AFTER leaving Torokina, our main targets were the Hongoroi River and the Mivo River.
These were the hot spots.
So off we went on patrol with about 15 chaps out of our platoon and six artillery chaps to find some Japanese camps.
We were out for three days, got what we wanted and were heading home.
Steve was a forward scout and I was following him with my Bren gun.
The rest were behind us.
The next moment a Jap came through into a clearing in front of me, red tags on his uniform and also on his cap … that’s as far as he got.
We were only allowed a burst of five rounds with the Bren, otherwise the barrel would get hot.
That day the whole 28 rounds went out non-stop, I sprayed the whole area.
That stopped their party and we had no one wounded.
I always had a Bren, 28 rounds in a magazine in my basic pouches, two grenades on my belt and a second Bren gun mate.
He carried the same magazines as me plus a spare barrel for my Bren.
Why did I operate with an offsider (number two)?
Well, once a machine gun opened up, the enemy would try to stop it.
If I was killed, Buck (Herb Buxton) would take over.
Buck and I were always together, great mates.
But it did not happen that way, as I lost Buck on the last day of May.
We had been out on patrol for three days getting map references again so the artillery could clean out the Jap camp.
Under fire, a bullet went into the right of his chest and came out at the back of his left shoulder.
I had a look at his chest and could only see a small hole.
At his back, the palm of my hand could not cover the hole.
I was trying to undo a field dressing to put over the wound, but my hands were shaking.
I then tried to get it undone with my teeth until I was helped by Stan Boles.
The natives made a stretcher for Buck and away we went, back to the advanced dressing station.
They gave Buck eight pints of blood, but I lost a most courageous digger-mate.
Before the war, Buck lived at home with his parents at 26 Blubb Street, Rozelle, Sydney.
I lost a great mate, they do not come like him very often.
I was with him when he passed away.
I would have liked to have visited his parents, but when I flew home after the war I went from Cairns to Melbourne and did not have the opportunity.
I do wish I had done it as he was the same age as me, 19 years.
We did so many patrols I do not know which one to talk about, but being with Stanley John Boles made you feel safer.
At 23, he won a decoration in New Guinea and was a true mate to me and the younger ones.
I marched in Anzac parades in Melbourne with him for 40 years until he died of cancer.
I pushed his wheelchair down St Kilda Road to the shrine a month before he died.
He was one of the best, sadly I also attended his funeral.
On another occasion, our battalion did an out flanking manoeuvre to seize Buin Road west of the Mivo River as the other battalions, the 58/59 and the 24th came from a different side.
As we came out of the jungle on Buin Road we should have come out 100 yards back.
The road was covered with land mines, fresh dirt everywhere, you had to watch where you were walking.
Once on Buin Road, Steve was forward scout and I was behind him with my Bren, followed by the whole battalion.
A hundred yards further we were fired on.
We had crossed a little bridge and five of us jumped onto the side of the river out of sight.
We were trapped there for three days by around 80 Japanese.
We could not move and were not game to drink the water just in case it was poisoned.
Food ran out too.
After a few days we had to move, so I fired a burst with my Bren every one to two hours in the direction of the Japanese so one of our boys could run across Buin Road to the jungle.
At this stage the Japanese knew what we were doing and they would shoot at the road.
I was the last to go so I took off a lot of gear and away I went.
No shooting at them, just running.
The road was a bit wider than a Jeep, but it felt like it took me hours to get across.
My legs did not seem to be moving.
Once across, crawling on hands and knees, I saw bullets hit trees and bushes around me, expecting one in the bum at any time.
But I was lucky.
After some time I heard voices, not knowing if it were friend or enemy.
Suddenly a voice said “where are you going mate?”
I said I was lost.
He was in a pit as a listening post and took me back to his company and they showed me to my company.
