The Cadet Under-Officer

by Christopher Cummings

  “I did consider hiding the platoon in amongst the rubber vines beside the river and fighting them off. It would mean shooting and a siege until the police arrive which could be a day or so. I’m a bit ashamed to have thought of that. It was me being all military and heroic but it’s not very moral. It means we - I mean I - would have to shoot at least one of them to prove we mean business and others could be shot and killed.”

  Graham shrugged. “Besides, we’ve only this one pistol. We’d need more guns for that plan - although I’ve thought how to get them,” he added. He went on: “But I’ve thought of a fourth option and it is what I am going to do, but volunteers only. I’m going to split the platoon. The sick and the lame I will scatter. They will have two jobs. One is to decoy Bargheese away from us; and the second is to alert the army or police. I’m sure the police aren’t in on this. I think they were tricked into helping NORMAC.”

  Roger nodded but remained silent, his eyes on his friend’s determined face. Graham outlined his plan, then concluded, “We will still lead them a good chase even if we don’t get there and can still go to one of the other options if it looks like we won’t succeed. Now, get the ‘O’ group ready.”

  Roger smiled with relief and enthusiasm. He knew his friend just wouldn’t give up and the aggressive plan to strike unexpectedly seized his imagination. He went to get the corporals while Graham knelt on the sand, spread his map and opened his notebook.

  Hodgins called to him: “Company HQ calling sir, Net Call Sign. All platoons are to move back to the HQ location now. What will I say?”

  “Acknowledge. Say we are on our way,” he replied. Then he grinned. “We will be on our way too. That’s an ambiguous enough answer not to be a lie.” For a moment he considered if he should try to radio back his plan so that they could send help. After a few moments thought he decided it might be risked and wrote a message on a page of his notebook

  OBJECTIVE BLACK PIG’S LAIR

  He passed it to Hodgins. “Encode that, but only send it if the CSM is there and if it is not BROWN’S COWS.”

  Hodgins opened the small code booklet that the signals section had produced for the exercise and began to reduce the message to a jumble of three letter trigrams, each trigram representing a word or a letter of the alphabet.

  Roger joined them. “Here’s the sick list. They’re all in Cpl Kenny’s section except Brenda Woodhouse and Cadet Stimson. And Cpl Kenny’s leg is bleeding again and I think he should be taken to a doctor. Lillis and Stimson are both sick with heat and aren’t up to a hard march. Woodhouse has stomach cramps and bad blisters. There are a few others with blisters and chafing but they reckon they’re ok.”

  Graham stared at the list of sick with dismay. ‘Bloody hell, six! That is a third of my cadets,’ he thought. But he accepted the reality and immediately set about recasting his plans. “Thanks, Roger. Move the whole platoon in here now, except Cpl Lake’s sentry. I’ll give orders to all of them at once. Quick!” Graham bent back to his map, measuring distances and calculating magnetic bearings. It was about ten kilometres to Whaleback Hill in a straight line - 12 or 13 by the route he planned. He knew he could do it easily but he wasn’t too sure about the platoon. ‘All the more reason to hive off the sickies,’ he told himself.

  The sections came and dumped their packs in lines, then sat in groups close behind their section leaders. Graham hadn’t finished the details but looked at his watch and saw it was 11.05 - nearly 15 minutes since the warning! They had to get going! He faced his platoon.

  “There’s no time for detailed explanations. The enemy has discovered we have Elizabeth. (He saw her blanch with fear). They are on their way here with the OC who is being forced to guide them at gunpoint. They have captured Miss McEwen and have her prisoner at the Brendan Creek Mine. We are going to try to escape from them. It will mean some hard marching and good fieldcraft. If anyone doesn’t feel up to it then they can stay here but I must warn you these crooks are dangerous and desperate and you could be hurt or become a hostage.”

  Graham knew that wasn’t a fair way to put it but it was the truth. Roger met his eyes and nodded. Graham went on: “First we are going to get some guns - by a little trick. Then we are going to fool them. But only the fittest are coming, and only volunteers. Cpl Kenny, you and LCpl Szelag are to lead decoy patrols with the sick ones and are to make your way to the army camp,” he said. Cpl Kenny tried to protest but Graham was firm. “Sorry. You will still be doing valuable work to help us. With you will be anyone who doesn’t want to take part us, plus Cadets Lillis, Hamley, Woodhouse and Stimson.”

