The Dead of Night

by John Marsden

  Only when the candle was burning steadily did he speak.

  "What was it I said to you and your friends in this very spot, just twenty-four hours ago?"

  "Um, well, you said that things weren't as bad here as in Wirrawee, and, urn, that you'd blown up some power stations, and all about how this was, urn, a military," I suddenly realised why the major was so mad, "a military operation."

  "Exactly. A military operation. And what does that mean, in practical terms?"

  "Well, that we have to obey orders and stuff."

  "Exactly." His voice strengthened. "Do you know what's wrong with this country? Do you know why we've been invaded?"

  Now he moved. His head came forward like a snake that's heard a dangerous noise. "I'll tell you what's wrong with this country. We've become slack, we've become soft, we've lost our way. If you ask me, these people have done us a favour by invading. We can learn a lot from them. They're a disciplined organised force of well-led soldiers. You won't hear any talk of consensus from them. You won't hear any talk of 'individual rights,' or 'personal freedom.' They know what's what. If we can stiffen the spine of this country we might end up with a nation to be proud of, instead of a self-indulgent bunch of whingers." The candle flared, and showed for a moment the dark anger in his face. "I'll tell you what we want here. I'll tell you what people need." He was starting to shout now. I just stood there numbly. "They need strong leadership, leaders they can respect. They need leaders they can look up to. This country took a wrong turn years ago, and it's time to put things right again!"

  Uh yeah, whatever you say, I was thinking, backing away a little.

  The major sat back in his chair and picked up a file of notes. "Now," he said, talking in a calm reasonable voice again, "I am prepared to consider your request. Your young friend, I assume he has adequate food and shelter?"

  "Oh yes."

  "Then there is no great urgency?"

  "Well, we didn't want to leave him there on his own for too long, that's all."

  "You should have thought of that before you set out. You people who just make things up as you go along have a lot to learn. You may make a written request to me for permission to go back to your camp to collect him. Include a detailed map, estimates of the time required, and the supplies and personnel you will need. That is all. You may dismiss."

  I left, feeling a little shaky. I didn't have the energy to cope with this. But the other thing, almost more disturbing, was the relief I'd felt when he turned down our plans. I knew we had to go back and get Chris, but that was the only reason I was doing it, because I knew we had to. Secretly, I had no enthusiasm for the gruelling trek, and no enthusiasm for Chris either at the moment. I felt really guilty about that, because I knew how I'd feel if I were back there on my own, and I also knew how important it was for us to hang together, the six of us. A lot depended on that.

  Then, the next morning, the morning of the meeting, I'd had another ugly session with the major. Sharyn had given me a bucket of cleaning materials and told me to go clean his tent. Looking back now I can sec it was a set-up, but I didn't realise that at the time. Instead I trudged off to his tent feeling resentful. I was thinking about Harvey's Heroes, and thinking that their problem was that they were trying to pretend there was no war. Underneath all the military disguises was just a group of ordinary middle-aged townspeople who were trying to live out here in the bush the way they had always lived in their nice brick-veneer houses in Risdon. They gossiped; they swapped gardening tips and talked about their children; they cleaned or cooked or pottered around doing odd jobs. One of them had asked me the day before if I played bridge. Only Major Harvey was different. He was driven by some lust that the others didn't have. I think he enjoyed his power over them but at the same time was frustrated by the fact that they weren't combat-hardened troops whom he could throw into the front line of some huge battle.

  Thinking all this, I began my cleaning job in a mood of resentment, hostility. It just seemed too ridiculous to be dusting and sweeping. And I felt humiliated that I, Ellie, who blew up bridges, should be at the beck and call of this little imitation Hitler. Aggressively, I swept out the leaves that had blown in, pulled down a cobweb in the back left-hand corner of the tent, and polished the two visitors' chairs. I didn't even look at the bed; there was no way I was going to touch that.

