The Cadet Under-Officer

by Christopher Cummings

  The aircraft was forgotten for the moment. Graham saw camouflaged faces laughing ahead amongst the trees and joined Cpl Sheehan and Halyday. They cheered aloud as another drum erupted, spewing flames over a wide area of grass. Smoke billowed in a dense cloud, drifting slowly across and along the airfield on a slight breeze.

  Graham was both thrilled and appalled by what they had achieved. All in twenty minutes! He felt a sick gnawing of worry at the legal consequences of all their destruction but felt better when he realized they not only had documentary proof but had the illegal immigrants as well. ‘They aren’t exactly prisoners but as long as we hold Whaleback Hill and the roadblock they aren’t going anywhere,’ he reasoned. He couldn’t imagine them walking off through the bush in the dark, even if they knew where they were or what was going on.

  The sounds of shouting and crying (women’s voices?) from the hangar and shed indicated the crooks had a personnel problem.

  Cpl Sheehan pointed that way and grinned. “Some unhappy customers wanting a refund I think,” he commented. Graham grinned too, despite feeling sick at heart.

  Hodgins joined them, eyebrows and the fringe of his hair all singed off and fingers burnt. He was almost speechless with excitement and shock. “B...b...b...bloody hell! I th...thought, thought I’d cooked my goose then!” he got out at last.

  “Bloody good effort,” Graham said. Then he turned and stared into the bush. The aircraft’s engines were spluttering in the distance at the far end of the runway.

  Halyday shook his head. “That doesn’t sound very healthy, you must have..” he began.

  “Got him,” Cpl Sheehan finished. The aero engines cut out. Only the roar of the fire now filled the night.

  “Bloody beauty!” Graham cried. He felt a surge of fierce satisfaction. ‘That mongrel Bargheese isn’t leaving on that plane, not yet anyway!’ he thought.

  Graham was aware, by looking around, that they must be quite visible from the hangar which was only about 200 metres away. The bush all round the airfield was lit up like day and the whole side of Whaleback Hill was harshly exposed by the glare of the flames.

  Crump! Another drum hurtled out onto the runway.

  Hodgins jigged with excitement. “There was fuel everywhere. The place was soaked in it,” he explained. “They’d opened some drums to refuel the chopper and they were still open so I just pushed them over, and a few had bullet holes in them.”

  The helicopter! Graham felt sick. He looked at the inferno of flames and smoke billowing up from blazing fuel drums. ‘I didn’t think of that!’ He hoped the court would be lenient. “Struth! I forgot the helicopter,” he said.

  “It wasn’t there. They pushed it to the hangar just before dark,” Halyday said.

  Graham sighed with relief. “We’re a bit exposed here. Come on. Let’s go back up the hill.”

  “Shouldn’t we go some other way to fool them?” Hodgins asked.

  “I think they know we are there,” Graham said and the others laughed. “Safety catches on.” They checked their weapons and set off in single file. The stench of burning fuel had reached them and Graham became aware of frightened birds calling out. A wallaby bounded away to the left.

  As they went slowly up the hill, the excitement draining out of them with the steep climb, they got a good view of the fire. The grass had caught fire and flames were spreading outward in a circle but it was patchy and dying out. There simply wasn’t enough grass and Graham doubted if it would spread to become a bush fire.

  As they neared the top they got a sight of the twin engine aircraft. Graham could just see a white object with the flames reflecting on Perspex but it was a good kilometre away to the north and no details could be made out. The main thing was that it was still there and its motors hadn’t restarted.

  By the time they reached the top of the hill the fire had subsided to a few small patches and lots of smoke. Margaret and a very upset and angry Lt McEwen met them.

  Lt McEwen, hands on hips, shook her head. “I’ll say this for you CUO Kirk, when you do things you don’t do things by half!” she snapped sharply. Her worries now gave place to anger. It had been the high spot of Hodgins’ life but it had been a dreadful half-hour for her. When she had realized Graham was going down the hill she had struggled to her feet and stumbled over the rocks, calling on them to stop, but she had been too late. She was appalled at the risks, being very conscious of her ‘Duty of Care’.

  Margaret had also been appalled and now just wanted to hold Graham with relief but didn’t dare.

