After the briefing the OC and CUOs walked away and CSM Cleland ordered the sergeants to ‘carry on’. As the cadets in 1 Platoon stood to move off there was a chorus of comments. These were a mixture of amazement and disgust. CSM Cleland called, “What’s going on in One Platoon?”
“Carnes has pissed himself!” Cadet ‘Puddles’ Rundle cried.
“You’d know all about that,” added Cadet Grey from 1 Section. Puddles was a notorious bed-wetter.
Graham turned and looked. The front of Carnes’ trousers was soaked. Carnes hung his head, a look of utter misery on his face. ‘Poor bugger!’ Graham thought. He knew what had happened. Like himself Carnes had gone down into the gully to have a pee but had been caught by the bullies and had not done it. Then he had been unable to hold it any longer.
Above the babble of comments and jeering cries cut CSM Cleland’s voice. “Silence in the ranks! Sergeant Sherry, move them away without all this talking. And stop the teasing.”
The noise dropped immediately. Graham looked at CSM Cleland with admiration. The CSM was a stocky Year 12. He looked tough and had a reputation for being hard on people who gave trouble. It took only one more warning from him to ensure complete silence except for the commands of the sergeants. Graham knew that the CSM, although lower in rank than the CUOs, was the cadet with the most responsible and powerful position in the company. The job needed a tough person and Cleland certainly looked tough as he stood there with his hands on his hips in the swirling dust.
Having run foul of CSM Cleland several times Graham had no desire to incur his displeasure again so he screwed his head around and glared at his section to keep them silent. When it was their turn to move Graham added ‘Keep quiet!’ as they stood. Sgt Grenfell then marched them back to their platoon area. This was on the south side of the ridge beyond HQ and the officer’s area. 2 Platoon was to bivouac among a stand of tall, thin gum trees. As usual the corporals were at the front of the platoon as it marched. This put Cpl Gwen Copeland on Graham’s left and his friend Cpl Stephen Bell beyond her.
As soon as the section was fallen out after returning to its area Graham said, “OK, carry on putting up your hutchies.” He then walked over to where he and Roger were erecting theirs. The cadets did not have tents but were issued with the camouflaged plastic sheets named ‘Shelters, Individual’. These were put up by clipping two together along one edge, then tying cord from the joins to two trees and then pegging down the four corners. The result was nicknamed a ‘hootchie’ or ‘hutchie’ by the cadets. As they set to work Kirsty smiled at Graham and cooed. “Will you help me put up my shelter Graham?” she asked.
The use of his first name annoyed Graham and he knew he should correct her and insist on her calling him by his rank. However he decided not to. ‘I will tell her not to later so she isn’t embarrassed,’ he thought, then despised himself for being a weakling. “Who are you sharing with?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” Kirsty replied.
“Who would you like to share with?” Graham asked.
“You,” Kirsty answered cheekily.
Graham could not believe his ears. He heard the others snicker and blushed. “You can’t. Unit policy is that only people of the same sex can share a hutchie. You will have to share with the other girls.”
Kirsty made a face. “Oh poo! I don’t like girls. Besides, there are three of us.”
That was a problem. There were eight cadets in the section, including three girls. Graham and Roger, having been mates for years had automatically paired off and so had Pat Sheehan and Gary Andrews.Dianne Williams and Lucy Hind were also together. That left one boy and one girl: Jack Halyday and Kirsty.
Kirsty glanced at Halyday and wrinkled her nose. “I don’t want to share with him! Besides, you said boys and girls can’t share.”
“You could go in with the other girls,” Graham suggested, looking hopefully at them. The frozen smiles on their faces indicated they were not keen on this idea. Kirsty looked at them hopefully but Dianne shook her head. “Be too crowded,” she said.
“Kirsty smells anyway,” Halyday commented.
“Shut up Halyday!” Kirsty retorted. She and Halyday were both in the same Year 8 class and often made barbed comments to each other.
“You will have to hutchie up on your own then,” Graham suggested.
Kirsty nodded. “I will do that.”
