The story of the wartime Kokoda Trail: sorting fact from fiction.

by Peter Jesser

The battle for the Kokoda Trail occupies a significant place in Australian military history. Much of the fighting to stem the Japanese advance across the Owen Stanley Range was intense, close-quarter combat fought in thick jungle and on steep slopes. Frequent rain made conditions worse. The days were hot and steamy and the nights in the mountains could be bitterly cold. Troops on both sides were weakened by disease and illness. In the first battles, the Australians lacked the supplies or weapons needed to fight effectively. But after initial setbacks during which control of the track hung in the balance, the Australian and Papuan defenders prevailed – and a legend was born.

Because of its proximity to Australia, many Australians have come to view Kokoda as a key battle which turned the tide of war against Japan. That and the significant physical and mental challenge presented by walking the track has encouraged many individuals, both young and old, to complete the Kokoda Trail as a means of gaining a better understanding of what soldiers had to endure in 1942. That the conditions experienced today are nothing like those endured during the war is not the point. The Kokoda Trail has become a place of contemplation for walkers struggling across the same steep ridges and slippery log river crossings that their forebears did.

Various histories have been written which tell the story of Kokoda from different perspectives. But as the battle for the track has taken hold in the public imagination, several new accounts of the conflict have been written to target wider audiences. Where they describe the track, these new accounts reflect less rigorous research. Several make baseless assumptions to support the argument as the writer wants to tell it. Increasingly, descriptions of the pre-war track have relied on fictions invented by later authors and – regrettably – the inadequate or faulty research of professional historians.

This account will correct some common misperceptions about the knowledge in New Guinea [1], of the track from Port Moresby to Kokoda in early 1942, and will describe the origins of the track and its evolution, drawing on reports dating back to the late nineteenth century. For the wartime track, this account will rely on the actions and recollections of the only men who can speak with authority – those who were there at the beginning.

Early ventures into the mountains

The earliest European ventures into what would become British New Guinea (later to be known as the Territory of Papua) involved missionaries who were active along the coast. The London Missionary Society established a mission at Port Moresby Harbour under Reverend Doctor William Lawes in late 1874[2]. Lawes was not an explorer, but he penetrated inland as far as the Bluff and did his utmost to establish amicable relations with the “natives”.

Lawes was followed in 1875 by the geologist Octavius C. Stone who made several trips to the interior penetrating, perhaps, as far as Uberi[3].

In 1876-77, Andrew Goldie, a Scottish naturalist, arrived to collect botanical specimens. Goldie covered considerable ground and, in addition to botanical specimens, found unmistakable traces of gold in what he called the Goldie River – whether named for himself or the gold is not known [4]. Goldie appears to have been the first to penetrate any substantial distance inland from Port Moresby and he added to knowledge of both the mountain tribes and of the vegetation.

The news that traces of gold had been found encouraged further exploration and prospecting. No payable gold was found but definite views were formed as to the inhospitable nature of the mountains of the interior [5] . As a result, by the early 1880s there was good knowledge of the areas closest to Port Moresby that the later Kokoda Trail would traverse.

Sir William MacGregor and the Vanapa Track

Sir William MacGregor[6] was the first Administrator of British New Guinea. MacGregor was a remarkable man more given to exploration than sitting behind a desk. He was intent on establishing law and order but also concerned that the “natives” should be treated fairly. One of his earliest ventures into the interior arose from a visit to the north coast to inspect the developing Yodda Valley gold prospects along the valley of the Yodda (Mambare) River around Mount Stapylton. Along the way, he dealt with a cannibal raiding party on the Mambare and then proceeded to cross the island from north to south – from the mouth of the Mambare to the mouth of the Vanapa River. This was the first such crossing by a European. The events of this expedition are recorded in theAnnual Report on British New Guinea (1 July 1896 to 30 June 1897) [7].

As part of his journey, MacGregor made a deviation to climb the highest peak in the Main Range to more accurately ascertain its height. He approached the high point via Mount Musgrave and Mount Knutsford and named the peak Mount Victoria in honour of Queen Victoria. While making this ascent MacGregor observed:

            “From about 5,500 feet there was a good view to the gap or depression in the main range some ten or twelve miles east of Mount Victoria, but it did not seem to offer an inviting route by which to cross the mountain chain.”[8]

MacGregor’s observation is revealing and confirms that no one had crossed the mountains from Port Moresby via the Gap and thus there was no first-hand knowledge of the topography.

From the top of Mount Victoria, MacGregor also observed that there seemed to be a feasible route from Mount Knutsford to the south coast. This route MacGregor took, following the valley of the Vanapa River.

MacGregor’s party thereby completed the first crossing of the island. The trail that the party blazed would be referred to as the Vanapa Track, leading from the south coast into the Yodda Valley. MacGregor believed that prospectors using the track would have an easy journey of fifteen days, with the benefit of waypoints and shelters that he established for the use of travellers.

