Aidan Grimes

The Black Cat Track is not another four-wheel drive track that I have discovered in Outback Australia, but for those with a little more than a passing interest in Australian Military history will recognise it as a significant battle ground in Papua New Guinea.

Many will be familiar with the story of the Kokoda Track.

Military historians have written often of the bravery and courage shown by those involved in the New Guinea campaign, especially along the Kokoda Track, and no doubt there are countless stories of others whose sacrifices and bravery are known only to a higher authority.

Today, many Australian’s in increasing numbers are walking the Kokoda Track to pay homage to those Australian’s and Papua New Guinean Nationals, affectionately known as the Fuzzy Wuzzy Angels, who fought to defend Australia and Papua New Guinea. Most, if not all, are moved by the experience, especially after gaining only a glimpse of the conditions they would have experienced and the enormity of the task they faced against the highly-trained Japanese invasion force.

In the mid 1980’s my partner, Janet-Planet, and I lived in Papua New Guinea and we relished the opportunity to travel and work in a country that was so close to ‘home’ but was so culturally different to Australia

The experience was humbling at times.

Before leaving the country one of my National colleagues said that I would return on many occasions in the future. Of course I said I would love to, but he was insistent, telling me that he ‘knew’ things of the future.

And he was correct, since leaving I have returned twice, once for work in the mid 1990’s, and the second to walk the Kokoda Track in 2006.

I have always had a deep interest in Australian Military history and the Anzac Spirit; the Australian commitment to one’s mate that is legendary and unique amongst the World’s fighting forces; on the sporting field, anywhere for that matter. And it was with that in mind that I found myself walking the Kokoda Track with a ‘mate’ in 2006.

We visited many battlefields; sang ‘Danny Boy’ in honour of Butch Bissett at the site that his brother, Stan, nursed him to his death, and stood in silence to the fallen at Bomana War Cemetery just outside of the country’s capital, Port Moresby.

The countryside was amazing and the people warm and welcoming.

Ten years later and I am to ‘return’ once again.

In May next year I will be travelling to Papua New Guinea, this time to trek the Black Cat Track in the country’s Morobe Province.

Yes it sounds like a long time off, but time flies, right, especially when you are trying to get your fitness “up to speed”.

Partnering up with a group of like-minded people we will be guided by Aidan Grimes, an Irishman with a great sense of humour and who now calls Australia home. Aidan’s experience and knowledge of the battlefields of this region are unparalleled and with this knowledge in hand he will help us retrace the steps taken by those who fought in this region over 60 years ago, expertly guiding us through the jungle and over mountains.

Although we will never be able to walk in the boots of those that trod this region during the War Days……

The Black Track Cat starts in Wau and winds its way down to the coast at Salamaua, with many suggesting this track makes the Kokoda Track seem like a Sunday afternoon stroll in the park.

It is not an established track like ‘The Kokoda’ on which thousands of trekkers regularly tread, but a forgotten World War ll track that passes through what has been described as some of the toughest and most-hazardous terrain in the world.

In an account of his experience in The New Guinea Narrative 2001, Signalman Lloyd Collins, 3^rd Division Signals, explained;

“…there was little conversation. You neither had the time nor the inclination. Talking required energy and energy was a scarce resource. When passing a mate you sometimes glanced at his face, a face dull from fatigue and dripping with perspiration. You saw his sticking clothes, his muddy boots and trousers. You noticed the heavy pack and you could hear his heaving breath as he struggled past. Then, as you pitied him and felt sorry for his plight, you realised that you looked the same to others. Even though no words were spoken the silent glance conveyed sympathy and understanding…”

This hardly sounds like a holiday I hear you say, perhaps it is more of a test of one’s own ability to draw on inner-strengths, to be inspired and stand in awe of those that fought to protect our country; laying down their own lives so we may enjoy the freedoms and way of life we do today.

To add to the adventure we will raft down the San Francisco River from the village at the end of the track to Salamaua on rafts made locally before resting overnight and completing our journey back to Lae by sea.

It is said that Salamaua is one of best kept secrets in the world and one of the most idyllic places you will ever go!

Those that follow my expeditions into the magnificent Australian Outback will know that I enjoy a camp oven roasts, scones, and Janet’s dampers, not to mention the odd beer or two. And whilst maintaining a high level of fitness it is fair to say that I am back in the gym, rowing, and weight training as well as spending time much time in the “hills” the Australian “bush” with my backpack on…something that I need little encouragement to do!

Cheers, Baz – The Landy

An anniversary passed a couple of days ago marking 70 years since a defining moment in Australian history, the Kokoda Track campaign in the jungle of Papua New Guinea.

Starting on July 21, 1942 and lasting until 16 November of the same year it was more than a battle to save Port Moresby, and possibly Australia from a Japanese invasion, this was a time where the attributes of mateship truly shone through like a beacon to lead and guide future generations of Australians.

It is hard to stand at the monument at Isurava, which looks down to Kokoda and not be moved. The fighting here was intense, and it was in this very place that Private Bruce Kingsbury committed an act of bravery and valour that ultimately led to his own life being lost, and for which he was posthumously awarded the Victoria Cross, Australia’s highest Military Award.

A few years ago I stood at the very rock where Private Kingsbury fell, the scene was serene, and it was hard to imagine the heavy fighting that resonated from this hillside, the sound of Bren guns rattling, of Japanese mountain guns being fired over the ridge from nearby Deniki, not knowing where the shells would fall, or whose life they would next claim.

The story of the 39^th Battalion is legendary, and the enormity of the task they faced has only in recent years started to be truly understood. Increasingly Australian’s are making the pilgrimage to Kokoda, walking the track in recognition of the suffering and sacrifice these men made, to pay homage where a family member fell, a father, an uncle.

Often mocked by the regular Australian forces, the 39^th were essentially the equivalent of a Citizens Military Force. They faced an elite Japanese fighting force, the Sasebo, in the initial stages of the battle, but what they may have lacked in military prowess, if anything, was certainly overcome by the qualities of, mateship, courage, and endurance.

In 2006 I was fortunate to walk the track with a good mate, and a group of like-minded people and led by a man passionate about telling the story of the 39^th. Adopted by Australia, but of Irish descent, Aidan Grimes is an infectious person, with a typical Irish humour, who believes that the Australian quality of mateship is one of our country’s greatest assets.

Aidan has walked the track more times than he can remember, and has spent countless hours talking to those involved in the campaign. He relayed their stories as we progressed along the 96 kilometre track to Owers Corner.

There wasn’t one dry eye to be seen as Aidan sang Danny Boy at the very spot that Stan Bissett cradled his mortally wounded brother, Lieutenant Harold ‘Butch’ Bissett, in his arms before he silently slipped away.

And we should never forget the sacrifices that were made by our good friends. Our Wantoks, legends of the Kokoda Track, the Fuzzy Wuzzy Angels, the Papuan New Guineans who carried supplies and our wounded, often making the ultimate sacrifice at the hands of an unyielding foe.

Standing at the top of the final hill after six days along the Track, we looked back over the ranges and I swear we could hear that distinctive Aussie drawl, the sound of mates helping their mates, our memory of them will live on forever…Lest We Forget.