As they got closer Graham heard the vehicles start to move. ‘Where are they going and who is in them?’ he wondered. Through the intervening bush he saw the faint flicker of headlights. ‘They aren’t coming back this way,’ he decided.
The patrol stopped in the edge of the scattered trees and looked out. A hundred metres to their left front, on the end of the dirt runway stood the twin engine plane. It had no lights and there was neither sign nor sound of movement. It was hard to tell in the half-light but the door was open and it looked as though some other panels as well. Another hundred paces beyond it, on the far side of the runway, were the two vehicles. These were now one behind the other. The front vehicle was a Landcruiser. In the light of the headlights two figures could be seen working on the boundary fence on the edge of the bush. Graham noted that neither man was armed and that they had cut one of the fence panels.
‘They look like pilots,’ Graham thought, seeing the long black trousers and white shirts with black epaulets. The rear vehicle appeared to also have two men in it but he could not be sure. “They must be cutting the fence,” he said. His heart leapt into his mouth and he felt dreadfully anxious at the thought of Anderson and Morrow being taken away as hostages.
“Looks like they’re bugging out,” Cpl Sheehan suggested.
Graham agreed. It certainly did. ‘The other vehicle could be the white utility, or Miss McEwen’s car and the people could be the pilots and mechanic and any security people from the airfield,’ Graham reasoned. Or had Bargheese and his crew walked through the bush around Mast Hill? Were the hostages in the vehicles? And where were they going?
Even as he thought this Graham saw the two men move back to the front vehicle and climb in. A moment later it began moving forward. ‘Damn! They are getting away!’ his mind cried. Desperately he tried to think of some plan to stop the vehicles but no sensible one came to mind. Running across the open ground of the airfield to try to catch moving vehicles was obviously both too risky and futile. All he could do was watch helplessly as the two vehicles drove through the gap in the fence and off into the bush.
Cpl Sheehan knelt next to him. “Where are they going?” he asked.
From memory Graham knew there was nothing that way for a long way. Feeling defeated and frustrated he took out his map and pencil torch. He and Cpl Sheehan crouched behind a log and studied the map. Graham saw that there was nothing but flat open bush for twenty or so kilometres before coming onto the Yabby Waterhole track, a branch of which would eventually put them onto the Mingela - Dotswood road.
After studying the map for a minute Graham chewed his lip. “Can’t see any big watercourses they’d have to cross,” he said. The country was mostly flat with a few small creeks draining each way. It was all savannah woodland and no real obstacle to the vehicles if driven carefully. “They are probably following a vehicle track along a fence line,” he added. Putting his torch away he stood up. The headlights could be seen flickering amongst the trees and were already several hundred metres north east of the airfield.
For a minute or so Graham just stood there feeling sick and angry. Not knowing who was in the vehicles was the worst. Then his gaze shifted to aircraft. “I wonder what happened to the plane?” he said.
“Want me to go and check sir?” Cpl Sheehan asked.
“I will. Cover me,” Graham whispered.
Cpl Sheehan shook his head. “No sir. You cover us. Your rifle’s better. Halyday and I will do it this time,” he said. Graham accepted this. He was so tired he just wanted to lie down and his leg muscles were trembling. ‘I’ll be getting cramps next,’ he worried.
The two scouting cadets went off to the left through the trees and then moved forward into the open fifty paces apart. They did it by ‘leap frogging’- one down covering while the other moved. Their approach was at right angles to Graham and they approached the aircraft from its tail. In the half light they were hard to see at that distance. Graham held his rifle ready but had no sense of excitement. He believed the aircraft was abandoned. Standing still allowed the perspiration from the walk to cool and he shivered in the chill air.
The light became rapidly clearer. One minute he couldn’t see his foresight, the next he could. ‘Come on you guys, hurry up!’ he fretted, aware that time was slipping away. Thankfully he watched the two walk back, their unhurried gait a clear indication of what they would say.
Cpl Sheehan reported. “No one there sir. Starboard engine is riddled. There’s some sort of hydraulic fluid dripping everywhere and a litter of tools and spare parts. They’ve changed the left tyre but there’s nothing in the plane. You hit her at least five times boss,” he said.
