Free Invasion Rabaul by Bruce Gamble Page B

Harbor, but MacArthur had been caught flat-footed in the Philippines despite hours of advance warning. For all his boasting, he was principally to blame for the near-annihilation of the Far East Air Force (FEAF), America’s largest overseas air component. Worst of all, at least from Lark Force’s viewpoint, was the realization that the Lend-Lease fortifications promised by the United States had suddenly evaporated.
    A T R ABAUL, MOST A USTRALIANS LEARNED ABOUT THE BOMBING OF P EARL Harbor from radio broadcasts. David Selby, the commander of the antiaircraft battery, first heard the news at breakfast on December 8. The mess hall conversation, he recalled,“was full of excited speculation about what was in store.” Selby knew that numerous preparations still lay ahead—the guns had to be moved from the beach, for one thing—so immediately after breakfast he met with Colonel Scanlan for instructions.
    Within hours, the two gun carriages had been towed up a narrow, serpentine road to Dr. Fisher’s volcano observatory on the North Daughter. The long-barreled guns were unlimbered on the front lawn, and soon thereafter the geologist’s residence was transformed into a fortified emplacement, every available space filled with piles of ammunition, supplies, and the personal effects of fifty-four officers and men. Fisher was aggravated at first, but in due time he accepted the necessary intrusion. Later he took up arms himself by signing on with the NGVR.
    Soon after the battery was in place, the irrepressible Aussies nailed a sign bearing the name“Frisbee Ridge” to a coconut tree. It was a tribute to their popular commander, Captain Selby, who had followed a general recommendation that officers “ought to get a bit of hair on their faces.” By cultivating a luxuriant moustache, he prompted the men to nickname him “Frisbee,” a parody of the “mythical British Army officer type.”
    Manning their guns at 0430 every morning, the crews waited for the Japanese to come. From their lofty perch atop the North Daughter, Selby and his gunners never failed to be impressed by the spectacular colors that flared across the eastern horizon each morning, and almost every eveningthey enjoyed a similar extravaganza when the sun dipped low in the western sky. However, as the days passed with no action, the gun crews grew bored with the routine.
    I N M ELBOURNE, THE W AR C ABINET SCRAMBLED TO RESPOND TO THE SUDDEN onset of war in the Pacific. Australian territory was not under immediate threat, but the Malay Peninsula had been invaded and units of the Imperial Japanese Army were rapidly advancing southward toward the 8th Division in Singapore. In response, the service chiefs made several critical decisions.
    First, anticipating that the Japanese would attempt to occupy Ambon, Timor, and Rabaul, the brass decided that the current deployment of the 23rd Brigade would have to be enough: there would be no additional strengthening of the existing garrisons. Secondly, the War Cabinet decided not to place any large ships at risk in order to assist the isolated garrisons. And lastly, realizing that the occupation of the Bismarck Archipelago would be high on Tokyo’s list of priorities, the cabinet was determined that Lark Force in particular should hold out for as long as possible.
    The Minister for External Affairs, Herbert “Doc” Evatt, clarified the situation by sending a secret cablegram to President Roosevelt via the Australian ambassador.“In making this recommendation,” he wrote, “we desire to emphasize the fact that the scale of attack which can be brought against Rabaul from bases in the Japanese mandated islands is beyond the capacity of the small garrison to meet successfully. Notwithstanding this, we consider it essential to maintain a forward air observation line as long as possible and to make the enemy fight for this line rather than abandon it at the first threat.”
    In other words, the government wanted to preserve the