by Peter Watt
‘Well, I’ll be damned,’ Karl muttered, closing the paper.
It was pleasing to see that Megan had found someone after Lukas’s death – she deserved all the happiness in the world, Karl thought. When he looked up, Sarah was standing only feet away. His breath caught in this throat at the sight of her and he stood up to kiss her.
Townsville, Far North Queensland
Jack waved to the stock and station agent as he drove away from the little house on the outskirts of Townsville. The papers had been signed and the house was on the market. So, too, the plantations in Papua. All told, the sales would fetch a moderate amount for him to retire on.
Jack had already paid for a fare on a ship steaming to Europe. Now that his life was empty he wanted to return to all those old places from his past. He would visit France and Belgium, and walk the old battlefields of his youth. He would visit the cafes and bars in Paris, and remember a time when the Great War was drawing to a close and he drank with his mates to the permanent peace that surely had to follow such a terrible conflict. The war to end all wars, so they had said.
On his last visit to the doctor in town he had been warned that the sheer physical demands of being a soldier had taken a toll on his body. The doctor had put down his stethoscope and said with a grim expression, ‘Jack, you need a lot of rest to let your heart recover from the strain it has been under.’
It had not only been the physical but also the emotional strain that had affected Jack’s heart, he knew. But he wanted to make that pilgrimage. After that, he did not care what happened to him.
Jack walked up the steps to the verandah, and was surprised to hear the stock and station agent’s car returning. He turned and raised his hand over his eyes to gaze up the road where the car had gone, only to see that the approaching vehicle was in fact a taxi.
Jack stood on the verandah as the car pulled up in front of the rickety fence overgrown with a choko vine. The door opened and a young woman stepped out, a young man following her. She was dressed in an expensive skirt and blouse, and a large, stylish hat hid her face; the man wore an expensive dark suit and tie.
Jack frowned. Maybe buyers for the house, he thought. The taxi driver removed a leather suitcase from the boot and placed it beside the woman, who now lifted her head to gaze up at the verandah. Jack thought then that his heart would stop beating, just as his doctor had warned.
‘Ilsa!’ he heard himself gasp. He glanced at the tall young man. ‘Clark!’
Jack gripped the railing and then slowly made his way down the wooden steps until he was standing a few feet from the couple. No one said a word for a few moments.
Finally Ilsa broke the silence. ‘It has been a long time,’ she said. ‘I don’t even know what to call you.’
Clark stepped forward and extended his hand. Jack gripped it firmly.
‘Hello, Jack,’ Clark said. ‘It’s good to see that you made it through.’
‘It is good to see you both,’ Jack replied, still gripping the young American’s hand. He turned to Ilsa, who hung back slightly, as though afraid of how he might react. ‘It’s too late to call me Dad, so I’ll settle for you calling me Jack,’ he said. ‘Now, let’s get out of the sun and I’ll make us a cup of tea.’
‘Jack . . .’ Ilsa said and ceased speaking as the tears began to flow. ‘I don’t really know what to say to you.’
‘Maybe you could tell me that this larrikin Yank has made an honest woman of you,’ Jack replied gently.
‘No,’ Ilsa said, sniffing back tears. ‘I need a father to give me away first. His parents are a bit old-fashioned like that. I need you in my life but so many terrible things have happened . . . I wouldn’t blame you for holding me responsible for Lukas’s death.’
‘Lukas volunteered,’ Jack said. ‘If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine, but there’s no changing that now. You’re my daughter; apart from Karl, you’re all I have in the world. Let’s not waste any more time. You’re too precious to me for that.’
‘Oh, Jack,’ Ilsa said, the tears flowing uncontrollably as she flung herself into his arms. ‘You don’t know how much this means to me. You are the only family I have left.’
‘What about me?’ Clark protested in good humour.
‘And you will be,’ Ilsa said with a light laugh between sobs. ‘As soon as my father gives me away.’
