By Ian Patterson, Editor and Member of the "Montoro Network" Australia:

Following are some excerpts from members of 36 and 37 Aust Wireless Task Sections, A.I.F, who sailed from Melbourne to Port Moresby ...10th to 27th July 1943.

l. I remember going down to the docks and seeing this small black vessel at the wharf. Little did I know what a great history she had had already. She was already 30 odd years old, a coal burner, well set in her ways and ready to carry out another troop carrying task. We were young, most of us in the high teens and low twenties, wanting to use our signals skills which had been drilled into us in the various camps...Tamworth, Bonegilla and others. Our equipment...heavy radio transmitters, AC generators, receivers, remote control units, antenna stuff and the rest of the gear was loaded with us and we sailed down Port Phillip bay on that Saturday afternoon, ready for anything.

There must have been about 100 of us, so there was no overcrowding. Montoro had been a luxurious passenger ship in the island trade,& everybody was well accommodated, although it was a bit off-putting to find that we had to cook for ourselves due to industrial trouble in the galley. However even this was a something we had been used to out in the country on training camps, and in a later extract this gets a mention.

The days were spent in various ways...submarine look out, more drill, more training, more health talks, kitchen work, and after hours activities included a newspaper (The Montoro Monitor), games of chance ? and /or skill ?, theatrical extravaganzas ! and all in all things were pretty good, even the Motu language lessons. At Sydney we coaled at the wharf in Walsh Bay, and a few jumped ship to see their families.

No one failed to return , and we continued up the coast. Our Captain Rothery was a seasoned veteran, with few but well chosen words. I am reminded of his answer to the naive question “Captain, do the submarines attack during the day or night?”. His answer was to the point.....”Yes”.

Near the Whitsundays there were various assorted ships all waiting for us to guide them, and for the rest of the trip we had quite a few followers, even slower than our 13 knots top. But that’s enough from me, and I’ll let others tell their story.

Ian Paterson

2. My memories of the Montoro are vivid but limited. The catering corps did not arrive in time and two volunteers were recruited from a deck parade. I shared the galley with George, a part Chinese who was a native of Brisbane and who cooked for the officers and crew. I got a menu from the Captain daily and prepared a meal of porridge , baked dinner and sweets. One day George explained that the tap I used for the porridge was sea water. There had been no complaints, but when I switched to tank water the next day there were grumbles so I switched back to sea water the next day. At night soup was also served and I recall asking George one day where the cornflour was kept so I could thicken it. He told me it was the first bin in the pantry. When made the mixture of cornflour and water was poured into the soup, causing a decent explosion. My right arm was scalded and the ships doctor treated it with a purple dye, which effected a miracle cure, so I was able to continue as cook. I had used the first bin on the right, containing baking powder, instead of the first on the left.

During the day I assisted the Editor of the” Montoro Monitor”. This led to the production of the cameo play staged in the main stateroom . I was one of the main players and Peter Bradstreet played Miss Susie, “an untamed flower of the wildwoods”. The performance was viewed by Captain and crew and of course the troops. Peter’s female attire was provided by one of the crew.

He supplied a floral dress, a wig and lipstick and powder , all supposedly left behind when Montoro was in coastal trips prewar. The Monitor became a daily newsletter , pinned to the ship’s notice board.

There was a regular dice game, run by a regular tail bettor. One day one of the boys spun 17 heads. At 7 heads the tail bettor went off for more funds and rejoined at the eleventh head throw. At the 18th it was a tail, and at this time I had a shirt full of money, but there was little left of this when we got to Moresby!

Vin O’Dwyer

3. As a young soldier on his first trip away from Australia I remember the excitement of our early morning departure from Bonegilla. Our war diary says we sailed from Melbourne at 1700 on the 10.7.43. I still recall staying on deck as Montoro passed between the channel marker beacons of Port Phillip Bay, but I can’t remember whether we were in convoy or not. Our cabin was a small airless cubbyhole well down below deck near the waterline, and I think 6 of us shared it in tiered bunks, but as we only went below at night to sleep, it was certainly no hardship. As I recall, the Wireless Sections were the only troops on board, and there was no crowding. We were particularly impressed with the food and conditions in the dining room, with its tablecloths and stewards service...certainly a change from Bonegilla, and what was to follow.