Later that year, about 400 hopeful would-be prospectors landed in Port Moresby. According to the Annual Report:

“They travelled thence generally in three or four directions, on the Vanapa track, inland from Port Moresby, by the Rigo Station, and along the Angabunga River [sic – Angabanga]. In most instances they carried their own effects and tools, and in a very few days became quite unfit for the road. Unfortunately, most of them seemed unable to make for themselves suitable camping arrangements, …. [most were] …. ill-provided with food, and in too many cases with no medicines whatever. The result was that after a very short time large numbers became very weak and gave way to fever and dysentery.

Of some 130 men that started inland on the Vanapa track, the majority did not get past the Evelyn Creek, two days inland from Doura. Only two small parties from the South Coast seem to have reached the eastern side of Mount Scratchley and they consisted of or were conducted by, men already accustomed to travel in the country.” [9]

MacGregor was left to lament that almost all the prospectors ignored the track and the shelters provided to assist them. Instead, they took to the bush in the hope of finding new prospects. None succeeded. Several died subsequently of illness and most of the remainder gave up, beaten by the country. But the situation in 1897 was that – for those willing to use it – the Vanapa Track, which had been established by the Administrator of the Territory, offered a way across the mountains to the Yodda goldfields. No other track existed in closer proximity to Port Moresby. MacGregor’s observations on the difficult nature of the terrain in the vicinity of the Gap, where any alternative track would likely run, is notable.

This was the situation as demonstrated by official records. But in 2003 historian Hank Nelson made the astonishing claim that the “Kokoda track” was first used by Australians in the 1890s to reach the Yodda goldfields [10]. Nelson cited no references to support this claim, but in his earlier (1976) book, Black, White and Gold, he stated that, by 1897, of several hundred men who set out for the goldfields from Port Moresby, only two parties made it across the mountains [11]. Nelson’s association of this with a supposed “Kokoda track”  seems to be nothing more than a loose appropriation of MacGregor’s official report which referred to the Vanapa track. The lack of references is an indication of the worth of Nelson’s claims.

The way north from Port Moresby

One of the reasons that there had never been a track across the mountains from Port Moresby was that the local people on the north side of the Owen Stanley Range (the Orokaiva) and those on the south side (the Mountain Koiari) were both hostile to outsiders. The intervening mountains from Alola on the north side to the Koiari village of Kagi in the south were, as pointed out in Bert Kienzle’s biography “…. a no-man’s-land, a place of darkness the Papuans called vabula. This was a buffer zone between two different tribal areas where, by native custom, any stray trespasser was fair game[12].” There was every reason for the Papuans not to cross the mountains [13] .

But European world-views and needs differed from those of the Papuans and, by the late 1890s, miners on the Yodda goldfields were agitating for the government to establish a more convenient ‘road’[14] across the mountains. This would enable an overland mail service to be established – something which would improve service times and decrease reliance on irregular shipping. It would also facilitate the government maintaining a presence in the interior to help in pacifying the local people.

With this end in view, on 25 April 1899, two government expeditions set out from Port Moresby heading towards the Owen Stanley Range (or Main Range). The first, led by Mr D. Ballantyne, set out with the aim of contacting the Hagari tribe in the hills towards the Main Range and convincing them to allow government patrols to traverse their country. In this aim, Ballantyne succeeded [15].

On the same day that Ballantyne set out, a second expedition, led by Mr H.H. Stuart-Russell (the Government Surveyor) left Port Moresby. According to the Government Report for that year:

“The objects of the expedition were to examine the country between the coast and the Gap to the bottom of the Main Range, for the purpose, if possible, of discovering a track that would be suitable for a road over the range. The Gap is the name given to a marked depression in the Main Range, situate [sic] to the south-eastward of Mount Victoria”. [16]

Stuart-Russell travelled up the Brown River and waited until receiving word from Ballantyne that the way was clear to proceed. The expedition continued – with some difficulty  – through the Gap and down to the Yodda, achieving its purpose. Stuart-Russell’s map of the route taken – ‘Survey of Road to Yodda Valley via Brown River Valley’[17] (see Figure 1) – was appended to the ‘Annual Report on British New Guinea from 1st July 1898 to 30th June 1899’. In his report on the journey, Stuart-Russell observed that on the north side of the range they met with hostile tribes who pursued them part of the way back to the Gap.  He concluded:

“The mountainous nature of the country travelled through prevented a definite conclusion being formed as to whether the route followed was the best one for a future road. The formation of the country at the Gap itself hardly seemed suitable for a road, at least for pack animals. So far as could be judged, a good track could be got from the point where the party struck the Yoda [Yodda River] to Tamata Station, on the Mambare. But the country through which such track would pass is inhabited by natives that have not yet been brought under the influence of the Government.” [18]

