In this he was not wrong, the situation made worse by the fact that the Year 12s would finish at the end of that week and the Year 10s ands 11s at the end of the following. That would leave only the Year 8s and 9s at school during the last week, unless they were part of some school trip. One of the approved school trips covered the army cadets attending the annual promotion courses.
With exams over the school reverted to its normal timetable of 6 periods each day. During the day Willy was informed of his exam results in English and, as he had predicted, the class then began to laboriously dissect the test questions, plus do similar questions to ensure they now got the message and understood.
The main fly in the ointment though wasn’t the schoolwork but not knowing what had happened to Graham and Stephen. Salt was rubbed in Willy’s jealous wounds by Barbara who asked him what had happened. Willy had to admit he did not know. Nor did Roger, who said that Graham was at home but not allowed to speak to anyone.
“Graham’s dad gets back tomorrow afternoon,” Roger added. “I reckon skin and hair will fly then.”
“I hope that it doesn’t mean Captain Kirk won’t support our expedition,” Willy said.
Peter, who had been listening, shook his head. “I doubt it. Captain Kirk made the arrangement with Mr Beck and I can’t see him breaking that contract. Besides, Graham wasn’t going on your first trip anyway. He is going to promo with us.”
“Will he still be allowed to go?” Willy asked.
Peter shrugged. “Don’t know. Hope so.”
Stick asked, “You are going aren’t you Pete?”
“Yes. I am doing the sergeants course.”
“And I’m doing the corporals course,” Roger added proudly.
“So am I,” Willy said, not wanting to be upstaged.
The conversation drifted onto the differences between the promotion courses run by the army cadets and air cadets, each group convinced theirs was the better system. The bell for classes ended the debate, which was, as usual, unresolved.
Tuesday followed a similar pattern except that both Graham and Stephen were at school. “What happened? Tell us the story,” Peter demanded as soon as they arrived.
Graham looked miserable and shook his head. “Sorry. We are not allowed to talk about it to anyone. Please don’t ask.”
“Who said?” Stick asked.
“The police. Drop the subject please,” Graham replied.
To change the subject Peter described the search for the aircraft wreck, with the others adding details. This included a lot of moaning about the rain, the leeches, the wait-a-while and so on.
“Are you going to go up there and have another look?” Graham asked.
Peter looked doubtful and shook his head. When Graham looked at Willy he gave an emphatic shake of the head. “No thanks. I’ve had enough jungle to last me for quite a while.”
That at least caused some laughing and the mood slowly improved. The conversation shifted to rumours about what the Year 12s were planning to do on their last day at school. Over the last few years a tradition had grown up of the ‘Seniors’ doing something unusual on their last day. This time the rumour was that they would be setting electric wires to all the urinals so that when boys went to do a pee they would get an electric shock. Peter dismissed the story as not being technically feasible.
Willy knew that Peter usually got top marks in subjects like Science but he still wasn’t convinced it could not be done. Stick thought it was a great rumour and went off to spread it by telling some of the Year 8s.
During the day Willy learned that he had achieved a Very High in Maths A. That pleased him but he had been reasonably sure he would get a good result so wasn’t surprised. ‘I need V.Hs in all my subjects right through school to be sure of being accepted by the Air Force as a pilot,’ he reminded himself. He knew that many hundreds applied to be pilots but that only a select dozen or so were chosen.
Marjorie was very proud of him and gave him a little hug and kiss on the cheek when he told her, despite the presence of two teachers. They just told her to stop doing that but in such a mild tone it made Willy sure that all the staff thought of him and Marjorie as an old married couple and therefore not worth worrying about. ‘I hope Barbara doesn’t think that,’ he thought.
Marjorie had only achieved ‘Sound’ levels in most of her results, whereas Barbara’s results were either Very High or High. ‘Barbara is just so talented,’ Willy thought, a feeling of wistful adoration and regret surging through him.
Wednesday was similar. The only new things were Graham telling them that his father had returned and was still planning to take Mr Beck’s expedition to Cape York; and the bad news that Declin was still in a coma in hospital and was on ‘Life Support’.
