Evening star., 1942-12-20
Troops in New Guinea
Beating laps in Some
OF Densest Jung|es
New Mexico Indidh Leeds
Writer Through Foes
Communication Lines
By GEORGE WELLER,
Foreign Correspondent of The Star and
Chicago Daily News

By GEORGE WELLER,
Foreign Correspondent Of The Star and
Chicago Daily News.
WITH AMERICAN TROOPS
SOMEWHERE IN NEW GUINEA.
Dec. 19.-The trail from the beach,
head of Cadavers at Coma, recently
taken by the Australian troops, back
to the nearest American lines is
perhaps one of the worst level
stretches in Papua.
1t is technically a trail because
the Japanese withdrawing from
Wairopi, Kokoda and other points
along the retreat from the Owen
Stanley range used this ribbon of
calf-deep mud flanked by the saber-
tooth jungle for their exit to their
final fate at Coma.
But this trail is one which only
some one like Indian Bill Pesh-
lackai could negotiate without
qualms. Indian Bill, tribesman
from Albuquerque, N. Mex, got his
name on Sanananda road when sent
out to join the American unit on
the left side of the road deep within
the japanese lines. He misunder-
stood the order and found that he
had penetrated Jap machine gun
nests and sniper traps only to join
the wrong unit
Correspondent Unarmed.
Without any remark other than
ugh" Indian Bill went across to
the other American unit - not
through the safety of his own lines,
but crossing along the ambush
dotted highway and calmly travers-
ing the Japs' own lines of communi-
cations.
But even Indian Bill carried his
tommy gun slung over an arm.
Correspondents are not allowed to
carry arms. That is why for this
admittedly timid witness the trail
back from Coma over the line of
the Japs vanishing Papuan empire
remains high in the scare curve
The Coma trail takes you from a
point north of the Japanese lines
to a point south of the American
hnes-your line Of movement being
pal ollCl W1Gll Vic SSCIlC Va plCS-
ent struggle for the Sanananda
road. Except for patches of green
kunai grass, you are constantly in
the darkest jungle. The track is
merely ribbon of oozing mud vary
ing from ankle to knee depth. At
the first step your heavy Army boots,
surmounted by leggings, come suck
~ forth urith tocfino OlY1n
Thereafter your feet are Brobding-
nagian in size and terrific in weight.
Your body literally streams sweat.
Sweat seeps stingingly into your
eyes. And at every step it gets more
difficult to lift your boots.
Jap Bodies Left Behind.
When you look aside at the jungle
there are sawtooth ferns guarding
it everywhere. If you penetrate
them the forest itself is huge
quagmire. Mosquitoes discover you
and come buZzing forth.
At each little bridge which breaks
the jungle shadows with overhead
light there is once again the stencil
of decaying Jap bodies. Every bridge
had it's defender and attacker and
not all the bodies could be found
afterward. The atmosphere is pol
luted with wars unforgettable smell
p Here in the forest are tiny shelters
that the Japs built themselves. Here
are the slit trenches for ambush.
And suddenly, huge in the forest,
you come upon truck abandoned in
this sea and mud when Jap arms
could push it no further.
Beyond are great logs felled across
the river of mud to deny the Aus
tralians similar access. A Jap bicycle
without tires, and it's wheels smash
ed, has been pushed against one log.
You put one foot on the smutty sad
die to mount the log as have hum
dreds of feet before you, both Aus
tralian and japanese. But yours is
the first American foot there.
There is the constant noise of
mortar fire and tommy guns in the
forest. Sometimes it seems that
you're walking straight into it.
Sometimes the giant noise seems to
turn away.
Your entire body is streaming wet,
your heart pounding with the effort
of lifting your feet. 1t gets dark
and the last of the litter bearing
blacks has passed. Your own boy,
frightened by the nearby firing, is
taking an invisible lane through the
muddy pools inside the forest, ap-
parently unwilling to be with you
should anything happen.
tCopyright. 1912, by