Stuart-Russell took three months to complete his expedition, on which he extended his orders and pressed on to the Yodda. His party was running short of supplies and hard-pressed by hostile “natives” when another Government Officer, C.A.W. (Charles) Monckton was despatched with relief supplies. Monckton aided Stuart-Russell’s return. But although the Annual Report for the year praised Stuart-Russell’s work, Monckton had a different take on the crossing. According to Monckton, Stuart-Russell had exceeded his orders in pressing on to the Yodda. This was acknowledged in a letter to Stuart-Russell from the then Administrator, Sir George Le Hunte, which began: “You dear disobedient person, I should be very angry with you, but instead, I can only feel pleased[19].” Stuart-Russell had blazed a track across the mountains. His diagrammatic map showed the route he had taken, rivers and streams, and a hachured representation of the terrain giving a rough indication of contours.

Figure 1

‘Survey of Road to Yodda Valley via Brown River Valley”

Fig. 1: H.H. Stuart-Russell map ‘Survey of Road to Yodda Valley via Brown River Valley’ appended to the ‘Annual Report on British New Guinea from 1st July 1898 to 30th June 1899’. Map copy dated August 3, 1942 marked ‘TRACED IN IA SECTION M.I. L.H.Q. FROM A PRINT DATED 16.6.42’ (National Library of Australia (nla.gov.au), catalogue.nla.gov.au/Record/8049238).

The Yodda Valley road

With this groundwork completed, in 1904, the route for a proposed mail service between Port Moresby and the northern goldfields was set down. Kokoda Station – roughly the halfway point – was established by Monckton and set up as the other end of the mail run from Port Moresby. Monckton later referred to the “big Yodda Valley road” traversing his area of responsibility. A fortnightly mail service was implemented. It is mainly for this that the original track to Kokoda is remembered. Members of the Royal Papuan Constabulary (RPC) – usually travelling in pairs – would journey between Port Moresby and Kokoda Station on a regular basis, carrying official mail between the two locations. They would wait at their destination for two or three days to collect return mail which they then carried back [20] .

There were a few subsequent crossings by government officers, but the last record seems to have been that of Resident Magistrate W.R. (Dickie) Humphries who made the crossing in 1923 [21]. In the early years others also used the track. In 1908, Seventh Day Adventist missionaries established a base at Bisiatabu, near Sogeri. According to Nelson, in 1913 Pastor Septimus Carr walked to Kokoda and in 1924 Pastor William Lock and his family, including their young son Lester Lock, walked from Bisiatabu to Efogi, part way along the track [22]. The Lock family stayed at Efogi for the next two years, developing a church. In 1940, after Lester Lock had completed theological training in Australia, he returned to Papua where he was appointed to Bisiatabu. From there, in 1941, he traversed the southern end of the track to Efogi on church business. However, in his book, which covers his time in Papua, Lock does not suggest that he ever went further than Efogi[23].

The Territory’s Administrator, Sir Hubert Murray, apparently walked the track more than once but, with the establishment of an air strip at Kokoda in 1932, Murray remarked that he probably would not be making the trek on foot again [24]. No historian appears to have identified any other records of government officers or other Europeans making the crossing after 1932. The RPC mail service also became more sporadic as the 1930s progressed. There was no regular air service, but air delivery on an opportunity basis reduced the need for the overland service.

By the 1930s, only the Papuan mail carriers of the RPC retained first-hand knowledge of the track.

Military use of the Yodda Valley road

Military use of the Yodda Valley road – or of the section between Kokoda and Port Moresby – began in 1940. On 6 June 1940, Major Leonard Logan, CO of the newly-authorised Papuan Infantry Battalion (PIB), flew to Kokoda to collect the first recruits who had been assembled in the Buna-Kokoda area. All were ex-RPC or volunteers from the RPC. Sinclair states that Logan walked back across the mountains to Port Moresby with his new recruits[25] . but no reference is provided to substantiate the claim. Nor is it referred to in the PIB Unit Diary. Thus, whether Logan walked the track with the recruits remains an open question. Whatever Logan had done in his early days as a Patrol Officer, by 1940 he was apparently not a man accustomed to strenuous physical activity. On reading the statement that Logan had walked back from Kokoda with the recruits, Harold Jesser – who served as a Platoon Commander and later Company Commander in the PIB between 1941 and 1946 – remarked that “Logan never walked anywhere[26].”  The PIB Unit Diary records the new recruits arriving in Port Moresby on 1 July 1940, but there is no indication of the date that they set out.

In May 1941 another seventy recruits were obtained from the same area. This time it was the then OC A Company, Captain W.T. (Bill) Watson[27] who flew to Kokoda with a medical officer to supervise the recruitment. According to the PIB Unit Diary, the new recruits walked back across the mountains to Port Moresby in just a few days. Watson and the doctor flew back.