Jack held the beautiful young woman in his arms. Maybe there was a God after all. His son had been taken from him but he’d been given a daughter, even if he barely knew her. He sensed, though, that they would like each other, that they shared something deep, something that would help them get through the weeks and months and years ahead. Jack smiled. For both of them the war was finally over.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
As the years pass since the end of World War II, many of our fascinating stories of courage, endurance and initiative are being forgotten.
I wrote this book to remind Australian readers of the forgotten people who helped change the course of our history. Not in the well-known campaigns such as Tobruk or Kokoda, but behind enemy lines in places like Timor, where the tiny 2/2 Independent Company held down a Japanese army with their guerrilla activities. Or the coastwatchers, who monitored Japanese movements in the Pacific and helped rescue stranded Allied personnel, often working alone with only a handful of loyal Pacific Islanders. Such men as Lieutenant Arthur Evans in the Solomons, who rescued a young American naval officer by the name of John Fitzgerald Kennedy when his torpedo boat was cut in two by a Japanese destroyer. How different would history be if JFK had not been rescued?
There were other men, such as Captain Jock McLaren, Major Rex Blow and Frank Holland, to mention only three of many who did similar work to our north. Some operations could have come straight from an action novel, such as the rescue of the Sultan of Ternate from Japanese confinement by Aussie soldiers WO Perry and Lieutenant Bosworth, or the experiences of the two hundred and fifty men sent to China to train members of the nationalist army there.
In the tradition of remembering the little-known heroes of World War II, I have placed the fictional character of Lukas Kelly in the employ of the United States Army Transportation Corps. They braved the same dangerous conditions as the military forces but received little credit when the war ended. In the same light, I placed Jack Kelly with the Papua Infantry Battalion, who fought alongside our own forces in the territories of Papua and New Guinea. They were greatly feared by the Japanese, who gave them the title of the green shadows out of respect for their deadly ability to strike hard and fast in the tropical rainforests. Many people are familiar with the work of the Fuzzy Wuzzy Angels, but not so many know about the men of the PIB. For information on the operations of the PIB, I was able to refer to James Sinclair’s book, To Find a Path: The Life and Times of the Royal Pacific Islands Regiment: Vol One, Boolarong Publications, 1990.
Ilsa Stahl is in the novel as a reminder of the courageous American women who worked as war correspondents on the front lines, witnessing and sharing much of the horror the combat troops endured. And let’s not forget our own women in the armed forces who served in Australia and overseas. Without their support in a wide variety of areas, from the Land Army to the Red Cross, from those labouring in factories to those keeping the home fires burning, the war in the Pacific could not have been won.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
The production of a novel always has a team behind it. In this case I would like to acknowledge publishing director Cate Paterson, my publisher Alexandra Nahlous, and her team of Samantha Bok and Julia Stiles. Their input was invaluable in the final outcome of this project. Thanks is extended to Louise Cornegé for her ongoing work in the publicity department.
Others in my life have influenced my writing year and, at a local level, I would like to continue my thanks to Kevin Jones OAM and his family. Also, thanks to Mick Prowse and Andrea, Jan Dean, Dr Louis Trichard and his wife, Christine, and to Kate Evans and Phil Scoope. Also thanks to Bill and Tatiana Moroney, along wi
th my local librarian, Fran McGuire, and also Tyrone and Kerry McKee, John and Isabel Millington, and my family in Tweed Heads and Hazelbrook. Not to forget my Kiwi double, Bruce Forsyth, who was born the same day as I was, on the other side of the Tasman.
A special thanks to Kristie Hildebrand for her ongoing administration of my Facebook site and to the one hundred and fifty-four members who have joined at time of press. Ongoing thanks to Peter and Kay Lowe for my website administration. Thanks to Jaroslav Zeravek in the Czech Republic, who has done such a great job on his translation of my books in his part of the world. It is rare for an author to actually know the person in another country who is responsible for translating all the books into another language.