  As he expected there were protests from Cpl Kenny and the named cadets (except Cadet Woodhouse) but Graham remained resolute and refused to allow them to stay with the platoon. “We have to march hard and fast and you aren’t well enough,” he said. Then he faced the platoon again. “Is there anyone else who wants to go with Cpl Kenny?”

  Nobody did so Graham gave rapid orders which indicated that the platoon was heading for Charters Towers. Faces broke into grins and within five minutes they had begun moving.

  As they did Hodgins said, “The OC calling sir. He’s using the Call Sign ‘Brown’s Cows’ and he wants to know if we are at our new bivouac site or moving in.”

  “Tell him we are moving now,” Graham replied with a grin Excitement gripped him and overrode the fear.

  Walsh and Anderson ran off back along the track towards Canning Junction to give early warning of Bargheese’s approach. (Graham hoped he would come that way). The others moved across the grassy flood channel and crouched amongst the bushes beside the animal track. Szelag, Tully and Livingstone began rehearsing their part.

  Graham led Roger, Cpl Sheehan and LCpl Halyday across the ridge through the rubber vines. He positioned them in hiding, (where was the wild pig?), then climbed the bank, his heart beating wildly. At the top he stopped to look, then calmed himself with an effort. The two men were still sitting in the shade beside the white utility. He was very conscious of the minutes flying by. Bargheese must be close now.

  ‘It is all or nothing,’ Graham told himself. He took out the pistol, checked it, cocked it and placed it back in his basic pouch. Then he walked out into the open. A glance to his right showed no sign of anyone heading towards them along the top of the bank. If the OC had come that way there would be a rapid change of plan. Graham looked up the rise. The two NORMAC men were there, sitting on a log. He began to run and to shout at the top of his voice.

  The men heard him at once and looked around, then stood up. Graham kept running and shouted again. “Hey, we’ve found the girl! She’s hiding down on the river bank! Come quick! Bring your guns!”

  The men did exactly as he’d hoped. They picked up guns and began to run. Then one hesitated and looked as though he might go back to use the vehicle’s radio.

  “Quick, hurry! We’ve found the girl!” Graham shouted. The man turned and both of them ran down the long open slope. Graham stopped running and waited, getting his breath back. The men were only miners, not security men. One carried a bolt action sporting rifle and the other a pump action shotgun. As they arrived breathless Graham began his act again, pointing and urging.

  “Quick! Quick! Down this track. I’ve got cadets watching her hiding place.”

  The men were puffed by this but kept running to the top of the bank. After a glance they set off down the animal pad. Graham followed them down, slipping and sliding in the loose dust. As he went down he took out the pistol. His mouth was dry with the excitement and heat and his tongue seemed to stick in his mouth.

  The men reached the bottom and looked around to see which way to go. Graham stopped and pointed the pistol at the man with the shotgun.

  “Which way?” the man asked.

  “Nowhere! Put down your guns!”

  The men gaped at him. Graham knew fear such as he’d never known. Death was in the glade. His voice cracking with excitement and fear he snarled, “I said drop the guns! This pistol is lo
aded and you are surrounded! Sgt Dunning!”

  Roger, Cpl Sheehan and LCpl Halyday stood up. The miners stared in disbelief.

  “What the .... What the hell is this? What’s going on?” the older one asked.

  “You are our prisoners. We do have the girl and she’s coming to the police with us. Now drop your guns or I’ll shoot.” Graham tried to look and sound determined.

  The men seemed reluctant as well as disbelieving and fingered their weapons nervously. “Is this some sort of a game? Are you cadets mixing us up in an exercise?” the man with the rifle asked.

  Graham shook his head. “No, this is no game. We are deadly serious. We don’t want to hurt you. We just want your guns. Then we will go.”

  They were still unconvinced. Graham first feared they might shoot and was terrified he had made an awful mistake, then he wondered if they would end up in a ‘Mexican stand-off’. ‘We can’t afford to wait,’ he thought. “Alright, watch this,” he said. He pointed the pistol to one side and pulled the trigger.

  Crack!

