The air is filled with smoke from the charcoal burner’s pyres. The sandalwood that brought traders has almost gone, replaced with the swaying coconut palms and their offerings that litter the mountainous landscape. The wind blows hard in Vanuatu or New Hebrides as it used to be called and the currents flow quickly in the straits between the 83 islands that make up the south pacific archipelago. Deep water channels made the chain a perfect WW2 naval base and in May of 1942 the wind blew in the Americans.
New Hebrides was suddenly inundated with 100,000 brash Americans who instantly took over the islands, doubling the population overnight. They brought in thousands of tons of machinery built roads, hospitals, barracks, wharves and airstrips all over the islands in an attempt to hold back the Japanese tide that was sweeping out of the Solomon Islands. At first the locals were afraid and ran for the hills thinking they were Japanese but later welcomed the newcomers and the new infrastructure they brought with them. The American Seabees and Army Corps of Engineers built with great speed putting to shame the French and British 36 years of joint-rule where nothing more than a mud hut was ever built. For the first time the New Hebrideans had jobs and respect from these would-be invaders, astounded with the equality that was shown too black and white alike. These generous foreigners greatly improved the native’s lifestyle with gifts of food, clothing, furniture and ice boxes all acquisitioned from the American PX. They had, for the first time better living conditions, medical facilities, and economic growth.
The early 1940’s were the halcyon days for the local people of this tropical paradise being only attacked once by a Japanese plane resulting in the only and unfortunate death of Bessie-the-cow. They never witnessed the horror of Japanese occupied Solomon Islands or Papua New Guinea. They saw only fair-treatment, better living conditions, modern medical aid and a vast expansion of facilities that are still in use today with little or no upgrading, sixty years later.
Three years later and the war ended. The Americans left as quickly as they arrived. The policy that funded the war effort meant the American economy could not sustain the sudden influx of the all the equipment that had been used to build everything on the islands. So, America suggested to the Anglo-French government that they might like to purchase the bulldozers, trucks, cranes and modern workshop equipment for the price of only seven cents in the dollar. They stalled and fumbled around in attempt to delay and finally said no, saying that the Americans would leave it behind anyway so why should we pay for it. This response disgusted the Americans so much that they replied with bulldozing every movable object into the ocean causing massive devastation to coral reefs not just at Million Dollar Point on Espirtu Santo but all around the island and on Efate and the other larger islands they inhabited as well.
Sixty years on and what was once a thriving coral reel has become a thriving artificial one. It seems ironic that that this single act of mindless sabotage, this act of a petulant child gave Vanuatu their greatest gift. Could the Americans have realised that the French and British both had huge costs to bear after the war as well and they themselves could not have afforded to buy the equipment? Could the Americans have realised it would not have been the French or the British that suffered but the local people they loved and respected? And yet if things had been different then New Hebrides would never have become Vanuatu and the land that gave us the musical ‘South Pacific’ and bungee-jumping would not have been free.
A US Army Jeep at ‘Million Dollar Point’
Divers at ‘Million Dollar Point’
‘Bungee-jumping’ on Pentecost Island
