United We Stand

By Sue Bagust

Normally sleepy Brisbane simmers with tension with the soldiers of two Armies eager to fight each other instead of the common enemy, businessmen determined to make a quick profit from the war, intolerant parents who oppose George and Mary’s marriage on religious grounds and to top it off there’s a nationwide beer shortage. Maybe George’s father has the right idea to go bush ...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sue Bagust
• Release date: Sep 2, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005263294

Sue Bagust

Sue Bagust is an author, playwright, advertising copywriter and Reiki therapist/trainer who lives in SE Queensland, Australia, with her husband, cats, dog and a few noisy geckos.. Sue previously published two Reiki workbooks and also writes plays.

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What readers say about:

UNITED WE STAND

"United We Stand is the final instalment in an impeccably-researched and superbly-crafted trilogy by Queensland author Sue Bagust, set in and around Australia during the dark and dangerous days of World War II. Like the first two volumes in the series, this is much more than a war-story: it is a story also of the home front, of powerful family conflicts, back-room politics, clashes between allies, and romances forged in the shadow of social, class and sectarian restriction.

The true test of any historical novel is whether the reader feels they are there, sharing that particular world and time with the protagonists. Some novels accomplish this, in part at least, through a sort of time travel mechanism, wafting the reader back through the decades on an all-too-fleeting visit to a chosen bygone age. That drop-in/fly-out approach tends to unduly acknowledge the world of today, and some of today’s values and patterns of speech frequently start to intrude. That is never the case with United We Stand: in this book, you are actually there in 1942 and the world of 2021 simply does not exist. Brisbane in 1942 is so vividly rendered that you almost smell the eucalypts, the brewing tea leaves, the brown, gently-flowing river. The horrors of war are there, either in the fore- or background, but so are the realities of everyday life – the family squabbles, class distinctions, religious disputes, restrictions on beer, the yearning for peace, and the love that shines through between human beings, against all the odds.

Treat yourself to a wonderful and substantive journey with this novel, but be prepared to be thoroughly immersed in the time period and the lives of the book’s characters. As with the previous entries in this outstanding trilogy, Sue Bagust has captured the mood and essence of wartime Australia with incredible skill and empathy. Highly recommended reading."

Geoff Barlow, Goodreads Review

"I just finished reading your book and thoroughly enjoyed it. Thank you so much for the pleasure. As it is now 6 am I shall get my backside into bed. I was enjoying it so much I didn't realise how late it was till Arnie came out of bed to check on me."

Klara Sonner Cheasley

"I felt like I was there, part of the story and I didn’t want the story to end. I couldn’t put this book down and was sad to know this is the last in the trilogy. My only disappointment is that the story ended."

Sharon Jarvis

UNITED WE STAND

April - May 1942

Stories of wartime Australia by Sue Bagust

Cover photo: Wedding of Douglas and Edna Smith

©The moral rights of the author are asserted and all rights reserved except as permitted under the Australian Copyright Act 1968 (e.g. fair dealing for the purposes of study, research, criticism or review). If you’d like to share your thoughts about United We Stand, my email is [e-mail] and I would appreciate your feedback. I do hope that you enjoy reading this book as much as I enjoyed writing it.

APRIL 1942

I believe that there is in Australia today an intense love of country, greater in its expression than has yet been called forth at any previous period in Australia’s history.

Prime Minister John Curtin, 1942

By early 1942, Australia was the target for air and sea attacks and Australians discovered a unity of purpose they had not known before. Civilians dug air raid shelters, trained for civil defence, learned first aid, accepted rationing and worked in vital industries when manpower laws directed people into essential war production. Thousands of women did jobs that previously had been done only by men. Defence was the first priority with air raid precautions and beaches covered in barbed wire, and non-combatants were invited to join the Volunteer Defence Corps (or VDC). In December 1941 the VDC had a national strength of 44,000 but after Japan entered the war VDC numbers quickly soared to over 100,000, with the VDC taking responsibility for the defence of key installations and for full scale guerrilla warfare should the Japanese invade. Rumours of a ‘Brisbane Line’ where most of Queensland would be surrendered to an invading enemy became part of everyday conversation. In early 1942 thousands of VDC transferred to the regular Army or the militia to be Australia’s front line fighters, until Australia’s Army returned from the Middle East. A nationwide propaganda campaign brought home the possibility of Japanese invasion and Queenslanders felt this threat deeply and were quick to step up to defend and protect the State they loved. The VDC was more than a Dad’s Army, it was an everyman and everywoman militia of ordinary citizens.

