540° to Port

Is that possible? Might be!

Half a lifetime ago, well in my case it is, I arrived in Sydney, why I really didn’t know or care I was the ‘Peripatetic Pom Personified'; after being transferred from Shay Gap in W.A. to  Nhulumby on the Gove Peninsular, Northern Territory by Poone Bros. tossing the job in, in pure disgust and moving over to Darwin, I got a bit bored and decided to start travelling again. I took a flight from Darwin to Mt Isa, took one look at the place and booked a sleeping berth ( apparently Queensland Rail have discontinued the sleeper service as from 2014 , the carriages were too old; probably the same ones they had when I made the trip) on the “Inlander to  Townsville. I’d had enough of mining towns at this stage.

Forty years ago Queensland was still in the 19th century under the guidance of one Johannes “Joh” Bjelke-Petersen who was possibly one of Australia’s most dubious, I was going to say corrupt politicians which didn’t stop him awarding himself a KCMG (as Bernard put it in “Yes Minister” ‘Kindly Call Me God’ a political knighthood  dished out in Great Britain to senior Public Servants) and becoming Sir Joh. so the 977 km overnight trip wasn’t the greatest experience. Passengers were allowed 2 cans of beer, purchased on board with their meal. Hard liquor and wine was not available. Anyway when the train pulled into Chartres Towers I slipped into the bar had a shot and bought a half bottle of whisky to keep me going through the night, which I managed to sneak on board.

The trip took quite a bit longer than normal as it was towards the end of the “Wet” season and the line had been washed out and temporary repairs whatever had been effected to keep the trains rolling but at much reduced speed. I didn’t care I had my sleeper and my sneaky bottle to keep me warm.       :D

I didn’t stay long I decided to head south by bus, I prefer trains to buses but with buses it was easier to hop off if any place took my fancy; but none of them did and before I knew it I’d lobbed into Sydney, and I’ve been here ever since. At the time I only had the intention of meeting up with my brother probably finishing up with a fight, and moving on with Perth WA sort of calling  me home.

What happened you may well ask, well I was having a very relaxed irresponsible time in ‘The Rocks’ area of Sydney that time started to get a way from me, I was moving here and there amongst all the pubs in ‘The Rocks’ thirteen of them at the time, working in a few of them without any responsibility, in truth I was having a great old-time. Self indulgent to the ‘nth degree!

I can’t recall exactly when it happened, I know where. It was when I was back working for Joe Hutchins at his Orient Hotel, I’d had a couple of stints with Joe, we’d finish up having a blue and I’d go work in one of the other pubs; for a while. I was living at the Orient, and got on well with Joe’s wife Margaret so I suppose that’s why he didn’t tell me to move out of his place.

Back then I was a right-wing Nutter, believed in private enterprise, and capitalism, Joe on the other hand was a left-wing Nutter. Being an arrogant sort of bloke I knew I was right and he was wrong and we’d argue and fight and I’d leave and go work for someone else then come on back; it took a few more years for me to realize that Joe was right all along, pity is he died before I could tell him. But being a good solid Catholic I’m sure he’s sitting on a cloud somewhere smirking. 

Good solid Catholic? Joe was an industrial chemist by trade/profession and he knew exactly what went into the beer he served at the Orient, so each week he’d make a full kilderkin of his own brew and slip it into a bank, nobody knew the difference. Cost him just a few dollars to make it. There was no tax and he made a nice old cop on 36 gallons of home brew every two weeks. As I said he was a good Catholic.       :D

It was while I was working that I noticed this little tiny blonde girl/woman, she’d come in very rarely with I suppose a couple of people she worked with, sometimes with a “Bull’ ; a detective from over in Philip Street; cops always stick out like a sore thumb in a pub! She wasn’t much of a drinker she’d sit on a half Scotch ice and water, she was there for the chat, she obviously liked talking with men, well I suppose she did as I never saw her with any females.

Sometime in ’75 it must have been the building where she worked, which happened to be attached to the Orient had some problems with the lavatories/toilets/bathrooms ( which covers everybody) so the arrangement was made for the staff to come use the facilities in the pub, whilst theirs were being renovated. I might point out here that all these buildings are pretty old most going back to the 19th century.

