- Author
- A.N. Other
- Subjects
- Biographies and personal histories, Naval Intelligence, History - WW2
- Tags
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- RAN Ships
- None noted.
- Publication
- December 2023 edition of the Naval Historical Review (all rights reserved)
By Tim Proust
This story was provided by Tim Proust of the Orbost & District Historical Society from an original unpublished family history prepared by his grandfather Walter Hugh Brooksbank. Walter Brooksbank joined the AIF as a private during WWI and was later commissioned and awarded the Military Medal. Between wars he was a civilian member of the fledgling Department of Naval Intelligence and involved in the establishment of the Coastwatching organisation.
Walter Brooksbank
Walter Brooksbank (1895–1981) was born in Lyndoch, South Australia, one of three sons of an Anglican minister who managed the parish there, later moving to Williamstown. He attended Melbourne Grammar School, then one year of law at the University of Melbourne, which was interrupted by enlistment for WWI where he served in Egypt, Gallipoli and France. He was awarded the Military Medal for conspicuous gallantry at the Battle of Ypres in September 1917 and later obtained a commission.
After the War, he joined the Department of Navy about 1920 where he began in the accounts section but moved into intelligence in a clerical role and was soon involved in intelligence tasks. He became the civil assistant to the Director of Naval Intelligence, Commander Rupert Long (a well-known and iconic figure within Australian Naval Intelligence). During the 20s and 30s he worked on a number of projects including spending extensive periods on RAN ships reviewing security in PNG and South West Pacific areas. It appeared obvious even then that there was a threat of Japanese influence in the area, and of course more broadly in Asia, and Walter became involved in organising a ‘Coast Watching’ service using Australian plantation owners, settlers and patrol officers. He worked closely with people like Commander Eric Feldt and many others. With war in the Pacific, the role of Coast-watchers was absolutely critical in supplying information to the allies.
Walter was commissioned as a naval officer (Lieutenant Commander RANVR), which meant he had more authority on operational duties in the SW Pacific including the US landings at Guadalcanal. Being a commissioned officer provided him with more gravitas when dealing with the US Navy/ Marines etc. He also worked for a time at Royal Navy HQ in Whitehall naval intelligence where his immediate mentor was Ian Fleming, the creator of James Bond. Walter retired from Naval Intelligence in 1957. He was part of the committee involved in the funding and construction of the Coastwatchers Memorial Lighthouse in Madang, PNG and attended its opening in 1959.
Spy Hunt
There had been several instances when merchant vessels, including iron ore carriers, had been either been sunk or damaged as a result of Japanese submarine attacks in the Gabo Island area. I knew that Security and Military Intelligence also had been investigating a report that footprints had been seen leading from the foreshore to the water’s edge on the lonely stretch of beach extending from Marlo to Cape Everard. There existed a belief that possibly an enemy agent had stationed himself in the locality to provide Japanese submarines with information concerning the movements of our shipping. In support of this belief, a light had been seen on a ridge of the coastal range, and this was interpreted as a signal to the submarine. I was called in to the DNI [Department of Naval Intelligence] to investigate. ‘In my opinion, the report is a lot of poppy-cock’ I commented. ‘As we all know, Gabo Island is a focal point for shipping on the route from Melbourne to Sydney. All a submarine needs to do is to lie off Gabo and bide her time until a target is presented. She doesn’t need to be primed with reports of shipping movements.’ ‘Exactly’ came Commander Long’s reply, ‘Still it’s very unlikely, I’ll admit, but there is a possibility that, separately from shipping intelligence, the Japs maybe using this as channel for the receipt of other secret information’.
He was looking at me now in a tentative fashion. ‘Have you ever done any fishing?’ he asked suddenly.
His question had caught me by surprise.
‘Well, at the age of seven, when I was living with my parents at Henley Beach South Australia, I used to fish off the jetty for crabs with a muslin bag suspended from a small iron hoop with a lump of raw steak for my bait but can’t say that I’ve done much in the fishing line since.’
‘Still, that should fit the bill’ he grinned. And then ‘Had any experience with revolvers?’
‘Well, when I was in the army, I learnt how to handle a Webley Scott’.
‘Did you indeed? That’s fine!’
I had now, of course got the gist of what was in Commander Long’s mind. He wanted me to pay a visit to the area posing as an ordinary fisherman and to go armed. Already I was becoming excited at the prospect.
‘No need to tell me the idea appeals to you’.
‘Yes, but what about all the gear I’ll need – and the revolver?’
‘Oh, I’ll soon see that’s fixed up – don’t you worry!’
Thrusting his hands into the trouser pockets of his uniform Commander Long now began to commune with himself.
‘You know, I think this is a two-man job really’ he pronounced finally. ‘Perhaps you had better take Kevin Reilly along with you – that is if he is willing, of course.’
‘I don’t think there will be any trouble about that’ I assured him.
