The Cadet Under-Officer

by Christopher Cummings

  Graham gave them fifty paces before he stood and followed with the rest of the platoon. By the time he reached the water Margaret’s section was all across and moving over the jumble of rocks. He pulled off his boots and socks and waded in. The water was quite cool and refreshing and he splashed his face. The water was nearly thigh deep but the bottom was clear, clean sand and it was easy going.

  As he neared the other bank Graham looked back. Hodgins was in the middle of the water with Rebecca just wading in. Then Graham heard it - too late!

  “Take cover!” he cried.

  The red and white aircraft rocketed into view just above the tree tops to his right! Graham splashed to the nearest rocks and curled up on them but it was obvious from the way the plane changed direction they were seen. It roared low overhead, then banked sharply around and swooped back again. Hodgins and Rebecca splashed ashore and crouched among the rocks.

  ‘Damn!’ Graham thought, sweat breaking out all over him. ‘Bargheese is only half a kilometre away.’

  CHAPTER 26

  THE BIG BEND OF THE BUNYIP

  As the plane roared over Graham wondered if it might shoot at them but quickly dismissed the idea as silly. It flew over low, then rose and began a wide circle.

  “Up! Get moving! Run!” he shouted. The cadets pulled on boots and began moving as quickly as they could. Graham was worried and angry. They had been so rapidly and easily discovered! ‘But my plan might still work,’ he told himself.

  More water - boots off - knee deep but rocky bottom which hurt the toes. Boots on, run over the rocks. The plane circled around again. Another flow of water - nearly waist deep this time and flowing fast enough to make it difficult but only ten metres wide.

  There was a loud splash and swearing. Graham looked and saw that a cadet had fallen over and was soaked. He rose spluttering and swearing. ‘Cactus’ - who else! Boots on and run again. Sand in the boots making it painful, but the trees were close now. Margaret’s section splashed across some muddy shallows full of weeds and vanished into the thick belt of timber on the far bank. Another half minute and Graham was in there too. He sat on a bent over tree and began drying his feet.

  By the time Cpl Sheehan’s section had all arrived Graham had his socks on. By the time Cpl Kenny and Roger arrived he had one boot on and laced up. All the while his mind was racing. ‘There are at least two NORMAC men only a couple of hundred metres downstream. They must have been alerted. Would Bargheese send them to head the platoon off?’ Graham decided he would. But would they know the platoon was armed? It depended if the information was passed on. ‘It is a risk we have to take,’ he decided.

  “Cpl Lake, quick! I want two of you to go 200 paces downstream amongst the trees on the river bank and two more the same distance but up where they can see on top of the bank. You position them where they can watch the most likely track people might approach by. If they see anyone, one is to run back and report and the other to pull back, keeping whoever it is under observation. Tell them not to be seen and not to take risks.”

  Margaret finished lacing her boots and nodded. ‘I have been given a really responsible task,’ she thought, flushing with pleasure at this mark of confidence. She at once called her section in and repeated the instructions then set off. She left Cactus and Elizabeth with the packs, sent LCpl Walsh and Cadet Morrow through the trees and led Cadets Anderson and Wallis up the bank out of sight.

  Graham finished lacing his boots and called in Cpl Sheehan, Sgt Dunning and Cpl Kenny. Kenny’s wound was seeping blood and he had his trouser leg rolled up. Rebecca set to work replacing the dressing while Graham talked. The light aircraft droned overhead on another circle. That only bothered Graham a little as they were now in under the trees. As he talked Graham kept listening for the helicopter. It was far more of a threat as it could actually land armed men.

  First he checked their weapons. He had a pistol and 7 rounds of 9mm ammo. Roger had the shotgun and 25 12gauge cartridges. Cpl Sheehan had a 5.56mm bolt action sporting rifle with 10 rounds.

  There was the sound of running and Margaret appeared.

  “Three men. I mean three NORMAC security men, all armed with rifles and one carrying a radio. They are heading this way along the top of the bank.”

  “What’s the ground like? How are they spaced?”