  I moved around to his side of the desk to start work there. I saw a pile of papers; the top one a manila folder with Confidential written on it. I didn't hesitate. With no real fascination, just a casual thought of, This should be good for a laugh, I opened it. The top page was an A4 sheet headed Report of Power Station Attack, and filled with small writing. I bent over so I could read it properly, but as I began the first line I became aware of a presence in the tent. I looked up quickly. There was the major, standing in the doorway, head tilted to the right, fierce dark eyes staring at me.

  There was nothing I could do of course. I was completely in the wrong, or at least that's what I thought at the time. And I knew already that he had no sense of humour, so it was no good trying to make a joke of it.

  "Sorry," I said apologetically. "Just looking."

  He folded his arms but said nothing. That was an annoying habit he had. I knew my face was red but there was nothing I could do about that. Finally I shrugged and turned back to the table, and began polishing it. That's when he spoke.

  "It seems that you've remembered nothing from our conversation last night."

  I didn't answer, just kept scrubbing.

  "You have a lot to learn about discipline, young lady."

  Scrub scrub.

  "Forget the cleaning. Go back to Mrs Hauff. I don't want you in this tent again."

  My skin was burning. I picked up my gear and walked towards him. There was a problem when I got there though; Major Harvey was blocking the doorway and didn't look like he was going to move. And there was no way known that I was going to shove past him. So I stood and waited. After a minute he turned to one side and stood there, still with arms folded. That was obviously the only concession he was going to make, so I squeezed through the gap and out into the fresh air, without looking at him again.

  It was a relief to get back to Sharyn. She could be rough and bossy and bad-tempered, but I wasn't scared of her. She wasn't sinister.

  I didn't have time during the afternoon to write the application to go and retrieve Chris, and when I told Homer he said to leave it till the next day, when Harvey might have calmed down. So I went to the meeting instead.

  Major Harvey's meeting wasn't much like our meetings back in He'll. It consisted of Major Harvey making a long speech. The first part was about the threat to our country and the need for courage.

  "These are terrible times," he said. "Like many brave people before us, we find ourselves having to defend our shores, to protect what is rightfully ours, to safeguard our women and children."

  When he said that I felt my face going red again, from the chin up, like it only does when I'm really angry. It was the last straw. Obviously all the brave people he had in mind were male. I swallowed, then breathed out hard through my nose. Maybe it was another lesson in discipline for me. Major Harvey added a few words about patriotism, then went back into history a little.

  "Men like Winston Churchill changed the course of history. Of course I would not put myself in the same class as Winston Churchill. But I will do my best to lead you. You can be sure I will not let you down."

  He moved on to the second part of his speech, about military action. This was more the stuff I wanted to hear. I'd had enough housework.

  "We will shortly be striking another blow against the enemy," he announced. "I will be speaking to some of you later about the details. Captain Killen and I have identified a number of important strategic targets. As you know, we are very low on numbers and weapons and we are up against an enemy who is highly trained and well equipped. So we must proceed with the greatest care. Despite our manifold disadvantages, we have done
a lot of damage to enemy forces and made a contribution that is well out of proportion to the size of our gallant little band of Harvey's Heroes. We can indeed be proud of ourselves. As you know, two power stations and a number of vehicles have already fallen victim to our forces."

  Most of this, and a lot more of the same stuff, twenty minutes more in fact, was like the comments Major Harvey had made when we first arrived. It was hard for me to concentrate. I was getting hot flushes of deja vu that went even further back than our interview with the major, so I concentrated on trying to identify them. It took me five minutes, but at last I worked it out: I felt like I was back in a school assembly.

  Major Harvey moved on to the third and last part of his speech.

  "Once again I find myself paying tribute to Mrs Hauff and her band of helpers. The campsite continues to be maintained in immaculate condition and meals are served on time and beautifully presented. As Napoleon said, 'An army marches on its stomach,' and the present good morale of Harvey's Heroes is in no small measure due to Mrs Hauff's girls."

