Looking for True Stories

 20th April 2023

Dear (Entertainment Company),

 According to your ad you’re looking for true stories to adapt into things like films and the like. I happen to have written a play inspired by true events in my life.  The true parts are rather brutal and the false parts were a resolution so the true story is there to be made.

 I mean, this is kind of a “The Glass Menagerie” kind of situation where I deal with my abusive family. The problem with the truth is that I never could get my life together, and I live below the poverty line. Still, I’ve done some odd things in addition to living with a toxic family.

 I’ve spent six years working with the homeless, and at both shelters I got canned because I suffered an on duty injury. In college I was stalked by a psychotic writing teacher and now I’m being stalked by a psychotic homosexual truck driver that wants to by pictures of my junk.

 I have to admit here that your ad is a little unclear on personal tragedies. I do have a history of dealing with corrupt animal control people, but that is the most law enforcement story I have.

 In any case, you should sit down and talk with me for a spell. It would probably be an interesting conversation even if you can’t find a story to sell.

 Best,

 

Richard Leland Neal

 

Hay there Co-Writer

15th April 2023

Hay there Co-Writer,

From your ad I guess you’re looking for someone with the hunger for success to help you write the second film in a horror franchise. Me, I have the endless aching hunger of the Wendigo cutting into my soul. My life itself is a horror story of that quiet nature of sadness being never truly violent but always horrific, but that’s not important.

Back in college I took a writing class, and the teacher said he’d send my work to a production company. I wrote the first draft of a film in twenty-one days and handed it in. He read it and gave me notes and I had the next draft to him the following morning. Every time he gave me notes I had the film ready for him the next morning.

He lied about sending my work to a production company. In the end, he kept talking like all I needed was to get a good grade. What are grades once you get into the real world?

Anyway, here is a link to my IMDB
 

And to two short horror films that I wrote that got made. I play the fat man.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-Vg4iLPeGNk&t=364s

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eWny0Kso4Tg

Originally I wrote the first one as a thirty second film called “Human Suit” but the director wanted to add some gore to the thing, and so it needed some back story. As he had two young children I came up with an idea capitalizing on the available talent. I was to enter a dark room, sit down, and then it was to look as if his youngest child were an imp that crawled out of my gut as if I were a suit of some kind.

His idea of having me explode was more expensive, less creepy, and needed more back story to make it a true film. Why would an imp wear a human suit? Because imps are deceptive magical things that go about fooling people. Why would a child burst from a man’s chest? Yeah, that one needs some more explanation.

So you can have a look at what my work I’ll enclose a full length film I wrote.

Best,

 

Richard Leland Neal

Kokoda Trail - Owers’ Corner

I started the morning with slightly damp boots at the base of the Maguli Range and its nine false peaks. Heading through grassland, the first false peak was at 3,280ft (1,000m). I counted each one of them, so I knew how many I had left before I reached the top at 4,429ft (1,350m). It was very tiring, and it felt demoralising when each time I reached a plateau thinking I was at the top, there was the next false peak just waiting for me.

Of course, just as I reached the top, having climbed 1,960m (600m), I had the equal descent down to Ofi Creek, with a good dose of muddy terrain awaiting me for the next 2,296ft (700m). I kept going, passing through Ioribaiwa village, flanked by more kunai grass, crossing over small boulders at Va-Ule Creek and then another steep descent into dense forest until I reached Imita Ridge.

Imita Ridge was Australia’s last stand after a relentless two-month Japanese advance. With tin helmets and bayonets, the Aussies dug themselves in and waited but the Japanese never came as they hadn’t advanced beyond Ioribaiwa Ridge. With exhausted supplies, starving and in a terrible state, the Japanese were ordered to quietly retreat all the way back to the north coast. For the Aussies, the arrival of fresh reinforcements gave them the strength to start their counter-offensive in early to mid-October. Within a few more weeks the Japanese were pushed back to the north coast at Buna-Gona. By January 1943 with the assistance of United States forces, the Japanese were completely routed from Papua New Guinea.

From Imita Ridge, I descended to Goldie River – 82ft (25m) wide and 3ft (1m) deep, the river had a strong current with no logs for crossing. Boots off and steady fording, I waded through the river to the other side. Back in 1942, the trail from the river to Imita was further east and ascended via the “Golden Stairs”. The stairs consisted of over 2,000 (some say it was 3,000) timber steps cut into the mountainside, climbing 1,312ft (400m), descending 1,640 (500m) before climbing another 2,296ft (700m) over a distance of 3mi (5km). This was an exhausting climb for the troops, each soldier laden with 44-66lb (20-30kg) of weapons and supplies. Once they reached the top, they needed to be in fighting form to defend Imita and then engage in the counter-offensive.