“Ok, let’s get back,” Graham replied. ‘Time to pull out,’ he thought, but with real reluctance. He actually wanted to go via Mast Hill to check the enemy’s camp. ‘That would not be far out of our way,’ he calculated. He put on his safety catch and turned back into the bush. It was 05:20 and he could now plainly see both Mast Hill and Whaleback Hill. They were taking on a pinkish hue as the flush of dawn reached them. Visibility extended to normal limits.
Daybreak had arrived, and with it the hour of decision.
CHAPTER 39
A DESPERATE HOUR
Gunshots!
The four cadets were still about three hundred metres from Mast Hill. They quickened their pace and Graham felt a stab of aguish at having miscalculated. Then more shots sounded. These were muted and Graham thought they must be coming from over beyond both hills. ‘Are they coming from the platoon RV?’ he wondered. Upset over possibly having made some wrong decisions and for being in the wrong place he broke into a run.
More shots- and they came from Mast Hill! ‘Those aren’t fired towards us,’ Graham decided. ‘They sound as though they are coming from low on the side facing Whaleback Hill. Who on earth are they firing at?’ he wondered. ‘All our people should have been off Whaleback Hill half an hour ago.’
Graham got a mental image of the enemy not only being back on Mast Hill but actually in between him and Whaleback Hill. He was horrified and quickened his pace from a fast run, to a sprint, shearing off to the left to keep away from Mast Hill which now represented a dire threat. The others followed, more gunshots in the distance adding urgency to their movements.
Graham angled into a slight fold which led down to join Dry Creek between the two hills. As he ran he kept looking at Mast Hill, now on his right. He got a glimpse of movement- a blue shirt! One of the enemy was in some boulders half way between Mast Hill and Dry Creek!
The light ‘snap’ of a .22 came to him, then the boom of a shotgun. Graham looked up at Whaleback Hill, slowing to a gasping walk and wiping perspiration from his eyes as he did. There was no sign of movement on the slopes. ‘Is that Margaret firing?’ he wondered. That both puzzled and worried him. ‘If it is what is she doing there? She should have withdrawn with the others.’
Another movement in the boulders up to his right caught his eyes. A second man in a blue shirt had come round on their side of a rock and was looking up at Whaleback Hill. The .22 fired again and Graham became sure it was Margaret. Then she fired again. ‘She has no chance of hitting with a .22 at that range,’ he thought, knowing it was about 500 metres. ‘But it has attracted our attention.’
The two security men were obviously only part of a larger group as more shots from over the other side of Whaleback Hill testified. To Graham’s dismay they sounded closer to Whaleback Hill than he was. ‘And they are in between my group and Roger’s at the RV,’ he fretted. Once again he began running as fast as he could, heading straight for Whaleback Hill. So far the two men hadn’t seen them; were looking the other way. They were at least 200 metres away and Graham was in a quandary what to do as he didn’t want a real gun battle. The problem was that if his group went further from the enemy they came closer to the airfield. The hangar and shed were already visible through the trees. ‘And there might be more enemy there,’ Graham thought. Anxious not to be caught between two
groups of enemy he kept running.
The problem was solved by the enemy. From up on Mast Hill came shrill shouts of warning. Bargheese was up there, and he had seen them. He fired a pistol twice and screamed: “Look behind you, you fools! You are being attacked from behind!” The security two men turned and looked. Graham saw their pale faces swivel and eyes goggle in the morning light. Then they scrambled in among the boulders in haste.
A shot snapped past Graham. He went to ground and so did his group, all diving behind small trees which he knew offered pitiful cover from high-velocity bullets. Now desperate to keep his people safe Graham shouted orders, then carefully aimed and fired. He was scared now, but deadly serious. This time he aimed to save his cadets’ lives. He fired and saw the heavy bullet strike the boulders very close to one of the men, who ducked.