  Mrs Hauff's expression didn't change but I felt as though a wave of approval was slowly rippling through her large body. I continued to prickle. I hadn't seen any males doing housework. For two days I'd done little else, scrubbing pots and pans, washing sheets—no joke in cold water—and darning socks. The guys were occupied doing guy things—digging drains, collecting firewood, and making a small wooden cabin which was meant for Major Harvey's headquarters. The thing that puzzled me most was that everyone seemed so happy with these arrangements. Everyone except us five, anyway, and I wasn't at all sure about Homer. If we hadn't constantly bullied him back in Hell, he'd have had his slippers on every night and sat in front of the fire waiting to be served.

  "Finally," said Major Harvey, "we welcome our five new recruits. It's a pleasure to have some young people join us, and I'm sure they will soon get used to the discipline of a military operation. As I have said on a number of occasions' to the longer established members of Harvey's Heroes, 'When told to jump, your only question should be How high?"

  He beamed straight at me as he said this, as though it was a line he'd thought of himself. He seemed to be in a better mood, so I smiled weakly back.

  The meeting broke up and I walked off with a lady of about thirty, a plain-looking brown-haired woman, who always seemed tired and exasperated, no matter what she was doing. Her name was Olive. Sharyn watched us go, but didn't try to follow. I think she thought I was safe with Olive, but I decided to take a risk and say something irreverent.

  "I was trying to think what that meeting reminded me of," I said. "And I worked it out. It was like being back in a school assembly."

  She laughed, then looked around guiltily.

  "Do you know what Major Harvey did before the invasion?" she asked. "Is that why you said that?"

  "No. Isn't he a soldier?"

  She laughed again. "You must be joking. He was the Deputy at Risdon High School."

  "Oh!" I felt cheated. All this time I'd thought he was an Army superstar.

  "So where'd he get his military knowledge?" I asked.

  "What military knowledge? This outfit's as military as a bowling club. Harvey was in the Army Reserve for eighteen months. That's about it."

  "But all that talk about blowing up power stations and enemy vehicles?"

  "Talk, yeah, there's a lot of it going around."

  "So is that all it is? Talk?"

  She shrugged. "Well, they blew up two power stations, sure. One was the power grid for South Risdon and the other was the telephone exchange for Duckling Flat. There wouldn't have been an enemy soldier within ten kilometres at the time. They're neither of them nuclear reactors. One was the size of an outdoor dunny, and the other wasn't much bigger."

  "And the vehicles? What about the vehicles?"

  "The first one was a troop carrier that had broken down and been abandoned. They set fire to it. Gold medals all round. Their other vehicle attacks have been the same. They just look for disabled trucks, and cars that have been deserted, then they set fire to them."

  "I can't believe it." I really was shocked, and angry. All the risks we'd taken, all the damage we'd done, all the terrible things we'd been through, and all that time these fat little men, and the women in their lipstick and make-up, had sat around telling each other how good they were and getting fatter still on their self-congratulations. And the way Major Harvey spoke to me, as though I were a bit of dog-dropping on a new carpet. I'd done ten times more than he had! How dare they?

  I went off to find Robyn and Fi and tell them but they were with their minders. Then Sharyn saw me and" dragged me into the cooking area to peel potatoes. Peeling potatoes when you're angry is not a good idea. As I started my third spud I cut deep into my left thumb and bled heaps, which made me angrier still. Olive came and bandaged me: she'd told me that she was a nurse and she bandaged me as if she was. It was a neat job.

  Before I could talk to any of the others there was a sudden change in the atmosphere of the camp. Groups of men came past the washing-up area where I was teaching Sharyn to make a rack for draining dishes. Without a word she put down the pole she was holding and followed the men. I dropped my bits of wood and tagged along behind. No one was saving anything but there was an air of excitement, everyone leaning forward as they walked, as though that would get them there faster. I noticed that quite a few of the men were armed, carrying automatic rifles. They had much better weapons than we did.