With a final uphill push and over one more false peak, I crossed beneath the Kokoda Trail Arch at Owers’ Corner. Turning towards the north, I marvelled at the enormity of my accomplishment, having conquered the Kokoda Trail. I was in awe of the soldiers who, through a seesaw of advancement or retreat, never wavered, pushing through rain and slushy mud, climbing numerous peaks (some near vertical) and crossing endless rivers.

Humbled by the history, yet empowered by my experience, I take my leave from Owers’ Corner and head for Port Moresby for a very long shower and a mighty hearty feed.

This poem is an apt description of what the Aussie soldiers endured during their time in the Kokoda campaign: https://www.kokodawalkway.com.au/a-poem/

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Kokoda Trail - Maoro

Following a short descent, I hiked up a very steep section, hugging the mountainside before the track became “just” steep. I emerged onto the grassy ridge of Brigade Hill. The biggest battle of the campaign was fought here in early September. Brigadier Arnold Potts decided that Brigade Hill was an excellent defensive position due to its high ground. He set up his headquarters near a knoll and had three infantry battalions, spread apart on the opposite side of the hill on Mission Ridge. This strategy created a weakness which the Japanese exploited by infiltrating the line and cutting Potts off from the rest of his troops. Suffering heavy casualties, Potts ordered a withdrawal. The retreat was disorderly, with one of the units finding themselves deep in the jungle, taking weeks of trudging before they reunited with their comrades.

During the campaign the mountain ridge was forested but today it was cleared for a campsite and a very simple war memorial that consisted of a plaque and several rows of sapling trees equally distanced, representing each Australian who died defending the hill.

From Brigade Hill there was an extremely steep and tiresome descent dropping 2,296ft (700m) of elevation, placing a significant amount of pressure on all the major muscles in the legs and the glutes.

Another log crossing later, I walked into Menari, a village where Potts’ troops withdrew to. It was also the site of a famous photo of the 39th Battalion taken after weeks of fighting in the dense jungle. The photo became the cover of the book, Those Ragged Bloody Heroes by Peter Brune.

A steep climb up to the saddle was rewarded with views back to Menari and the nearby peaks of Mt Tamata and Mt Victoria. The final descent was met with swampy terrain, where the trail was difficult to follow. Reaching the wide Brown River, the typical tree logs used for crossing were under water in several sections. Removing my boots and socks whilst standing on the muddy bank was a fine balancing act. Holding onto a rope, I made my way into the fast-flowing river and cautiously moved through it until I reached the other side of the bank.

With my boots back on, I trudged through the swampy track. With each step, my boots sunk into the muddy holes, the excess water spilling into my shoes and wetting my socks. I carried on until I finally reached Naoro where I cleaned myself up, gave my boots a good scrubbing and put them out to dry. Exhausted, I passed out into a deep sleep. No dreaming this time.

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Kokoda Trail - Efogi

The climb up to Mount Bellamy was so steep in some places I thought I was walking vertically. The ground was very muddy and slippery. The small brown snake slithering across the path just added to the mental challenge, although I’ve been reassured that it was not poisonous. Of the 100 snake species in PNG, 53 are poisonous, never mind the spiders, scorpions, wild bees, and numerous other critters making the jungle their home. I know I’d prefer to see PNG’s national bird, the Raggiana bird-of-paradise, with their fantastic reddish-orange plumage and long tail feather or Queen Alexandra’s Birdwing, the world’s largest butterfly - it has a wingspan of 12in/30cm, 10 times larger than the average butterfly.

Anyway, I managed to stay upright, not burying myself in the mud and with a great deal of elation reached the highest point on this journey, Mount Bellamy’s summit of 7,185ft (2,190m). I cannot fathom the difficulties the soldiers endured carrying supplies or the stretcher bearers carrying wounded men.

Having made it to the highest point, I thought I was on the home run, but what went up had to come down. The incredibly steep descent was eye-watering. Though the track was drier, I felt the load on my knees, and I needed to be wary of the kunai grass flanking the trail before Kagi Gap. This perennial grass has a fluffy white, cylindrical flower but it is the sharp blade-like edges of the grass that is of concern as it easily cuts the skin. The leaf has silica crystals embedded in its finely toothed margins and as the soldiers moved through the trail it would tear through their clothing, slashing their skin.

As I exited the forest into the open grassland, I could see Kagi Village downhill in the distance and after a descent of 2,296ft (700m) I walked into the village. I stopped long enough to refresh myself and pushed on further downhill on an even steeper track until I reached a small creek at an elevation of 3,215ft (980m). After another log crossing, I was back up a very steep ascent. The track opened up into a clearing and into Launumu Village.

