There were long stretches of several hundred metres where they could walk easily along animal pads and across small grassy areas but they had to get across quickly when the aircraft was flying away from them. It was now circling well behind them, back over Bunyip Bend township.
“I can hear that bloody helicopter,” Cpl Sheehan said. Graham nodded. It sounded a long way off and the noise died as though it had landed somewhere. He hoped it wasn’t Cpl Kenny’s group in trouble.
The platoon crossed the end of another gully and had to climb over a low fence. Graham called a halt as they were all hot and puffed. While the platoon rested he followed a cattle pad to the top of steep, eroded bank. Peeking cautiously over the top he saw a large open paddock, mostly sand and gibbers. A few horses grazed nearby. A small farmhouse stood halfway up the slope and beyond it Graham saw a big truck moving on the highway.
This confirmed him his location on the map. He looked around. They were right at the southern edge of the great sweeping curve where the Bunyip came around before doing its sharp bend at Canning Junction.
The highway was tempting. It was only a kilometre away. But as he watched the temptation evaporated. The helicopter appeared like an angry bee and began buzzing up and down between the river and the highway. Then a large yellow dump truck came to a standstill on the hill beyond the farmhouse. Graham shrugged. ‘No chance or reaching the highway now,’ he thought, not that he really minded because Miss McEwen was in trouble and rescuing her had become his dominant aim.
With this in mind Graham ran back down to the platoon. That section of the river bank fronted a steep grassy bank leading to a long, deep pool. Graham told the platoon to stay hidden under the trees and then he picked up a stick. Turning to Roger he said, “I’ll just check how deep it is.”
From among the trees came Walsh’s voice. “Only be ankle deep sir!”
Graham blushed, then grinned. After checking the location of the helicopter and aircraft he did quick reconnaissance with boots and stick. It took only a few seconds to determine that the river was too deep to wade. He led the way on through more trees and across another grassy glade, over a fence to where the river bed was choked with small islands covered with trees and thousands of rocky outcrops.
Again Graham did a quick recon and came to a deep backwater with steep muddy sides. As he looked at it something slid into the water with a splash. It had a long brown neck. Crocodile? No only a tortoise. He went back and explained the next stage and boots once more came off.
CHAPTER 27
FORCED MARCH
Graham tied his boots together and slung them round his neck then waded into thigh deep water. The bottom was slimy rocks and ooze and felt cold and horrible. As he waded along he kept stubbing his toes and slipping but reached a small island. Beyond was another channel that was almost waist deep. The water in this was flowing and not so muddy. He could see the plane circling a good kilometre back to the east and got glimpses of the helicopter over near the highway. ‘We will have to risk being seen,’ he decided. An arm signal set the platoon moving, spaced twenty metres apart.
Still watching the circling aircraft Graham walked up onto hot sand and had to put the rifle down to wash mud and sand off his feet before pulling on his boots. Then he began clambering over the jumbles of rocks and through patches of mud with waist high reeds and small thin trees as high as his hat.
Graham was nearly in the middle of the river bed when the note of the aircraft engine changed. He scrambled down amongst some rocks and looked. The plane was heading towards them. No, it was heading more to the north. It flew in a straight line across the trees on the far bank and on out of sight. ‘I wonder where it is going?’ he thought. It appeared to be heading for Brendan Creek. But was it going there to refuel, or to report?
He got up and kept walking fast, with a wary eye each way for the plane and the helicopter. As the tree line got closer he looked back and could see almost every one of his people in a long line following him. With relief he found there was no more water to wade. The last hundred metres was hard, dried mud. The whole area was criss-crossed by cattle tracks so he wasn’t concerned at leaving a trail of boot prints.
Thankfully Graham reached the shelter of the trees on the north bank and sat on the lush short grass in the shade to put on socks and boots. He would dearly have liked to stretch out and have a sleep but instead took his map out of its plastic case to check his navigation.