  “There’s this belt of trees we are in, then a steep little bank with rubber vines along it and then it levels off again into more open thorn bushes. There’s a cattle pad just on top. They’re on that. They’re in a bunch and don’t look very keen. I mean they’re walking very slowly,” Margaret explained a little breathlessly.

  “How far away?”

  “About two hundred metres. We weren’t even in position when we saw them.”

  “Come on Roger, and you Cpl Sheehan and you LCpl Halyday. Cpl Kenny, you get the rest together and start moving upstream amongst the trees. We will catch you up. Margaret, you show us these men, then collect your section and follow Cpl Kenny.”

  Roger looked very worried and put a restraining hand on his sleeve. Graham met his worried eyes. “It’s alright mate. We are just going to hold them up. We will only shoot in self-defence and then only to wound,” he said. He was scared but very determined.

  Graham set off at a run, following Margaret, the others behind him. Once again the adrenalin was pumping and he was very excited. He was planning to surprise and disarm these men too - as the action they might least expect - but was prepared for a stand-off gun battle to delay them if he failed.

  A hundred paces brought them to a position where they were amongst trees just below the path. There was plenty of cover and they were in shadow. Anderson and Deborah were there, peering through a rubber vine.

  Graham crawled up to them and looked. ‘There they are! Only fifty paces away! No time for any fancy plan,’ he realized. He looked around then slid back down and whispered instructions, then began walking carefully back, avoiding twigs and dry leaves. The others crouched in behind trees and bushes. Once he was ten paces beyond the others Graham took out the pistol and cautiously crawled up behind a tree trunk, keeping in its shadow.

  His heart was thumping loudly and blood sang in his ears but his brain and senses were working well. He looked cautiously out.

  The first man was almost level with them. He looked fit and was in his late twenties or early thirties with shirt sleeves rolled up to show off his muscles and tattoos. He carried an automatic rifle which looked like an MI6. A couple of paces behind him was a thin, grey-haired man with a ‘walkie-talkie’ radio and a pump-action shotgun. Behind him was a fatter man with a rifle, a .303.

  Graham realized the platoon could just lie there and they wouldn’t be seen. The men weren’t searching very carefully. But that didn’t suit his plan to seize the initiative from the enemy. So he aimed the pistol carefully and called out. “Stop! Hands up! Put down the weapons! We’ve got you covered!”

  The men stopped and stared in astonishment at the trees and bushes his voice came from. Graham saw the man with the MI6 start to crouch, whether to spring or shoot he wasn’t sure as the man’s eyes were searching frantically for him.

  ‘He’s probably ex-army and thinks we are just scared kids,’ Graham thought. To dissuade the man he called, “Don’t be stupid! Don’t move! Our guns are loaded and we know how to use them.”

  The men stood undecided and obviously not entirely convinced. Graham began to sweat, fearing his plan would fail. Gripped by mounting desperation he yelled, “I mean it. We’ve got the guns off your mates across the river and we’ll shoot if we have to. Just to convince you I’ll get one of my men to fire a shot. Sergeant Dunning!”

  Boom!

  The roar of the shotgun rattled around the river bed. The blast of pellets slammed into a large Eucalypt which began to ooze red sap from a hundred holes. The gun smoke wafted into a band of sunlight and the smell quickened Graham’s pulse.

  It certainly worried the men but they still wouldn’t put their gu
ns down.

  Graham began to feel the situation was slipping out of his control. He called: “Listen, we’ve got the drop on you. I’ve got seven armed cadets here, all trained to shoot. We aren’t going to hold you prisoner. All we want are your guns and your radio. We are going to the police and if you’ve got any sense you’ll just start clearing out while the going’s good.”

  The radio the man carried began to crackle- Falls demanding to know what the shot was about. The light plane circled again but there were enough trees to block the view.

  “Don’t use that radio,” Graham ordered. “Listen, don’t be idiots, and don’t try to be heroes. Even if you fight back and hit one or two of us we are going to hit all of you. We can’t miss at this range and then you’ll never escape.”

  The logic of this convinced them. The man with the tattoos who Graham had been most worried about gave up first. “Ok, don’t shoot,” he called He bent down and placed the MI6 in the dust, then started backing off with his hands up until a thorn bush snagged him and he swore. The other two also put down their guns. The last man peeled off a bandolier and dropped it as well.