Department of Information poster, Australia 1942

Wednesday, 1 April, 1942

PORT MORESBY, NEW GUINEA: On the road

I thought you’d forgotten me, George commented grumpily as a grinning Bill pulled up beside him.

Bill replied, You should know by now that the NGVR never leave a man behind. George acknowledged Bill’s quip with a grunt as George hoisted his kitbag to throw it into the backseat, but Bill looked George up and down assessingly before he continued, You look like you’re ready for the knacker’s yard. I heard you and Old Gog had a good catch-up last night.

George replied with a groan as he clambered over the door into the passenger seat of Bill’s jeep. He hadn’t got enough sleep last night and his head thumped with the beginnings of a hangover. He complained, This town is a hotbed of gossip. I thought Brisbane was bad, but Brisbane hasn’t got a patch on Moresby for spreading the news.

Bill lost his grin as he replied, Someone should tell you, and I guess that someone is me. Bill stopped speaking as he joined the traffic flow heading towards the town, so George asked warily, Is the latest gossip about me, then? Bill nodded absently, still watching the road until George asked, Is it juicy? Did I enjoy it?

Bill relaxed at George’s reaction and replied, You got yourself a nickname. Well, you must have expected to get one. Bill paused to look sideways at George, who just stared back doing his ‘Wooden Indian’ impersonation, a boyhood trick he developed so as not to reveal his emotions. George hated nicknames from his first days as a shy schoolboy at boarding school where he was first called GG because of his initials, which quickly became horsey with typical schoolboy humour, then changed to Crazy Horse thanks to his cousin Nigel’s inventive bullying of his younger cousin.

George braced himself to hear the worst as Bill continued, People talk about you, George. You come back to town and almost immediately we get lots more arrivals from New Britain to cross off our list of missing in action. George relaxed slightly. This didn’t sound as bad as he expected.

Bill noticed and said, Add to that, the first time you were here a very useful boat arrived in the harbour that got us to New Britain in time to rescue those nuns. The patrol you went out with during that visit still talks about your ‘take no prisoners’ fighting style!

George commented drily, Instead of which, I got taken prisoner.

Bill laughed with George and agreed, That’s true, but in the meantime you certainly impressed the mob that went out with you. The word has spread through the NGVR that you’re a good man to have beside you in a fight. George sat silent, unable to find a suitable retort and ludicrously pleased to be thought of highly by the NGVR. After all, the New Guinea Volunteer Rifles were not regular Army but a mob of mainly middle-aged militia, civilians who in real life were planters and public servants, policeman and priests, who had formed themselves into a fighting front line to defend Australian territory from Japanese attack. George admired these men immensely, and was flattered to find that they also regarded him highly. George cleared his throat, a little embarrassed, but before he could speak Bill spoke again, a series of seemingly unrelated sentences linked by a series of pauses as he skilfully wove his way through a line of trucks heading for the wharf. Old Gog fights like that. He’s another one who takes no prisoners. George was immediately wary when Bill mentioned Old Gog, and watched Bill silently.

Having successfully passed the trucks, Bill moved over to the side of the road to give way to more trucks coming from the wharf and loaded with incoming diggers, but still kept his vehicle moving steadily towards the aerodrome despite the increased traffic. The NGVR all respect Old Gog. Although he hasn’t officially joined us, he’s been useful on numerous occasions.

George remained silent and watchful as Bill paused to indicate a right hand turn, swung quickly across the road as soon as he could through a break in the traffic and resumed his break-neck progress down a less busy street before he continued, Some of us are related to Old Gog. George felt like all the breath had been knocked out of his body. He stared at Bill warily, and Bill nodded as he said, They’re calling you Young Gog. Bill paused again before he added, They mean it as a compliment.