  Cactus diverted Lt McEwen’s anger by butting in. “I’ll bet that pilot nearly wet himself when you put that bullet into his engine CUO Kirk,” he said with a laugh.

  Lt McEwen rounded on him. “You keep quiet and stay out of this Cadet Carleton!” she snapped.

  Cactus was too thick skinned to shut up. He went on, “And them bloody illegal refugees or whatever. Did you hear ‘em jibber and carry on! When that fuel dump exploded I bloody near crapped meself, I tell ya!”

  Graham had to smile. “Shut up Cactus. You get back to your sentry post,” he said, a bit too battered emotionally to take it all in. He turned to face Lt McEwen. There was still enough light from the dying fires to see faces clearly and he saw she had been crying. “It’s alright Miss. No-one’s been hurt and we’ve stopped that plane. Bargheese is still trapped and so are a bunch of illegal immigrants. I don’t know where Morrow or Anderson are but I’ll bet Mr Bargheese isn’t a very happy man at the moment and I’ll bet some of his gang aren’t too happy either. I think it’s time for negotiations.”

  “What do you mean? Negotiations?” she said, feeling suddenly drained.

  “Hit ‘em again Miss, while they’re hot. Harass them a bit, keep them worried and off balance so that their organization comes apart under stress. With a few good threats thrown in,” Graham replied.

  The psychology was right but human lives were at risk. Lt McEwen shook her head. “No. I don’t like it. We are just going to pack up and get out of here to somewhere safe before any cadet gets hurt,” she replied.

  “But Miss, two of my cadets are prisoners. I want to set them free.”

  “That is a job for trained police negotiators,” Lt McEwen replied. She had read about the ‘joy of battle’ and now recognized the intense emotions gripping the young CUO. It both appalled and fascinated her. Desperate to avert a tragedy she shook her head. “We are moving out so pack up now,” she ordered.

  “What if a couple of us come back once the others are all safe?” Graham replied.

  “No.”

  “Aw Miss! We’ve got them on the run. All we need to do is frighten them a bit more and annoy them,” Graham pleaded.

  Lt McEwen suddenly felt dizzy and the world spun. She reached out. Graham grabbed her. “Sit down Miss. You aren’t well.”

  “Maybe not, but I am still the lieutenant and you must obey orders,” she replied. She was helped back over the stones to the small clearing. Here she sat down with her back to the rocks.

  Graham persisted. The last thing he wanted to do was withdraw. “I will have to go and collect Sgt Dunning’s patrol first Miss. Can I just harass the crooks a bit before we pull back?”

  Lt McEwen sighed and shook her throbbing head. “How would you do it?”

  “Just by yelling out from the bush - not by going in where we could be seen. I’ll think of a safe plan, Miss, then we can discuss it. But first I need a drink and then I will work out our navigation and orders to withdraw.”

  Lt McEwen nodded, relieved that Graham was apparently going to obey. “We must organize getting the police too,” she said.

  Cpl Sheehan chuckled. “I reckon every copper from here to Birdsville would have heard the bang when that bloody fuel dump blew up,” he said.

  Graham grinned. “Let’s hope so, or you might be in for a long walk. Ok Cpl Lake, keep your sentries alert. Let’s try the radio. Hodgins. Hodgins!” Hodgins was busy recounting his exploits to LCpl Walsh.
r />   Walsh pointed. “Sir, we seen a torch down at that plane just then,” he said.

  “Thanks. Nothing we can do about it Walshy. Come on Hodgins,” Graham replied. They made their way over to the radio and sat.

  Halyday shook his head. “Gees them insulators are hard to hit sir. Took me four shots to bust one,” he said.

  Cpl Sheehan nodded. “Gave me a real fright too. Lot of sparks too - when the power earthed down that steel pole I suppose,” he said.

  ‘Oh Blast! Another safety hazard,’ Graham thought. Then he groaned with annoyance when he saw that he had bumped over the cup of coffee he’d left there. It was only 2120hrs. ‘It is going to be a long night,’ he thought.

