March of 1942 was a terrifying time to be alive for anyone who was living in the South Pacific. The Empire of Japan had been on the offensive for 3 months and it seemed that the whole world was destined to be swallowed up by expanding empires. One place that could become a staging point for counterattack against the Japanese was Australia. Deep water ports, industrialized, as well large enough to host any number of troops, Japanese dominancy in the Pacific would never be obtained with Australia still standing. The easy steppingstone in the path to the destruction of Australia was the island of New Guinea, a place full of jungle and thick with ways to die besides war with the Japanese. When the initial Australian troops jumped over the 93-mile strait it became clear that they needed help if they were going to become victorious. They enlisted the local people of New Guinea, as well as the Papuans, not only serve as scouts and guides but as medical porters as well. Throughout the almost 4 years of war that would ravage that island, the Papuan people would be caught between two empires clashing with colonial intentions. Mistreated, abused, starved, and killed the Papuan people would come out of the war not as a broken people but ones who had created a legacy of kindness, strength, determination, and honor.
When a western member of society thinks about Papua New Guinea they think of a faraway island, with traditions we cannot understand, tribal societies that still have had no contact with the outside world. This stems from the history of western explorers as recently as the 1960s spinning tales of cannibalism and warfare inside these jungles of darkness. For instance, in 1951 K.I. Anderson claimed he first contacted the Wonenara in the Baruya Valley, sending home the usual tales of colonialism and western superiority. This valley at the time had an airstrip, a German pastor, and a patrol outpost. (Lemonnier, 295) Hardly the cover of National Geographic he was looking for. This view of a backwater country, no matter what the truth is, has spilled over into the history of World War two, mostly by historians after the wars end. A term used during the war that was a term of endearment but is spilling with western racism is the nickname, “Fuzzy Wuzzy Angels.” (Nelson, 187) This nickname was given to the people of New Guinea by the Australian soldiers that were sent to the island at the outbreak of the war. A mere holding force, the initial Australians were little more than a militia that had been thrown together by what was left in Australia. With out the Papuans defeat was certain and the Australians knew it. Quickly teaching them the terrain, how to defend against diseases, and how to survive in the never-ending rainstorms the Australians started to get an edge over the Japanese. (Riseman, 166) While instilling all this local knowledge into the Australian troops and fighting against the Japanese a legacy began to form that would change the way the world saw the people of New Guinea. It began with many Papuans being enlisted as medical porters for the Australian army. Over the course of the 3 years in this campaign there is not one single recorded instance of a Papuan, or Angel, leaving a wounded Australian behind to die. (Rogerson, Pg4) This determination and often superhuman exertion to ensure that each wounded soldier would make it back to the command post for treatment is legendary. This legacy was enshrined in 1942 with the now famous George Silk photograph where Papuan Raphael Omibari is holding the army of a wounded Australian soldier back to a medical facility. This legacy continues to today, redefining the relationship between Australia and New Guinea, as well as New Guinea and the world forever.
This was not the only form of employment that a native Papuan could receive from the Australian army. Before the war the only real work a native person could get was back breaking labor on one of the many Dutch or Australian plantations for a measly 5 schillings a day. (Nelson, 176) This all changed at the onset of World War Two, with most Australian troops fighting in North Africa and Italy at the time the only people left were the people in and around New Guinea. The Pacific Island Regiments were formed and started small with only about 600 enlistees but by the end of the war their numbers would swell 2500, seeing almost continuous combat the entire time. This gave the Papuans not only the chance to fight for their own land but also to prove to the rest of the world the fighters they were. The “skill and bravery of individuals as well as a sense of duty denied to the Japanese or Europeans is something we only see in the P.I.R.” (Nelson, 203) This unflinching sense of duty to each other and ferocity in combat was one of the pillars that the Papuans would take to the table in the 1950’s, eventually granting them independence from the Dutch.
World War Two changed every aspect of the world, borders were redrawn, empires fell while new ones rose, and societies changed. For the people of New Guinea it forced them to look at the world outside of just their island. It gave them a chance to take their place on the world stage and too demand independence. But it also allowed them to shape the way the world looked at them, creating their own legacy of kindness and resiliency instead of the colonial one of savagery and imbecility. While many since the war have tried to go back to the pre-war lens of the Papuans, they have ensured for all of time that their history will be written by their own people
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