Graham looked around for two trees she could use. The nearest were almost in line with his own hutchie and a few metres off. “What about these?” he suggested, walking over to them.
Kirsty again nodded. Graham added, “You will only have one side, a lean-to. That won’t give you much privacy.”
“That will be alright,” Kirsty replied, giving Graham what he took to be a meaningful look.
That unsettled him some more. ‘Is she giving me the “come on”?’ he wondered.
As he turned to go Kirsty asked, “Will you help me put it up please?”
Graham didn’t want to encourage her but she smiled so appealingly that he gave in. “Oh alright!” he answered.
For the next ten minutes he helped teach her how to tie a slip knot and then put up the hutchie. As she was fumbling to tie the knot at one end he reached forward in exasperation to take the cord from her. In doing so their hands touched. He instantly pulled back but their eyes met. ‘Heavens! They are pretty eyes,’ he thought. For the first time he noted tiny flecks of gold in the blue of her irises. For a long moment they held each others gaze. She smiled and Graham felt his heart rate shoot up.
Then he looked down in flustered amazement. ‘Maybe?’ he thought. ‘I might be in luck here.’ Then he shook his head. ‘Don’t be silly boy! Be strong!’ But Oh! What a temptation!
CHAPTER 2
FIRST TESTS
By the time the sun began to go down Graham was in a state of indecision he found very unsettling. Doubts and hopes warred with each other. The result was a nagging feeling of dissatisfaction and uneasiness. ‘Damn!’ he thought. ‘I really wanted to enjoy this camp.’
Until the company had arrived in the field training area at Bunyip River he had been enjoying it. It was already the end of the second day of a nine day annual camp and he did not want to think about how soon it would all be over. The unit came from Cairns and had travelled to Townsville in coaches the previous morning. The afternoon had been spent at Lavarack Barracks doing weapon training with the Steyr rifle, something Graham had really enjoyed. The cadets had then been given the opportunity to practise in the electronic range, the Weapon Training Simulator. Graham had done very well at this, his shooting being only bettered by Capt Conkey and CSM Cleland.
The previous night had been spent in the barracks, allowing them a taste of army life which Graham had found very enjoyable as he was seriously beginning to consider an army career when he left school. That morning the cadets had been put over the obstacle course by army instructors and had then gone to the range to actually fire live ammunition from the Steyr. Once again Graham had gained an excellent score, being third best shot, beaten by Sgt Grenfell and CSM Cleland.
Graham didn’t particularly mind that as he respected and admired both. ‘Anyway,’ he consoled himself, ‘Capt Conkey has always said that the CSM should be the best soldier in the company.’
It was only when they had arrived in the bush a few hours earlier that life seemed to become complicated. It wasn’t the roughing it he minded. That was something he loved. With his friends Roger, Stephen and Peter he spent nearly every second weekend in the bush on hikes. The friends did this so often they called themselves ‘The Hiking Team’. However some of the new cadets plainly found the conditions a bit of a shock.
Once the camp was set up the corporals and CUOs were called to HQ Platoon to be issued with radios. This was done by Peter Bronsky, the signals corporal and Graham’s friend. The radios were small hand-held ‘Citizen Band’ UHF radios with a range of about 3 or 4 kilometres and powered by three AA batteries. Each CUO and
NCO got the same radio issued all year and Graham signed for his and looped the light green cord around his neck and hung the radio on his shirt. Then he did a radio check which Peter answered. The unit also had half a dozen army radios and seven larger CB pack radios for safety and control.
The evening meal had been routine; a hot, fresh meal prepared by army cooks in the kitchen of the small army camp located a kilometre away on the other side of the highway. This was delivered by army Land Rover in ‘hot boxes’. The platoons had filed past one at a time to get their food. The food was ladled into their mess tins. After that the cadets had seated themselves on the ground in platoon areas to eat. There had been no problem with that as the weather was fine and likely to remain so. In this part of North Queensland in September rain was a rarity. The weather was usually dry and fairly hot (Fairly being a relative term, as they came from Cairns, which was even closer to the equator than where they now. To them temperatures of 30 degrees C were not considered anything unusual).