This bothered Willy a lot. On Thursday morning he sought out Graham and asked if there was any change to Declin’s condition. Graham shook his head and muttered ‘no’, before turning and walking away. Willy was sure that was to hide the tears that he had seen spring to the corners of Graham’s eyes. Graham’s appearance worried him too. He looked exhausted and had dark rings under his eyes.
‘The strain must be wearing him down,’ Willy mused. He found Peter and Roger and asked if they had any news. Peter shook his head and said, “No. I’m really worrying about Graham. If he doesn’t get to go on the warrant officers course in two weeks time I am scared he might… might do something.”
The implication struck a chilling cord in Willy. This was turned to deep apprehension when Andrew, who had been listening, added, “So am I. He is having a real fit of the dejections. I am worried he might try to commit suicide.”
That really shocked Willy and the others listening. “He wouldn’t would he?” he asked.
Andrew looked grim and bit his lip, then said, “He might. Two years ago, when he learned that he could never be a naval officer because of his eyesight he tried to.”
“Did he really? What did he do?” Stick asked.
“We were diving at Green Island and he told me he didn’t want to live anymore and that he was going to end it all. He was just going to swim out and let himself drown. I talked him out of it. Then we were in that plane crash on the way home and we ended up in the sea for eighteen hours.”
Willy nodded. “I remember that. It was a float plane wasn’t it?”
“Yes it was,” Andrew answered. “Anyway we had to keep the pilot afloat, and also Graham’s paraplegic friend Ken. Several times Graham said he wanted to give up and didn’t see what it mattered but then he changed his mind and decided he had to stay alive to save his friend. So he did.”
“Is it possible that he might miss out on the warrant officers course?” Willy asked.
“If he is in trouble with the police, probably,” Peter answered.
Another worrying thought then came to Willy. “I suppose this isn’t doing Graham’s romance with Carol much good,” he said.
Carmen, who had been listening in, answered, “You can say that again. She won’t even speak to him. I think that romance is dead.”
That word ‘dead’ sent another chill through Willy. ‘What can I do to help?’ he wondered. But no particular strategy came to mind. It was all very worrying information and Willy felt upset and frustrated at not knowing what to do. It quite spoiled the news of learning that he had achieved V.Hs in both Maths B and Physics.
Later in the day, during the break between two periods when classes were moving from one room to another, Willy saw direct confirmation of Carmen’s words. He was walking with his class across the pathway beside the quadrangle. Graham’s class was ahead of them, straggling as was usual. From the other direction came a Year 10 class- Carol’s. Willy saw Carol hurrying towards them, a bundle of books clutched tightly across her front. Suddenly she saw Graham. Her face appeared to freeze and she turned abruptly and almost scurried back the way she had come. Within seconds she vanished through the ground floor doorway.
Willy got only a glimpse of Graham’s face, e
nough to know that Graham had seen Carol, and long enough to allow the concept of bleak despair to form. ‘Graham is certainly upset over it all,’ he thought. But still no plan of how to help came to Willy’s mind.
Friday brought no change. The only good news for Willy was that he had achieved a V.H. in Geography. Captain Conkey commented that his assignment on coastal landforms on the coast of Cape York Peninsula was excellent work. For Graham the situation seemed worse and his physical appearance showed he was under great strain.
When Willy saw him during the lunch break he shook his head. ‘I hope he doesn’t snap and do something,’ he thought.
But Graham’s possible suicide was not Willy’s only worry. After school he spent two hours scouring the shops looking for inspiration to buy Christmas presents. Given the seriousness of Graham’s predicament it seemed somehow wrong but also brought home to Willy just how confusing life could be. ‘So what do I buy my dad?’ he wondered. His mother was a bit easier and big brother Lloyd could have some new golf balls, and some music and video CDs.
While he was at the Newsagents Willy also collected the latest edition of his aircraft magazine. He quickly flicked through it and was interested to note that there was an article on the wreck of a Japanese ‘Zero’ fighter which had been shot down in New Guinea in 1943 and only found a few months previously. There was also one on Dutch Navy ‘Dornier’ flying boats in the East Indies and Australia during World War 2.
