A narrative by Thomas Minto, 1st Mate of “Manunda”, 1939-1943.

The difficulty in relating events concerning shipping during World War II is that we were forbidden to make or keep records of our movements. Each voyage our Log Books were landed. In this way, should a vessel be captured only the minimum information would pass into enemy hands. This rule applied strictly to us minnows. History has shown that High Authorities did keep diaries. Where dates are given, they have been gathered from Official Histories, my Discharge Papers, etc.

Our Bomb Damage Repairs were completed in Port Adelaide and we proceeded to Sydney. On 16th August 1942 we commenced the first of 27 voyages to New Guinea and the Pacific War Area.

On the second voyage we were ordered to Milne Bay to load patients. No further details were supplied. We were well aware that there was a war on but, as far as we were concerned, we were going to Australian controlled New Guinea territory. It was the afternoon of 6th September 1942 as we approached Samaria Straits. This Strait separates the S.E. tip of New Guinea and the off-lying islands. It was strange territory to all of us.

As we neared the land an Australian destroyer steamed out of the Strait and passed us at high speed. It was HMAS “Arunta”. We wondered at his haste. We had the answer within a few hours. He was a very wise man indeed to avoid battle with an enemy cruiser.

We entered the Strait and Milne Bay opened up to Port. It proved to be a magnificent harbour about 25 miles long and up to 10 miles wide. It was very deep. Our echo sounder had a maximum register of 120 fms. And we were getting NO BOTTOM. Darkness had fallen. On our Starbd. Side we could see gun flashes on the shore. We did not know it at the time that we were witnessing the final stages of the first defeat of Japanese Land Forces in World War II.

As we approached the head of the Bay we could see a few lights ashore and the echo sounder started to register 60 fms, 50 fms and 30 fms indicating rapid shoaling. By this time, Capt. Garden had reduced speed and we came to anchor in 10 fms. It was now about 8 pm and night had fallen. We had a problem.

Hospital ships are painted white with a broad green band around the hull. There are also prominent Red Crosses on the ships sides and on the deck, clearly visible from the sea and the air. At night the green band is lit with green lights and the crosses with red lights.

When at sea at night we were always illuminated. In port it was a different matter. If we lit up we gave away the position of the Harbour. We ensured our own safety at the expense of others. Our instructions were:-

In PORT without PATIENTS NO LIGHTS Take your chance with everybody else. In PORT with PATIENTS was at the Master's discretion.

In my time in the ”Manunda”, with one exception, we were never in port at night with patients on board. We always loaded and sailed the same day.

The one exception was the night of 19/20 February 1942 in Darwin, the night of the raid. We were bombed and damaged on the morning of 19th February and when night fell we had a considerable number of badly wounded people on board. We blacked out that night. I suppose the reasoning was – we had been deliberately bombed in daylight. It would be foolish to light up and invite another attack.

To Resume. I don’t remember but I presume that the last stages of our passage up Milne Bay was made with all lights on. We were now in Port. WHAT TO DO. Capt. Garden made a very wise decision – LEAVE THE LIGHTS ON.

HMAHS Manunda 6 September 2023 Milne Bay
The Japanese Cruiser Tenryu and Destroyer Arashi sink the British freighter MV Anshun at Gili Gili wharf. The Japanese illuminate Manunda by searchlight but do not attack.

We were all very edgy. We were at anchor in an active war zone. Flashes of gun fire continued on the north side of the bay. It was hot. It was raining. (It was always raining in Milne Bay.) There had been no communication with the shore. We had been deliberately bombed in Darwin a few months previously. We were lit up like a Christmas Tree. All we could do was to close all watertight bulkhead openings, have all lifeboats swung out in a state of readiness, and keep your life jacket close at hand. Never ever sleep with the cabin door closed, as a jammed door could be a death sentence. Ships’ portholes are too small diameter to get through.

About 11 pm ALL HELL BROKE LOOSE. It was big stuff and it was coming from seaward. Two, perhaps three, vessels were firing, not at us, but over us, at some target ashore. Now we knew why “Arunta” was in such a hurry. We controlled Milne Bay waters with air power by day, the Japanese with naval power by night.

We were now all at Fire Stations, fervently hoping that the Geneva Convention was going to be respected this time. I had made up my mind. One hit might be accidental, two would convince me it was time to get somewhere else and FAST. The shelling ceased. Unharmed, we breathed again. Still no word from the shore. We reverted to Sea Watches and sought what sleep we could. As “Manunda” had 4 Mates I did not keep a watch but I was on tap 24 hours a day, the same as the Master.

Fred Utting was the 2nd Mate on the 4-8 am watch. As daylight broke I was up and about. Fred called me to the Bridge. “What do you make of that?” as he handed me the binoculars. In the foreground was a low islet. Just clear of its tip appeared to be a ship’s life raft. It was standing vertically and a little above water level. We were looking at the stern of a vessel lying on her side with the raft in its stowage position abreast in the mainmast. The vessel was the MV “Anshun”, the target for the previous night’s shelling.

About 8 am a launch came off with a senior Medical Officer, Colonel Maitland, and a conference was held with the Manunda’s” Medical staff, Maitland, Capt. Garden and myself.

Colonel Maitland informed us that he had more than 100 wounded and sick men and the number was growing rapidly. They were in urgent need of our assistance. He turned to Capt. Garden and said: “The wharf is destroyed with a sunken vessel alongside. We place ourselves unreservedly in your hands as practical seamen to arrange the embarkation.” He could not have expressed himself better. Psychology must have been one of his best subjects!

