The Cadet Under-Officer

by Christopher Cummings

  Bargheese was not having a good time either. During the short drive back to the mine he had considered whether he shouldn’t start his run now. ‘I’ve got one of my passports and there were a few thousand dollars in various currencies in the briefcase,’ he thought. But he knew he would need more than that and he would be easy to track! ‘I need that brown notebook!’ he told himself. ‘I must risk staying to find it.’

  He had Jake wake Amos while he went to the office. Vyajana was asleep on a stretcher beside the radio. Bargheese telephoned the manager’s house and stood waiting, listening to the dial tone. It went on, and on, and on. Was the man out with his wife at a social function? Hardly likely at twenty to one in the morning. Had he done what Bargheese had just considered and gotten going while he had the chance? With a sinking feeling of suspicion Bargheese put down the phone. He lit a cigarette and waited.

  When Amos arrived Bargheese cut short his grumbles with curt orders. Amos was given the woman’s description and the details of her car and was sent out into the night to find out if any of the lookouts had seen it. That would help narrow the search. Bargheese then had Jake drive him back to the airfield. He was now very tired and short-tempered. Jake again offered to question the woman but Bargheese doubted if such methods would work. ‘She is very stubborn. More might be gained by trickery with apparently innocent questions,’ he decided.

  ***

  When Bargheese returned to the shed Sandra braced herself for the worst but instead found herself subjected to a rapid series of questions about herself and her ordinary life. She made no reply but knew that the Indian was watching her eyes to see the reaction of her irises and it annoyed her that he seemed to be getting answers. To stop such involuntary responses she tried hard to control her face and eye muscles but she knew she wasn’t doing very well. Then she closed her eyes and at once got a stinging slap.

  It jerked her eyes open but she gritted her teeth and shut them again and endured a series of slaps which knocked her on her side. Her face burned and stung and her ears rang. The slapping stopped and she became aware of the men arguing violently. Mick was objecting strongly and was again told to keep out of it.

  Bargheese tried again. This time he used a pin, digging it unexpectedly into her, causing little darts of intense pain which made her cry out but not answer. He asked her all the questions again - where was the girl hiding? Who else was involved? Where were the rest of the things from the briefcase? Where was the brown notebook?

  That gave Sandra heart and she even managed a tight-lipped smile which got her a punch on the nose. Blood trickled down her face and again Mick protested. ‘Well!’ she thought, ‘Bargheese is a worried man alright. He wants that brown notebook! He will kill to get it!’ She blacked out.

  ***

  Bargheese looked at his watch. It was twenty-five past one. He swore. “Come and search the car, Murphy! Keep an eye on her, Evans!”

  They searched the car from end to end; pulled out the seats, the door linings, looked underneath and in every compartment. It yielded nothing after nearly 45 minutes. Bargheese stood in the darkness and swore. Again he considered flight. Again he rejected it. ‘Tomorrow - when I have the brown notebook.’ And it would be flight, literally. ‘I will fly out in the plane bringing in that last batch of illegals!’

  A check with the pin showed the woman was unconscious, not just shamming. Bargheese could think of nothing else to do till Amos returned and he was exhausted. He realized he needed a sleep to keep his head clear. ‘If I don’t keep thinking straight I am doomed.’ He said: “Evans, you stay on guard. Murphy, drive me back to the office. Then come back and take turns at guarding her. I’ll be back in the morning.”

  Back at the office Bargheese again tried to phone the manager. 2:30am – and still not home? He gave up and went to his quarters and within ten minutes was asleep

  CHAPTER 21

  THE COMPANY ROLL

  Roger shook Graham awake at 0600. The CUO groaned and stretched, slowly easing his sore muscles. He pushed the groundsheet off him and looked up at his friend in the half light.

  Roger smiled. “Sorry to wake you old son but we have to move in an hour and half.”

  “That’s OK,” Graham replied. He sat up and yawned. As he did he noted that the fog had gone and that the weather was quite mild. He took off his pullover straight away. “Everyone here? No gear missing? Anyone sick?”

  “Corporals haven’t reported yet. I’ll let you know in a couple of minutes,” Roger said.

  “Elizabeth OK?”

  Roger nodded. “I can see Cpl Lake talking to her now.”

