WWII has broken out and the Japanese are sweeping down through the Pacific Islands towards Australia and are seemingly unstoppable. Utilising the specialised skills in tracking and bush survival Joe had learnt in his youth going walkabout with the aboriginals on his fathers 4 million acre cattle station in far north Western Australia, Joe is made an officer and put in command of a team of twelve highly trained men. These men are part of an elite force called the Australian Jungle Survival and Rescue Detachment. Their missions are to rescue any Allied airmen shot down by the enemy over New Guinea and surrounding Pacific islands. They are flown to the crash sites in a C47 transport plane with an escort of fighter planes, and under cover of night parachute into enemy held territory to search for and rescue any survivors, who they then take to the coast for extraction by submarine, seaplane or destroyer. Extract from novel...The night was so sultry and humid I could have cut it with a knife, and so dark it was impossible to see my hand in front of my face as I parachuted towards the invisible jungle somewhere two thousand feet below me. My chute was made from black silk and it was invisible against the night sky above me, and with no moon and stars to illuminate the night, I felt like I was falling down a bottomless, black well. The drone of the perfectly good aeroplane we had just jumped from was gradually diminishing into the distance, until the only sounds were the sigh and rush of wind passing through the many cords attached to the parachute. Somewhere above and behind me were twelve other men, my team of highly trained specialists in jungle warfare and survival, and in all likelihood experiencing the same emotions and trepidation as I was. Our mission was to locate and extract any survivors from a crashed American bomber that had been shot down by Japanese zeros yesterday. If any survivors were found, we would make our way to the coast for extraction by submarine that was hopefully heading towards the coordinates of the pickup point at this very moment. Since I had jumped from the C47 I had been mentally counting down the seconds, and with the jungle canopy now racing towards me at break neck speed, I braced myself as I stalled the parachute to lessen the impact of colliding with the trees and branches any second. As the sudden and violent impact drove the wind from my lungs I was unaware I had been holding my breath until I exhaled loudly. I tried to curl myself into a ball to avoid injuring myself as I fell through the tree canopy with a loud crash and crack of breaking branches and covered my face with one arm as I was whipped and slashed by the passing branches and leaves. The parachute finally became snagged in the high branches and I jerked to a sudden stop and hung suspended from my harness. I fumbled for the quick release catches on my pack strapped to my front and letting it fall listened intently for the sound of impact with the ground. Counting the seconds I was surprised to only count to five before I heard the dull thud. I was closer to the ground than I would have thought and thanked my lucky stars the chute got caught up just when it did. My next task was to release the chute harness and climb down the tree I was caught in without falling and injuring myself. I had a small torch in one of the pockets of my flak jacket and when I shone it around and below me, I saw what I was looking for. Just off to my right, and ten feet below, was a stout branch that I hoped would support my weight. I took a deep breath and then put the torch between my teeth before punching the quick release catch of my harness. As I fell the branch flashed past me and I grabbed at it with both hands and hung onto it tightly for dear life. My arms felt like they had been ripped from their sockets and I quickly swung a leg over the branch and hauled myself up onto it and sat astride it while I caught my breath and tried to calm my
