torpedoes were seen the USS Alden turned and launched depth charges. The response was unsuccessful, and the destroyer lost the contact and broke off the attack. But the alarm was given in Darwin. Later the Australian corvette Deloraine (see Next page) was searching near the scene with sonar. The Bathurst -class vessel, commanded by Lieutenant-Commander Desmond Menlove, was a newly launched ship, and her first action was nearly her last. Deloraine was ambushed by the I-124. Frank Marsh, a stoker on the vessel, re- membered seeing: "...the trail of the torpedo which missed our stern so closely that the wake thrown up by the propellers actually caused the torpedo to come out of the raised sea surface.” The torpedo streaked towards the corvette. Deloraine turned right inside the torpedo’s course. It missed the ship’s stern by metres. Then she charged straight down the weapon’s track. An attack commenced with pat- terns of depth charges exploding astern of the warship as she wheeled and swooped as directed by her sonar. Then a Deloraine bridge lookout reported the submarine was breaking the surface, and abruptly the conning tower was seen ahead. Deloraine powered towards her enemy, and this time the depth charge explosion caught the submarine as it dived. Soon sonar confirmed it as motionless on the seabed. The boat's captain, Lieutenant Commander Koichi Kishigami, his division commander Endo, and 78 others were dead or trapped on board. Later the boom defence vessel HMAS Kookaburra was deployed to the site, and Australian divers attempted to find I-124. They were unsuccessful, and engaged the help of divers from the American submarine repair ship USS Holland. The divers found the submarine, several nautical miles south of Bathurst Island, with hatch gaskets blown out, suggesting the stern sections were flooded. Some reports claim that divers from the American ship Blackhawk descended and heard the Japanese crew, still inside, tapping on the hull. The Allies were interested in re- covery: taking the submarine's codebooks would be a great intelligence coup. Secretly the Navy began to make arrangements for recovery, moving personnel and equipment to Darwin in preparation. But three weeks later Darwin was struck a shattering blow by the same carrier task force that had devastated Pearl Harbor. It was now too dangerous to attempt recovery. However, the submarine was not to quietly lie in her grave. Controversy was the I-124 companion for the next 50 years. Strange stories and theories surround the wreck. One sought to connect the I-124 with a supposed Japanese submarine working with the German armed raider Kormoran which sank HMAS Sydney in Novem- ber 1941. Michael Montgomery, in Who Sank The Sydney? suggested a submarine was refuelling or re- arming Kormoran when the Sydney was sighted, dived to escape detection, and torpedoed the Australian cruis- er, winning the battle for the raider. Other stories say that a seaplane was sighted in the vicinity of the battle: many Japanese boats did carry folding planes in hangars on the foredeck. Suggestions have been made that a second submarine wreck – which some claim lies nearby – could be that alleged helper of the Kormoran; other stories have the I-124 itself involved as the Japanese submarine. Other fanciful theories suggest inside the wrecked boat the captain's safe contained an answer.