  “Miss McEwen back?”

  “No, not yet.”

  That caused Graham some concern. ‘Obviously she didn’t see the OC,’ he thought. ‘So she has driven to Townsville.’ He comforted himself with the thought that she had said she might not be back till mid-morning. ‘She will need to find the right people, convince them, then wait while they get organized.’ From his limited knowledge of government departments Graham could imagine the delays.

  Quickly he changed back into his damp clothes inside his sleeping bag. Then he pulled on his boots and laced them up, then rolled up his bedding and put it in his pack. He then did a check: map, compass, matches, notebook, watch, toilet roll, pistol, brown notebook

  Roger reported back that all the cadets were present and none so sick they wanted to drop out. “Only a couple of blisters and an upset stomach; Cadet Woodhouse.”

  The radio crackled and Cadet Hodgins answered it, then passed the handset to Roger who spoke into it. Graham lit his stove and put water on to heat. “What do they want Roger?”

  “CQMS reminding us to collect rations when we come down this morning.”

  Graham nodded, then walked around to see each cadet and to say hello. Most were on good spirits. Livingstone looked a bit bleary eyed and down at the mouth. His mate, long-legged Cadet Tully, was cheerfully ribbing him. “Says you can’t walk on water sir. That it was only a rumour you’ve been spreading.”

  Graham laughed. Livingstone chipped in with his dry voice: “Wish I’d been bloody able to. Gawd I was bloody cold last night.”

  Tully teased some more, two skilful darts: “Come on mate. At least it was only ankle deep. You’d have been real wet otherwise.”

  Graham had to laugh. He walked over to the next group feeling better. A few minutes later he came to where Elizabeth was having her bruises and scratches doctored by Margaret. By chance he arrived at a bad moment as Elizabeth had her shirt unbuttoned and it hung half open. Graham glimpsed the soft, white swelling of her breasts.

  ‘God, they’re nice!’ he thought. He experienced a swift surge of desire but blushed and looked away. Elizabeth hastily did the shirt up. Margaret pursed her lips and set to work on Elizabeth’s foot. Graham saw that in places the wounds were still red but there was no puss and they appeared to be healing well. There was a blister on Elizabeth’s heel which received a bandaid. Graham crouched to ask her how she was.

  Margaret snapped an answer for her: “She’s alright CUO Kirk. She’ll be as good as new in a day or so.”

  Graham looked at Margaret, surprised by her tone. To cover his confusion he asked Elizabeth: “Are you enjoying it Elizabeth?”

  Even as he spoke he felt foolish for asking such a question as even a glance showed the answer.

  Elizabeth shook her head. “No. I don’t like the bush. I will be glad when it is all over.”

  “Should be only a few more hours with luck,” Graham said. He met Margaret’s eyes and she nodded agreement.

  Margaret felt hot and cold all at once. She regretted speaking so sharply but couldn’t help herself. ‘Stupid girl!’ she thought angrily. ‘I’d like to kick her fat backside.’ She was sure that if she had been in Elizabeth’s place she would have easily evaded those men once she was in the bush. ‘I’d have rolled in some mud or cow poo to hide that white blouse,’ she told herself. She was confident she could then have walked to s
afety through the bush. Cadets had given her that self-assurance.

  Hodgins came over. “’Scuse me sir, but Sgt Dunning says I am to tell you that your coffee water is boiling and is now ankle deep.” The sig kept a straight face as he said it. Graham stood up and walked back to where Roger sat on his pack grinning.

  “Made you some coffee,” Roger said, handing him a cup.

  “Bloody river!” Graham said with a laugh, “did I go splash!” He related his own version of the night walk while eating and trying to dry his damp boots. Then he heated more water and had a shave. It was after 0700 by this and he called on the corporals to hurry their people.

  “Roger, I’ll go on ahead with Hodgins to be at the company ‘O’ Group on time. You have the platoon moving from here by seven forty. Make sure nothing is lost and that there is no litter. When you get down to Company HQ turn right. There’s a track there which takes you down to the Canning just opposite the mouth of Dingo Creek. Put the platoon under the trees there and organize a work party to collect rations and water. I don’t want you near the ‘First Years’ in case someone sees Elizabeth.”