At this time besides working Joe’s bar I was also working in the hotels kitchen with his chef, a fair dinkum chef, George, he was Greek/Australian but mostly Greek and he was a great cook and that’s why I went to work under him. He’d been a chef at the Summit Restaurant at Australia Square but had left in disgust when a change of management insisted that he re-use food that had been left over on the plates of earlier diners. I learned a lot from George.

Now very rarely this young blonde would come in for lunch, and I’d be eyeing her off, actually I was somewhat bewitched, which greatly amused George, and he’d always let me know when she was coming into the pub to use the aforementioned facilities, “hey hey here come da girlfriend” and he’d find it amusing for some reason, the women in 75 were wearing these shoes that made a helluva lot of noise and he’d recognize the sound of hers.

I’d said the occasional g’day to her but I don’t think she took much notice of me, at that time I sported what I considered a great beard. Not a full beard, very similar to one sported by Edward S Curtis and I was extremely proud of mine, and kept it neat at all times, much good it was to do me.           :(

It took a while but eventually she came round and started chatting and then it developed into the casual drink now and then, always a half Scotch ice and water, (might just have well been drinking tap water) and we became quite friendly, so much so in fact that we’d meet away from the Orient and the prying eyes, everybody knew everybody and took a keen interest in everybody elses business, the word nosey comes to mind. We would walk on down to the Metropolitan  on the corner of Bridge and George Streets, and take up the corner window on the first floor, (second floor to the Yanks who class the ground floor as the first floor) and we could enjoy a good chat.

On reflection I know that this is the period in my life when I’d gone the 360º and was turning 180º to Port.

George naturally enough left the Orient and went on to bigger better things, he was wasted there, and Joe asked me if I wanted to take over the kitchen and I thought why not, I’d learned a lot working with George and naturally being full of myself I said no worries. So I became the new cook for the pub, And the beauty of it? We only served lunch.         :P

We were obviously now enjoying each others company but we were not exactly dating or romatically linked so much so that when she arrived early for work she changed her normal practice slightly. The norm was to buy a coffee and an iced finger bun from Mary’s sandwich shop which was next to Phillips Foot which was her breakfast after more than an hours bus ride down from Dee Why/Narraweena (up on the Northern Beaches which at the time I knew precious little about) which she would eat once in the office. Instead she would drop by and I’d let her in through the backdoor of the pub and she would join me in my kitchen eat her bun drink her coffee chat and generally check on what I was preparing for the lunchtime mob.

It’s fair to say that by this time I was completely bewitched not somewhat, although I wasn’t getting much encouragement.

Most mornings after alighting from her bus at the Wynyard Bus Terminal she’d slip through the Menzies Arcade and hop on a West Circular Quay bus down to the Argyle/George Street corner which saved a good ten/fifteen minutes walk and one morning she was a bit late and when she did arrive there was steam streaming from the top of her head and fire blazing in the eyes and I though uh oh what have I done but it wasn’t me or my doing it was the bus drivers..

Back in the 70’s the bus service along George Street Sydney down to The Rocks was generally referred to as the ‘Banana Service’ the buses always came along in bunches  there’d be 3,4 or 5 at a time all pretty well empty all coming down to The Rocks, some to East some to West Circular Quay, and this morning she happened to be the only passenger on the West Circular Quay bus.

The driver decided that he’d give the West a miss that morning and go straight around to the East which was the main terminus and finish his shift.

His problem was he hadn’t reckoned on the little blonde woman sitting without a doubt in the very middle of the very rear seat, possible having a quiet final puff on a cigarette. He announced “End of the road’ everybody out or whatever it is they do and say; but this little blonde woman just sat there. “End of the line lady’ says the bus driver.

“This is a West Circular Quay bus, I paid my fare to West Circular Quay and I will get off when I get there” or words to that effect. “Come on lady says he it’s just a nice walk across the Quay” (which it normally is) “and I’m finishing my shift”; “I paid to go to West Circular Quay and that’s where I want to go”; this apparently went on for a few minutes the bus driver trying to cajole her into taking a nice stroll and she steadfastly refusing insisting on being driven to her correct destination.

What was left for the, I suppose by now dishevelled, bus driver to do? He climbed back into his seat turned the bus around and drove the young lady the 2 or 3 hundred metres across to West Circular Quay and deposited her at her desired stop, I have no doubt she thanked him gracefully.