Some recent writers have echoed Nelson’s claims about the track being ‘well known’ in the years prior to WWII, but none – including Nelson – appear to have made the connection that Europeans only crossed it with a substantial line of carriers and RPC escorts. They relied on Papuans to show them the way. There were some workers on the rubber plantations around Sogeri who made the crossing from the north coast (as evidenced by the rubber tree seedlings that they took back with them) but it was mostly the mail-carriers of the RPC who retained knowledge of the actual route.

As a consequence of recruiting from the Kokoda-Buna area, by the end of 1941 the PIB had many men – mostly ex-RPC – who had crossed the track from Kokoda to enlist. However, at a time when a clear distinction was drawn between ‘Administration business’ and ‘native business’, Papuan knowledge of the crossing counted for little. The accepted Administration position was that the track could not be traversed without substantial logistic support[28]. It could be of no practical military use. The track lay firmly in the realm of ‘native business.’

The Pacific War comes closer

Sometime in the latter part of 1941, the Army in Port Moresby was working with a small-scale outline map of New Guinea[29]. Detail was limited to the coastline, the major rivers and a few administrative centres. The section between Port Moresby and the north coast of Papua showed two short straight lines – representing vehicular roads – extending inland from Port Moresby and Buna. In reality, the roads were not straight but were placed on the map to merely indicate their presence. The ends of the roads were joined by another straight line – this time a series of dashes – indicating a hypothetical track across the mountains. The line did not pass through or near Kokoda.

Figure 2

“Appreciation of the Situation” (10 February 1941)

Figure 2: Extract from a map marked ‘SECRET’, part of the “Appreciation of the Situation” by Commandant 8MD [8th Military District] at Port Moresby, 10 February 1941 (AWM 60/95)

That map appears to have been the limits of Army knowledge of the Kokoda Trail in late 1941. There were few military personnel in Port Moresby at the time that the map was drawn up and, as an experienced senior Administration officer and Commanding Officer of one of the two infantry battalions in Port Moresby, it could be assumed that Major Logan, CO of the PIB, had some input. As the line on the map suggests only a theoretical track, it must be assumed that Logan did not contribute any more specific information. This would explain why Brigadier (later Major-General) Basil Morris, commandant of the 8th Military District, did not examine the track or place it high on his list of defence priorities. Morris had few resources at his disposal and had to concentrate on defence preparations around Port Moresby. He relied on the Administration’s advice the track was impractical as a route for military purposes.

This remained the position until early 1942 when Lieutenant Harold Jesser of the PIB was tasked to map the tracks in the rubber plantations around Sogeri, in the hills behind Port Moresby. Knowledge of the tracks was required as part of contingency planning for defence if the Japanese attempted to take Port Moresby from the sea. The defenders in Port Moresby were to retreat to the mountains and from there wage a harassing campaign against the invaders until help arrived. Written notes and taped conversations with Harold Jesser from 1996 describe the events that followed the mapping patrol and how the Army became aware of the possibilities of the track to Kokoda.

The first War-time crossing

Jesser had a small patrol consisting of himself, an Artillery surveyor and six PIB soldiers to complete the mapping work. The task, however, was not as Jesser expected. When they got to Sogeri, Jesser said:

            “We went round and the first place we went to was old Sefton at Koitaki, and he said, ‘You’re wasting your time. Every plantation around here has got maps of the area. They’ve all got maps and they all adjoin.’

So what we did was went round and collected the maps. That only took a couple of days.”

Jesser had not excluded his men from knowledge of why the work was necessary. The small patrol – two Australians and six Papuans – had discussed their task and the latest developments in Rabaul. To Jesser, his men were not just ‘the natives’. They had a fair understanding of what was happening in their part of the world. They had ideas about how a threat to Port Moresby could develop – and their ideas were worth listening to. Jesser continued:

“We were sitting down after collecting the maps and I said, ‘What are we going to do now?’

One of the natives said, ‘Why don’t we go to Kokoda?’”

The proposal probably came from PN15 Corporal Kamani[30], who was the NCO on the patrol. Kamani’s rank of Corporal suggests that he had held rank in the RPC before his enlistment and his regimental number indicates that he was one of the first enlistees from Northern Papua – one who had walked to Port Moresby from Kokoda to enlist. Jesser held Kamani in high regard and would have listened to his opinions.

Jesser had been told to be thorough in his mapping task. He had heard that a crossing to Kokoda was next to impossible. Yet his soldiers were telling him that it could be done and it would not take many days.

Jesser was also naturally cautious so, he said, he asked the ‘fellow in charge of the mission’ at Bisiatabu what he knew about the track. The missionary, who told Jesser he had been born there, said he had never been over to Kokoda and knew nothing about it. It cannot be said with certainty that the missionary was Lester Lock but, as noted earlier, in his account covering his time in Papua, Lock did not claim to have been further north than Efogi.