It was almost ten kilometres in a straight line to Whaleback Hill, his first objective. He made himself be realistic in his planning. The rest of the platoon arrived and flopped down panting. Graham posted two sentries and made them all have a drink. Then he went over his ‘time and space’ before calling a quick ‘O’ Group.
It was now nearly 1pm. The sky was cloudless and the heat stifling. ‘The heat will certainly slow us down and knock us around,’ he thought. With some misgivings Graham decided to divide his force again.
“I’m going to push on with a small recon party while you bring the rest of the platoon Roger. I will take the three fittest. That’s Cpl Sheehan, LCpl Halyday and Cadet Tully. We will take the weapons we have and go direct to Whaleback Hill. You will follow a slight ‘dog leg’ to keep you further off the direct flight path and away from this road which runs from ‘Canning Park’ to Brendan Creek. You are to go along near the river bank. I want you there by sixteen thirty. That’s about three kilometres per hour and thirty minutes to climb the hill. Seventeen hundred hours at the latest.”
They synchronised watches and Roger and the corporals marked the route on their maps.
Hodgins spoke up, “Company HQ calling us again sir.”
“Don’t answer. Any questions anyone? Right, we’ll get moving.”
“It’s Mrs Standish, sir.” Hodgins said.
Graham took the handset and answered, then listened, his face becoming grimmer by the moment. He turned to the others. “She said Bargheese has the company held hostage. He’s captured Kenny’s group. Hamley has been shot and seriously wounded and they’ve bashed the OC unconscious. She said I was only to give Bargheese the brown notebook once Miss McEwen was set free and we were to go to the police. Then it sounded as though she was being strangled and it cut out.”
The listening cadets were appalled. Roger spoke, “Christ! This is getting bloody serious. The rotten bastards!”
Cpl Sheehan asked, “Do we go on sir?”
Graham nodded. “My bloody oath we do!” he said through clenched teeth. “Come on, let’s hit the turds again.”
He stood up and was joined by the other three. They took their compasses out and checked them before setting off. First they had to find a way through the trees and rubber vines along the river bank but within five minutes were up on the flat, open savannah country. Then it was just a straight walk.
The route took them slowly away from the river and its sheltering trees. That caused some anxiety as there was less cover and Graham kept listening for the aircraft. The three cadets crossed a large, flat, muddy hollow full of pig rootings and came onto barren, overgrazed, gently undulating land. This had large stretches almost devoid of grass; reddish soil and gibbers from which the heat reflected to rise in shimmering waves.
Halyday wiped sweat from his face. “This is the sort of country poor old Burke and Wills died in. Strewth, isn’t it hot!” he grumbled.
Cpl Sheehan chuckled. “I didn’t know you were that old Cpl Halyday.”
Halyday sniffed and wiped more sweat. “I’m not. Capt Conkey taught us that in History.”
They came to a fence which extended from horizon to horizon along a cleared lane in the seemingly endless and monotonous ironbarks. On the other side there was an abrupt change to short, knee-high grass. “Obviously the next cattle property,” Graham commented.
As they walked their eyes kept searching for vehicles or the aircraft. A few beef cattle were seen in the distance and from time to time kangaroos would spring up and bound away. Graham ke
pt looking for signs of the vehicle track but in the end they didn’t see it until they were almost on it. The ground was so flat the road was hidden in the grass. It was just two rutted wheel tracks.
The dark line of trees marking the Bunyip grew more and more distant. The three cadets were more than a kilometre from it when they crossed the track, taking care to leave no bootprints. The country remained the same: scattered ironbarks, short grass, occasional dead logs or termite nests and a few small bushes. It made a change to come to a different soil type, from red clay to grey sand - and a thin belt of stunted little trees with grey- green leaves. Then it was back into the open again.
Graham forced the pace. They were all sweating and he was glad they had left their packs. He was aiming at a kilometre every twelve minutes - 5km in an hour and in this open country he was confident they were doing this but there were few features against which to check their progress. At the end of an hour he allowed them to halt. They stopped in the shade of a large ironbark amongst a few bushes. They had a drink and loosened their clothing. All were red in the face.