George thought for a moment before he smiled wryly, I suppose it is. George looked directly at Bill before he asked, How long have you known who he was?

Bill shrugged as he answered, Ever since Old Gog came up here.

And you didn’t say anything?

Not my business.

And about me?

Since before you came up here, when Old Gog asked me to help you.

George grinned ruefully, And I thought that you came on board because of my charm.

Bill grinned back, saying, It was that too! But you being Old Gog’s son did help; breeding tells, in humans as well as horses.

George shook his head but still smiled wryly as Bill said, I wish you could stay here, George, and that’s because of more than your charm. Things run smoother when you’re around.

I have to get back to Brisbane. Wally reports problems that need my attention. George grinned and admitted, I don’t totally believe him; I don’t think Wally likes manning a desk.

Bill nodded, It’s probably better that you get out of Moresby anyway. Bill looked up quickly to scan the sky, before returning his attention to the road.

George asked quickly, Have you heard any news this morning?

Bill shrugged, Same old, same old, but they’re coming, George! It’s not a matter of if, but when. These daily air raids are to soften us up, like they did everywhere else before they invade. They’re coming. Bill looked up at the sky again before continuing, You better get those blokes from Malaya out of Moresby hospital and back to Australia, if you can.

George nodded a silent agreement before saying persuasively, I wish you would come back to Brisbane with me, Bill. With your local knowledge you’d be a huge asset on the New Guinea desk. Is there any chance … George’s voice tailed off as Bill shook his head emphatically.

There’s too much to do here. The NGVR really do need someone on the ground here in Moresby who knows how the real world works up here.

George grimaced, not liking what he heard even though he could see Bill’s point. Bill nodded towards a group of RAAF airmen gathering by the side of the road before he continued, As an example, do you know what we tell the RAAF crews to do if they get shot down? George shook his head, so Bill continued, We tell them to follow any track that heads inland until they find a native to show them where the white men hide. George couldn’t control a spurt of laughter and Bill nodded, I know. It’s crazy, but it works. We pick up so many lost flyboys just by asking for help from the natives. Sometimes they even deliver them to us.

How far inland have the Japanese advanced now?

Bill raised his eyebrows as he replied, Surprisingly, not far. Scouts report the enemy line extends from B3000 through a poultry farm on Markham Road through to E3797. That’s only about a mile and a half from Lae so they’re not getting very far, very fast. Our inhospitable northern coast appears to have slowed the invincible Nippon war machine down to a crawl.

What about the New Britain evacuation?

The pinnacle Gnair made it through and there’s more on the way. The news blackout is still on so as not to jeopardize further rescue attempts.

George nodded slowly before asking carefully, Like the Laurabada on the south coast? Is there any news from there?

Bill’s lips tightened as he shook his head, We still can’t give Lieutenant Champion the all clear to go ahead. Palmalmal Mission is cut off, both by land and by sea. The Japs are everywhere in the air too. Palmalmal could be a nicely baited trap, waiting for us to walk in, or rather sail in.

Bill again quickly looked up at the skies again before he continued, How much are we prepared to lose, gambling on getting our boys out? We could send in a flight of Catalinas and every boat available right now, but if it’s a trap then all we’ve done is lost more men as well as equipment that we can’t afford to throw away. We are woefully undermanned and under-equipped here in Moresby, just like Rabaul before the Japs landed.

Bill chewed his moustache angrily before he said, But then, on the other hand, we estimate there could be over a hundred diggers and civilians gathered at Palmalmal now, waiting to be picked up. We have to get them out, if we can. Bill frowned, obviously upset by his thoughts as he continued, We processed another Rabaul evacuee this morning, an eye witness to the massacre of over a hundred prisoners, similar to the Hong Kong atrocities. It happened at a place called Tol Plantation.

Bill glanced at George sombrely as he said, I don’t think we can continue to hope that it’s just a rumour, George. Something bad happened over there.