  Graham finished shaving and packed everything, then stood and looked around, sweating slightly in the morning sunlight. He could see ‘Canning Park’ homestead quite clearly. There was a man with a dog in the yard. In the distance was the white utility parked on the bare rise where the Canning Road turned north. In the far distance Whaleback Hill and several smaller hills stuck up sharply above the horizon.

  ‘That’s where the mongrels lurk!’ he thought. As he studied the distant hills he heard a faint murmur in the air. ‘That damned helicopter.’ He saw it as a tiny speck which grew rapidly larger. As it got closer so did his apprehension but it flew past half a kilometre off and landed on Bare Ridge. A vehicle started up down at the Canning Junction and drove in that direction trailing a plume of dust. Graham noted it was a NORMAC Landcruiser. The sight of it made his heart rate increase and he wiped sweat off his upper lip. He felt a prickling sense of unease.

  A glance at his watch showed him it was 0720. ‘Time I was moving.’ “You ready Hodgins? You OK Roger?” he asked as he swung n his webbing. They replied in the affirmative so he picked up his pack by the top strap. Hodgins did likewise. “Don’t put on your pack yet Cadet Hodgins. We have to get under that fence there,” he explained.

  Graham and the sig walked down through Cpl Sheehan’s section, shoved their packs under the bottom strand of barbed wire and rolled under, carefully avoiding the many burrs.

  “Look sir,” Hodgins said. He was holding the tail fins of a mortar bomb.

  “Yeah. Capt Conkey said this used to be a live firing range during the Second World War. There are lots of those around here. Now put it down and don’t pick those sorts of things up; and keep your eyes open for unexploded bombs,” Graham replied, annoyed that Hodgins had picked the thing up because they had all been briefed on the dangers of unexploded ordnance.

  They hoisted on their packs and set off down the hill. There was no breeze and they were soon sweating in the heat. Graham’s muscles were very stiff till they warmed up. Their route took them around the top of a steep little re-entrant and down across a barren waste of rocks and brown grass, with scattering of thorn bushes. As they walked across the hillside Graham heard the helicopter start up. His flesh prickling with anxiety he looked over his left shoulder and saw it lift off from Bare Ridge. To his relief it headed towards Charters Towers, Towers Hill being just visible in the distance till they went down below the tree canopy.

  A couple of minutes later the NORMAC Landcruiser went rattling past along the dirt track to the junction. Falls was driving and he did not even notice the two cadets. Graham gave a wry smile and walked on, wondering what sort of reception he was going to get, and prepared for the worst.

  Five minutes later they reached the tents of Company HQ. Falls was there talking to Berzinski, the hard looking man with the crew cut. The two men leaned on the bonnet of the Landcruiser studying a map. As Graham arrived Falls gave him a casual look but said nothing.

  Capt Conkey appeared. “Hello there 4 Platoon. How are things?” he asked in a cheerful voice. From his look and tone Graham instantly deduced that Miss McEwen had not spoken to him. ‘I will try to get him aside in a minute,’ he thought.

  Capt Conkey greeted the other CUOs with cheerful hellos and jollied them all over to where the Company O Group was assembling in the shade of a tree. Falls and Berzinski walked over to join them. ‘At least that horrible Bargheese bugger isn’t here,’ Graham thought.

  As Graham sat down Stephen greeted him. “Didn’t know there was any water on Black Knoll,” he commented.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You look like you’ve been rolling in the mud,” Stephen replied. “I don’t know! Poor dress standards in some platoons eh Gwen?”

  Gwen Copeland, CUO commanding 2 Platoon, laughed. “Have to get the CSM to advise some officers on how to set a good example.”

  Barbara looked up from her notebook and smiled. Graham grinned but said nothing. He liked Barbara, well... a lot really, and he admired her ability as well as her looks. She smiled back. “He did at least polish his boots,” she said, rising to his defence.

  Capt Conkey cut the banter off. “Where is Lt McEwen CUO Kirk? Is she coming?”

  Graham didn’t want to lie but had to and it bothered him. He was very conscious of the two security men just behind him. “She drove back to camp a little while ago sir. She said she had to get something from the QM. She said not to wait for her.”