So back to the blazing eyes and steam pouring from the top of her head as she related the full story; what could I do? I laughed myself silly and grabbed her gave her a big hug and planted a big kiss full on her mouth, and believe it or not we’d wandered into my pantry when this occurred. What else could I do, it was delicious, ridiculous, hilarious and it was at that moment that I knew I’d met the right woman for me.

She admonished me and told me that if I ever wanted to try that trick again I’d better get rid of the beard, she couldn’t stand beards. After the poor bus driver who was I to argue!

The little tiny blonde? Her name was Kerry Clark, it got changed a bit later to Kerry Smith.

Kerry c1975
Kerry c1975

The lunacy of the USA electoral system

With the US election for a new president underway and a few billion dollars wasted and poured down the drain before said election on the 1st or will it be the 8th November 2016, I have an idea that there is some ancient reason for it to be held on the 8th next time around, farmers getting crops in and having trouble travelling to the polling sites in time or some such reason, anyway I thought I’d give this little rant an airing now just in case I wont be around to see a woman try to take “The White House”.

The lunacy of the USA electoral system.

The Angiogram & Me.

They warned me before they started.

As those that bother to read and/or follow my ramblings know last Wednesday I was scheduled to have an angiogram, and as those same people being intelligent people; well they must be to be following this drivel; know what an angiogram is I wont go into the gory details, not that they are it just sounds that way.

Well the surgeon in charge of the procedure decided that it would be better to proceed with the angiogram through an artery in my right wrist/forearm rather than the normal way; the right thigh.

Which was a pity really for the wardsman I think they’re called had given my right thigh a jolly good shave and a young lady doctor whose name was Ilene had inserted something into the back of my right hand, (I hope you’re enjoying this detailed discription) which was the normal thing for a thigh procedure.           :P

So now the thing that Doctor Ilene had inserted  into my right hand was replicated on my left hand, but it was decided that they might as well leave the other one in my right arm as it might come in handy for something or other later, it’s good to know that you’re in such good hands. Just joking I could not wish for better!

The surgeon  who decided on the arm explained that it was a more difficult way to proceed but he thought that it was the best way to go for me. I concurred. I’d had an angiogram some 20 odd years back and I recall having to lie perfectly, still flat on my back, for a few hours after and I really wasn’t fancying that, I get some nasty cramps in my legs if I lie still for any length of time, now I think of it, it was probably this that caused the surgeon to go for the wrist after I’d told him about the cramps, The surgeon also warned me that I’d experience some heavy bruising!

They pumped some purple dye stuff into my veins and hooked me up to a drip to stop me dehydrating and I had to just lie there while this dye worked its way through to my heart.

About an hour later some tattooed wardsman came and wheeled me along to the theatre where the angiogram was to be performed, and there was this great 110+ centimetre TV screen for me to watch the proceedings, the best part of the whole thing, watching it live on Tele.     Trouble was I didn’t get such a good view this time this great camera thingy was blocking my view most of the time; I was very disappointed I was actually looking forward to seeing the old ticker pounding away with this wiggerly thing bouncing around inside, ah well c’est le vie!

It took about 40-45 minutes I suppose then I was wheeled back to the recovery room and the bloke that went before me was still there flat on his back immobile! I on the otherhand was sitting up and able to watch everything going on around and chat to the nurses as I had this pressure thing attached to my arm. Every now and then a nurse would come around check me out and release a bit of the pressure, it was an air pressure system; after about 1½ -2 hours the thing was taken off and a pressure pad type of clear bandage was stuck on over the hole where the catheter was inserted all very exciting and the other poor bloke was still flat on his back. I don’t know how long he was there for or if there were complications, but here I was up and being allowed to get dressed ready for departure, although I still had an hour to wait before they said bye bye.               :P

Now for the bruising. The surgeon was spot on and I have some lovely technicolor bruises which I’m about to share with you by pictures my daughter Emma took this morning when she and my granddaughterRuby and Ruby’s  Auntie Sarah popped by to wish Kerry “Happy Mothers Day”, they have all gone out and I’m home alone and it’s quite peaceful.  The pictures are not of the standard of my chum egad aka Emilio but they will have to suffice; enjoy! If you click on the pics they’ll be enlarged for you to enjoy even more.