Jesser decided to go ahead on the advice of his men. He had been a range finder in the Artillery in his previous CMF service so he had some skills to assist his surveyor in the extended mapping task. The work was completed quickly because they travelled light, as the RPC mail carriers had. Jesser explained: “We took – from Koitaki – six days over and five days back, because we left tucker as we went. We came back with nothing, just what we were going to camp on. Just a blanket and ground sheet. That was all we had to carry.”

On the way back, on 5 February 1942, the patrol was camped high on the main range. They were woken in the early hours of the morning by the sound of Japanese flying boats on their way to bomb Port Moresby. Jesser fixed the date as that of the second raid. This means that the patrol probably got back to Port Moresby around 10 February.

Jesser’s deviation to Kokoda had extended his patrol beyond its allotted time. But it was worth it. He recalled his return: “And when we got back there was hell to pay. ‘Where’ve you been?’”

Jesser had exceeded his orders. It might have seemed like a good idea at the time but the news that he had been over to Kokoda and back was greeted with incredulity.   He summed it succinctly: “The track wasn’t there and they didn’t know [it could be crossed]. There’d been nobody there for years.”

There had been no visible track because, in the high rainfall areas of Papua, any trace left by the RPC mail carriers was quickly erased by the jungle. Europeans in Papua might have retained the idea of a track, but only the Papuans knew the way – and Europeans never made the crossing without Papuan assistance. Jesser’s soldiers showed Europeans that the crossing could be completed without all the trappings that would have accompanied an Administration patrol. He brought back a rough map of the track to Kokoda, descriptions of the terrain and the walking times between villages, as well as the maps of the Sogeri area that had been the main purpose of his patrol.

Jesser continued:

            “New Guinea Force Headquarters should have known that these surveyed maps [of the Sogeri area] were in existence. The bitter feelings between the Administration and top Army officials could possibly have been the cause of this information not being made available. They wouldn’t tell the Army anything.

            Anyhow, I had to go down and report to General Morris. He was all right and he said, ‘Oh, you should have let somebody know.’ That sort of thing. He didn’t reprimand me or anything. And he was quite interested in the track, wanted me to do a report on it and all the rest of it. And he said, ‘All right, you can go back to your unit now.’ He’d finished with me, and as I got to the door he said, ‘Oh, Jesser, if you had to go back to Kokoda, would you go?’ I said, ‘Yes, certainly.’ He said, ‘Good, I’ll let you know.’”

At that time, Morris had his hands full with an uncooperative Administration and was about to bring all of New Guinea under military control. But he still recognised the military implications of Jesser’s report on the Kokoda track.

The track comes into use

It was a few days after this that Morris contacted Jesser. Jesser recalled: “He didn’t ring Logan [CO PIB]. He rang me up and he said, ‘I want you to get a platoon together and take another officer with you, and I want you to go to Kokoda and patrol the north coast.’”

Jesser’s official patrol across the Kokoda track set out on 19 February 1942 – barely a week after he had returned from his first crossing. The patrol mission was stated succinctly:   to watch for any signs of an anticipated approach by the Japanese and to screen any possible lines of overland approach to Port Moresby. Morris did not have the forces to defend the north coast but the new information led him to conclude that he could not ignore the possibility of a threat developing from that direction. Jesser’s report on the track also convinced him that supplying an Army across the mountains would be extremely difficult. On this reasoning, Morris decided that his best option was to plan for a defence at the Sogeri end of the track, where the defenders would have the advantage of shorter supply lines and the attackers would be stretched. Lieutenant Tony Leutchford, Aide to Major-General Morris, noted in April-May 1942 that “the General had often said that if such an attack did eventuate, he would never try to fight the Jap over the mountains, but would be quite happy to halt him between Ioribaiwa and Uberi. The Brigade Commander, 30th Brigade, Brigadier Porter was instructed to carry out recces in this area[31].”

Jesser’s crossing to Kokoda also seems to have prompted new interest in the track in Northern Papua. With the cessation of civil administration across New Guinea on 14 February 1942, the remaining Europeans in New Guinea were called up for military service. Knowing that Jesser and his men had just made their crossing, Clendyn (Clen) Searle, a rubber planter at Awala, decided to walk to Port Moresby to enlist [32]. It was his first experience of the track. Searle set out some time after 14 February and was enlisted in Port Moresby on 23 February. He was commissioned as Lieutenant and returned to Awala soon after. Rubber was an important War material and Searle was sent back to continue production as long as possible. According to Grahamslaw, on 11 March 1942, Searle was at Buna having just walked back from Port Moresby after completing his enlistment[33].

By this time the track had seen five crossings involving Europeans:  Jesser over and back with a small patrol, Jesser back again with a full platoon of 30 men, and Searle trekking over from the north and back, probably with a couple of porters.