  Capt Conkey frowned. “Hmm. She could have told me. Never mind, I will tell her later.” He spoke louder to the whole group: “We will start. Mr Falls here has some news so get seated.”

  The Company Orders Group arranged itself in its usual order:- the four platoon commanders and CSM in the front row with the CQMS, HQ Sergeant, Intelligence Corporal, Signals Corporal and Medic Corporal behind. Lt Maclaren and Mrs Standish sat at the back.

  Falls moved to the front. “I have just been up to speak to Mr Bargheese and he says there have some new developments during the night. The girl’s parents have arrived and the police are now changing their plan. They are worried about this girl’s safety and are going to organize a wider search. They have withdrawn their roadblocks. NORMAC has agreed to this. We are more concerned for the girl’s well-being than over a minor theft,” he said.

  ‘He even said that as though he was sincere,’ Graham thought.

  Falls went on: “We still believe she is somewhere in this area- probably injured. She will be very hungry and scared. I would now like to thank you for your help and co-operation.”

  Capt Conkey moved to take over. As he did a radio crackled and a signaller called from the next tent: “Four Platoon moving in now sir.”

  Graham looked up. Coming across the flat through the thorn bushes in ‘One up’, each section in ‘Arrowhead’ formation, was his platoon. They were well spaced- 25 metres between people- and to his eyes they looked good. ‘They look like real soldiers,’ he thought proudly. ‘And they are on time too,’ he noted.

  Capt Conkey handed out maps with search areas for each platoon marked on them and detailed how the search was to be carried out. As he did Graham watched his platoon change to ‘single file’ on the move, to head down the track towards the Canning. All were camouflaged and looked like soldiers. Even though he knew where to look Graham had trouble picking out Elizabeth. It was only by her sandshoes that he could tell.

  Graham then studied the search plan. For his platoon it was simple. They were search up Dingo Creek and along the north bank of the Bunyip as far as the new bivouac site, about two kilometres. The search would go on till 1200. After lunch the normal training program would resume. For 4 Platoon that involved them in setting up a patrol circuit to be used by the ‘First Years’ the next day.

  Capt Conkey added: “Also the CSM will be moving with Four Platoon.” He met Graham’s worried eye and explain
ed. “She had a work party re-cut the track through the rubber vines this morning. She will guide you through and also show you where the vehicles will come to with water and for medical evacuation.”

  “Is it the same place as last year sir?” Graham asked. He had been the CSM the previous year and knew the area well. And he did not want anyone else joining the platoon, not even Barbara.

  “Yes it is,” Capt Conkey said.

  “I know the way then sir. The CSM doesn’t have to come if she doesn’t want to.”

  “I do,” Barbara replied. “I want to site latrines and check the area before the other platoons arrive.”

  Graham swore under his breath but nodded. There was no reason he could think of why this shouldn’t happen and under normal circumstances he would have been happy to have Barbara along. He looked up and she caught his eye and smiled. He forced an answering smile, even as his mind raced with ways to keep Margaret’s section out of her sight.

  Capt Conkey went on: “Each platoon is to have a medic attached. The medics haven’t had any real customers yet and they are sitting around getting fat.” He went over the details of medical and safety procedures, then more admin. “Four Platoon, you will be away from us again tonight so make sure you collect your rations now. They should last you till breakfast tomorrow. We will give you more at the RV on top of the river bank above your new bivouac site.”

  Capt Conkey looked at the CQ, Cadet Staff Sergeant Lacey. Bert nodded and added: “Yes sir. There are twenty six one-man ration packs over at the Q tent ready. Could you get Sergeant Dunning to collect them please CUO Kirk?”

  Graham pointed. “Here he comes now with a work party.”

  Capt Conkey covered the details on ‘Command and Signals’ and clarified a few odd points people raised. It was 0830 by then so he dismissed them to get things moving. They all stood up. Graham stood uncertainly, wondering how to get Capt Conkey aside on his own. Barbara joined him and asked him how things were going. To Graham’s annoyance Falls and Berzinski stood beside them talking to Lt Maclaren. Graham felt another surge of frustration. ‘Will I never get a chance to talk to the OC on his own?’ he fretted. He decided he would have to risk it and opened his mouth to speak.