New Caledonia

Captain James Cook discovered it in 1774, and its mountains so reminded him of Scotland-Caledonia-that he named it accordingly. But even the great English navigator, impressed though he was, could hardly have foretold how important a part that South Pacific island was to play in our modern world.

Both geography and geology decreed a notable destiny for New Caledonia. It flanks the lifeline over which men and equipment have been pouring from the United States to Australia. And in its ancient rocks are found rich deposits of nickel, chromite, cobalt, iron-all sorely needed in war.

Today the mines are booming, and American troops, warships, and planes, with the approval of Free French authorities, now assist in the island's defense.

At the stores in Noumea, the capital, French products are no longer obtainable. Australian and, more recently, American goods are being substituted. California wines, American cigarettes, toothpaste, and other commodities make the local shops look almost like stores on Main Street, U. S. A.

Travelers in peacetime can fly to New Caledonia, for Noumea is a stop on the regular route of Pan American clippers flying between the United States and New Zealand.

At sunset of an austral summer day at the end of January, 1941, Reddy, our snappy steward, announced, "In 20 minutes we will be in Nournea."

I saw through the small window of the giant Pan American clipper the mass of mountains and the red plateaus of New Caledonia. To me the familiar landscape brought back memories of my previous trips by foot and horse-back through the desolate but rich mineral sections in the south of the island.

The deep blue of the open ocean contrasted with the pale green-blue of the lagoons and the white foam of waves breaking against the outer belt of coral reefs.

As the clipper climbed high to avoid the cloud-ringed mountain tops of the central chain, I made a quick change from my khaki shorts and blue sport shirt, which had been the ideal attire during two hot days on Canton Island, and donned more formal clothes.

Provincial France, even in the South Pacific, expected dignified dress on important occasions, and I knew that several officials of my company and friends would be waiting for me.

Through the thin lower clouds, patches of red roofs, water, and gardens outlined the town of Nournea, capital of New Caledonia. After circling around, the clipper slid smoothly into the water and taxied toward the airport of Nouville.

Under the big tricolor on the pier's flagstaff floated a blue fanion with the red cross of Lorraine, insignia of the Free French Government. This insignia was embroidered on the left side of the tunics of young soldiers who cheered us from the steps of their barracks, former living quarters for the penal colony of 40 years ago.

Going across the bay by launch from Nouville to Noumea, I asked why there were three big Japanese freighters in ballast. I was told that by order of General de Gaulle no more iron or nickel ore could be exported from New Caledonia to Japan. The ships would have to return with empty holds.

Further conversations with my friends made me realize that many changes had taken place since my departure seven months before. The fall of France in that fateful June of 1940 had wide repercussions in her distant Pacific possessions, particularly in New Caledonia.

During the first nine months of World War II, few changes had been noticeable here. The only obvious differences had been some uniforms in the street, and the cancellation of the horse races and the September festivities, held in honor of the colony's founding on September 24, 1853. The arrival of the mail steamer from France had continued to be an important event. French magazines and Paris styles had kept femininity busy for several days after the unloading of …"