Bruising right wrist
Bruising right wrist
another view
another view
Note bruise on back of hand
Note bruise on back of hand

With friends like these……


An extract from MSN/Nine News today

I thought this was quite interesting, strange bedfellows our American cousins sleep with wouldn’t you agree?

Australian Federal Police defends role in Bali Nine arrest


There are 58: Afghanistan, Antigua and Barbuda, The Bahamas, Bahrain, Bangladesh, Barbados, Belarus, Belize, Botswana, Chad, China, Comoros, Democratic Republic of Congo, Cuba, Dominica, Egypt, Equatorial Guinea, Ethiopia, Gambia, Guatemala, Guinea, Guyana, India, Indonesia, Iran, Iraq, Jamaica, Japan, Jordan, Kuwait, Lebanon, Lesotho, Libya, Malaysia, Nigeria, North Korea, Oman, Pakistan, Palestinian Authority, Qatar, Saint Kitts and Nevis, Saint Lucia, Saint Vincent and the Grenadines, Saudi Arabia, Singapore, Somalia, South Sudan, Sudan, Syria, Taiwan, Thailand, Trinidad And Tobago, Uganda, United Arab Emirates, United States Of America, Vietnam, Yemen and Zimbabwe

Becoming Pessimistic.

Pessimistic? Not really!

I had thought that by now the timing of the operation to remove my stomach would be known. Everything seemed to be going along swimmingly; on the 22nd April I attended Professor David Barnes’ rooms at the RPAH Medical Centre. He was to evaluate my lungs, my breathing and the amount of oxygen in my blood amongst other things and he was surprised and I might say seemed pleased with my condition, especially as I had been a fairly heavy/regular puffer of cigarettes for many years. I gave them up overnight in September 1991 so I’ve been free from that pernicious weed / addiction for almost a quarter of a century. Sounds a long time and better when I put it like that. Professor Barnes gave me a thumbs up for the operation, (actually that should be thumbs down, thumbs down to let the victim live up to kill him off)

Prior to seeing Professor Barnes on the 22nd I saw Professor Jens Kilian on the 16th, Prof Kilian is a cardiologist, he gave me a good going over and detected a small murmur and decided to run further tests. The first ‘Echo’ test was made one week later and the second ‘Echo’ stress test a week later again. Seemed I failed the second ‘Echo’ test.

Now I have to have an angiogram and this will be done on Wednesday, less than 48 hours from now. I had one many years ago and I found the actual procedure quite enthralling as you are conscious throughout the entire procedure. It was not very pleasant after, I recall having to lie perfectly still for some considerable time, couple of hours if memory serves me aright as the catherter was inserted into the artery in my right thigh and  any movement would open the wound; or something along those lines.

Professor Kilian will not give his okay for the go ahead until he is satisfied that the old ticker will stand up to the strain of the operation. I realize it’s a major op and lasts between 4 and 5 hours, however I’m happy to take my chances and put myself in the hands of Professor Charbel Sandroussi, I’m sure he will do a damned fine job and am very confident of success; whether the operation is a success but the patient dies is in the lap of the gods as one is wont to say. but I believe it is worth the risk if you have confidence in the man in charge, and I certainly do!       :D

You might note that in this post I have elected to name all the physicians who have examined me, in my previous posts and emails to my chums I refrained from doing so as I believed that it might be against these eminent physicians and surgeons ethics however all are listed on the Internet with their qualifications and specialities. So if my reader is interested then he, or she, only need to copy and paste the names into Google and get the full monty.

Hopefully after Wednesday all systems are go as they say in NASA!         :P

Still Here!

Methinks it’s time to catch up.

The last post I did was on the 17th, the day I’d completed my four score years on ‘Planet Earth'; to celebrate my wife, our children and their partners (why do we always  use the expression partners these days?- I know it’s not new Mr Bennet in Pride & Prejudice used the word in the same context) took me to the local pub for a celebratory dinner, I chose ‘The Empire’ as the girls, i.e my wife and our two daughters; had eaten there on previous occasions and vouched for the quality of the food.