George swallowed the bile that rose in his throat and shivered involuntarily despite the tropical heat already warming Port Moresby even this early in the morning, and he absently rubbed the scars left on his wrist with his thumb as he remembered his own close escape. He silently watched the passing town that Bill drove through, noticing how many people along their route took a quick break to look to the sky before resuming their work. Watching the sky in Moresby these days was as automatic as it was to breathe. Anti-aircraft batteries prepared for that day’s raids, vendors carried enormous bundles of produce to the storehouses, trucks full of diggers and supplies headed away from the waterfront and men dug even more trenches as Port Moresby prepared for another day of air raids. He remembered a snippet from last night’s conversations with Old Gog and asked idly, Is there any news on Father Glover this morning? Last night Old Gog told me some story about him building a plane from galvanised iron, or something like that, but it was late at night and I didn’t hear most of the details. George rubbed his head admitting, I may have had a little too much to drink by that time.

Bill laughed, It wasn’t a whole plane; they pinched that from behind the Japanese lines. They only built an auxiliary fuel tank for the plane out of galvanised iron. Trust Old Gog to have the latest news. I haven’t caught you up on that story yet, have I? When George shook his head, Bill continued, I keep meaning to, but we’ve been flat chat. We’ve known for close to a week that Glover set off with his off-sider Nagy to tell us about the refugees piling up in the highlands and that they flew a Fox Moth out close to a week ago.

Would a Fox Moth have enough range?

Not normally, which is why Nagy rigged up an auxiliary tank from galvanised iron. Bill flashed a quick glance sideways at George’s surprised reaction, before he added, Karl Nagy was Guinea Airways' chief engineer before the war so he certainly has the know-how to rig an auxiliary tank from whatever material is lying around not being used.

George was still too surprised to comment and after a moment Bill added, But you’ll be pleased to know they had a back-up plan if their auxiliary tank didn’t carry enough fuel to get them through. George half-smiled at Bill, enjoying the story of the adventurous priest and his friend and waiting for the finale to Bill’s story. Bill grinned back as he said, Nagy sat in the back seat so he would be close to the main fuel line, nursing a large bedpan full of extra fuel on his lap ready to transfer it to the fuel line when they ran low.

How did he intend to do that? George demanded, astounded.

With the biggest enema syringe they could find.

George exploded into laughter, laughing so hard that he snorted for breath, and Bill happily joined in. When Bill could speak again he added, They appropriated the bedpan and the syringe from Campbell’s hospital stores. George continued to laugh as Bill continued, Just like they appropriated the Fox Moth from behind Japanese lines. It got left behind so Father Glover went back for it.

I know the Fox Moth is a small plane, but it is still a plane. Didn’t the Japs notice a Fox Moth being appropriated?

Bill shook his head. Glover and Nagy were very, very quiet when they took it and didn’t start the engine to fly it out. Instead they floated it out along a river on a raft they built around it. I hear that it took them nine days. Again George laughed so hard he couldn’t catch his breath, and Bill joined in. When they finally stopped laughing, Bill had reached the aerodrome and parked. Both sat silent, staring at each other, exhausted from their laughter.

George said soberly, I know that it’s not funny; this is about two brave men who are missing in action by trying to get through with news, but it is so ridiculous. They’ve gambled their lives on a bedpan and an enema syringe to tell us what we already know.

Bill nodded agreement. And most of those refugees have already set out to walk on to Mt. Hagen ahead of the Japanese, so their news is old news.

George asked, Can we do anything?

Pray, offered Bill.

George withdrew slightly and Bill noticed, but he still reminded George, All we can do is trust to God, and to luck.

Hell of a way to run a war, trusting to luck. George muttered.

It’s all we have, most days.

George nodded sombrely as he agreed, Unfortunately! Why did we put so much trust in Britain’s Singapore strategy, when Japan was busy rearming? We even sold Japan the metal to make guns, back in ’38. George was silent for a moment before he added, Fingers crossed that they get through.

Who? Lieutenant Champion in the Laurabada, or Father Glover and Nagy in their Fox Moth?

Either! Both! All! Here’s hoping we all get through this war, with luck.

Wednesday, 1 April, 1942 (early afternoon)

TOWNSVILLE, QUEENSLAND: The American hospital

Dr. Blake escorted a silent Maureen into Betty’s room as he asked, Do you know this woman, Mrs. Lewis?

