FOREWORD

This is the story of my service with Torpedo Boats of the U.S.N. and, as such, I make no claim that it is a tersely written history of their operations in New Guinea, meticulous in every detail, and covering their many operations in that area and further towards the West.

It is only a personal record in which, though many names will be mentioned, there will be a large number who may search in vain for reference to themselves. To these I offer my apologies and say that I remember so many with whom I was acquainted, but they had their particular jobs which did not bring me into such personal contact with them.

I would assure them that they are by no means forgotten and in the following pages they will no doubt find many places, incidents and persons well known to them. In the full story of the P.T's in New Guinea, they will have their place and their many and various actions set out.

Therefore, I hope they will forgive me for lack of mention.

When the official history is published there will be found a great deal not mentioned in this, and the full story is going to make fine reading, not only for those of us who were there at the time but for the reading public of the U.S.A. and for many in Australia who know of the fine job done by the Torpedo Boats in cooperation with both Australian and U.S. forces on land and in the air along the New Guinea coast.

There have been many stories written about P.T's, most of which I have read, but I will warn readers that this record will not have the dramatic descriptions, and the rolling volleys of adjectives that others have. The job on hand in war seldom impresses the participants with its dramatic value, and though many armchair commandos will want to read something like the following, they will be disappointed. "-- tense helmeted men, crouching behind their death spitting guns, frown into the darkness, while the thunder of powerful motors sends the boats hurtling over the waters toward their prey --." The plain truth is that in such situations the general run of reactions are very different. The boat skipper is more likely wondering why the port engine hasn't the revs. that it usually turns up, while a 50 caliber gunner is thinking how heavy his helmet feels and meanwhile wriggling his big toe in a hole in his sock. The Exec. is hoping there are no half submerged logs ahead, and the engineer is thinking how damned hot it is perched over his engines, and how well a long drink would go. Such mundane things do not make good copy for thrill readers.

 

The other reason this is written is to set down the impressions of Americans at war, by one who previously, like the majority of Australians, had little or no knowledge of our neighbors across the Pacific. For American readers it may be of some interest to see themselves as others see them, and any criticism that may be made, is done with the realization of the old adage of the mote in the other fellow's eye obscuring the beam in one's own. I have tried to avoid comparisons which are still odious to most people, particularly in the knowledge that in every person, place and country some things are open to criticism. If all were perfect it would be a dull world. And what a lot of fun would be lost in the "bull sessions" that were popular with us all in P.T's. As an Australian I fear I suffer with our usual national faults, but I have tried to keep them out of these pages, and record my impressions with as much objectivity as I could muster. I do not know of any other member of the Australian Imperial force who has spent three years of service with American forces, and although three years is hardly long enough to know one's neighbors perfectly, I think it has allowed me to come to know those of the U.S.N. P.T's as well as any stranger can. After all, one has to live with a person to really know them.

It has been my good fortune to have made many firm friends among them, whom I hope to see again on their native heath among their own folks. Perhaps many incidents will seem trivial to readers, but such small things in war bulk larger than in peace and often have a proportionately larger bearing on later happenings.

I have not placed the date on many occurrences, as in the tropics day succeeds day in a seldom varied pattern and winter and summer are as one, unlike our changing seasons.

Frequently the day of the week and the date were unknown to us, until one brighter than the rest remembered he had written a letter a week before and the date on which he wrote it; then the mystery was solved.

Forewords are tiresome things and frequently go unread, but I hope those who do bother to read this will find the following pages more understandable.

The first chapter is not about P.T. boats, but it seemed necessary to explain the chances and circumstances that led me to them. I wish to add that no names are fictitious and if any of the bearers of them take umbrage at it, I ask their forbearance.

As I enjoy acrimonious letters I shall be happy to hear from them.

Orange, N.S.W.