  “And the radio.” It went down with a thud. Falls was still calling. The last man turned and started to run.

  “Go on, run. Get out of here!” Graham shouted. He was jubilant and nearly fired the pistol to emphasize it but restrained himself. Tattoos tore his shirt free and he and the thin man set off back but only at a brisk walk.

  “Halyday - the MI6, Cpl Lake the shotgun, Cadet Wallis the radio, Cadet Anderson the other rifle. Check they are on safe,” Graham called. The cadets scrambled out of cover. The noise made the two men turn and look. Then they quickened their pace. The plane went round again.

  Now Graham felt confident. ‘We’ve broken the enemy’s cordon! That must be causing them some alarm and consternation; and now we’ve got six guns. We can really bluff to hold them off. But not here,’ he thought. He said: “Let’s move. Margaret, call in Walshy and Cadet Morrow.”

  They set off back down through the trees to where the platoon had put their boots on. There was no-one there. Graham halted while Margaret got her other two sentries. While they waited they all grinned and began talking in a bunch at the relief.

  “Come on. Save it for later. We aren’t out of the woods yet,” Graham snapped, annoyed that their training and discipline had crumpled so easily. He set off, the others following in single file. Roger came last. As they made their way ducking and weaving through the trees Bargheese’s voice came crackling on the radio demanding ‘Vic’ tell him what was going on. He sounded worried.

  Cadet Wallis held the radio up. “Will I turn this off sir? It’s making a lot of noise,” she asked.

  “No. We might learn something useful. Besides, it cheers me up to hear that bastard getting worried,” Graham replied.

  It was hard going as they were walking against the lie of the flood-bent trees which had all their trunks and branches facing towards them. Graham gave it up as too tiring and led the way up a gap onto the top of the bank amongst the thorn bushes. There was no grass here - just sand, dust and dead leaves and it was easy walking. He knew they would be visible from the air but that now suited his plan.

  After a couple of minutes they caught up with the rest of the platoon who were still struggling along through the trees below them.

  “Four Platoon, move up here,” Graham called.

  Cpl Kenny appeared, relief evident in his face. “What happened sir? What was that shot?”

  “We just caught them in a little ambush. I told them to drop their guns. The shot was just to convince them we were armed. We’ve got their guns and their radio and they’ve gone back to their vehicle. I’ll tell you the details later. We’ve still got to move fast.”

  Graham got the platoon in single file but this time he took the lead. He gave the pistol to Margaret and took the bolt action .303 Lee Enfield off Anderson. It was an old World War 2 Army rifle, the woodwork black with age, but the steel still in good condition. There was a full magazine and a round in the breech. Better still there were another 50 rounds in the cloth bandolier. Graham knew how to handle the rifle because his uncle owned one, and the unit had several which it used for ceremonial drill.

  The platoon began trudging along the cattle pad. Graham didn’t try to patrol or worry about spacing. He didn’t think there could be any immediate threat and speed was more important. Cpl Kenny walked behind him, limping a fair bit. The cadets soon strung out and their boots stirred up a cloud of grey dust which rose in the air.

  The thorn trees thinned and they came to a deep, rubber vine choked gully. This forced a detour down through the trees and up again but the cattle pad was clear and easy to follow. The trees became sparser and the thorn trees fewer. The plane banked overhead. They had been seen again. ‘Good,’ thought Graham as it fitted his plan.

  The thudding of boots behind him made Graham look back. He was surprised to see the whole platoon closing up into a tight group, the people at the back almost running to catch up. Mystified as to why he opened his mouth to find out the reason when it became all too clear. A very large, whitish coloured bull, some sort of Brahman cross, was following them with an evil look in its eye.

  “Keep going,” Graham told Cpl Kenny. Checking the rifle was ready to use he stood while the line of worried faces, now almost holding each other’s hands they were so close, went scuffling past. At the back of the line Graham joined Roger who had the shotgun ready. The bull kept closing the distance but it was still twenty metres back and only walking.