The other three cadets got up and ran. 50 metres on Halyday stopped just as Graham fired again. As soon as he heard Halyday’s M16 fire he was up and running. A shot struck a tree somewhere near Graham and fear gave him speed. He passed behind Halyday who fired a second shot, then ran into the top end of a small washout. Graham passed Cpl Sheehan who also began firing careful aimed shots. The washout became a gully and once in it Graham was half hidden from the rocks.
Gasping with fear and excitement Graham ran behind Hodgins and on for another fifty paces, almost to Dry Creek. He was aware of shots from behind him and from the hill. At the creek junction he dived behind some rocks on the bank of the gully and looked up the slope. A frightened looking Halyday was already running and passed behind Cpl Sheehan who fired, then also ran as Hodgins took over the covering fire. Graham aimed then relaxed a moment to calm himself. ‘I can’t aim straight after that run,’ he thought. It was something he had read about but now experienced. He fired anyway and heard the bullet strike the rocks. Halyday scrambled past, crouching in the low gully. Graham worked the bolt, flicking the empty case out onto the sand. Then he looked around, trying to keep track of events.
The firing from Whaleback Hill and beyond seemed to have stopped and only one rifle was firing at them from the rocks. There were voices shouting up on Mast Hill. Graham decided his move had inadvertently done some good. ‘The enemy were advancing towards Whaleback Hill and they must think we attacked their left rear,’ he reasoned. He carefully scanned Mast Hill but saw no sign of movement towards them yet. ‘There probably won’t be for a minute or two until the crooks realize what has happened,’ he thought.
Graham fired again, then Halyday, who was now in the bed of Dry Creek. Halyday was so excited he was just rising up to fire and then crouching down. Angry at the waste of ammunition and concerned lest one of the cadets panic and become useless Graham shouted, “Halyday! Slow down and use the bloody sights! Aim man, aim!”
Halyday looked at him and then nodded. To Graham’s relief he did try to shoot properly next time. Cpl Sheehan came scuttling past and Hodgins got up to run.
Graham pointed. “Keep going across Dry Creek Cpl Sheehan and into the rocks at the bottom of the hill,” he called.
Thwack...hmmmmm! A bullet flattened itself on the rock in front of Graham and made him jump. Despite a spasm of pure terror he remembered what his instructor on Corporals Course, old Warrant Officer Bagley, ex-Grenadier Guards with Afghanistan, Iraq and a dozen other wars under his belt had said - win the fire fight – don’t duck or you lose the fire initiative. Overcoming his fear by willpower Graham kept his head up and deliberately sighted and squeezed a shot back. He heard Halyday fire again and then he slid down and began slipping and stumbling down the washout. Excitement began replacing fear.
As he reached Dry Creek Graham knew they had overcome the first crisis. His group was now closer to Whaleback Hill than the enemy and in a good position to take any move in the flank. He crossed the dry bed in two strides, scrambled up a two metre eroded sand slope and began running along a line of scattered boulders. Puffing from the exertion he passed behind Cpl Sheehan, then Hodgins, both of whom fired again.
Despite the risk of being shot in the back at long range Graham went on till he found a pile of rocks which gave a good view of Dry Creek and the slope of Mast Hill in front. It was only fifty metres from the airfield track and a hundred from the bottom of Whaleback Hill near its north east corner. From under cover he checked his cadets. Cpl Sheehan looked quietly serious. Halyday was excited but obviously scared. Hodgins was red in the face but looked grimly determined. ‘They are great cadets,’ he thought.
As he crouched there Graham again remembered the possibility of enemy attack from the airfield. When Hodgins arrived he had him face that way. Graham then wiped sweat from his eyes and peered through a cleft. He had some difficulty in seeing which pile of rocks the security men were in. Aiming carefully he fired at where he thought they were, then rammed in another clip of five rounds. Halyday came running up and went on twenty paces before stopping to face down Dry Creek. There was no more firing.
Cpl Sheehan ran up and joined Graham. “Well, that was a bit hectic! What now?” he asked.