The place was familiar to Graham as he had done a ten day promotion course at the Bunyip River Army Camp the previous December. Part of this course had included navigation exercises during which he had walked through the area they were now bivouacked in. Thus, as he prepared his section for a night navigation exercise, he at least had no worries about getting lost.
It quickly became apparent that some of his cadets were feeling a bit stressed. The first real sign was when Cadet Andrews mumbled that he was feeling sick. “It must be the heat,” he moaned. “Can I stay here?”
“No,” Graham replied.
“But I’m sick,” Andrews moaned.
That threw Graham a bit. He did not want to lose members of his section from any activity so he cast around for some convincing argument. Finding none he could only suggest that Andrews go and see Sgt Grenfell. To his surprise Dianne then said she wasn’t feeling very well either.
Both were taken to Sgt Grenfell who questioned them. Only then did it begin to dawn on Graham that the real problem was that it was getting dark and they were in the bush. Sgt Grenfell wasn’t very sympathetic but commented in a scornful voice that if they wanted to they could go to see the officers, “if you really are sick.”
Neither did. It was when they were walking back to the section area in the gathering dusk that Graham noted Dianne glancing anxiously from side to side.
“What’s wrong?”he asked as gently as he could.
“I... it... I... it’s very dark isn’t it,” Dianne replied.
They were back at the hutchies by then and Graham looked around in the gloom. He could see quite well and several torches were flickering around the area. “It will be alright. The moon will come up later,” he said. But he said it without conviction as he wasn’t sure what time moonrise was.
“But there are no lights,” Dianne wailed.
Graham realised that Kirsty had moved to stand close beside him. “You don’t need lights,” he said, trying to sound confident. “Your eyes will adjust to the dark as you get your night vision.”
“But we are miles from anywhere!” Andrews cried.
“We are not!” Graham replied. He pointed to where several lights could be seen through the trees. “The army camp is just over there.”
As he said this a car went past along the Flinders Highway, its headlights flickering through the trees. “And there is the main road,” he added.
“But what if we stand on a snake?” Lucy asked.
Now that got him. The mention of snakes brought to the surface of Graham’s consciousness his one great fear. Three years earlier he had been bitten by a King Brown and it had left him very scared of the reptiles. He had no idea what types of snakes lived in this dry country but that only added to his uncertainty.
He was saved by a crude comment by Halyday. “The only sort of snakes you need to worry about,” Halyday said to Lucy, “are one-eyed trouser snakes.”
“Don’t be crude Cadet Halyday!” Graham snapped, his own fear adding to his growing irritation.
“But what if we get lost?” Andrews persisted.
That again saved Graham. If there was one thing he really prided himself on it was his navigation in the bush. “We won’t,” he snapped. “I’ve been here before and I know where to go. Just stick close to me.”
As he said this he felt Kirsty gently touch his side and arm. He wasn’t sure if it was an accident, a joke, or a ‘come on’. This time he was saved by CSM Cleland. The CSM was over near the big tree and began calling loudly for the platoons to move in. Sgt Grenfell at once called on the platoon to form up. To Graham’s relief Kirsty moved away.
“Make sure you have your webbing,” he called as he hurried to his own hutchie. Now he began to fluster. All the time spent with Andrews and Williams meant he was not ready. For one thing he had not refilled all his waterbottles. A quick check showed he had one full one. ‘It will have to do,’ he decided. As quickly as he could, and spurred on by Sgt Grenfell’s calls to form up, he made sure had all the things he needed: compass, protractor, pencil, map, torch. In his haste he kept catching himself on things and became all hot and sweaty. ‘Oh strewth! I hope I have everything,’ he thought as he hurried back to where the platoon was starting to assemble.
“Hurry up Four Section!” he called, noting that only Roger and Pat had so far arrived. Next to them stood all of Gwen Copeland’s Number 5 Section. Up till then Graham had considered he was lucky to have good kids in his section; no real trouble makers, but now he wasn’t so sure. “Hurry up Cadet Halyday!” he shouted angrily.
