Two years ago, I wrote about Lark Force at Rabaul and how a small Australian garrison, sent forward on a strategic idea that no longer made sense, was quickly overwhelmed when the Japanese attacked. That story didn’t end on the battlefield but at sea, with the sinking of the Montevideo Maru and the loss of over a thousand Australian prisoners of war and civilians, whose fates went almost unnoticed at the time.
It began as a deep distant rumbling, like the stirring of some gargantuan subterranean beast.
It was unsettling at first, ominous, something you felt in your guts more than you heard with your ears, an eerie subsonic vibration that seemed to rise from the bowels of Hades.