Graham pointed behind him. “We withdraw around the bottom of Whaleback Hill on the eastern side,” he replied. He pulled out a waterbottle to soothe his parched throat before continuing. “We then climb up in the same place we did after raiding the airfield last night.” In his mind he considered the easier option of going west across the front of the snout to the western side to be much too dangerous. ‘Crossing the enemy’s front with the direct withdrawal route blocked by a big rocky hill is not a good idea,’ he reasoned.
“Kirk!” It was Bargheese.
“Hold your fire,” Graham said. The others nodded and checked their weapons.
“Kirk! I want to talk to you,” Bargheese shouted. The Indian was somewhere in the rocks the other side of Dry Creek only a hundred metres away but Graham could not see him. ‘Is it a trick?’ he wondered. Were other enemy moving on his left flank? Was Roger still in position or had he withdrawn? Suddenly Graham laughed. The others turned to look at him wondering what he found so funny.
Graham grinned with savage satisfaction. Looking at the others he said, “The mongrel is still here! We’ve still got him trapped and he knows it and he wants to negotiate. He didn’t drive off in those two vehicles.”
Feeling almost exultant Graham tried to calculate how many men Bargheese possibly still had available. Five or six at most. He raised his voice. “Yes, Bargheese, I’m listening.”
“Kirk! I warn you again. Go away or I will kill a hostage. I will shoot one in front of the office in ten minutes to show I mean it if you don’t move now.”
The man sounded angry enough to mean it. Graham felt defeat. ‘We will have to pull back. I can’t take the risk,’ he thought. He cast around in his mind for an answer, then yelled back: “I’ll do a deal Bargheese. You let the girl go so we can see and when she is safe we will move.”
“No Kirk. I will only let the girl go if you give me the brown notebook.”
The brown notebook! It didn’t matter. They had copied it. “Ok Bargheese, I’ll give you the brown notebook in exchange for the girl. Then when you let the other cadet go we will leave so we aren’t blocking any route out of here.”
They began to bargain on when and how, neither trusting the other. Bargheese was clearly impatient. ‘No doubt he and his henchmen want to start putting distance between them and the mine before the arrival of the police,’ Graham thought. ‘That has to be some time during the day.’
“Give it to me now!” Bargheese demanded.
Graham shouted back: “I haven’t got it Bargheese. Lt McEwen has it and I’ll have to go and get it. It will take twenty minutes while I walk up the hill and back down. When I do you walk down to the creek between us with the girl. Come unarmed and I will come and meet you and give you the notebook.”
Bargheese wasn’t happy but he agreed.
Graham gave quick instructions to Cpl Sheehan. “Move your section up the hill. We will go south along this side of the hill and then
up where we came down last night to raid the airfield. If there is no-one on top then go down the other side and withdraw to the river bank 200 metres downstream of the weir,” he said.
Cpl Sheehan nodded and began moving his cadets one at a time. Graham waited to cover them and only when he was satisfied they were safely in dead ground did he turn and follow them. Cpl Sheehan made his way quickly along the base of the hill. With every step Graham felt safer as they got further from Mast Hill and the buildings at the airfield. Now that the situation was at a point of decision Graham was gripped by a gnawing anxiety about having his platoon so scattered and he began to fret.
After 200 metres Cpl Sheehan turned right and went straight up the side of the hill. Graham did not follow but turned right and began climbing towards the tip of the snout, all the while looking in all directions for danger. The morning sun was just lighting the top of the hill above him in a rosy golden glow as he began plodding up. As he climbed his emotions changed. ‘I think I have done the best I can,’ he told himself.
As he clambered up over a boulder he saw movement above him. It was Margaret. ‘I was right,’ he thought. But he was also annoyed. ‘I told her to withdraw.’ Despite that he waved and she raised her hand. By then he was shivering from reaction and overexertion.
The bottom of the hill was still in shadow and it was only when he was half way up that Graham came out into the sun’s rays. He paused to get his breath and looked back across the tree tops. ‘I must be plainly visible to Bargheese,’ he thought. Then a movement back near the base of Mast Hill caught his eye. A security man was walking quickly towards the mining camp. ‘To bring the hostages?’ Graham wondered.
The Cadet Under-Officer Page 41