“Wish there was a bloody breeze,” muttered Halyday, flapping his open shirt to cool himself. Graham kept a strict eye on the time and after five minutes urged them up. The whole rest only lasted ten minutes before they were walking again. Sweat made his hands slippery on the rifle, and soaked his shirt. The damp cloth chafed at arm pits and groin. The salt in the perspiration made his eyes sting and tasted on his lips. The walk began to take on the features of a nightmare - endless effort and getting nowhere.
They were hungry as well as thirsty but Graham didn’t want to waste time eating a meal so they nibbled biscuits and chocolate as they trudged along. Ever since he had learned the crooks had captured Miss McEwen he had felt impelled to rush to her help.
A thicker belt of trees appeared ahead: paperbarks and she-oaks marking a creekline. It took nearly twenty minutes of slogging before they reached it. It had a typical bed of dry sand but it was much cooler in the shade near a lone pandanus palm struggling for existence. Damper Creek according to the map. They had crossed a couple of much smaller rivulets but their alignment had not matched. A quick compass bearing checked that. The others stopped and Graham made everyone drink but would not let them sit. After two minutes they were moving again.
Now there was an almost imperceptible climb, with a faint horizon visible under the tree canopy over a kilometre ahead. That matched the map. Graham checked the time. It was almost 1430. ‘3km to go at the most to the nearest end of the hill,’ he told himself. They were a little behind time but still going well enough.
As they reached the wide, flat crest of the rise Whaleback Hill became visible as a grey- blue shadow through the trees. That cheered them up. ‘At least we can see our objective,’ Graham thought. They came to another barbed wire fence running ruler straight as far as the eye could see. They didn’t linger but all lined up and crossed together, rather than one after the other.
Then it was a long, gentle down slope and another line of darker timber denoting another creekline. Their course took them down into a wide dip full of knee high green grass and very large widely-spaced ironbarks and ghost gums and then across a sandy flat to the creek. Pandanus Creek. It was dry too. There were in fact plenty of pandanus palms but just as many of the needle-leafed she-oaks. Some cattle were grazing on the far side. These began moving off at their approach. Graham halted so as not to alarm the beasts. The cattle stopped a few hundred metres off to turn and stare, so the cadets resumed their trek.
As they came up the gentle slope they could see Whaleback Hill plainly ahead. It was no longer indistinct blue shadows but had become large and stark - a rugged pile of black and orange granite studded with trees. As they were approaching the hill towards the whale’s ‘tail’ it just looked like a huge rock pile.
The soil changed again, back to sand with only a sparse carpet of grass and stunted acacias. At 1500hrs Graham stopped to consult his map and ordered another drink. By then all three were flushed with the heat and it took an effort to swallow.
“Don’t sit. We need more water. We’ll do a bit of a detour. The river’s only a kilometre or so over there and I want to look at it anyway. Let’s go.” Graham knew there was a road from the Brendan Creek mine to Charters Towers and although it was new and not shown on the map logic said it had to be somewhere in that area.
So they angled left, almost due west, with the sun in their eyes. The ground was now dotted with a litter of exposed bed rock, mostly in parallel ridges of small boulders. The trees were nearly all a gnarled dwarf acacia and the grass, what there was, had changed to a withered brown.
The vehicle track reappeared, still just two dusty wheel ruts. The cadets crossed it as it went down a long open slope dotted with ant hills. Their route took them across a small, dry creek with the remains of an earth dam built by gold miners the previous century, then over a deeply eroded flat of grey clay with clumps of prickly green bushes.
After walking up a slight rise onto a sandy levee bank covered with a scatter of tall trees and green bushes they saw the Bunyip again, its familiar flood plain choked with trees and rubber vines and its mostly dry bed full of masses of grey boulders and flood bent trees.
