Sixteen years ago, I started trekking Kokoda as an historical advisor to Australians come to honour soldiers in the war.
I completed 13 treks most of which were very memorable. I learned so much about the war by treading the same paths. I gave trekkers a broad view and a ridge line by ridge line explanation.
I was a history teacher in high schools and the Australian Army. I took the trekkers through World War 1, the great depression and the Japanese plan to set up a late Nippon empire to become self sufficient in oil, coal and iron.
The war ended with the bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki. The major mistake was the bombing of Pearl Harbour and the determination of the American to pay back what they saw as treachery.
Recent history reports point to the number of Japanese spies who had a detailed intelligence of all aspects of US and Europe. One was a British peer according to history reports.
Trekking groups would be briefed at battle sites with a broad picture after the evening meal. The course of the Kokoda campaign was very straight forward with Australians advancing and meeting the Japanese who forced an Australian retreat.
Then the Japanese retreated in view of the lights of Port Moresby to be followed to Buna and Gona by Australians and US troops. There had been massive bravery in the campaign with Australians taken by surprise and fighting a rear guard action to Owers Corner.
The most heart warming trek was led by the Trade Unions with Bill Shorten. They were interested, polite, attentive and asked many questions. Bill and I respected each other. At the end, they took up a collection for me that was not expected and not asked for.
The most appalling trek included a middle aged yobbo builder from Walgett who came with his son-in-law. He knew little about the war but made himself an expert loud mouth. He did not want to hear rubbish about oil blockades and invasion of China. He wanted to hear about dead Japs.
On this trek I had damaged the nerve in my right knee cap while crossing rocks at Wai-Ule Creek. I was in agony and dropped back in the line. The yobbo fronted to me and demanded that as team leader I had to be up the front.
I had never taken a place at the front. The trek leader was a young man who led the racehorses at the very front. Some trekkers think this is the Melbourne Cup. He is also the guide.
I stayed in the middle of the line ahead of the Sweeper who picked up those who had dropped way behind. I watched those struggling in the middle of the line.
After some hours, the yobbo trekker came and announced that if I refused to be at the front, he would take over as leader. I struggled with an elastic bandage on my left knee. This fool made the trek become the blind leading the blind.
He went straight past the usual briefing points. He would occasionally in a loud voice demand to know what happened here in detail. He spoiled the trek. He went straight past the Isurava battle field. Our treks had a memorial service before moving on. Not this time.
I am sure he would be a violent builder in Walgett bashing carpenters and apprentices. He threatened his son-in- law with violence several times.
His final act of stupidity came at the Kokoda airport. He demanded that I commandeer an aircraft as we were there first. That is not the way it happens. Aircraft arrive to pick up specific groups for specific destinations. How would we be commandeering an aircraft to Sydney? It would be called piracy. The police would be waiting to arrest us.
When I refused and let the proper group go ahead, I was abused and threatened by the yobbo who screamed to the group and set up a rotten atmosphere with jeering and anger. On arrival at Jackson's airport I turned from them all and walked away. Never before or since.
The worst trek consisted of 8 men from Sydney and Forbes who were more interested in sex with young boys and girls. The porters could understand what they were talking about and were disgusted. They wanted to get to the hotel to seek out sex from young boys and girls.
These white niggers from Australia used to strip naked every afternoon and stand in the stream showing off their balls to whoever was watching, often trekkers from other groups - men and women.
They had no idea they were making the porters ashamed. Who cares about the porters? PNG men are extremely modest. I was accused of never washing as I never appeared with them naked in the middle of the stream. I washed alone later in the afternoon as the porters did.
On the way back down the track, our bus was stopped by a group of village men who wanted to know what we were doing. I stepped off the bus and talked to them in polite Tok Pisin.
But a loud mouth fool had put his head out the window of the bus and swore at them. He told them to piss off. The village men were angry.
They were getting ready to drag him off the bus when I apologised for our mentally retarded trekker. I asked them to look the other way which they did. Em i long long man. No ken wari. He gives us trouble too. It could have ended violently.
It seemed they had been talking to porters at Ower's Corner the start of the Kokoda Track south-north about the group of "girly girly" trekkers who planned to come to Port Moresby for sex with children. The porters who understood English had heard their stories at night.
I was not included. I promised to put the group on an aircraft for Sydney so they let us go. The paedophile trekkers were as quiet as mice for the rest of the trip when I told them what had happened. They had not understood the Tok Pisin. Many villagers on the Kokoda Track are Seventh Day Adventist with strict morality.
My most disastrous trek was with a film team from Adelaide. It was a great trek led by the film director with me tagging along with the military history.
We were trekking down Brigade Hill in the rain and following a steep and slippery path to the creek. I slipped and fell head first about 30 metres into the creek. I was seriously injured and could hear the director calling to the camera man for him to catch that action.
I could not take up the option for a casevac helicopter. I was still leading the trek with the director. So I walked up Imita Ridge holding a rope supported by two porters. My spine is still damaged from all those years ago. People have told me of the video appearing on local TV.
I am old now but never forget the experience of understanding the retreat of the Australians of the 39th militia battalion, the 53rd battalion, 2/14th, 2/16th and 2/26th.
The militia had come up the track to give support to the US engineers about to build an airstrip complex on the coast. The advancing Japanese took them completely by surprise. The commanding officer of the 39th was killed at Kokoda. The Japanese commander General Horii never made it back in retreat over the flooded Kumusi River.
The militia were not fighters but more comfortable with picks and shovels. The 53rd had built Wards Strip in Port Moresby named after their commanding officer killed on the track by the Japanese. They were on the Abuari side opposite Isurava, completely without direction and afraid of the unseen advancing Japanese.
They were young boys. I read of how LTCOL Ward's radio man was in the battle zone but had never fired a rifle. His son reported that he cried even in recent years for untrained dead comrades.
In recent years, on Remembrance Day, the PNG Government gives honour to the Japanese who died as well as Australians, Americans and the Papuan Infantry Battalion. Indian soldiers died after capture to work as coolies.
One group of Indians was rescued but killed when the DC3 aircraft was shot down by Japanese fighters. Their unmarked graves are in the Lae war cemetery.
These days, there are hundreds of Japanese volunteers working in projects in Papua New Guinea. The Walgett yobbo was behind the times in his racist declaration that the only good Jap is a dead Jap. Isn't that right son? Yes dad.
The new generation of Japanese are not samurai warriors but democrats framed by the constitution of General MacArthur. The ex-PNG Prime Minister O'Neill farewelled Mr Abe, the President of Japan for all his kindness and friendship as he prepares to retire with ill health.