A special thanks to my neighbour John Riggall, who, despite being a former federal member of parliament, proved he has a lot of other life skills, and who helped me construct my new office. And thanks to June, his wife, who gave him permission to work through the blazing summer, and torrential rains of autumn, to help me finish the project.
I would like to extend my thanks across the Pacific, to a few Yanks who do not believe, as American publishers state, that my books are ‘too Aussie’ for release there. The following people promote me as much as possible to their countrymen and women. They are Karen Bessey Pease in Maine; the members of the American Legion Post no. 87 in Manhattan, Montana; Jodie Harp Luneau, former Aussie girl who served with the US armed forces in Iraq; and Maureen Oblachiniski.
Ongoing thanks to Rod and Brett Hardy, who work towards the Frontier project appearing on screen.
Since the release of my last novel, the following wonderful people have passed from our ranks and I miss them.
My uncle, John Payne, who served Australia through the darkest days of World War II with the Royal Australian Navy, aboard such famous ships as the Vampire and Hobart. He was aboard the Vampire when it was sunk by Japanese aircraft in the Bay of Bengal, and on the Hobart during the Battle of the Coral Sea and when it was later torpedoed. Also, Irvin Rockman CBE, John Blackler APM and Mrs Charlotte Trichard in Africa. The world has lost some of its best with their passing.
I’d also like to give a reminder that my old mate Tony Park is out there somewhere between Africa and Australia, turning out great books. His latest release, African Dawn, is now in the bookshops, along with his many others. Also, Steve Horne’s novel The Devil’s Tears has my endorsement as a great read.
Continuing thanks to another author, my mate Simon Higgins, and his wonderful wife, Annie; his friendship is valued for his ideas and special humour.
But, above all, I would like to express my special thanks and love to Naomi, who keeps me on track with my writing.
Peter Watt has spent time as a soldier, articled clerk, prawn trawler deckhand, builder’s labourer, pipe layer, real estate salesman, private investigator, police sergeant and adviser to the Royal Papua New Guinea Constabulary. He speaks, reads and writes Vietnamese and Pidgin. He now lives at Maclean, on the Clarence River in northern New South Wales. Fishing and the vast open spaces of outback Queensland are his main interests in life.
Peter Watt can be contacted at www.peterwatt.com
Also by Peter Watt
Cry of the Curlew
Shadow of the Osprey
Flight of the Eagle
To Chase the Storm
To Touch the Clouds
To Ride the Wind
Papua
Eden
The Silent Frontier
The Stone Dragon
The Frozen Circle
Excerpts from emails sent to Peter Watt since his first novel was published:
‘I recently read and thoroughly enjoyed The Frozen Circle. This much-loved copy was passed on to me and I am now interested in reading more Peter Watt.’ Reader from Canada
‘My husband and I recently read The Silent Frontier and were enthralled. It is unusual that we both enjoy the same book.’ Reader from New Zealand
‘I have read Cry of the Curlew, Shadow of the Osprey, Flight of the Eagle, To Chase the Storm, To Touch the Clouds, Eden, The Silent Frontier, The Stone Dragon, The Frozen Circle and have just finished reading To Ride the Wind. Absolutely fantastic – everything else has to wait once I start to read your books, Peter. I am so looking forward to the next instalment of this saga – please bring Matthew home!’
‘I have just finished To Ride the Wind and am left holding my breath – when can we expect the sequel?? Please say there is one!!!’
‘Your books are the best read ever.’
‘Thank you for providing me with many hours of enjoyable reading. I have read all your books. I served with the RAAMC for twenty years so have particularly found the stories set around military conflicts interesting and enjoyable. Your descriptions of early Australia are great and the thread about Wallarie is very touching.’
‘I greatly enjoyed your novel To Ride the Wind. However I am now looking forward to the completion of the overall story. Can you please advise when you will be publishing the next novel in the series? To put me out of my misery?’