Betty’s huge smile and open arms answered him even before Betty exclaimed, Maureen! I am so pleased to see you! Come meet my babies. Betty gestured to her twins in their cribs but Maureen still didn’t answer. Betty looked at Maureen wondering what had discombobulated her normally imperturbable friend, as Maureen walked over to the cribs against the wall to look at the twins. Betty frowned. Are you all right? Maureen? Is there something wrong?

Maureen remained silent, staring at the babies, but Dr. Blake shuffled his feet before asking, Mrs. Lewis, is this woman Japanese?

Betty’s peal of laughter again answered his question before she could speak. Finally she stopped laughing to ask, Is this an April Fool’s Day joke?

Dr. Blake snapped, Certainly not! and Betty looked quickly at Maureen who was still stiffly silent, then back at Dr. Blake before she asked suspiciously, I expected Maureen to collect me this morning. What happened?

Dr. Blake was silent so after a withering glance at him Maureen answered bitterly, I got arrested by the American MP’s as an enemy alien.

Betty gasped and Maureen nodded angrily, Despite your written invitation and Dr. Blake’s authorisation, being Asian is enough to get you arrested now in Australia even if you are born here!

That’s bloody ridiculous! exclaimed Betty.

Must I remind you that we are at war, Mrs. Lewis! Dr. Blake was provoked into defending his countrymen.

I don’t need reminding, thank you very much! snapped Betty, and instantly retorted, Must I remind you that my husband is stationed in Port Moresby? He’s bombed every day while we sit out the war safely here in Townsville.

Dr. Blake flushed and Betty subsided for a moment, until she looked at the still silent Maureen and her temper boiled over when she saw how upset and embarrassed her friend was by being arrested. Betty rattled in again. God help us all if one of Australia’s major allies can’t recognize another major ally. Maureen is Chinese, not Japanese! Dr. Blake remained silent so Betty continued angrily, Do you know that China has been at war with Japan since 1937? That’s two years before us, and four years before you lot joined in! Both our nations are Johnny-come-lately’s when you compare them to China! Betty shook her head, What are you going to do if you actually go north, where the fighting is? How are you going to tell friend from foe?

Dr. Blake shifted his feet uneasily before he answered sharply, Well, she’s here now so she can get to work. Maureen and Betty both turned to stare at him silently and Dr. Blake realised that he had again misinterpreted the situation, even though he didn’t know how. He decided it was time for him to exit and offered a brisk, Goodbye, I’ll arrange for the MP’s to escort you off American property safely, as he quickly backed through the door.

As the door closed behind him Maureen said bitterly, So I must be a servant if I’m not a spy!

Betty still couldn’t speak, she was so astounded. It wasn’t until Maureen said quietly, Let’s get moving, and began to gather Betty’s belongings that Betty started laughing again.

Maureen didn’t appreciate the joke but Betty’s laugh was so infectious that finally Maureen smiled even as she said, It’s not funny, you know!

Betty couldn’t answer immediately but finally gasped out, Oh, yes it is! It’s a delicious joke! Maureen, does Dr. Blake know your name?

Yes, answered a surprised Maureen. Why is that so funny?

Because he was at the forefront of naming the twins; the whole boiling hospital was involved. You’d think that nobody ever gave birth to twins before the way everybody here made such a fuss of us. Betty paused reflectively before she continued, It probably made a nice change for them to have a maternity case, and then for them to get two babies at once was a bonus. They have spoiled us rotten here, even Jack.

Maureen nodded, puzzled. But what has that got to do with me?

Betty grinned, Dr. Blake suggested we name the boy Michael, seeing that I’d already named the girl Maureen after my best friend. Just think how stupid he will feel when he remembers that, and realises that his mates not only arrested his prize patient’s best friend, but then he added insult to injury!

By this time Maureen laughed as hard as Betty, before she sat down abruptly on the bed to demand in surprise, You named your daughter after me?

Betty nodded proudly, She even looks like you.

Maureen started to laugh again as she asked, How did you manage that?