More than one source suggests codebooks were indeed recovered from the I-124, helping to win the Pacific war. Ed Drea in MacArthur’s Ultra wrote: Shortly after the outbreak of the Pacific War, US Navy divers had salvaged the Japanese Navy’s Water Transport “S” codebooks from a submarine that had been sunk off Darwin Australia in January 1942. With these documents in hand, navy cryptanalysts were able to read Japanese naval shipping messages In the 1950s the daughter of the sub’s commander, Atsuko Kishigami, began a campaign to have the submarine raised and its entombed bodies returned to Japan. The Japanese Fujita Salvage Company, then in Darwin salvaging the wrecks of ships still lying in the harbour, made a brief investigation into the proposal, before it was decided the costs were prohibitive. In 1972 local salvage operators Sid Hawks, Harry Baxter, George Tyers and John Chadderton began prelimi- nary salvage work on the submarine with three vessels. But ownership disputes arose between Baxter and the remaining three, including shots fired, and after a split the potential salvors were denied rights by the Federal Government and warned off the site. In 1976 Harry Baxter tried new recovery attempts, claiming his salvage attempts had penetrated the hull. By this time he had probably removed items from the exterior. He was warned off again and in a fit of pique went out with explosives to destroy the submarine. In November 1984 Navy divers from HMAS Curlew carried out descents to the boat to verify its condition: they reported the conning tower had been damaged, but the casing appeared undamaged and sealed. In 1989 the research vessel Flamingo Bay, captained by David Tomlinson, sent down a Remote Operated Vehicle: an unmanned mini-submarine equipped with a TV camera. The ROV sent back pictures of the I-124's conning tower, still upright but with a list to one side. With personnel from NT and WA museums involved, the Flamingo Bay operation hoped to dive the submarine for research purposes, but the project was eventually cancelled due to political considerations. Stories about I-124 continued to re-appear. Claims that a valuable cargo of mercury was present on board appeared in the media. Baxter continued to make claims about the submarine, saying he had “been arrested by ASIO.” His stories appeared in the popular magazine Australasian Post, stating that he had been visited by a Japanese ambassador from Washington, who was worried about the “ship’s safe.” Baxter died a little while later, taking any secrets to the grave. In February 2017 the 80 men entombed in the submarine were commemorated in Darwin’s Parliament House. The unveiling of a plaque, to be later installed on Casuarina Cliffs, was undertaken by the Japanese Ambassa- dor to Australia; federal Senator Nigel Scullion, and the Chief Minister of the NT, together with the President of the Australian-Japanese Association (NT). Mr Takashi Ootaki, grandson of crew member Petty Officer Second Class Ryohei Ootaki, made a short speech. WWII RAAF veteran, Mr Brian Winspear AO, who experienced the first Darwin air raid, was present in his uniform to reconcile with the Japanese Ambassador. Those attending were gifted with a paper crane to take away, which carried the name of a submariner. At 7pm, at the end of the event, 80 balloons were released outside to free the souls of the dead. I-124 still lies outside Darwin today. Strangely, she is less known to Australians than the three midget submarines which attacked Sydney Harbour also in 1942. But I-124 remains one of the country’s most interesting stories of the country at war: a tale of bravery on both sides, loss, and an insight into the secret war fought in Australia’s north. Dr Tom Lewis OAM is a military historian. One of his books is Darwin’s Submarine I-124, published by Avonmore. He served in the Royal Australian Navy, retiring as a lieutenant-commander.

Caboolture Morayfield & Districts RSL Sub-Branch 2019 Calendar of Activities

January July Jan No Meetings 11-Jul BNRD Dinner and Meeting 14-Jan Office Re opens 16-Jul Committee/General Meeting 28-Jan Australia Day holiday (office 24-Jul Visit Amberley Museum closed) 26-Jul Happy Hour February August TBA Anzac Day Meeting 18-Aug Vietnam Veterans Day (Sunday) 19-Feb Committee/General Meeting 20-Aug Committee/General Meeting 22-Feb Happy Hour 30-Aug Happy Hour

28-Feb Bus trip to Maryborough memorial March September 6-Mar Autumn Newsletter Mail out 2-Sep Spring Newsletter Mail out

16-Mar Bunning’s Sausage Sizzle 17-Sep Committee/General Meeting 19-Mar Committee/General Meeting 27-Sep Police Remembrance Service

29-Mar Happy Hour April October 15-18 Anzac Badge selling 5- Oct Bunning’s Sausage Sizzle 23-24 16-Apr Committee/General Meeting 7-Oct Queen’s Birthday 19-Apr Good Friday 15-Oct Committee/General Meeting 22-Apr Easter Monday 25-Oct Happy Hour 25-Apr Anzac Day (Thursday)

May November 19-May General Meeting/AGM 5-10 Nov Poppy Week 21-May Committee Meeting 11-Nov Remembrance Day 19-Nov Committee/General Meeting 29-Nov Happy Hour

June December 5-Jun Winter Newsletter Mail out Yearly Memberships expire on st the 31 Dec 15-Jun Bunning’s Sausage Sizzle 2-Dec Summer Newsletter Mail out 18-Jun Committee/General Meeting 10-Dec Committee & General Meeting 29-Jun Centenary Dinner (night) 14-Dec Christmas Luncheon 17-Dec Office closes

PLEASE NOTE ALL MEETINGS WILL BE HELD ON THE THIRD TUESDAY OF THE MONTH.