  “That bull’s taken a shine to you Roger,” Graham said.

  Roger wasn’t amused. The pair followed the platoon, taking turns to face the rear. In the hurry someone tripped over the heels of the person in front and fell in a cloud of dust. Cactus. He scrambled up and scuttled back into line.

  A barbed wire fence saved them. There was no gate but the cadets spread out along it and went under the bottom strand in a scuffle of dust, boots and elbows, like lemmings on their race to the sea.

  Roger rolled under and then stood and covered Graham who rolled under. The bull snorted and pawed the ground.

  Walsh chuckled. “He’s got his eye on you Sergeant,” he said.

  Roger snorted. “What’s that you are ankle deep in that’s filling your trousers Walshy?” he replied.

  Anderson laughed. “Only heart the Sarge is ever likely to win,” he drawled.

  Graham ordered a halt for a drink. They were on the bank of an even deeper gully. This one came down from the highway near the roadhouse. The plane came round again. Graham waved. Bargheese’s voice came again, calling someone called Lenny and Wally but they weren’t answering either.

  Roger listened to the radio then said, “Sounds like his organization isn’t holding together too well.”

  Graham agreed. He was feeling much more confident. What he was now worried about was not escaping or contacting the police but finding Miss McEwen in time.

  Graham pointed south up the gully. “Ok, Cpl Kenny, send Cadet Nelms to Cpl Lake’s section and Cadet Lawson to Cpl Sheehan then off you go. Up this gully to the left. Try not to be seen. If you can, phone the police from the roadhouse. If you can’t then go east, cross the river near the rail bridge and go to the army camp. Tell Lt Hamilton the story. We will see you sometime tomorrow I expect,” he said.

  Cpl Kenny and Cadets Hamley and Woodhouse set off down a steep track into the bed of the gully which, at this point and as far up as they could see, had nearly vertical sides. As the patrol vanished from sight Graham felt a surge of relief. Now he only had the fit keen ones. Smiling with grim satisfaction he led the remainder of the platoon, now totalling 19 people including Elizabeth and himself, down another track to the bottom, then up the other side and across a large open grassy area.

  The plane circled again, still watching. Graham hoped Cpl Kenny’s group was not spotted and that all eyes in the plane were on his group. There was now a fence on their
left. Two hundred paces further west they came to a gate. A vehicle track led up from the river, through the gate and off through a small forest of thorn trees to a bare grassy rise.

  This was the track Graham had followed the previous night. He led through the gate and along another track beside the fence. It was very hot and dusty. They came to a small hill and, just beyond it, the overgrown ruins of an old gold mine and battery. The ruins were a mess of concrete slabs, rusty machinery and corrugated iron, and collapsed brick walls. The whole area was overgrown with thorn bushes, weeds and rubber vines. There were concrete columns for supporting massive iron fly-wheels and a rusting boiler next to a brick chimney.

  Graham allowed the platoon to close up into the shade of some trees. He told them to have a drink. The plane circled over again. Bargheese’s radio was silent. It was just after midday and very hot.

  “We now have to lose that bloody plane and fool the bugger flying it. Next time it comes round we will head off up the slope away from the river but as soon as it is past run back down in here and hide. Then make your way down to the river bank without being seen,” he called.

  They put the plan into action and a few minutes later all lay or crouched under bushes in the rubble. The plane came around lower and in tighter circles. Graham could see the pilot’s face peering out. As soon as the plane was past Graham scuttled to another bush, then crawled along beside a low brick wall and hid beside the boiler. Next time he ran, rolled under the fence and slid down a steep bank. In the process his shirt and arm were torn by a thorn bush.

  Soon the platoon were all grouped in the cover of the trees beside the river. The plane kept circling but over towards the highway, causing Graham to fear that it was watching Cpl Kenny’s patrol. He had waterbottles refilled while he checked everyone was there and ready. Then he set off upstream along the river bank, keeping amongst the trees. It was hot and sweaty work. They had to cross another deep gully and a track which led down from a farm. Rubber vine grew in isolated clumps and there were belts of thorn bush. It was the trees which slowed them most.