  CHAPTER 36

  MIDNIGHT ON BUNYIP RIVER

  Lt McEwen was helped back to her stretcher. She lay down with a moan and closed her eyes. The stove was relit and water put on to heat. Graham discovered he had emptied three of his four waterbottles already and he still felt thirsty. Stretching out aching legs he closed eyes which seemed hot and full of grit. He badly wanted to drop off to sleep but by an effort of will kept himself awake. After ten minutes rest he gratefully accepted a mess tin of hot soup from LCpl Halyday.

  That revived him. He followed it with a helping of meatballs in gravy. LCpl Halyday had also heated that for him and then prepared another cup of strong, sweet coffee. The rest and the food seemed to make an immediate difference. Graham smiled and relaxed again for a few more minutes, listening to the quiet chatter of the others.

  The CUO then forced himself to serious thinking. ‘I can’t afford the luxury of sleep - not yet anyway,’ he told himself. His main problem was how to contact the police. He knew he was the best person to go but there was no way he was going to leave his platoon. ‘Not when it is in contact with the enemy,’ he thought. ‘I will have to send someone else - two or three people in fact for safety’s sake.’ That presented a leadership problem. It couldn’t be Roger. The sergeant was a good friend and capable at his job but he was tubby and not all that fit and had looked worn out at the end of the day’s walk. Graham also valued his leadership at the roadblock, which was a position he didn’t want to give up till he had to.

  That left the two corporals to choose from as Lt McEwen was too hurt for such a gruelling march. But which corporal? Either way there were risks as the one that went would have to face the unknown dangers back at the company bivouac while the one that stayed would have to help in any action against the crooks. In his heart Graham realized it wasn’t a choice. With a flash of insight he realized there was no way he would send Margaret Lake off into the dark unknown.

  It wasn’t that he didn’t have faith in her ability to do the job. He knew she had the guts and determination as well as the knowledge. It was that he had just realized how much he really cared for her. She had been a good friend for five years now and had shared quite a few adventures, although she didn’t really seem to enjoy them. Graham stirred uneasily as he admitted to himself she was much more than just a good friend. She was in love with him, which was why she was a cadet anyway. He couldn’t quite bring himself to admit he loved her. But it made him aware he didn’t really like Elizabeth at all.

  So Pat Sheehan it had to be. The fittest ones to go with him would be Halyday, Livingstone and Tully. Graham thought for a few minutes and decided he wanted Halyday here. That would leave three at the roadblock while three went for help. Having made his decision he put off giving orders until they had tried the radio again.

  It was just on 2200hrs. Mess tins were cleaned as well as they could be (they needed more water) and packed away and the stove put out. Hodgins and Halyday then began experimenting with the radio at Graham’s direction, using a shaded torch to enable them to see what they were doing. It was a lovely clear night with a million stars twinkling in a 180 degree arc from horizon to horizon. From time to time a meteorite or piece of space junk blazed briefly as it burned up in the atmosphere.

  They tried calling Company HQ on the normal frequency four times. Then they switched to the alternate frequency and tried again. There was no answer.

  Hodgins shrugged. “The set seems ok sir, and there’s no atmospherics. It’s a clear night - no thunderstorms or power lines or things like that. We should be able to talk to people a hundred ‘k’s away on a night like this from this hill top,” he complained.

  “Try the Army Training Area Safety Net,” Graham suggested. They were a good 50km away from the nearest ‘retrans’ station in the army’s High Range Training Area but it was worth a try. But they got no result. Then they began working their way from one end of the frequency spectrum to the other, clicking the tuning dials one, then calling.

  All they got was the powerful jabber of Taiwanese fishing boats somewhere off the coast. These made no answer and continued speaking in what they presumed was Chinese.

  “Bloody foreigners!” Hodgins muttered.

  “Don’t be so prejudiced Cadet Hodgins,” Lt McEwen chided.

  “Yes Miss. Sorry Miss,” Hodgins said but he didn’t sound as though he agreed.

  Graham got Hodgins to hold his torch while he penned a note for Cpl Sheehan to take. Then he discussed his plan quietly with Lt McEwen and she agreed, although she didn’t like it. “I just want us all out of here and safe,” she said.

  “Yes Miss,” Graham replied, trying to hide his real feelings.

  “You aren’t keen on this idea either, are you Graham,” she said. She couldn’t see his face clearly in the dim torchlight but his tone of voice conveyed it.