A small Japanese monument was raised in the village by Corporal Nishimura who was the sole survivor of his troop of 42 men. He survived by hiding in a hollow tree stump for two days. He pledged that he would return to release the spirits of his men and he did so 37 years after the war.

After another steep descent, I entered Efogi, a large village with a population of 350 residents. It was kitted out with both a primary and secondary school, a health centre, and a communal campsite.

Making my weary muscles as comfortable as possible, I settled in my tent and fairly swiftly dozed off, fitfully dreaming about the next significant downhill trek.

Photo © Jonty Crane

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Kokoda Trail - Templeton’s Crossing

The next round of hiking was extremely difficult. Each short section of the steep climb made me think I had reached the peak of the mountain, only to find out that there was another peak up ahead. The continuous false peaks, burning calves and tight thighs felt eternal. This section of the trek is home to numerous leeches. These very thin black worms like to attach themselves to humans, get their fill until they’re fully bloated and then fall off, many of us, and I’m sure especially the soldiers, found these parasites aggravating. With my long pants tucked into my boots and a good dose of mosquito repellent on - apparently, they hate the chemical DEET in it - I pushed on until I made it to the actual peak of this section of the mountain. I gained 5,249ft (1600m) of altitude since I left Kokoda and I was standing at an elevation 6,266ft (1,910m). However, this wasn’t the highest point on this journey. That was yet to come.

Descending again through swampy creeks, the trail was slippery and boggy, making it hard on the knees. A couple of times, I had to climb over big fallen tree trunks, but I took the time to appreciate the beautiful red foliage of the Cordilyne Fruticosa as it dotted itself amongst the green jungle. 

I arrived at Templeton Crossing and just like Eora Creek, it was the site of two separate battles. The retreating Australians fought a short battle in September, but the bigger battle was during the counter-offensive in October.

Although ordered to withdraw, the Japanese were still very keen to capture Port Moresby. With well selected positions at Templeton, they lay in wait for the advancing Aussies. Not seeing the camouflaged machine gun muzzles until it was too late, the Aussies suffered severe casualties until they came back with fresh troops and managed to dislodge the Japanese and push them back to Eora Creek. 

Crossing yet another river, I climbed onto the single plank bridge and held onto the single rope, slowly and carefully walking over it. Once on the other side, I took a load off, had a bite to eat, refreshed myself and mentally prepared for the steep climb to the highest point on this trek.

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Kokoda Trail - Eora Creek

A short distance after Isurava was a rest house where the Aussie troops took a defensive position. Slightly to the south of the house was a sizable flat-topped rock, just big enough to lay down a soldier with his feet protruding, that is now referred to as Con’s Rock or Surgeon’s Rock. Under minimal light, it is on this rock that Medical Orderly Con Vapp performed an emergency amputation on an Aussie soldier. The wounded soldier’s name and if he survived remains unknown. Many wounded soldiers had to travel over 44mi (70km) under their own strength to get medical assistance in Port Moresby. The seriously wounded were moved by local native carriers. It would take eight carriers to carry one soldier the full distance.

Above the rock was a plaque dedicated to the memory of Butch Bissett who died in the arms of his brother Stan Bissett. Butch was handing out grenades to his unit when he was shot. Stan was an intelligence officer and survived the war. Nearby was a neatly piled collection of rusty live ammunition - hand grenades and mortars – along with helmets, water flasks and a coil of signal wire. The ‘Do not touch’ advice from the guides seemed rightfully good advice.

The terrain was undulating with vines spreading through the jungle like a rug, followed by several steep uphill motions until I reached a small waterfall and crossed one of the many log bridges. The route was riddled with protruding roots; surefootedness was necessary and using hiking poles helped keep my balance. I came out into a clearing and reached the village of Alola.

Continuing on, the track descended for about 656ft (200m) where I crossed a creek over a beautifully arched sapling and vine bridge, then the ascent began again before it levelled out a bit all the way to Eora Creek. The log crossing here was 62ft (19m) long and somewhat precarious as the Eora is a raging river all year round. Log bridges often get washed away over winter and the locals have to rebuild them each year before the trekking season commences.

A small bronze plaque sat in a clearing describing the two battles fought here. In early September, over two days the retreating Australians successfully defended their position, allowing them sufficient time to fall back towards Port Moresby. Then in mid-October, the Japanese during their retreat dug themselves a solid defensive position. From higher ground, nine artillery units rained fire onto the advancing Australian troops, resisting their frontal attacks. It would take the Australians six days to overcome the Japanese. Once the Japanese found themselves nearly encircled, they abandoned their location and retreated back to Oivi (north of Kokoda).

The Eora Creek Village now lies abandoned with a few rusty pieces of ammunition as evidence of the tough battle fought here.

Photo © Jonty Crane



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