Montevideo Maru: the truth lies at the bottom

Published in The Courier. View the original article here.

BY ANDREW EALES
02 Jul, 2010 03:20 PM

THE fall of Rabaul, New Guinea, in early 1942 was a

disaster for Australia’s armed forces.

The Japanese, having moved swiftly into south-east Asia and the western Pacific were about to make an audacious bid for Australia.

When Rabaul came under attack, there was no way out.

Australian efforts to protect the airfields around Rabaul was futile against the onslaught of a Japanese army with 70,000 men.

On January 23, Colonel John Scanlan ordered a withdrawal from Rabaul of Australia’s Lark Force.

The Australian troops were hopelessly outnumbered, poorly equipped and had no plan of withdrawal. A large portion of the men who formed Lark Force were from regional and rural Victoria.

Only 400 escaped. More than 150 were killed, more than 800 were taken prisoner in camps in New Guinea. Other civilians working in Rabaul were also taken to the camps.

In February, the Japanese launched an attack on Darwin.

Famously, in May, they attempted to take Sydney by sea.

A little more than one month later, prisoners from Rabaul were ordered on the Montevideo Maru, bound for the Japanese held Hainan Island, off China.

On its journey to Hainan Island, the Montevideo Maru, carrying more than 1000 prisoners of war and civilians was intercepted by American submarine the USS

Sturgeon in the South China Sea off the Philippines. Unaware that there were Australian POWs on board, the Sturgeon torpedoed the ship at 2.29am on July 1, 1942. Within 10 minutes, the ship sank.

Most of those on board were locked in the ship’s hull when it sank. No Australian survived.

It’s believed most of the prisoners drowned. There was

little time for panic. There was no time for dying wishes. There was no escape.

It remains Australia’s worst maritime disaster. But most

people have never heard of it. Or heard the stories of the family members who are still seeking answers to questions that remain relevant today.

The story of the Montevideo Maru has been hidden.

Downgraded among the annals of Australia’s triumphs. It’s been pushed to one side. Shrouded in mystery. Details were coveredup.

In Federal Parliament this week, almost 70 years since the sinking, the government expressed regret over the disaster to surviving family members of those who died on the Montevideo Maru.

It was not until three years after the Montevideo Maru went down that the Japanese transferred a roll of those

captured at Rabaul to Australian authorities.

In the intervening period, families waited, day-by-day,

hoping against hope that their loved ones would soon return home.

As Veterans Affairs Minister Alan Griffin alluded to in

parliament this week, it has been suspected in some parts that the Montevideo Maru did not exist and its sinking was cover for a massacre of prisoners and

civilians.

Mr Griffin says that while he understands the speculation,

historical records now uncovered prove otherwise.

The Australian War Memorial has photos of the vessel in its records and that reports from September 1945 suggested that a ship fitting the description of the

Montevideo Maru had indeed sunk. Further searches of the Tokyo Prisoner of War register found a list of more than 1000 names — a mix of prisoners and civilians.

Those lost from Rabaul are recognised at a number of

memorials, both in Australia and overseas. The prisoner memorial in Ballarat has its own acknowledgment.

Ballarat MP Catherine King this week told parliament those who perished from the Ballarat region included Corporal Cheney, Private Gribble, Corporal Hicks, Lance Corporal Hodder, Lance Corporal Kirkpatrick, Private Ladner, Private Morgan, Private Reid, Private Tulloch and Private Wythe.

Daylesford’s Alan Godfrey, and his daughters Emma and Sue, were among the 350 relatives of those who perished who attended parliament this week.

His brother Private Geoff Godfrey enlisted when he was just 17 and was one person thought to be on the Maru. He was posted with Lark Force at Rabaul.

Alan was 11 and living in Ballarat when he was told his brother had died. Initially, the government had provided a telegram which stated his brother had been taken

prisoner. Three years later a telegram was sent saying he was believed to have died.

‘‘As a youngest it didn’t hit us as much as it did in later years,’’ Alan says.

Since, his family has spent years asking questions. Seeking information.

‘‘There’s still been no definitive truth as to who was on board,’’ he says.

‘‘Others have been trying, my family’s been trying, for years to get information about it and we were told ‘forget about it, don’t ask questions’.’’

Recognition by the government this week is the first step in a long healing process.

‘‘It was disbelief for the start that they (the government) would formally recognise it after 68 years.

‘‘We see it as ‘now the government has come clean and

admitted this disaster has happened’ they may try to find it.

‘‘They know exactly where it went down.’’

Of the Australian civilians thought to have died aboard the Montevideo Maru, was Irish man Walter Ryan.

Walter had moved to the island in 1931 to work for local trading company BP. Walter was due for leave in December 1941 but decided to hold off while his English wife, Frances, moved to Sydney to settle the children into schooling.

Walter was looking forward to following later in 1942. He never had a chance.

His daughter Julia Richardson lives in Ballarat.

She was just two when her mother moved to Sydney.

Discussing the struggles of her mother and others like her still makes Julia’s voice quiver.

She flicks through hundreds of pages of correspondence her mother had sent to authorities, including the Prime Minister and the Queen, seeking answers.

Many of her mother’s questions remain unanswered.

After Julia was told at age six that it was believed her father had drowned, it provided little closure.

She did not know her father.

There was no death certificate.

There was no funeral. She held hopes that one day, in her mind her father would be found on a deserted island, safe and sound.

She says many family members believe a degree of cover-up, initially by the Japanese but also the Australian government has shrouded the disaster and the

stories of the utter sadness experienced by everyone

connected to it.

She views this week’s ceremony as the beginning of the

process to ensure that the sinking of the Montevideo Maru is recognised as it should be.

‘‘The fact that it has never been acknowledged . . . it’s been swept under the carpet,’’ Julia said.

‘‘The tragedy of it is, that this happen on the first of July, 1942 and no-one was informed.

‘‘Evidence now has shown the Japan was aware that it had happen and the Government were aware that it happened.

‘‘We all feel angst as to why didn’t they then send a telegram to all those people ‘missing presumed drowned’.’’

Julia views this week’s ceremony in parliament as a

start, rather than an end. For some it closes a chapter. For others, the questions remain.

While some the anger has dissipated, for Alan Godfrey the closure he seeks may never be realised.

‘‘Let’s have a land search. Were they on it? Were they not on it?

‘‘Why was there no prisoners found in the water? Why?’’

‘‘The government needs to do a search to put our minds at rest.’’