COASTWATCHERS: NO MORE SMELLING FLOWERS By Ken Wright People over impressed by spies and espionage are fond of quoting the observation attributed to the Napoleon Bonaparte when he estimated that a spy in the right place was worth twenty thousand troops. Perhaps he didn’t pay his spies enough as he won the Battle of Wagram then lost the battle of Waterloo, lost his attempt to take Moscow, lost his position as Emperor of France and was finally exiled to the island of Elba. However, his observation about the worth of spies was certainly correct when applied to the Coastwatching organisation in the Pacific during World War II. The original Australian model began in 1919 when selected personnel in coastal areas were organised on a voluntary basis to report in time of war any unusual or suspicious events along the Australian coastline. The concept was quickly extended to include Australian New Guinea as well as Papua and the Solomon Islands. In 1939 when World War II commenced, approximately 800 Coastwatchers came under the control of the Royal Australian Navy Intelligence Division. Lieutenant Commander Eric Feldt had operational control of the Coastwatchers in the north-eastern area of defence which encompassed Australian Mandated New Guinea, Papua, the Solomon Islands and Australia. Eric Feldt was previously a navy man but resigned to work for the Australian government in New Guinea. He grew to know and understand the island people, plantation managers and assorted government officials and they in turn came to know and trust him. Because of their trust in Feldt, when the war with Japan began many civilians opted to stay in New Guinea rather than be evacuated as the Japanese war machine advanced through the Pacific. They became Coastwatchers who, if caught, would receive no mercy from the Japanese and be executed. As part of the administration process, Lt Commander Feldt decided that the organisation needed a generic code name to distinguish the Coastwatchers activities from other naval intelligence activities that he also controlled within the Naval Intelligence Division. He chose ‘Ferdinand’ from a popular children’s book of the time about a Spanish bull that refused to fight and only wanted to sit quietly under his favourite tree and smell the flowers.1 ‘It was meant as a reminder to Coastwatchers that it was not their duty to fight and so draw attention to themselves, but to sit circumspectly and unobtrusively, gathering information.’ 2 One of those remarkable men who became a Coastwatcher was Malcolm Hugh Wright. He had been a patrol officer in New Guinea prior to World War Two and was described as a dark, cheerful young man with a soft voice, fluent in Pidgin English, with a flair for meticulous planning. He had a good sense of humour and was seen as a considerate and racially non discriminatory. In 1939, he resigned from the civil service and joined the Royal Australian Naval Volunteer Reserve [RANVR.] with the rank of Sub-Lieutenant for training in the Anti-Submarine Branch. When Rabaul in New Britain fell to the Japanese in January 1942, Wright applied to the Royal Australian Naval Intelligence Division expecting to be used in some capacity that would make use of his knowledge of the islands, the natives, their customs and his proficiency in Pidgin. Wright deliberately failed the anti–submarine course so he would have a greater chance of a transfer. His pleas were heard and he was ordered to report to Melbourne to meet Feldt who offered him a chance to return to New Britain as a Coastwatcher. Wright’s first covert assignment was to Adler Bay in New Britain where he was to gather intelligence on the Japanese build-up at Rabaul and to assess the attitude of the natives towards the Japanese which at the time was unknown. Reliance on the good will of the native population was essential for the planning and operation of any future covert landings and was to play a big part in all operations in the New Guinea and Solomon Islands campaigns. During the moonless night of 12 July 1942, a rubber dinghy was shoved off into the rough seas by two sailors from the United States submarine S42 about two miles off the north coast of Japanese occupied New Britain. ‘We’ll meet you next Saturday night for sure,’ called Lieutenant Commander Oliver Kirk from the submarines conning tower as the dinghy’s only occupant began paddling in what he hoped was the right direction towards the distant shore. The plan was for a landing north of Adler Bay but the heavy sea was making the going tough. As he got closer to land, the sound of pounding surf could be heard in the distance which he heard waves crashing against