The next person to cross the track was Herbert (Bert) Kienzle, a planter and manager of a gold mine on the Yodda. Kienzle got his call-up on 31 March 1942 and, on reporting to Kokoda Station, was instructed to take a number of deserters (indentured labourers) back to Port Moresby, walking them across the track from Kokoda.

According to Kienzle’s biographer, “This entailed Bert’s first land crossing over the Owen Stanley and it took him and his troop of 64 deserters about seven days to reach Koitaki.”

It had only been a few weeks since Jesser’s and Searle’s crossings but, in the high rainfall jungles of Papua any track forced by a small party was quickly overgrown and hidden from view. Kienzle’s biographer continues:

“As with the Papuan Infantry group before him, Bert and his charges would have to try to select, from a series of tracks from village to village, the best route over the ranges. Most of the track from Kokoda through Deniki, Isurava and on to Alola was not too bad…. From Alola to the Koiari village of Kagi, however, was a no-man’s-land …. Most of the track in this forbidden place was just a dark tangled shadow hidden beneath the thickly matted foliage of intertwined creeping ground vines and stinging nettles …. From Alola to Eora Creek was one of the most dangerous portions of the journey, an almost vertical climb where one missed step could mean a long, painful fall to the raging torrent below. Once the track joined the fast-rising creek bed, it became a soul-destroying series of climbs and descents – up, down, up, up, down – along the dark, dank creek bed over slippery bulbous boulders and fungi-encrusted fallen trees, through the constantly dripping foliage where the springs ran along the track – often the springs were the track… Bert was very fit … but… this trek tested him to his very limits… Each day in this no man’s land they had to clear the track … From Kagi on, the tracks were much more defined… Little did [Kienzle] know at the time how vital this trail he had just navigated would become over the ensuing months …”. [34]

From these observations, it is clear that there was no semblance of a track in the vital section across the mountains. Jesser simply said that “the track wasn’t there”. Kienzle provides more description, but his words support Jesser’s observations. Jesser’s men had to “break bush” across the mountains. Kienzle said that each day they had to “clear the track.”

Nevertheless, each time that another party – and a larger party – made the crossing, the traces of their passing would persist a little longer. It was probably not much more than a month after Kienzle crossed with his 64 deserters and police escort that Searle departed across the track again.

This time Searle was taking rubber back to Port Moresby. One hundred bales of rubber had been assembled at Kokoda. Each 100-pound (45 kilogram) bale required two porters to carry it – so, two hundred porters plus many more to carry the rations and other essentials for the large party. There was also a police escort. The entire party could have totaled three hundred men. Searle recalled the crossing taking six or seven days [35]; If after Kienzle’s crossing there had been some semblance of a path to follow, by the time Searle’s carrier line reached Port Moresby, the Kokoda track was a scar thoroughly beaten into the earth. Searle returned across the track in early June.

It was not long after this that the remainder of the PIB began to cross from Port Moresby to Kokoda:  30 men left on 7 June 1942, another 105 on 14 June, and the final party of about 70 set out on 24 June. Within days they were being followed by the first platoons of B Company, 39th Battalion.

There was now an identifiable track but the maps available to the first Australian units were limited in their detail and usefulness.

Military maps of the track

It may have been after all New Guinea was brought under Army control that the military became aware of Stuart-Russell’s ‘Survey of Road to Yodda Valley via Brown River Valley’ (see Figure 1). The map appears to have been used by the Army early in the campaign because a copy dated 3 August 1942 carries the note “COPIED BY IA SECTION M.I. L.H.Q. [Military Intelligence Land Head Quarters] FROM A PRINT DATED 16.6.1942”. Stuart-Russell’s map shows the track to Kokoda in general form, but once the Papuans began carrying mail across the mountains they would have made their own variations to suit themselves. The RPC route became the basis for the wartime track. No further survey had been carried out and LHQ continued to work with the old map which, as Figure 1 shows, was still being copied by Military Intelligence as late as August 1942.

Different writers have identified the maps and other information provided at different stages as battle around the track to Kokoda unfolded. The 39th Battalion followed the PIB across the track. Williams identifies the first company of the 39th as having only a list of the villages in the order that they should be encountered and “crude maps of 1:300,000 scale.”[36]vvv. This may be an approximation to the one inch to four miles scale of the Stuart-Russell map because one inch to four miles is 1:253,440 scale. But the Stuart-Russell map in the National Archives also carries the notation (presumably added by Military Intelligence) “Scale approximately 1:284,000.” Whatever the true scale, the map was of limited military value. According to Ham, when the 7th Division began crossing a couple of months later, reference was made to ‘pitiful quarter-inch-to-the-mile sheets’[37] which is the scale noted on the Stuart-Russell map. On the other hand, Jesser’s original record of the track in terms of walking times between villages and other relevant information appears to have been refined by the time the 39th Battalion and the 7th Division started out. According to Sublet, Brigadier Potts was provided with a “diagrammatic (sectional) representation of the track showing elevations, distances, walking times etc., which were useful’[38]. Information for refinements could have come from two 39th Battalion officers who accompanied B Coy PIB and who were charged with the task of mapping.