Seeing that reminded him of Jacob van der Heyden and made him want to sit and read the article there and then but by then he was late and had to ride quickly home. Once there he had to rush through the shower and then get dressed in uniform and then have his dinner. After cleaning his teeth and checking his appearance in the mirror he saw that he had a few minutes to wait. To fill them in he picked up the magazine and flicked through the pages. By chance the magazine flicked open at a page with photos of the crashed Japanese fighter. Automatically his eye read the caption under a photo.
‘The paintwork on the underside was in such good condition that it looked as though it had just come from the factory,’ it read. That made him shake his head. ‘That couldn’t be possible,’ he thought. To check he quickly read the page, finding the author’s description. It confirmed the caption. Even after more than sixty years the paint on the surfaces that were protected from the sun and the rain looked as though it had just come from the factory. The author expressed the same surprise and disbelief as Willy had felt but the photos seemed to bear him out. Very clear to see was the blood red roundel of Japan with its white surround and the dark green colour of the wing it was on. Several letters and numbers were also clearly visible.
The idea that there might be more aircraft wrecks in similar condition got Willy’s hopes and imagination going but at that moment his mother called him. He placed the magazine on his bedside table, ready for reading as soon as he got time. His mother then drove him to Air Cadets.
Cadets was all preparation for promotion course in January with drill and lessons on how to navigate, signals and RAAF ‘General Service Knowledge’. Willy enjoyed it all and knew he was feeling well and that he should be happy. During the canteen break he was asked about the search for the plane wreck and then ribbed for not finding it. He joined in the general chatter but without much enthusiasm. Most of the talking he left to Stick and Marjorie.
“So you didn’t find this bomber then?” Noddy sneered.
“No,” Willy admitted.
“Are you lot still going to look for that ‘Beaufighter’ up the Cape during the holidays then?” Noddy asked.
“Yes,” Willy answered. He was then careful not to say more as he didn’t trust Noddy. ‘Someone told Mr Jemmerling our plans and I think it was Noddy,’ he thought. But that made him feel guilty at the injustice of being suspicious without any real proof to back it up.
Noddy now annoyed him further by saying, “I don’t know why you are bothering. There won’t be much left of any wreck after that long.”
“There might be,” Willy retorted. He then described the wreck of the Japanese ‘Zero’ and the photos. Noddy looked very skeptical and said he did not believe it. That needled Willy some more. “Then all I can do is show you the magazine article,” he retorted.
They bickered a bit longer but had to leave the argument unresolved as it was time for the next lesson. But Willy did not forget about it and decided to do some research on the topic. It made him glad they had agreed to help Mr Beck prepare the shed where they were to restore any wrecks they might recover.
That was what he, Stick, Marjorie, Vicki and Noddy did on Saturday. As arranged they drove to Mareeba, clad in work clothes, and were set to work, under the supervision of Norman. The task was to finish erecting a large shed on a concrete slab. Most of the heavy work had been done and Mr Beck would not allow any of them to climb up to do roofing work, or let them use any power tools, so it was mostly carrying, holding things, or cleaning that they were engaged in.
Willy did not really mind and as he worked he plied Norman and Mr Beck with questions about the condition wrecks might be in after lying in jungle, swamp or beach sand for long periods. He learned that World War 2 aircraft wrecks were still being recovered from lakes in North Russia and Finland and that these were often in very good condition.
“Because of the cold and the lack of oxygen in the lake bottom,” Norman explained.
“What about in a mangrove swamp in the tropics?” Willy asked.
Norman shook his head. “Not so good. The heat and salt both cause rotting and corrosion. We helped get an ‘Airacobra’ out of a mangrove swamp up in the Cape a few years ago and the whole bottom was rotted away and the steel parts like the engine were just a mass of rust flakes. Here, pass me that drill,” he said.
Willy went to hand him the drill when he saw two men walk in through the open door of the shed, along with Mrs Beck. His mouth fell open with surprise. “Mr Jemmerling!” he muttered. “Now what is he doing here?”