Damned if I know, answered Betty happily, everyone else in our family is a dishwater blonde like me or a ginger like Jack, and Mick will probably be a redhead too because he’s the spit and image of Jack at that age, but check out our little beauty. She was born with a thatch of thick black straight hair, and she’s so pretty with her olive skin. Betty looked at her daughter proudly as she said, Everyone adores her. They all call her their little princess.

Olive skin? queried Maureen, frowning.

Betty shrugged, The nurses call it jaundice; they say it’s common in newborns. They say too that her beautiful hair will all fall out and that’s also common with newborns, but just look at her now, Maureen. Isn’t she beautiful? And she is so placid, not like Mick the lad. He’s going to be a handful, just like his big brother Jack.

Just then an Army nurse entered the room asking, Are you ready to go, Mrs. Lewis? Do you need any help?

Betty answered, Thank you Ada. I’m glad you came in. I want you to meet my best friend Maureen, the lady that our baby Maureen is named after. Betty winked at Maureen who was hard pressed not to laugh as her friend Betty made sure that Dr. Blake would soon be aware of his mistake.

Ada smiled at Maureen saying, We sure will all miss our little princess Maureen. The nurse turned to Betty, Just make sure you bring both our babies back here often for a visit, so that we can keep up with their progress. And don’t you leave Jack at home, when you come. We will all miss Jack.

Betty grinned and nodded, saying, Just as long as you promise that the MP’s won’t arrest me!

Ada grinned, No fear of that after today. Dr. Blake certainly raked them over the coals! which made Betty and Maureen exchange looks before they grinned at each other and giggled like a couple of naughty schoolgirls, instead of the mature no-nonsense matriarchs they both claimed to be.

Where are we going? asked Betty as she settled into the back of Maureen’s car and settled her new son on her lap, assisted by Maureen’s driver and a bevy of helpful nurses.

Maureen was already ensconced in the back seat of the car, cuddling her namesake and staring at baby Maureen as though she had never seen a baby before. Mmmm? answered Maureen absently.

Where are we going? repeated Betty smiling at her friend, but this time she didn’t even get a murmur in reply. Maureen was totally in thrall to the baby, who appeared to be as enthralled with Maureen. They stared at each other wide-eyed, communing on some silent level.

Maureen! called Betty loudly, and Maureen came out of her dream to say, You know, although her eyes are so dark as to look brown, I think they are really blue when you look at them in the sunlight!

What? asked Betty, and leaned over to look closely at her daughter’s face. They both studied the baby in silence for a minute before Betty admitted, You could be right. Maybe her eyes are blue, but you must admit her skin is much darker than either of her brothers, and her hair is definitely black.

Maureen nodded agreement but didn’t take her eyes off the baby, smiling and gently rocking her as she crooned, I’ve got another little princess just like you at home. You’ll be able to play together, when you get older.

Where are we going? asked Jack from the front seat.

Maureen roused from her fascination with baby Maureen to reply, That depends on your mother. She turned to Betty saying, Do you want to stay in Townsville? I will miss you, but I will understand if you decide to head south. A lot of people have left already.

Betty frowned and asked, Because of the Japanese invading? The whole hospital is talking about the Brisbane Line, and what it will mean if Queensland surrenders. Do you really believe the government will withdraw the troops to just north of Brisbane, and leave us civilians stranded here?

Maureen grimaced. It’s possible. We’re Chinese, so we’ve been left behind before, but my family has made an emergency plan for us to get away if we need. There may have only been the one attack on Townsville so far, but everybody knows the Japs could land at any time. The southbound trains are crowded, along with the roads.

Betty thought for a moment before she asked, Is that why I haven’t heard from my cousin?

Maureen nodded again sadly.

Betty answered briefly, Nice!

Maureen hurried into speech, You can’t really blame her. She couldn’t find another house and they were all living in a shed, just one big room for all of them. Everyone’s worried about the Japanese, and then the government offered them all seats on a train going south because they didn’t have anywhere to live … Maureen’s voice trailed off as Betty began nodding.

I can’t blame her. In her position, I would probably do the same thing. Betty looked at Jack before she added, "I just hope that I would have