The main source of claims that the track was well-known in New Guinea is Nelson[39] . But the last Administration patrol across to Kokoda identified by Nelson was in 1923. Apart from that and the apparent crossing by the Territory Administrator in 1932 (identified by Hawthorne[40]), there appear to have been no other crossings by Europeans in the two decades prior to the war. That hardly supports any contention that the track was ‘well-known’. The only other crossings were those by the Papuans of the RPC – but they received scant acknowledgement from the Administration .

The origins of the War-time Kokoda Trail

The origins of the war-time Kokoda Trail can be said to be in the knowledge of former members of the Royal Papuan Constabulary who guided Lieutenant Harold Jesser on his first unofficial crossing to Kokoda. If one man is to be given credit for putting the track on the war-time map, it is probably PN15 Corporal Kamani[41] who was NCO on that first war-time crossing – a crossing that enabled Jesser and his surveyor to compile the first militarily useful information on walking times across the terrain that Australians and Papuans would soon be fighting over.

With Jesser’s report, New Guinea Force was able to incorporate the track into its defence planning – and it did so immediately, within the limits of its resources. If higher military establishments declined to take note of the advice coming from New Guinea, if they fell back on their fiction of the easily defended ‘gap’ because it suited them not to reinforce Port Moresby, that was not the fault of New Guinea Force[42]. Critics of New Guinea Force and its approach to the Kokoda Trail[43] need to recognise that the Army – just like the Government – is not a homogeneous structure in which all parties take note of available information and act appropriately.

August 2023


Notes

[1]       The country which is today called Papua New Guinea comprised the Territory of Papua and the Territory of New Guinea in the years prior to World War II. However, under military rule, from early 1942 it was referred to simply as New Guinea. This book will follow the war-time convention of referring to the theatre of war as New Guinea, except where it is necessary to make a distinction between the Territories of Papua and New Guinea. (Hank Nelson, ‘Report on historical sources on Australia and Japan at war in Papua and New Guinea, 1942-45’, ajrp.awm.gov.au/ajrp/ajrp2.nsf/437f72f8ac2c07238525661a00063aa6/ 2f3b86921669c57e852565b000499e78? Accessed 25 February 2019.)

[2]       Hawthorne, Stuart, The Kokoda Trail: A History, Central Queensland University Press: Rockhampton (2003), pp.1-17. The Lawes were preceded by four Polynesian missionaries who had established themselves at the nearby village of Hanuabada.

[3]       Ibid., p. 4.

[4]       Town and Country Journal, 1 February 1879.

[5]      The Sydney Mail, ‘Gold Prospecting in New Guinea’, 10 August 1878. The Mercury Supplement (Hobart),‘Recent Exploration and Discoveries in British New  Guinea’,14 January 1892.

[6]       See William MacGregor – Wikipedia for a concise biography of the first Administrator of British New Guinea (which later became Papua).

[7]       Annual Report on British New Guinea, 1 July 1896 to 30 June 1897, (with Appendices), 1898.

[8]     Ibid., p. xii.

[9]       Ibid., p. xviii.

[10]     Nelson, Hank. ‘Kokoda: The Track from History to Politics’, Journal of Pacific History, 38 (1), (2003), pp. 109-127.

[11]     Nelson, Hank, Black White and Gold, Australian National University Press: Canberra (1976), pp. 115-6.

[12]     Kienzle, Robyn, The Architect of Kokoda, Hachette: Sydney (2011), p. 118.

[13]     Nevertheless, it seems that occasional crossings had been made in the past, possibly on head-hunting raids. The crossing was alleged to have taken ‘five sleeps’ – roughly the same time that it would take Lieutenant Harold Jesser’s party to cross in January-February 1942.

[14]     A ‘road’ in this era was simply a conveniently cleared walking track. It was not until the advent of motor vehicles in later years that it assumed the specific meaning of a vehicular road.

[15]     ‘Annual Report on British New Guinea from 1st July 1898 to 30th June 1899; with Appendices’, Brisbane: Queensland Government (1900), pp. xv-xvi. (The last two pages of the report, one of which would be the relevant map, are missing from the Report held on the National Archives. A copy of the map, catalogued  as “Survey of road to Yodda Valley via Brown River Valley / M.I. L.H.Q. August 3 1942”, was located at the National Library of Australia; catalogue.nla.gov.au/Record/8049238 accessed 15 August 2021.

[16]     ‘Annual Report on British New Guinea’, p. xvi.

[17]     ‘Survey of road to Yodda Valley via Brown River Valley ’ibid.