CHAPTER 15
UNEXPECTED OFFER
Mr Jemmerling saw Willy and smiled. “Hello young William, would you introduce me please.”
That really surprised Willy. He glanced anxiously at Mr Beck and saw that he was looking at Mr Jemmerling with a look of puzzlement. ‘He doesn’t know who he is,’ he deduced. Swallowing to moisten his suddenly dry throat and unsure Willy said, “Mr Beck, this is Mr Jemmerling.”
Mr Beck’s face registered shock and then anger. “Jemmerling! What brings you here sir?” he barked, ignoring Mr Jemmerling’s out-thrust hand.
Mr Jemmerling ignored the insult and casually dropped his hand. “I could say that I am just visiting. I have never seen your collection before sir, but I have heard good reports of it. But actually I also came to make you an offer.”
“An offer?” Mr Beck asked in a voice laden with suspicion.
“Yes, but first I would appreciate a look around if I may,” Mr Jemmerling replied. He held up his hand. “We have paid for our tickets.”
Mr Beck looked a bit baffled and suspicious but then nodded. “Yes, alright. I will show you around myself.”
“Thank you,” Mr Jemmerling replied, adding, “I think it is a good idea to see what others in the business are doing.”
Mr Beck nodded and grunted what could have been agreement. The three men and Mrs Beck then moved away to the main hangar. Norman watched this, then shook his head in amazement. “Jemmerling! Here! As bold as brass.”
“Shouldn’t he be?” Stick asked.
Norman shook his head but said, “He and Dad have had a few disagreements in the past, but apart from that, no.”
“Has he ever been here before?” Willy asked.
Norman shook his head. “No. Never seen him in my life,” he answered.
“Your father didn’t seem to recognize him,” Willy commented.
“No. Even though they’ve been rivals for years he’s never met him before. Well I never, Jemmerling here! I wonder what his offe
r is?” Norman said.
They did not find this out for nearly another hour. The whole group gathered on chairs in the shade for morning tea. Only after drinking a cup of tea and nibbling a biscuit did Mr Jemmerling start to reveal his offer. First he introduced Mr Hobbs, his ‘man’. Then he praised Mr Beck’s collection and, in particular how well the ‘Airacobra’ had been restored and maintained.
Willy sat at the back and observed, noting that Mr Beck was accepting the praise with grudging acceptance mingled with caution. Mr Jemmerling then drained his cup and brushed crumbs off his white shirt. After looking around at the group he said, “The offer is this. I need a local guide who can show me where the aircraft wrecks in North Queensland are, the ones that are known about that is, and I wondered if you would accept the task. In return I will give you a weekend flight up to Thursday Island and back, visiting some of the wrecks along the way.”
“A weekend?” Mr Beck queried, obviously unsure of how to react.
“Yes. We would go in my restored ‘Catalina’ Pterodactyl. It is possible to go up and back in one day but that leaves no time for sightseeing, so I thought an overnight trip next weekend. What do you say?” Mr Jemmerling asked.
Mr Beck still looked wary. “Why me?”
Mr Jemmerling smiled disarmingly. “Because I have been flying around looking and haven’t had much luck. My enquiries inform me that you are the expert in this area so I thought we could do something of mutual benefit,” he explained.
“What exactly is your offer?” Mr Beck asked.
“That I provide the aircraft and the fuel and pay any landing fees and so on; and that you and your team provide the local knowledge to show me the known aircraft wrecks and sites in Cape York Peninsula. I will even provide the food and accommodation if that helps,” Mr Jemmerling answered.
Willy had been listening with great interest and deep suspicion. He felt sure it must be some sort of trick to reveal to Mr Jemmerling where their own aircraft wrecks were. ‘He wants to beat us to them,’ he thought. But it was a very tempting offer and he was gripped by a strong desire to go for another ‘Catalina’ flight. Seeing that Mr Beck was deep in thought Willy asked, “Exactly who are you offering to take on this flight Mr Jemmerling?”
Coasts of Cape York Page 18