Naturally I ordered what I always enjoy at a pub, the beer battered fish and chips, it’s the ‘Pom’ in me, and as a rule the chish & fips (love Spoonerisms) at a pub is top notch, sad to say at the ‘Empire ‘ it wasn’t, I must admit I cook better, says he modestly! The batter was too thick, and too dark, I think perhaps they overcooked it or the oil in which it was cooked was old and used for everything deep fried not just the fish. As for the chips, well they were those silly shoestring type of thing instead of a good thick potato chip (not to be confused with potato crisps) crispy and golden on the outside and soft and hot on the inside. The things they served as chips had no inside and were completely lacking in character. perhaps I should have selected the ‘Vic’ my other local.             :roll:

Very disappointing to a connoisseur of fish & chips like me.

However, the company was good and it was all very pleasant and enjoyable and after the meal we adjourned to our home where we finished the celebration with my birthday cake; I’m happy to announce that there was not 80 candles on it for me to blow out.

Last Friday the 24th April was another day of celebration; this for our granddaughter Ruby who was 2; she is an absolute joy and delight, I’d like to fill these pages with photographs and videos of her but out of respect for her parents I will refrain. They are very private people and have no liking for such things as the so called social pages of the Internet, and seriously, who can blame them? Needless to say it was a very happy day which carried over to Saturday for further celebrations.

As you can see the last couple of weeks has been quite busy for me and somewhat taxing but I shan’t go into that here, I’ll be doing a seperate post on that!         O_o     o_O

ANZAC Centenary


This man, gpcox does us proud. HE never forgets!

Originally posted on Pacific Paratrooper:

James Charles Martin (1901-1915), youngest Australian KIA at Gallipoli James Charles Martin (1901-1915), youngest Australian KIA at Gallipoli

Anzac Centenary

Between 2014 and 2018 Australia and New Zealand will commemorate the Anzac Centenary, marking 100 years since their  involvement in the First World War.

Gallipoli today Gallipoli today

The Anzac Centenary is a milestone of special significance to all Australians and New Zealanders.  The First World War helped define them as a people and as nations.

PhotoELF Edits:2012:10:04 --- Saved as: 24-Bit JPEG (EXIF) Format 98 %

During the Anzac Centenary they will remember not only the original ANZACs who served at Gallipoli and the Western Front, but commemorate more than a century of service by Australian and New Zealand servicemen and women. [And I hope other nations will as well.]


The Anzac Centenary Program encompasses all wars, conflicts and peacekeeping operations in which they have been involved.   And to honour all those who have worn the uniforms.  The programs involved with the Centenary urge all to reflect on their military…

View original 146 more words

Made it!

17th April 1935 – 17th April 2015.

There have been times when I thought I’d never make it, in twenty O five when I was diagnosed as having prostate cancer, and told that without an operation I had one perhaps two years left and then being told that it was to aggressive and was inoperable. Then thrown a lifeline with a relatively new procedure  (in Australia at any rate) and the doc who would carry out this procedure guaranteed me an extra 6 to 8 years.

Well that guarantee expired last June; and I’m still here.

Then in twenty eleven I had a small stroke, but a stroke nevertheless, and the good doctor who decided to operate on my carotid arteries told me that there was a one in ten chance that I might not survive the operations; (there were to be two of them), due to various factors, anyway as you can tell, survive I did and in October 2014 Doctor Adams gave me the all clear and said that I was good to go to 150 years of age and he didn’t need to see me again; which is a shame, we got on really well, our consultations consisted of 10%  medical talk and 90% chatting about books, authors and history, I miss the visits.

Now as we know I’ve been diagnosed with cancer once again, I have an excellent doctor/ general practitioner who has pushed me along to top specialists.

I’ll report the progress through the other blog because today is a day of celebration for me at least. I am the first member from my father and mothers lines to actually complete 80 years, as I said in the beginning of this ramble there have been times when I thought I’d never make it.

Well here I am           :roll:

Cancer v Me: Round 2,

and come out fighting   :roll:

Some weeks ago at the insistence of my wife and continued pressure from my Doc I agreed to undergo a top and bottom procedure / assault performed upon my aging carcass. I’ve been keeping my sister Carole, (who some of my readers have become aware of through these pages); up to date by email. Carole lives in France for some reasons or other which of course are a complete mystery to me. Why on earth would anybody choose to live there when they can live here in Australia?