  We assembled again in the area where we'd had our meeting earlier. Captain Killen got on the stump this time, to address us. I wondered what he'd been before the invasion: an accountant? There was no sign of Major Harvey.

  "Operation Phantom is ready to begin," he announced in his thin dry voice. I could hardly hear him, though I was only twenty-five metres away. "Although just a small number of men will be required for active service, others who wish to watch the operation may do so from a vantage point on the firebreak above the Cunnamulla road."

  Spectators!

  "How much will we have to pay for our tickets?" I wanted to ask. But I still had enough smarts to stay silent. I looked at Homer, trying to catch his eye, but he was gazing expressionlessly at Captain Killen, and refused to look around.

  "Operation Phantom will hit the enemy at his soft underbelly," Captain Killen continued. "We will wallop him where it hurts most. This will be the biggest operation ever undertaken by Harvey's Heroes, with the most important military target yet attacked. The following men have been selected to take part: Olsen, Allison, Babbage..."

  There were a dozen names altogether. Apparently that was Captain Killen's definition of a small group. Neither Homer nor Lee was among them, I was glad to hear. And there was no chance of Robyn or Fi or me being chosen. Girls didn't rate with Harvey's Heroes, except for cooking and cleaning. But I didn't hesitate when Sharyn asked me if I wanted to go and watch. It seemed quite comical to me, but Sharyn and the others weren't laughing: there was a serious and silent air through the camp as people made their preparations. Of course it was serious, I reminded myself angrily—any contact with the enemy was serious—but I just wished they'd stop acting like characters in an American war movie. Everything seemed so different to the way we'd done things. Our violent fights with the enemy were starting to seem like bad and impossible dreams; so much so that I was having trouble believing they had happened at all.

  There seemed to be no reason for spectators, except to make Captain Killen and the other heroes feel big and important. But that didn't bother me. I figured I could go and watch without having to accept these Guys as legends. So I joined the gang, hoping that Major Harvey wouldn't notice me there and stop me from going. There were about fifteen of us, including Fi and Robyn and Homer and Lee, but of course before we could leave we had to be given the Big Talking To by Captain Killen.

  "Now," he said, looking at us severely, as though we were going on a school excursion to a museum full of fine porcelain. "I wan
t it clearly understood that we are on active service. Those of you allowed to accompany us must understand that you are to obey orders instantly. You must stay quiet, not get in the way, and keep all conversation to a minimum. Remain under cover at all times. And you kids," meaning us, I realised with an angry flush, "you kids in particular, I don't want to hear a word out of you. Stay out of the way, and behave yourselves."

  I don't know what he expected, that we'd start playing hide and seek, or singing Girl Guide hiking songs. I didn't dare look at Homer this time. He must have been seconds away from meltdown.

  I was waiting for Major Harvey to appear but then the others started moving off, and I had to hurry to catch them. Only then did I realise that the Major wasn't coming. I was so angry I started grinding my teeth. I didn't trust myself to speak. Some leader! I despised him. All he could do was talk.

  The dozen guerillas were led by Captain Killen; they soon branched off and went down a dry creek bed that took them straight downhill.

  Our leader was a serious looking older man with glasses. His name was Terry. He didn't say a word, but he seemed to know his way around. He took us along a ridge through the trees. I hoped he knew the way well because it would be dark by the time we got back. I walked with Fi and her minder, Davina. Olive was just ahead of us, and Robyn at the rear with her tent-mate. Sharyn hadn't come. Physical exertion wasn't her scene. Homer and Lee were up the front, behind Terry.

  We walked for about an hour. I enjoyed it, once I got over my anger. I like the bush and I like being fit, and I was sick of hanging round the camp all day, with Sharyn as my main buddy. I had no sense of danger, so my mood wasn't spoilt by fear. Captain Killen had told us we'd be a long way from the action and after my conversation with Olive I was sure there'd be a minimum of contact with the enemy.