  They all jumped. The bullet kicked up dust. The men gaped again as if they couldn’t comprehend what was happening then they looked at the grim faced boy who had again levelled the pistol at them.

  The man with the shotgun licked his lips to moisten them. “Ok. Take it easy,” he said. Slowly he knelt down and placed the shotgun in the dust. Then he straightened up and raised his hands. The other man reluctantly did the same. At once Roger and Cpl Sheehan walked forward and picked up the weapons, then moved back.

  “Hands behind your back!” Graham ordered. He felt light-headed with relief. Raising his voice he called: “Righto! Cpl Kenny! Start moving! Cpl Lake follow when ready (that would send ‘Cactus’ hot-foot to recall Walsh and Anderson), Tully! Livingstone!”

  The men were told to sit. Roger grabbed his and Graham’s packs and hurried down into the grassy channel. After dropping Graham’s pack and hoisting on his own he scrambled up the animal pad. His mission was to go and search the utility for more guns or ammo. Graham stood with the pistol ready. Cpl Kenny’s section came plodding through the rubber vines in single file and set off up the steep bank. Tully and Livingstone began tying one of the men up with green nylon cord. Tully cut it into lengths with his pocket knife which he then stuck into the sand.

  Margaret led her section through, including Walsh and Anderson, followed by Woodhouse and Elizabeth.

  Graham pointed to her. “I didn’t lie. Here is the girl. We are taking her to the police,” he said. The men looked but didn’t know what to believe. They both looked very worried.

  As Margaret’s section filed past the two men and started up the slope Walsh called out in a ‘fed up’ tone: “Hey corporal, how far is it back to the bloody army camp?”

  “About five kilometres,” Margaret snapped back, “now shut up and get up this hill.”

  Margaret’s section went scrabbling up the steep pad and vanished over the top. Tully and Livingstone began to tie the second man - hands behind back and ankles.

  Now for the play acting. Tully cut more cord and put his knife down. Graham turned and pretended impatience- which wasn’t hard as he was in a lather of anxiety about the imminent arrival of Bargheese. “Right Cpl Sheehan get your section moving. Come on Tully and Livingstone, tie those knots and move!” he snapped.

  Tully and Livingstone hurried to tie the last knots, then rushed to grab their packs, the knife left apparently ‘forgotten’ near one of the men. Graham urged the two cadets to hurry, then told the men he would bring the police to untie them later. As the last cadet passed he pulled on his pack and followed. His powerful thigh muscles quickly propelled him up the slope but at the top he found he was gasping for air and trembling.

  On top Graham paused and looked back. The men had twisted round to watch them. Still shaking with excitement and relief he set off, grabbing Roger’s pack which had been dropped there. By then all of the platoon had walked out onto the hard stony flat and turned left except for LCpl Szelag, Cadet Lillis and Cadet Stimson. They began plodding slowly up towards the vehicle. Roger was already on his way back, running diagonally to join the platoon.

  Phase 1 complete! Phase 2 now underway! The three in LCpl Szelag’s group were to go to ‘Canning Park’ homestead and ring the police and hopefully - if seen - draw the pursuit away.

  The rest of the platoon kept walking west as fast as they could go. They were strung out in a long line heading into a scattering of trees and vine scrub. Graham looked at his watch. It was 11:33. ‘If Bargheese set out when the CSM gave her warning he must be close behind us,’ he thought, ‘perhaps already questioning the two men who should be cutting themselves free by now. We must hurry!’

  Roger arrived, puffing and red-faced, a cardboard box in one hand, the shotgun in the other.

  “Any luck?” Graham asked.

  "Yeah. Box of twenty shotgun cartridges,” Roger replied, holding up the box.

  The platoon passed behind some large clumps of rubber vine and Graham felt easier. They were now out of sight of where the track reached the top of the bank. He began to feel pleased with himself. They had not only broken out but now had three guns instead of one (although it had been touch and go!).

  Now for the next bit.

  The platoon had halted in single file in amongst rubber vines and trees on top of the bank. All were red-faced and panting. Graham checked all were present and that the rifle and shotgun had their safety catches on, then went ahead for a quick reconnaissance. They were on the edge of a steep sided creek which led down to join the Bunyip. ‘Good, Quilp Creek,’ he thought. ‘That’s where I wanted to be.’