Undoubtedly there’s reason for concern there           :P

I have been “Cc’ing” updates to some of my chums and buddies through my “BccChums”  list, and it dawned on me that I am neglecting some of my chums in the ‘WorldPress’ world so I’ve decided to bore the lot of you with the continuing melodrama, saga of my impending clash with a different cancer.

As I started to say in the first paragraph I finally agreed to get myself checked out, and my good doctor pressured the A W Morrow Gastroenterology and Liver Centre (attached to the RPAH) to get me checked out, he was worried by my increasing anemia. So he got me booked in for a Flexible Sigmoidoscopy and Gastroscopy on the 26th March; doesn’t that sound exciting   O_o

Armed with my book (P & P, only had a few chapters to go) I duly presented myself at the ‘Centre’ an hour or so early and I was prepped and ready  to go; naturally I’d done everything that I was supposed to do, so I thought, and when Nurse Kerry (not the wife) put a question to me and I answered in the negative I naturally put the whole schedule out for the afternoon and as a consequence of my own stupidity I got shoved to the end of the victims. I had been scheduled first to go at 1400 hours I think it was, but I didn’t get done ’til after 1600 hours. Mea culpa!   :/

When I came round after the anesthetic I got dressed had a delightful sandwich; I hadn’t eaten for 48 hours I’d had nothing but cups of tea and water since Tuesday evening.

In the interim they’d rang Kerry and asked her to come and get me and when she arrived they escorted me to the exit, probably pleased to see the back of me, and transferred me to her care and told me to come back on the 16th April to get the results of the FS&G thingy.

However, on the 2nd April the Thursday before Easter,  I got a phone call from the secretary/receptionist of a Professor S. asking if I could come in to see the professor on Easter Tuesday morning to discuss the results of the tests and she suggested 0800 hours, I explained that I couldn’t possibly make it and asked what was the latest and she suggested 1730 hours.

As I’d never heard of this Professor S before I naturally went online to find out what I could about him; it turns out he’s a Professor at the University of Sydney Medical School and you’ve guessed it, specializes in cancer; and liver transplants is a speciality.

So at 1730 on Tuesday Kerry ( that’s Kerry my wife not Kerry the nurse) and I went along to see the prof who prefers ‘Doctor’ to ‘Professor’ and what a lovely man he is, instilled instant confidence didn’t beat around the bush, told me straight out that I had a tumor in the oesophagus, I asked “is that cancer?’ and he said yes. He advised me that it was a very big operation with some risk to remove it but he’d had great success, having only ever having one patient die on him. This patient was a pretty old bloke of 84 and died 3 days after the operation from a stroke. I told him that I’d already had my stroke a few years back so no problems there and anyway I’m only 80.     ;)

Next day I get another call from the PET Department at the RPAH telling me that Doctor S had requested they contact me and make an appointment to come in for a ‘Whole Body FDG PET-CT scan”, that was on Wednesday and they booked me in for Friday the 10th at 1020 hours.

These medical people are not messing about wasting time or procrastinating, right on time at 1020 they had me weighed measured and prepped and then I sat in the most gorgeous comfortable chair for an hour whilst some stuff that they’d shoved into my veins could circulate, I fiddled with the butttons got so comfortable that I dozed off and they had to wake me up to go into the room for the scan.

It was all over by 1245 hours, I don’t have to check back with the Centre on the 16th, I just have another appointment with the good doctor/professor on the 16th instead, when I suppose he’ll tell me when he will operate. But I wouldn’t mind betting he sends me off to see a heart specialist first   ;)

It might be a good idea if I do any further update on proceedings here instead of cluttering up everybody’s email in boxes, you might let me know what you’d prefer   :idea:

I might include some pictures of me without skin on, then again I might not             :D

Operation Rimau

Why did they try this?

