No Angry Shots ...

Dougal paraded the company in the MI Block and regaled us of the riches ahead. The Barracks, The Sepik River, Muschu Island and a company trek through the St Andrew mountains. Dougal spoke of Sepik prawns, prawns so large you could feed a platoon for a week, as well as a river infested with crocodiles. He sounded pumped, we believed, and the trip sounded great.

The rafting required us to make Section rafts from drums, timber and lashings, and then float down the Sepik to Dagua. We didn’t know that at the time, Dagua in PNG means Mosquito. We arrived at the Church Mission the next day, and with the help of the Pacific Island Regiment guys, we start to make rafts. 44 gallon drums, cut trees, lashed with the help of the pioneers. They looked pretty cool. And each section had their own raft.

The raft making took all day. Pop Lanigan was my 2IC, he oversaw construction, and we had Jed, Ox and BJ. We tested the construction and were satisfied, it floated.

It was a fun long day in the tropics. Bloody hot mostly. So, we put up our hootchies. And probably for the first time in our DP1 history, our mosquito nets. They were a DP1 item, so had been dragged out of our trunks more times than I'd been bush in the battalion. And we spent a lot of time bush. It gets dark, and there is no power at the village. But the Mission hut has a light. And as it gets darker, we begin to appreciate the night that lies ahead. The Mosquitos are horrendous. Every square metre around that light homed about 80 kilograms of Angry Mosquito. They are thicker than the pile of broken glass at Stilletoes on a Sunday morning.

Soon we realise the only defence is our mosquito nets. The nets don't ward off the buzzing or silence the bastards when they are feeding. We are in big trouble. Even sleeping with my head in the foot end of my sleeping bag didn’t help.

9 hours darkness. At best 30 minutes sleep. At best.

We stir, eat. Spam.The cooks had brought down a fresh meal - thanks guys.

And then all section commanders were issued SLRs with a magazine of live rounds. Dougal had told us about the crocodiles, the rounds were to shoot any digger if they got taken by a croc. We launch our rafts, life vests on. The start of a new journey.

Willy and Wazza have brought a bottle of spirits each.

Have you ever been to a Karaoke bar where it’s fucking awful, and they won't give up the mike? The first day was like that until 15:00.

We’re rafting, the tide is taking us to Dagua. Ready for the biggest feast of Sepik prawns in history. We hook up rafts with Ash and his section and it’s a pretty low key day. Every village we pass the villagers canoe out with cooked yam (sweet potato) and want salt and condiments. We oblige. They refuse our offers of Spam sandwiches.

The afternoon we had been briefed that CAPT Hall, ex Pioneers - affectionately called Musclehead because he was built like a brick shithouse; would be bringing the Zodiacs and towing us into a safe harbour. This started with Willy's raft, he thought there was a BottleO there. Then another raft.

Now I'm not a sailor, though my Dad had been in the Navy. But if you're going to pick a harbour spot, my pick would not be the tightest bend on the river where every raft is at maximum speed. But I'm just a simple soldier, an infantryman by choice. I am not an Officer, trained by the greatest institution known to man. Anyway, the Company 2IC is struggling. He's got 10 rafts on the river, it’s getting dark, and he has secured 3. Including Temps and his section with Kav.

Our rafts sailed past waving to the Company 2IC. Mouthing something like Bye Sucker, which sounded a lot like Bye Sir.

Once we passed, we knew we were freeballing, he could never have got us back against the tide. After our first night we were grateful we had mossie nets. The mossies were worse at the harbour on the inside bend on the fastest part of the river. Kav didn’t bring his mossie net. He technically wasn’t DP1. He was eaten alive. How we laughed when Temps told us that.

A final note. In tropical countries Diggers were given anti malaria tablets. Taken on parade and logged in a Company or Platoon Roll Book as evidence, mostly because we couldn’t be trusted.

Dougal trusted us. We couldn't be trusted.​