I remember the weather from Melbourne to Sydney as dull and cold, but our arrival in the harbour in the early morning was fine as we waved to the workers as they passed on the ferries. Two days in Sydney passed quickly, and it was strange for the Sydney boys to be so close to home without any contact. A few of them went AWL on the second night, but they all made sure they were back on board before we sailed.

For the rest of the voyage I believe the weather was good and I certainly remember the hours on submarine watch, tucked away in a corner of the bridge wing watching the other ships in our convoy and the escorts fussing away on the horizon, and occasional aircraft overhead [I think they were Ansons]. We anchored in Moreton Bay for a couple of days, with a good view of the Glasshouse Mountains. I suppose we were waiting for more ships to join the convoy. Then we were away for Townsville, through the reef with hours at the rail watching the flying fish skipping over the waves.

Apart from P.T. and a few deck sports (boxing mainly) we had some time to ourselves, and I recall the Crown and Anchor and Swi games, and there was a long running poker game in the saloon, where Billy Bollin was a big winner. I had had a splitting headache for the first week or so, and finally I went to see the Ship’s Doctor. To me he was a very old man [probably in his 50s], of great girth and ruddy face and daunting demeanor. I have vague recollections of a bushy beard. At any rate he cured me with a huge No.9. “Change of diet”, he growled.

After a couple of days in Townsville it was off across the Coral Sea at a steady plod of what appeared to be 8 or 9 knots. I don’t think any Australian troops could have had a more pleasant troopship experience than we lucky few, and it was with mixed feelings we saw the mountains of New Guinea loom over the horizon , and then it was in to Moresby harbour and all the bustle of disembarkation.

Keith Clarke

4. Saturday 10th July started at a very early hour for us. I’ve got 2am in mind but could be corrected. It was typically very dark and very cold.,. par for the course in Bonegilla. We got a scratch up breakfast and then off to Albury station in trucks. The train trip to Melbourne was tedious and we arrived at No 1 platform Spencer Street about noon. I go past there frequently and always think of 10.7.43. An order was given ..”drop your gear on the platform where you stand”.

A piquet was put on the gear and we filed off to the Victorian RRR for a pie and mashed spuds, a bread roll and butter and a cup of tea. It went down very well as breakfast seemed a long time ago.

Next, on to trucks which took us to South Berth in the Yarra, where the mighty Montoro was lying alongside, all 4000 tons of her, and being of 1913 vintage I thought she looked like “Chaff Cutter Charlie”. Lined up on the wharf, we were told that there was still a lot of frozen meat to load, needed by the army to break the bully- beef monotony. The wharfies had buzzed off at 1400 hours and the ship had to sail at 1700 to catch the tide. We filed on board , being checked off on the embarkation roll according to a number on a piece of cardboard which was worn on your hat. [Some expert from army records did this]. Volunteers were called to load the meat, so some of us dressed up in fur coats, hats and gloves to unload slings in the refrigerated holds from the winches driven by the ships crew.

Montoro had not been stripped of its peacetime cabins so we were 4 to a 3 berth cabin. The 4th bloke [me] had a stretcher down the middle. We were on a deck below the main deck [B deck] and by troopship standards pretty comfortable. The next crisis was that the ships cooks were on strike..[ not the officers cooks!], so volunteers again. Our two blokes helped out and did a pretty good job too. We found the food quite good.

We sailed on time and were on our way to war. The arrival off Ulladulla during Monday gripped me with a bout of homesickness at the sight of Pigeon House Mountains, so named by Captain James Cook in 1770. I had spent many happy times in this area of the NSW south coast at Burrill Lake where my foster father had a holiday shack. My mind went back to 1940, when some of us had taken 4 days to ride horses to the top of Pigeon House, and I recalled the view from 2400 feet up, and the millions of Christmas bells......just fabulous!

Arrived off Sydney after a calm and pleasant voyage in the later part of the evening of Monday 12 July. We could see the flashes of the power poles on the trams bouncing along the wires at Bondi Beach. The blackout showed these up clearly. In through the heads to tie up at No 2 Walsh Bay, almost under the bridge, the trains on the bridge sounding like thunder. I was within 7 miles of home and mother, but not a chance to see either. I was 19 years and 3 months old.

Tuesday dawned and the Chief Steward was rushing about to get the whole ship closed up. The coaling lighter came alongside and started to tip coal ...it crashed and banged its way down a steel chute. This din and the heavy film of coal dust went on both day and night when finally it stopped and we were able to sleep peacefully. On Thursday morning [15th July] we took off in a convoy for places North. Leaving the harbour we waved to all the girls going to work on the ferries. I was homesick again , but the harbour sparkled in the winter sun, and the fine and calm weather continued.