‘Have just finished reading To Ride the Wind. Absolutely brilliant. The story just keeps getting better and better. I have read all eleven books and I believe anyone who has not, has missed out on something magic.’
‘Just thought I’d let you know how much I enjoyed To Ride the Wind. Thank you for bringing to life part of Australia’s history.’
‘I have to say I am now a big fan of yours. I have fallen in love with these characters.’ Reader from Vietnam
‘I must say you have completely got me hooked on the Duffy–Macintosh saga. From the first book, Cry of the Curlew, it’s apparent that I can’t stop now.’ Reader from the UK
‘I’ve done it again. Every year I buy myself an early Christmas present – your latest novel – so I can have a good read over the holiday period. Once again the temptation to have a sneak look at your latest To Ride the Wind got the better of me and once started I couldn’t put it down. Write faster. Your novels are rather addictive.’
‘May I commend you on your writing style, for writing a bloody good yarn and either your knowledge of NQ or your research on NQ.’
‘I have just finished reading your latest offering To Ride the Wind and felt compelled to contact you. Although I can hardly compete with the eloquence of other emails sent to you on your wonderful books, I wanted to share how special your books have been in the life of my family and understanding its history. I can assure you that your goal of putting a human face on Australian history has certainly been achieved in my case.’
‘I am so totally enthralled by your books.’
‘I just want to say thank you for a great read. I have read every one from Cry of the Curlew to Ride the Wind. I have enjoyed each one immensely.’
‘Thank you sooooo much for To Ride the Wind. I wanted to write long before I finished reading the book but persuaded myself to wait, not an easy thing to do. You have given me such pleasure! The last few chapters were read with a lump in my throat, and that lump goes right back to Sean Duffy thinking “If hell had a French name it must be Fromelles!”.’
‘I’m sure hundreds of folk contact you to say how much they have enjoyed your books and I am happy to join them. I always loved Wilbur Smith but it’s wonderful to read about the birth of our own nation.’
‘I enjoy these books so much that I can lose myself in them.’
‘I haven’t read a novel in twelve years but I just read Papua and Eden and I could not put them down. The stories were brilliant and I think I’m hooked.’
‘I just wanted to tell you that I just finished The Frozen Circle. I could not put it down!!!’ Reader from the USA
Peter Watt
Cry of the Curlew
I will tell you a story about two whitefella families who believed in the ancestor spirits. One family was called Macintosh and the other family was called Duffy . . .
Squatter Donald Macintosh little realises what chain of events he is setti
ng in motion when he orders the violent dispersal of the Nerambura tribe on his property, Glen View. Unwitting witnesses to the barbaric exercise are bullock teamsters Patrick Duffy and his son Tom.
Meanwhile, in thriving Sydney Town, Michael Duffy and Fiona Macintosh are completely unaware of the cataclysmic events overtaking their fathers in the colony of Queensland. They have caught each other’s eye during an outing to Manly Village. A storm during the ferry trip home is but a small portent of what is to follow . . . From this day forward, the Duffys and the Macintoshes are inextricably linked. Their paths cross in love, death and revenge as both families fight to tame the wild frontier of Australia’s north country.
Spanning the middle years of the nineteenth century, Cry of the Curlew is a groundbreaking novel of Australian history. Confronting, erotic, graphic, but above all, a compelling adventure, Peter Watt is an exceptional new talent.
Peter Watt
Shadow of the Osprey
On a Yankee clipper bound for Sydney Harbour the mysterious Michael O’Flynn is watched closely by a man working undercover for Her Majesty’s government. O’Flynn has a dangerous mission to undertake . . . and old scores to settle.
Twelve years have passed since the murderous event which inextricably linked the destinies of two families, the Macintoshes and the Duffys. The curse which lingers after the violent 1862 dispersal of the Nerambura tribe has created passions which divide them in hate and join them in forbidden love.