The success of Operation Jaywick encouraged it’s  leader  Major, now promoted to Lt Colonel Lyons to plan a larger attack on Japanese shipping in Singapore Harbour. Six veterans of Jaywick formed the core of the proposed assault party of 23, sailors and commandos and I think for this essay it’s necessary and important to list all members of the party for reasons which will become self-explanatory:

Lieutenant Colonel Ivan Lyon, Lieutenant Commander Donald Davidson, Lieutenant Robert Ross, Lieutenant Bruno Reymond, Sub-Lieutenant Gregor Riggs Major Reginald Ingleton, Captain Robert Page, Lieutenant Albert Sargent, Lieutenant Walter Carey,

Warrant Officer Alfred Warren, Sergeant David Gooley, Corporal Clair Stewart, Corporal Roland Fletcher, Able Seaman Walter Falls, and Lance Corporal John Hardy, Able Seaman Frederick Marsh, Warrant Officer Jeffrey Willersdorf, Sergeant Colin Cameron, Able Seaman Andrew Huston, Corporal Archie Campbell, Corporal Colin Craft, Corporal Hugo Pace and Private Douglas Warne.

Operation Jaywick succeeded in part through its simplicity,  Rimau was a much more sophisticated operation using15 motorised submersible canoes, known as SB’s ( Sleeping Beauties) fo the main attack on Japanese shipping, after the attack these SB’s were to be scuttled and escape made in the folboats which were used with great success on the previous raid.

The raiding party left Fremantle WA onboard the RN submarine ‘Porpoise’ on the 11th September1944 (9/11 in Americanized English). The initial plan was to establish a base with provisions for three months on a tiny island of  Merapus lying off the east coast of Bintan which was believed to be uninhabited. A periscope reconnaissance proved otherwise; so Major Lyon decide on a change of plan. Lt. Carey was to remain to guard the supplies, the rest re-embarked on the Porpoise and the plan was now to capture a native junk, which they did on the 28th.


Seven members of the Rimau group took over the junk, the ‘Mustika’ the crew of which were transferred to the Porpoise and with one of the conducting officers a Major Chapman and returned to Australia, arriving back in Fremantle on the 11th October.

Four days later Major Chapman embarked on another sub the HMS Tantalus and they sailed for a rendezvous with the Rimau party on Merapus; there was no sign of the Rimau party and the site was a mess, scattered food and ration tins strewn around the place and it was estimated that whatever had happened there happened a couple of weeks earlier.

Nothing is known of what happened to the Rimau party except from the Japanese records, reports; the following is a condensed report taken from the Australian Navy history pages.

On or about the 6th October the ‘Mustika’ was off the west coast of Batam and insight of Singapore Harbour, whilst waiting for dark and preparing their SB’s the vessel was approached by what was thought to be a Japanese patrol boat but was actually a Malaya Police vessel, and the men on the ‘Mustika’ opened fire on this boat killing 4 of crew, whilst one escaped.

Having now lost all element of surprise Lyon decided to abandon the operation and scuttled the ‘Mustika’. they launched the folboats  split into four groups. Three of the groups met up on Asore a small island where on the 16th they came in contact for the first time with a  Japanese patrol, during the following action Major Lyon and Lt Ross along with 8 Japanese were killed, the rest of the group escaped but Lt Cmdr Davidson and Corporal Campbell had been seriously wounded. Their bodies were later discovered following another fight on the island of Tapai.

On the 4th November, four days before the scheduled rendezvous and extraction the Japanese found the operatives on Merapas in the fight which followed both Sub.Lt Riggs and Sgt Cameron were killed.

Over the next few weeks the remainder of the party were either killed or captured, a total of 11 were taken prisoner but AB Marsh died in captivity from malaria.

The remaining ten  Major Reginald Ingleton RM, Captain Robert Page, Lieutenant Albert Sargent, Lieutenant Walter Carey, Warrant Officer Alfred Warren, Sergeant David Gooley, Corporal Clair Stewart, Corporal Roland Fletcher, Able Seaman Walter Falls, and Lance Corporal John Hardy were held in gaol until the 3rd July 1945 when they were placed on trial before a military court, where all ten were sentenced to death.

On the 7th July 1945 one month before the first atomic bomb was dropped on Hiroshima these ten men, one English 9 Australians, were beheaded by the Japanese.

War crimes investigators adjudged that no war crimes had been committed as those decapitated had voluntarily deprived themselves of the right to be treated as prisoners of war by discarding military dress and posing as Malays.

Operation Jaywick in its simplicity a resounding success; Operation Rimau in its sophistication an abysmal failure.

Reference and thanks

My thanks to the following for most of the infomation contained in this post


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