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Letter from Solomon Islands: Stuck in a muddy hell Letter from Solomon Islands: Stuck in a muddy hell
(4 months later)
I had promised my team I would be back by 2pm. "If you're not here I'll look for you on the Vura Track," I told them. So promptly at 2pm I brought the Hilux bouncing and slithering to a halt at the Cross Road Canteen. As usual it was closed. The team was nowhere to be seen. I paused for a handful of peanuts and a swallow of water and turned south towards Vura.I had promised my team I would be back by 2pm. "If you're not here I'll look for you on the Vura Track," I told them. So promptly at 2pm I brought the Hilux bouncing and slithering to a halt at the Cross Road Canteen. As usual it was closed. The team was nowhere to be seen. I paused for a handful of peanuts and a swallow of water and turned south towards Vura.
The going was easy and my thoughts wandered back to my boyhood. Ealing, circa 1955. I used to stay with Jimmy, and his parents let us stay up late every night watching television. The most exciting programmes were American, of course. One of our favourites was OSS, which was set in Guadalcanal during the second world war. I remember the phrase "It was hell in the mud." It was a few years before I found out that Guadalcanal was in the Solomon Islands, and a few more before I discovered for myself the infernal nature of the rain-soaked ground.The going was easy and my thoughts wandered back to my boyhood. Ealing, circa 1955. I used to stay with Jimmy, and his parents let us stay up late every night watching television. The most exciting programmes were American, of course. One of our favourites was OSS, which was set in Guadalcanal during the second world war. I remember the phrase "It was hell in the mud." It was a few years before I found out that Guadalcanal was in the Solomon Islands, and a few more before I discovered for myself the infernal nature of the rain-soaked ground.
My reverie ended abruptly. I saw that I was facing an urgent decision. There was a nasty-looking mud hole ahead of me and I had to decide whether to stop, steer left or steer right. Stopping was for wimps. The ground to the left looked a little firmer but there was a big log which I might collide with. So I steered right. The Hilux sank to its sump and stuck.My reverie ended abruptly. I saw that I was facing an urgent decision. There was a nasty-looking mud hole ahead of me and I had to decide whether to stop, steer left or steer right. Stopping was for wimps. The ground to the left looked a little firmer but there was a big log which I might collide with. So I steered right. The Hilux sank to its sump and stuck.
A couple of boys came along, one of them with a bike. I asked if there was anyone living nearby who had a truck and a tow rope. There was a conversation in the local language and the boy with a bike took off towards the road.A couple of boys came along, one of them with a bike. I asked if there was anyone living nearby who had a truck and a tow rope. There was a conversation in the local language and the boy with a bike took off towards the road.
After 10 minutes I saw the boy returning with an old man who had neither truck nor tow rope. Nor did he have shoes. The man who had given the boy his instructions said, "Before he retired he was a driver at the gold mine."After 10 minutes I saw the boy returning with an old man who had neither truck nor tow rope. Nor did he have shoes. The man who had given the boy his instructions said, "Before he retired he was a driver at the gold mine."
I handed the old man the key and stood aside. He then asked a few of us to stand on the back and bounce up and down. We did. The back wheels gripped and the truck moved backward – back towards the road, the canteen, solid ground.I handed the old man the key and stood aside. He then asked a few of us to stand on the back and bounce up and down. We did. The back wheels gripped and the truck moved backward – back towards the road, the canteen, solid ground.
We jumped off and I raised a cheer. He climbed out of the cab with the easy familiarity of John Wayne dismounting from a horse, gave me back the key and politely asked for a lift home. I would have given him the shirt off my back.We jumped off and I raised a cheer. He climbed out of the cab with the easy familiarity of John Wayne dismounting from a horse, gave me back the key and politely asked for a lift home. I would have given him the shirt off my back.
Every week Guardian Weekly publishes a Letter from one of its readers from around the world. We welcome submissions – they should focus on giving our readers a clear sense of a place and its people. Please send them to weekly.letter.from@guardian.co.ukEvery week Guardian Weekly publishes a Letter from one of its readers from around the world. We welcome submissions – they should focus on giving our readers a clear sense of a place and its people. Please send them to weekly.letter.from@guardian.co.uk
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