The rumours further went on to hint at a plan, emanating from Major General Mackay’s suggestion, which would later become known as ‘The Brisbane Line’, wherein it was anticipated seven-eighths of the continent would capitulate to the enemy. This plan was to be enacted, or so the rumours said, in order to protect the south-east sliver between Brisbane and Melbourne, which was considered to be of the most military, economic and social importance. Where would that then leave those to the north? Were they to be deserted? Little wonder many felt a sense of betrayal.

As yet none of this was openly broadcast to the Australian people, but news had definitely been leaked from somewhere. The rumours continued to abound as rumours do, and there was every reason to believe them, particularly given the fact that preparations for a ‘scorched earth’ policy had already begun.

Small craft were to be removed from harbours and rivers; signboards had disappeared from railway stations and roads; people were requested to destroy road maps in case they fell into enemy hands; and those considered ‘aliens’ were being moved into internment camps. Massive cattle musters were organised too, thousands upon thousands of beasts shifted vast distances in order to prevent the provision of fresh meat to the Japanese should they successfully invade. Things were becoming decidedly ominous.

War had without doubt changed the face of Townsville. The once-gracious beachside walk down The Strand, where across the water Magnetic Island beckoned, was now a coastal mess of barbed wire and gun emplacements. The Kissing Point Fortification at the rocky northern end again served the purpose it had during World War I, a combined army barracks and battery of vital strategic value; and any number of buildings along The Strand had been requisitioned for military use. The Seaview Hotel was now an Australian Officers’ Club; St Patrick’s convent served as accommodation for the Women’s Auxiliary Australian Air Force, its students, along with those from several other schools, having been evacuated to Ravenswood; and at the southern end of The Strand, where Wickham Street led up to Flinders and the main hub of Townsville, the magnificent two-storey Queen’s Hotel, embracing the entire corner virtually a block each way and considered the finest hotel in the whole of Northern Queensland, now housed the American Officers’ Club.

In the town’s centre, the grand boulevard of Flinders Street still boasted many fine, colonial buildings, including the post office, although the imposing clock tower was in the process of being removed for fear it would serve as a beacon for Japanese bombers. There was much impressive architecture in the other broad streets that formed the core of Townsville, too – hotels and public buildings for the most part – but it was difficult to get a perspective. In whatever direction one looked, the eye was distracted by the seething mass of military activity.