Kirsty, Lucy and Dianne joined them but Halyday and Andrews were still in their hutchie. Sgt Grenfell called to ask if all of Graham’s section were there. “Not yet sergeant,” Graham replied, blushing hot with annoyance and shame.
“What about you Five Section?” Sgt Grenfell asked Gwen.
“All here sergeant.”
“Cpl Bell?”
Stephen replied that all of 6 Section were there. That made Graham even more agitated. It also made him worry that his section might get a bad reputation. He shouted angrily to Halyday and Andrews. “Get here! Now!”
“I haven’t filled my waterbottles,” Andrews cried.
“Tough! You had plenty of time. Form up,” Graham snapped. Even as he said this he knew it was the wrong answer. Andrews could easily get heat exhaustion, even at night, if he was dehydrated from the day. The air temperature was still quite high. The dilemma made Graham angry with himself for not checking earlier.
With some muttering and grumbling Andrews and Halyday joined them. “All here now sergeant,” Graham reported.
“About bloody time! I hope you weren’t aiming to win ‘Best Section’ in the section competition this year,” Sgt Grenfell retorted. Graham found that a very worrying and hurtful comment but could only silently fume. ‘I’d better get this mob better organized,’ he told himself.
The platoon was marched over to where the company was being seated in section lines. With a hundred and twenty cadets all milling around in the dark it seemed like bedlam but CSM Cleland used his voice and authority to quickly impose order, calling the platoons one at a time and directing the sergeants where to seat their people. That done he did a check on who was present.
During that Graham discovered that all the other platoons had one or two ‘sick’ who had been sent to where the officers had a fire. That made him feel better but also raised his anxiety lest one of his cadets even now opt to go there. To his relief none did. CSM Cleland handed over to Capt Conkey, who then sent the CUOs and sergeants over to the fire. They were to provide the check points and were to be briefed by the unit 2ic, Lt Mel Maclaren.
After another safety brief, during which the cadets squirmed and fidgeted a lot, Capt Conkey began to give detailed instructions for the night navex. Graham took out his map, notebook and pencil. Then he dug out a pocket torch and turned to the cadet behind him. “Hold this torch for me,” he whispered.
It was Kirsty. She turne
d it on then moved to lean over his shoulder to shine the torch beam on his notebook. In doing so she pressed herself against him. ‘That has got to be deliberate,’ Graham told himself as he tried to concentrate on what Capt Conkey was saying.
As the whole unit had been given a briefing on sexual harassment and related subjects only the previous afternoon he knew that Kirsty was not acting out of ignorance. Her behaviour annoyed him but he was also disturbed by it. To his added annoyance he started to get aroused.
‘I hope Capt Conkey doesn’t notice Kirsty leaning on me,’ he thought anxiously. That would do his promotion chances no good at all, and having determined to try to make sergeant at the end of the year, it made him worry. But it was hard to keep his mind on the job!
Capt Conkey gave each corporal a different Grid Reference to go to on their first leg. The section commanders then had to work out the magnetic compass bearing and calculate the distance in paces. As he started working these out an idea came to Graham. “Cadet Andrews, go and fill your waterbottles while I do this,” he said.
It took him only seven minutes to do the calculation. Kirsty helped by kneeling beside him to hold the torch. As soon as he had the bearing and distance worked out Graham went to Capt Conkey to let him check it. He noted that he was the second corporal to finish the calculation. Only his friend Peter had beaten him. ‘That’s Ok,’ he told himself. ‘Pete’s a brain.’
“Very good Cpl Kirk,” Capt Conkey complimented him. The praise made Graham glow and he felt good. If there was one person on earth he wanted to impress it was Capt Conkey. ‘I owe that man a lot,’ he reminded himself.
As he moved away Graham found his path blocked by Cpl Bannister from 4 Platoon. “Bloody sniveller!” Bannister hissed. “Always sucking up to the officers.”
The Cadet Corporal Page 2