  “No Miss I’m not. I have the feeling I’m slowly sending off small group after small group and that I’ll end up with nothing left of my platoon. There’s a risk either way but I just feel uneasy about it. I’m not even sure if they are up to the walk. It would make about 30km for them in one day; more for Livingstone, nearer 40 as he was out with me last night when we walked from Black Knoll to Bunyip Bend and back (‘Was it only last night!’ he marvelled.)”

  Graham went on. “If I could be sure the company knew where we were I wouldn’t send anyone,” he said. He then related how he’d sent the coded message in veiled speech about their objective being the ‘Black Pig’s Lair’ but although Cpl Henning, the Signals NCO, had received the message and acknowledged it Graham didn’t know what had become of it as Bargheese and his gang were somewhere around at the time.

  Lt McEwen nodded. “Does the OC know the story now?” she asked.

  “Yes Miss, I reckon he does. I sent the CSM back to tell him and he used the right code words to warn us.” Graham thought for a minute then went on, “I reckon someone back there must have told either the army or the police by now. I don’t think three or four crooks could stop them once it got dark. I mean, how do you guard a hundred prisoners in the bush at night?”

  They were silent for a minute. Graham went on: “Also Miss I posted those letters last night. They would have been picked up by the mail van this morning and would have been in Townsville this afternoon. The one to the Federal Police might already have been delivered. If not it will be sometime tomorrow morning. We can hold on till then.”

  “So what should we do?” Lt McEwen asked. She felt dizzy and exhausted and was angry with herself for not being up to such a walk. She didn’t like the bush at night because her eyes weren’t very good in the dark but despite that she would have had a go if her common sense hadn’t told her she wouldn’t make it.

  Graham looked thoughtful. “I’d like to wait a bit Miss. Even if I send Cpl Sheehan and some others they need a rest before they go. In about an hour I’ll go down to get more water and give orders to Sgt Dunning at the roadblock and I might do a bit of a recon of the enemy camp.”

  Lt McEwen agreed with most of that but didn’t like the idea of more risks and said so. “We should just go now,” she repeated.

  Graham nodded and gave a vague reply, then spoke to the two cadets still patiently working at the radio. “Ok you two, give it up. Put it back onto our normal
frequency and give it a try, then go back to quarter hour checks.”

  They did this. Hodgins gave one last call. In reply came Cpl Henning’s voice, loud and clear. “Four Four this is Four. Reading yum mum um.....m..crackle.” To their intense annoyance the signal faded into a buzzing and spluttering. They tried again. A moment after Hodgins released the pressel switch and the ‘squelch’ began it cut out and there was silence for half a minute with a couple of crackles.

  Hodgins shook his head. “He’s transmitting but we aren’t receiving,” he said, fiddling with the dials.

  Graham’s fingers twitched with frustration but he stopped himself from interfering. “Do you think he’s receiving us?” he asked.

  “Could be. Good chance I’d say sir, otherwise he wouldn’t have come on the air like that.”

  The radio fell silent with a slight hum emanating from time to time, with an occasional crackle.

  “Transmitting again,” Hodgins commented. He listened intently. “Can’t make out any words though.”

  Graham pulled out the note he had penned for Cpl Sheehan to take. It was a long message of over a hundred words. “Here Hodg. Send this SITREP, in clear, including the Grid Reference; and repeat it every ten minutes for an hour.” It was a hope anyway.

  The sound of laboured snoring attracted Graham’s attention and he saw that Lt McEwen was sound asleep, her mouth wide open. She looked so frail and battered that Graham was moved by deep concern. He felt her forehead again and was relieved to find her temperature was normal.

  Margaret’s voice, sharp with urgency, made him start up. “Sir, vehicle lights heading out of the camp towards the roadblock,” she cried as she came stumbling over the rocks.

  “Take it slow Cpl Lake, there’s a cliff there,” Graham called back in some alarm. He and the cadets with him rose and scrambled over the rocks to the edge of the cliff. As they reached the vantage point the echo of shots came rolling over the plain. Lots of shots - a dozen or more. Tiny little pin-points of light sparkled on either side of a large dump truck which was driving slowly towards the roadblock with its headlights and a spotlight lighting up the area. Roger’s group began firing back.