  Hodgins spoke again. “OC calling sir. ‘Brown’s Cows’ again. He’s at our bivouac site and wants to know where we are.”

  Graham took the handset. “This is Call Sign Four Four. We are moving back along the top of the bank, not down in the rubber vines. Sorry about that. We didn’t know you were coming. You didn’t say which way to go. Will we come back to you or go on along the top?” he said.

  Capt Conkey said: “Four Four, come back, over.”

  Graham replied, “This is Four Four, roger that. Watch out, there is a big black pig down there in the rubber vines. Out.” He passed the handset back and they all grinned.

  “You aren’t going back?” Roger asked.

  “No fear. Come on,” Graham replied grinning. He signalled and they began to follow him.

  He found a pig track but still had to force his way down, crushing the vines and rolling over them and getting all caught up. To force a path he thrashed and struggled. After a minute he rolled clear, sweating and swearing with dead leaves down the back of his shirt and in his mouth and eyes. The others followed. The crashing and thrashing sounded loud but they were a good three hundred metres west of where they’d left the men tied up and he was sure the sound wouldn’t travel that far.

  After the first few had forced a passage it was easier. The platoon grouped in the dry creek bed. Only when all were standing there did Graham move again. He led them to the left down the creek. After fifty metres they passed the end of the flood channel and moved in under overhanging trees in the bed of the Bunyip. Their boots left a trail an idiot could follow. They halted.

  “Helicopter coming,” Roger called.

  Graham had forgotten the helicopter. “Under cover!” he called. The cadets scattered and pushed in under bushes and trees and went still. The helicopter arrived and circled low over the trees they were under. For a few seconds Graham though it had seen them but then it changed attitude and went down and then landed out of sight. From the sound he deduced it had put down in the large grassy flood channel near where they had just been. ‘Bargheese must be there.’

  The knowledge that the enemy were only a few hundred metres away sent his pulses racing. ‘We must move fast,’ he thought. ‘Now for the next part of my plan.’ “Right, packs off and put them up the trees,” he ordered.

  The bent over trees arche
d low overhead. Several cadets climbed up and the packs were passed up and wedged among the branches. This took less than three minutes.

  Graham pointed towards the river. “Now, we cross the river - a section at a time. When we get to the edge of the water boots and socks off to keep them dry. Unlace them now. Take off your socks and walk in the boots unlaced until you reach the water, then slip them off and carry them. Put them on as soon as you reach dry land. If the helicopter comes over dive for cover and freeze. If you are caught in the open curl up, don’t lie spread-eagled. If we are obviously seen I will tell you to get up and run.”

  They sat and did as they were told. The helicopter’s engine could be heard idling.

  “How deep is the water?” asked Cadet Tully.

  “Only ankle deep!” about half the platoon chorused.

  Graham blushed, then grinned. “Ok, Cpl Lake. Your section leading, then HQ, Cpl Sheehan, then Cpl Kenny,” he ordered. They stood up and began moving, passing through a gap in a sand ridge, under some trees and out across the dry sandy river bed. There were a few small outcrops of rocks and a fair growth of young trees one or two metres high which the next big flood would wash away. The platoon had to cross a hundred metres of flat open sand and Graham kept looking left towards the proposed company bivouac site. ‘Anyone there might see us,’ he told himself.

  The platoon moved in ‘one up’ with each section widely spaced in ‘arrowhead’. They came to the first water, a tepid, shallow backwater which was only ankle deep.

  “Down!” Graham called as loudly as he dared. Cadets scuttled to small rocks and curled up on the sand amongst dead logs and small twisted bushes. Behind them the helicopter rose above the sand ridges. Graham peered under his arm, shielding his face from the sun. To his intense relief the helicopter turned and swung off northwards towards ‘Canning Park’. ‘Have they seen LCpl Szelag’s group?’ he wondered.

  As soon as the helicopter was out of sight Graham signalled to Margaret. She in turn signalled to Walsh and Anderson, her two scouts, who rose and began walking briskly forward. Graham couldn’t see much because of the rocks and small bushes so he raised himself to watch and to keep an eye out behind and for the helicopter. The two scouts waded another stretch of water and clambered over piles of grey rocks. When they were more than halfway Margaret stood and the remainder of her section did likewise. They walked quickly forward.