In search of the enemy
Two mornings later, my fellow spy catcher Kevin Reilly and I left Melbourne by rail for the town of Orbost. It had been arranged that we would be accommodated at the Marlo Hotel. Owing to it being a Saturday, it would be necessary for us to stay at the hotel for the week-end. Also, without betraying any interest in the subject, we might be able to pick up some local gossip concerning the supposed presence of an enemy agent or agents in the district. While in the holiday season Marlo is quite a popular fishing centre, we found on our arrival at the hotel that the only guests were a honeymoon couple.
On Monday morning, shortly after the local general store opened, we made some purchases including a tent-fly. Then, heavily laden with our packs crammed to the limit and carrying our fishing rods, we set off along the coast. Before long, we came across the carcasses of quite a number of cows which had been drowned in the flood-waters and then swept out to sea. Truly a sad sight, but not so our next discovery; lying on the water’s edge was the body of a fair-sized grey nurse shark. No precise information has been available to use as to where those reported footprints on the beach had been sighted, so as we trudged along, we kept our eyes skinned, without result. We welcomed the onset of dusk after a hot and tiring day. ‘Look, there’s an ideal place. From those sandhills we’ll be able to look out to the coastal range for any lights’.
Darkness came, but not pitch-dark. Before us was a small half-moon bay and the water, protected by the intervening sandhills, remained calm. This would be an ideal place for a rubber boat from a submarine to make a landing I thought. ‘Look.’ Suddenly Kevin gripped my arm. ‘On the top of that ridge directly ahead – a light.’ But now something else had excited my attention. A little more than 100 yards away, right at the water’s edge where the sandhills started to project from the coastline, there was now a further light. My pulse quickened. I drew Kevin’s attention to it. ‘My God yes, you’re right. This is beginning to look like it’ I exclaimed. ‘That might well be Enemy Agent No. 21. We’d better get our revolvers ready.’ We waited in dead silence, listening for the sound of a rubber boat’s paddle, but heard none. Our hearts beating, we cautiously moved towards the light. After we had gone about 40 yards, I called a temporary halt, and both of us now crouched down. ‘Look, look!’ From the tenseness of his whisper, something had excited my fellow spy catcher’s attention. ‘That light on the ridge has now shifted above it! It seems to be suspended in mid-air! Do you think, do you think that …?’ I raised my eyes in that direction. ‘No doubt about it!’ I exclaimed. ‘That light we’ve been seeing is no more than a star!’ My mind working swiftly, I transferred my gaze back to the light down there below. ‘Look Kevin, that light has now shifted a little from the water’s edge, and if I’m not mistaken, it is only the reflection of that self-same star!’ In the morning, we pondered over the matter.
We could have returned to Marlo, but our instructions were to proceed along the coast to Cape Everard where there was an unattended automatic lighthouse and also a post manned by a small detachment of the Volunteer Defence Corps. In spite of our sleepless night, we quickened our pace, and it was very late in the afternoon before we drew near Cape Everard.
A sentry armed with a rifle, with bayonet fixed and slung from his shoulder, came along the beach to meet us. ‘The VDC should be able to give us transport back to Marlo’ I remarked to Kevin. But on our drawing closer, the sentry had brought his rifle and bayonet to the alert, and his manner was unmistakably hostile. He was an elderly man. To reassure him, I moved forward to introduce ourselves. ‘We’re from Navy Office, Melbourne.’ After giving our names, I started to explain. But I got no further for the man had now thrust his bayonet uncomfortably close to my stomach! ‘Think you’ll get away with that cock-and-bull story, do you?’ He scowled and continued to scrutinise us closely. A shadow of a doubt now passed over his features. ‘From Navy Office you say? Got any papers to prove it?’ ‘Well, no,’ I answered. We had not been carrying identification papers as a matter of prudence in the event of capture, however unlikely, by enemy agents. But before I had been given a chance to explain, he was at me again. ‘No, I thought not!’ he grunted. ‘I’ve got the strength of youse two, believe me! A couple of spies disguising yourselves as fishermen, that’s what you bastards are!’ Then, tilting his rifle and bayonet momentarily towards the sea. ‘Givin’ secret information to Jap submarines out there! Don’t tell me, I knows all about it!’ ‘Well, what do you know about that’ I said turning to Kevin. ‘He takes us for a couple of spies. It’s altogether too laughable!’ His attitude was now even more menacing. ‘Now don’t you try to sidetrack me. Just you move on, youse two, and I’ll follow right behind you. And no funny business, or else!’
The way he was waggling his rifle and bayonet first to one of us and then to the other was sufficient warning. So, with the sentry close behind us, we went to the VDC post. A corporal came forward and soon satisfied himself as to our bona-fides. Along with four other members of the Corps, we spent the night in one of the tents of the VDC, another sleepless night as we were nearly devoured by mosquitoes. During the course of our return railway journey, my fellow spy-hunter remarked to me, ‘Those blasted mosquitoes put the tin-hat on it all. I don’t know what you think about it, but no more spy-hunting for me!’
Postscript: I made enquiries with the Orbost & District Historical Society and The Mallacoota Historical Society, both of which have evidence of Japanese landings in that area, most likely submarine crew looking for fresh water. Imprints of the Japanese tabi (split toe) shoes were found in the sand near Mallacoota.