[18]     ‘Annual Report on British New Guinea’, p. xvi.

[19]     Monckton, C.A.W, Experiences of a New Guinea Resident Magistrate, Newnes: London (c. 1922), p. 289.

[20]     Hawthorne, op. cit., pp. 86-106.

[21]     Hawthorne, op. cit., p. 137.

[22]     Nelson, Hank, ‘History of the Kokoda Trail’, research paper accessed at newsletter.kokodatreks.com/documents/KokodaTrackorTrail.doc on 19 June 2019.

[23]     For an account of Lock’s life in Papua see, Lock, Lester N., Locks that opened doors, Signs:Warburton, Victoria, 2000.

[24]     Ibid., p. 140. 

[25]     Sinclair, J., To Find a Path: The Life and Times of the Royal Pacific Islands Regiment. Boolarong Publications: Bowen Hills, Brisbane (1991), p. 132.

[26]     Major Harold Jesser, MC, taped interviews and notes made by P. Jesser, 1997.

[27]     Major Bill Watson, DSO, MC and Bar, DCM, served as CO of the PIB from mid-January 1942 until his discharge in 1944.

[28]     Harold Jesser (taped interviews and notes) provides an example of this. When the PIB and the 39th Battalion were facing the Japanese at Deniki, the then Captain Sidney Elliot-Smith of ANGAU arrived from Port Moresby with a line of twenty-six porters – two of them carrying his bathtub – on an inspection of the carrier lines. That was an indication of the logistic support considered necessary for one government officer to make the crossing. On 9 August 1942, after seeing a day and a night of fighting, Elliot-Smith decided he would be needed back in Port Moresby. Major Bill Watson allowed him to take just two porters for his return journey, pointing out the desperate need for carriers at Deniki. What became of the bathtub is not known.

[29]      The map was marked “SECRET”. It revealed the military strength in Port Moresby at that time as consisting of HQ 8MD, Paga Battery, the 49th Battalion (less one company and one machine gun platoon), the 1st PIB (two companies), ancillary troops and the Royal Papuan Constabulary. (AWM60 95). 

[30]     Kamani was from Torevaite Village in the former Eastern Division of Papua. His regimental number, PN15 (PN: Papuan Native) indicates that he was the fifteenth individual to be enlisted in the first cohort from Buna. Kamani died of illness in the Port Moresby area on 4 January 1945. At the time of his death, Kamani held the rank of Sergeant. On some documents his name was recorded as ‘Kimani’.

[31]     Lieutenant (later Captain) A.B (Tony) Leutchford. Personal Notes, April-November 1942. AWM PR00575. Tony Leutchford was killed in action at Scarlet Beach, Finschhafen on 22 September 1943.

[32]     Searle, Jesse Lillian (Pat), Memini- I remember- recollections of my life with Clendyn Edwy Searle in Australia and Papua New Guinea. MS 9425, National Library of Australia:Canberra (1995), pp. 182-187.

[33]     Grahamslaw, T., Recollections of ANGAU, Personal account, in the possession of the author.

[34]     Kienzle, ibid.

[35]     Searle, op. cit., p. 186. Searle returned to Awala with the police escort. His porters would have been enlisted in ANGAU.

[36]     Williams, Peter, The Kokoda Campaign 1942: Myth and Reality, Cambridge: Melbourne (2012), p. 31.

[37]     Ham, Paul, Kokoda, HarperCollins Publishers:Sydney (2004), p. 130. Ham references AHQ Melbourne 23/12/41 for this quote.

[38]     Sublet, Frank, Kokoda to the Sea: A history of the 1942 campaign in Papua, Slouch Hat Publications: McCrae, Victoria, p. 35.

[39]     Nelson, Hank, “Kokoda: The Track from History to Politics”, The Journal of Pacific History, Vol. 38, No. 1 (Jun., 2003), pp. 109-127.

[40]     Hawthorne, op. cit., p. 140.

[41]     Corporal (later Sergeant) Kamani would also have the distinction of being the first Papuan soldier to open hostilities with the Japanese, when he and Jesser fired on a Japanese seaplane at Buna on 10 March 1942.

[42]     Leuthchford, AWM PR00575. In June 1942, Leutchford noted: ‘LHQ, without a clear picture of the part the Owen Stanley Range played in the defence of Moresby, ordered General Morris to march a battalion across this mountain barrier. Not one of the Chiefs of Staff from LHQ know a think [sic] about the barrier and not one of them tried to learn anything by visiting the place. Why is it that LHQ will not trust the commander on the spot, when they know nothing about an area?’

[43]     From time to time, debate occurs over whether the wartime track between Port Moresby and Kokoda should be referred to properly as the Kokoda track or the Kokoda Trail. Harold Jesser only ever referred to it as the Kokoda Trail or, less formally, as ‘the track’.