the cliffs at the northern end of the bay. Wright pulled hard on the oars to change direction away from potential disaster but the waves breaking over the dinghy made it unmanoeuvrable and swept the flimsy rubber craft ashore onto the rocky beach. Luckily, the dinghy wasn’t damaged and Wright was able to haul it to shore. Removing his rifle he quickly checked the area in case he had landed in the middle of a Japanese camp. Satisfied it was safe, and completely exhausted after his long hours of constant rowing, Wright found a suitable spot and slept for a few hours awakening as the first streaks of dawn began to appear across the dark sky. Making his way to the nearest village at Merai, Wright established contact with the elders. He gave them gifts of tobacco and paper, explained why he was there and asked if they could hide him for a few days. He warned the natives that if they did hide him, not a word of his presence should be spread, as the Japanese, if they learned of his presence, would take revenge for aiding an enemy spy. The headman was well aware of the ‘men of Japon’ and their cruelty as many natives had been tortured to death in Rabaul and the Masta was welcome to stay.3 Wright stayed a week in the village and established a firm relationship with many of the natives. The information he was seeking about the Japanese forces in Rabaul needed to be obtained from the Chinese in a nearby settlement at Adler Bay. The Chinese were hostile to Wright when they met as they felt they had been abandoned by the Australian Government during the time of the evacuations and refused to help him unless they too were 2 evacuated, which he could not arrange. Fortunately, one of the Chinese met Wright just before he left and gave him valuable information about the disposition of Japanese forces in Rabaul. When it came time to go, Wright returned at night to where he had hidden the dinghy and inflated it with an air cylinder. At the appropriate time, he flashed seaward a prearranged series of dots and dashes from his torch. Seconds later, the dim shape of S42 surfaced. Saying goodbye to the two natives who had accompanied him to the rendezvous point, Wright only had to row about three hundred yards in flat calm sea to the submarine and begin the twelve day return journey to Australia to submit his report to Naval Intelligence. Wright’s first mission was just the beginning of his extremely valuable contribution to the war in the Pacific as a member of the small but extraordinary group of men who were Coastwatchers. The value of having spies in the right place was ably demonstrated by two groups of Coastwatchers led by WJ Read, an assistant district officer at Buka Passage,4 and by PE Mason, a Bougainville plantation manager. By the end of October 1942, Japanese forces had assembled in the Carolines and began moving to launch a great attack on Guadalcanal to retake the island from the Americans. On the southern coast of Bougainville, Read and Mason both radioed early warnings of a number of Japanese warship and aircraft en route possibly towards Guadalcanal. Read from his position inland reported twelve large passenger ships, each over 10,000 tons headed south-east. Mason, on 10 November 1942, reported the passage of 61 ships comprising six assorted class cruisers, two sloops, 33 destroyers, 17 cargo, two tankers and one 8,000 ton passenger liner. These reports enabled US forces to launch air and sea strikes against the enemy shipping resulting in a major defeat for the Japanese and shattering their plans to retake Guadalcanal. Unable to resupply their forces, Japanese High Command ordered the evacuation of their remaining troops from the island which they completed by early February 1943.5 Both Coastwatchers and were later credited by US Admiral William Halsey Jr as having saved Guadalcanal. The loss of the island was the turning point of the war and even some high ranking Japanese realised the war was lost from this point. In December 1943, the US Navy had requested that Australian Naval Intelligence establish a Coastwatching outpost in New Britain to cover the southwest seaway from Rabaul. Feldt asked Wright to look at the possibilities of the operation. Wright spent time in Port Moresby evaluating plans and locations and was joined by Peter Figgis, an Intelligence Officer in the 2/22 Battalion AIF, and Les Williams who was a corporal in the Armoured Division of the AIF. Williams had been a member of Z Special Unit [commandos] and had volunteered for service with the Coastwatchers. His good working knowledge of radios and motors was to prove very useful during their time in enemy held territory.