Garden hailed from Lossiemouth, Scotland. He was a contemporary of Ramsay MacDonald. His brother was Jock Garden, a very well known figure in Union circles in the 1930’s. He had very strong convictions about strong drink. When I was with him in the S.S. “Arkaba” I saw him stand at the top of the gangway. As a drunken fireman weaved his way along the wharf and up the gangway, Garden would relive him of his bottles and smash them on the rail. Try that in 1984!

As for us Mates, if Garden saw you coming back from a spell ashore you could rest assured that within 3 minutes the Steward would be telling you “The Old Man wants to see you.” Talk about Close Encounter. He just about embraced you trying to smell your breath. We all kept toothpaste ready and cleaned our teeth before answering the summons. Brave characters would chew raw onions. Those were the Depression Years. A job was a job.

So, not from him the merry quip, the light banter. He knew life was not meant to be easy long before Malcolm Fraser ever heard of it! But Garden was an extremely competent Ship Master. He could handle the “Manunda” as if it were a row boat dropping alongside a wharf. As if drawn with a magnet. He also believed in discipline. Very useful in 1942.

At Maitland’s statement a rare smile creased his craggy face. At last. Someone had recognized the Merchant Service in general and himself in particular. He turned to me and said: “Go ashore with the Military and see what you can find out.”

Off I went in Maitland’s launch. The ”Anshun” and her berth was impossible. Nearby was a small finger jetty, apparently used by small boats in peace time. It was known as Gilli Gilli. I asked: “Can you get the patients to this jetty?” “No problem” said the Colonel. “How soon?” “First truck load in 2 hours. After that as fast as you can take them.”

Back to “Manunda” to report to Capt. Garden and the Medical Staff.

The main engines were always on Stand by in a War Zone. The anchor was weighed and Capt. Garden edged the “Manunda” close to the shore, using the echo sounder, bringing her up in very shallow water indeed. We were barely afloat with a short run to Gilli Gilli.

Meanwhile, we were getting our boats ready. Our experiences in the Middle East had caused us to fit portable wooden platforms between the thwarts of our lifeboats. This enabled us to carry 8 stretcher cases and 12 walking wounded per boat load. We had practised this type of embarkation and our Medical staff were very well organized in carrying it out.

We started with the two motor boats each towing one lifeboat. As the loaded boat came under the davits, they were hooked on, loaded as they were, and hoisted to the main deck. Orderlies, every one free, whisked the patients away to the various wards, according to their needs as directed by the Medical Officers.

So close had Capt. Garden taken “Manunda” to the shore, and so smoothly did things go, that we dispensed with the towed boats, using the 2 motor boats only.

Ashore they were equally on top of it. During my time in “Manunda” (I left her in July 1943) this was the fastest embarkation we every carried out. Memories of the previous night may have helped. We were certainly all keen to get away.

As the last patient came aboard, up came the anchor and we set off at full speed down Milne Bay and through the Strait before darkness fell, Brisbane bound. I still don’t know if that Japanese Cruiser every came back in to Milne Bay.

We now settled down to a regular schedule Brisbane, Moresby, Milne Bay, Brisbane and we were doing the round trip every 11 days. The War was closer than many people knew.

Our loading north was Medical Personnel and Medical Stores. So severe was the wastage from malaria and dengue, it was quite common to take up Medical staff on one trip and within a month many were back as patients.

On the lighter side, I remember one patient with a neat turn of phrase. He was on a stretcher, lying on his stomach, apparently wounded in the buttocks. When he reached the main deck rail of “Manunda”, he said: “New Guinea. Land of dusky maidens, lush forests and tropical fruits. I left Australia 14 days ago. All I have seen is rain and mosquitoes and now I am on my way home with a cut in the bum!”

Time passed. The “Anshun” was salvaged and renamed “Culcairn”. She traded on the Australian Coast for many years as a unit of James Patrick’s fleet.

Milne Bay became a very important base and it was not unusual to see 50 or more ships at anchor there. We made many more trips to Milne Bay. No more naval bombardments but plenty of air alerts and raids. Only one more significant event comes to mind.

We used to unload our Medical Stores on to a flat top punt and tow it ashore with our motor boat. One day the boat had towed the punt ashore and was on his way back when the sirens went. He was closer to shore than “Manunda” and he headed for the nearest beach. There were shouts and warnings form the shore. He was heading for a mined area. He turned and headed for “Manunda”. Meanwhile we had weighed anchor and were bound for open waters well away from military targets. Observing the boat’s plight, we reduced speed to 7 knots. The boat slowly overhauled us and positioned under the davits and hooked on. I presume that once the davit falls took the weight, the launch driver stopped his motor. Whatever the reason, when the boat came clear of the water it swung in tremendous arc parallel to the ship’s side and continued to do so. The two men in the boat were hurled to the bottom and suffered severe bruising.

Boat davits are designed for vertical stresses and strains. They were swaying ominously as the boat swung back and forth. I still don’t know whether we did the right thing but we kept heaving away as fast as we could to reduce the length of the pendulum. Everything finally settled down and we secured the boat.

The boat’s crew were not pleased with me and told me so in the warmest of tones. I accepted it. They could have been right on the minor points. When they calmed down they admitted it was better than walking through a minefield.

In July 1943 I lfft “Manunda” to take over command of S.S. “Aldinga”. Capt. Garden continued in “Manunda”. He received the OBE in 1944.

Thomas Minto
1st Mate, “Manunda”, 1939-1943