To follow army protocol, men eat first, then NCO’s, then Officers and ship’s Officers. It was the habit of Captain Rothery to park his cap on a small table just inside the door of the saloon while at mess. During dinner some ‘goat’ of the A.I.F pinched the cap. A muster parade was called and a threatened closure of the wet canteen until further notice or until the cap was returned produced the desired result !A bout lunchtime on Friday 16th July we were off the north coast of NSW. There was firing and depth charging by the escort, 2 US Destroyers and 4 RAN Corvettes. By mid afternoon I noticed the sun was on our right. We must be going south, I thought even though I hadn’t noticed us turning around. At mess time it was announced there had been a submarine scare . One of the escort ships had received a “ping” on its Asdic, hence the commotion.

All were on edge, as Centaur had been torpedoed off Moreton Bay on 14th May, just 2 months before. The convoy had scattered and we would be traveling south until midnight, then north at the best speed we could muster unescorted. Since about 12 knots was flat chat we didn’t think there was much hope of outrunning a submarine on the surface. Arriving at Moreton Bay unscathed, we anchored. Then daily small arms inspection. Rifles, Owens and Brens get quickly rusty at sea. An hours PT, then relax, read and watch the flying gurnards.

Joining another convoy, we sailed for Townsville. A boxing tournament was organised. In the heavyweight division was “The masked mastodon” [can’t remember his real name}. Despite the intimidation he was out pointed. In the lightweight division my mate Jack Kennedy, only a little bloke, took a fair amount of punishment from his opponent who should have been a welterweight. It was a good diversion for all. On arrival at Townsville we tied up to a Yank ship, which was itself tied up at the wharf. Beautiful Magnetic Island on our right. Nobody was allowed to leave the ship except Sgt Aub Miller of 36 W/T Section , who stood armed with a .38 Smith and Wesson revolver. Years later on an Anzac Day reunion Aub said “I don’t think I could have shot any of the boys trying to go ashore anyway”.

After a couple of days we took off in another convoy to cross the Coral Sea. The speed of the convoy is always governed by the speed of the slowest ship, which in our case was an LST [ Landing Ship Tank] towing a floating crane. Its speed was 4 knots, and of course we were all apprehensive . The LST was directly behind us, and it almost made one seasick to see first its nose in the air, the it’s tail. It got very hot, as we were by then at about 10 degrees south latitude, and ventilation was top priority. At night we opened an oblong trap door in our cabin which led to “A” deck, at deck level. It acted very well as an air scoop, until the weather got up and we took a wave over the bow, which came along A deck and through the trapdoor. Much sloshing about ensued! The rough sea continued and there were plenty of people hanging over the rail.

On Sunday 27th July we finally arrived in Moresby harbour. The Owen Stanleys seemed to overshadow the whole place, and in a few weeks we would be flying over them. An RAN pontoon was brought alongside and we disembarked on to it and were then towed to shore.

Our 17 days on Montoro were something to remember into our old age, particularly as most of us were very young and had never been to sea before, further we were on our way to an uncertain future .Not the most important, but probably one of the most vivid memories is that of the Two-up game which started as we left Melbourne. I think it was organised by a officer in command of the Navy 4 inch gun. Most left it minus some or all of the money we had, except one Cypher Corporal who struck it rich. He says it is his greatest memory of the dear old Montoro.

Arthur Close

5. Melbourne-Port Moresby July 1943. What a trip!. I can vividly remember sailing from Melbourne on a beautiful Saturday afternoon. There were 120 of us, all specialists including intelligence and wireless. The ship was the merchant vessel Montoro, one of the Burns Philp fleet. We arrived in Sydney . Leave was not allowed. Later the old VDC guard suggested that you could leave via the stern hawser, so we went and headed for Kings Cross. After a good meal at a restaurant we were spotted by an officer from the unit and raced back on board, to hear tales of the Yanks getting all the girls in town as they had more money. A few days later I had to go before the Officer to explain my absence from the ship , but apart from that the rest of the voyage was great. The conditions and meals were good, and we had plenty of space. My thoughts were that if this was going to war, it would do me!. On reflection the merchant navy did a wonderful job. They carried out their duties with little protection. All they had was a heap of young fellows with rifles and big egos. They were vulnerable, and we could have ended up like the Centaur.

Reg Montgomery