And a real surprise. To their right a vast sheet of water glittered in the afternoon sun. It was impounded by a dam or weir of rough concrete. The water stretched for several kilometres out of sight. A graded gravel road came out of the bush on the far bank, angled down the steep slope to cross over just downstream of the weir then climbed the bank near them.
The cadets made their way cautiously forward from bush to bush but the area was deserted. The road reached the top of the bank just near the end of the concrete weir and went inland directly towards Whaleback Hill, which from side on did indeed look like a whale - a steep northern end, precipitous and rugged sides, fairly level top then a gentle dip out of sight among the trees with a slight rise to a conical pile of rock at the tip of the tail.
They came to a new barbed wire fence and rolled under. There was a sign at the top of the road cutting. It read:
NORMAC PTY LTD
BRENDAN CREEK MINE
KEEP OUT - TRESPASSERS PROSECUTED
The cadets ignored this. They crouched amongst bushes and carefully looked each way, then crossed the road. Tully came last with a small bush and brushed over their tracks. Graham led them down to the water near the end of the dam.
Near the bank the impounded water was full of reeds and slime and it stank. Dozens of ducks and pelicans floated on it. These saw the boys and there was a flurry of wings and honking as the waterbirds moved further upstream. Graham was annoyed they had been detected as the birds could easily betray their presence. The cadets crouched among overhanging leaves and took turns at washing their faces and arms, filling their waterbottles and drinking, two always on guard. The water stank of rotting vegetation and was full of small fish and tadpoles but Graham made the others drink.
It was 1520 by then and he was impatient. The afternoon was slipping away. He led the way up the bank and headed directly towards Whaleback Hill. This led them parallel to the gravel road, across a small power line clearing and a series of washouts and small gullies which the road skirted. As they walked they heard the helicopter. In a moment they were flat behind trees or bushes.
The machine came into view from behind Whaleback Hill, flying south towards Bunyip Bend. It stayed low and soon vanished in that direction. That worried Graham as they hadn’t seen or heard it arrive. He wondered if it meant that Bargheese knew his plan, perhaps by torturing Kenny’s group, and was even now waiting, setting a trap? After a few moments he shook his head. ‘No, I didn’t tell Cpl Kenny where we were really going.’ He shrugged. ‘Anyway, I’m not turning back.’
He also realized they had seen no further sign of the light plane. That strengthened his resolve to climb Whaleback Hill. Captain Conkey had drummed into them that armies fought to gain and retain the high groun
d for observation. ‘And that’s what I need - a good OP to get the lie of the land,’ Graham told himself.
After another hundred metres they came to the junction of the gravel road and the vehicle track back to ‘Canning Park’. At that point the gravel road turned left and went northwards, running parallel to the river and Whaleback Hill and about midway between them. It was only about 700 metres from the river to the top of the hill according to the map.
They crossed the gravel road and headed up a gentle slope through more lines of small boulders and scattered dwarf acacias. Underfoot there was more sand and dry leaves than grass and the trees were just high enough to walk under. Whaleback Hill began to loom massively over them as they approached. Graham angled a bit to the right where a dipping strata of granite came down to the plain.
It was up this they began to climb. The hill was almost devoid of grass, just a jumble to rocks with trees growing out of cracks, and a few light green bushes. It was surprisingly easy to go up, stepping from rock to rock and in a few minutes they were above the trees and could see a vast area of undulating plain. Half way up they stopped to get their breath. Graham realized that the hill only looked big. There was a faint breeze and a few small cumulus clouds with dark shadowy undersides drifted across a brassy sky.
It was 1535 and they were now behind Graham’s self-imposed timetable. He pushed them on up a bare granite ledge as wide as a road. This angled up with a steep drop on one side and a cliff on the other. The ledge led them, after a few minutes, to the highest part of the hill. Here there was a flat about a hundred paces wide from side to side of the hill. The crest went gently up into a semi-circular basin lined with boulders with small rocky knolls on either side. There was a good scattering of small trees.
The Cadet Under-Officer Page 28