Graham waited till the others were seated then began to read. “On the eleventh of August Nineteen Forty the German Raider Orion was one hundred and twenty miles north-east of Brisbane, when she turned to patrol the Australia- New Caledonia route. Two days later she intercepted a wireless message from the RAN to an American steamer asking if anything had been seen of a patrol aircraft missing off Brisbane. Thus, from the position given, Weyher learned that aircraft patrols were being carried out up to one hundred and fifty miles to seaward: Thus the decision to remain in the vicinity of Brisbane only for a brief lapse of time proved to be justified.”
“Only a hundred and twenty miles off Brisbane!” Peter said. “That would be no distance for one of those Arados. What was their range again?”
“Their radius of action was about six hundred miles,” Stephen replied, “and they could do two hundred miles per hour.”
“Off Brisbane for two or three days,” Graham added. “That would be long enough to fly a plane ashore and make contact.”
“It certainly would,” Peter agreed.
“And there is more, and some of it I find really puzzling,” Graham went on. “Listen to this: ‘From the fourteenth to the sixteenth of August Orion cruised off Noumea harbour, and her aircraft, during a reconnaissance flight over the town, saw public gatherings in the streets and squares which- as was inferred from wireless transmissions- were connected with pro-de Gaulle and anti-Vichy activities, while it was also learned that a ship carrying a British Resident was expected.’ What do you make of that?”
“What is this pro-de Gaulle and anti-Vichy?” Judy asked.
Peter answered. “After the French were defeated by Germany in Nineteen Forty the Germans set up a puppet government at the city of Vichy in France. The ‘Free French’ who kept on fighting the war were led by General de Gaulle,” Peter explained.
“Noumea is in New Caledonia, just across the other side of the Coral Sea,” Stephen added.
Judy smiled. “Oi, except you mean Caledonie Nouvea jen e' se quir?” she replied.
“Sorry, I didn’t know if you knew where it was,” Stephen replied, blushing and silently cursing himself. This was compounded when Judy said a whole sentence in French and then added, “I’ve been there. We had a family holiday there last year.”
Graham smiled. “Can I go on now?” he asked.
“Of course,” Judy replied.
Graham read on, “It says, ‘The ferment which Orion’s aircraft observed in the streets and squares of Noumea was at this time causing concern to the British and Australian governments. Despite the resolution of the elective council of New Caledonia of the twenty sixth of June, affirming the decision to continue the fight against Germany, pro-Vichy elements in the island appeared to be gaining ground.’ It goes on with a whole lot of details about who the governor was and how the British and Australians tried to get the pro-de Gaulle people to take control. A French warship, the Dumont d’Urville, is mentioned. Her captain was pro-Vichy.”
“So there was some sort of local revolt or power struggle?” Peter asked.
“Yes,” Graham agreed.
“And suddenly a German Raider turns up and prowls around off the coast for a few days,” Andrew said.
Peter nodded. “That’s right,” he agreed.
“Mighty suspicious,” Graham said. “It means to me that the Orion was sent there by her own government to try to help the pro-Vichy people.”
Peter nodded again. “Could be,” he agreed.
“Which means there were German agents in Noumea sending information to Germany,” Andrew suggested.
“Or at least pro-German Frenchmen,” Stephen agreed.
“But it is the plane flight!” Graham cried. “Look, in all the accounts I have now read, about five in two weeks, this is the first mention of a plane from a Raider going close to the coast of any country, let alone flying over the capital city in broad daylight!”
“You are right,” Peter agreed. “It would be a colossal risk. Planes would not have been so common in a place like that, that no-one would have even glanced up to look, and the Arado was a pretty distinctive type. They would only take a risk like that if they had a powerful motive.”
“Yes, to see groups of people in the streets it must have been pretty low,” Graham agreed. “People would have seen it, and noted it markings. That would be a dead giveaway that there was a German ship in the area.”
“Was it seen and reported?” Roger asked.
Graham shook his head. “The book doesn’t say,” he replied.
Peter looked thoughtful. “So the ship was there to try to tip the local government to be pro-German. That would have given us a problem, a hostile island off our east coast,” he said.
“What would we have done do you think?” Judy asked.
“Invaded I suppose, but it would have taken a while to organize,” Graham answered.
Judy looked doubtful. “Oh we wouldn’t have fought with the French surely,” she said.
“But we did,” Andrew replied. “In Nineteen Forty, after France surrendered, British and Australian ships sank French warships off the coasts of Africa.”
Peter nodded. “And our army took part in a big attack on French owned Syria and Lebanon in Nineteen Forty One,” he added.
Graham spoke next. “And the British mounted a big amphibious expedition to take Madagascar from the Vichy French in Nineteen Forty Two. That was so the island couldn’t be used as a German or Japanese base,” he explained.
“So New Caledoni a in hostile hands would have been a real problem to us,” Roger agreed.
Graham nodded. “Which brings us back to the float plane. Here is definite proof that at least one German floatplane was flown over the Coral Sea,” he said.
“Two,” Stephen said. “There is even better proof up on the top of Black Mountain.”
“Exactly!” Graham cried. “So, if they did it once, they probably did it more than once.”
“You are right,” Peter agreed. “I’ll bet they flew people or weapons into New Caledonia. But they were too little, too late.”
“Which means they may have flown people or weapons into Queensland,” Roger added.
“But who to? And where to?” Stephen asked.
“We will never know,” Roger replied.
“We might,” Stephen said.
Roger looked puzzled. “How?”
Stephen looked at each of his friends in turn. “The police might be able to track down the German agent from those papers,” he suggested.
Graham nodded. “Might, but they aren’t likely to tell us if they do,” he said.
Peter looked thoughtful. “They might. We could ask them,” he said.
“Pigs might fly,” Stephen concluded.
Andrew agreed. “That was really interesting Graham,” he commented. “It reminds me of something I read in another book. I’ll find it and bring it tomorrow.”
“What about the ideas of an expedition to Black Mountain?” Peter asked. “I’d like to see this plane crash.”
“I will have to ask my parents,” Roger replied.
“Me too,” Stephen agreed. “But I don’t like my chances. They have already said no because they think I have been camping too much this month.”
“Ask anyway please,” Peter asked.
With that the subject was closed and the conversation moved on to the swimming carnival, now only a week away. Peter wanted to organize some novelty events and was trying to encourage teams from each ‘House’ to take part.
That afternoon Stephen went home via Peter’s and they discussed the possibility of an expedition to Black Mountain on the following weekend, or the one after that. Peter’s mother wasn’t keen but did not say no. Stephen then rode home to ask his parents. They were definitely not keen on the idea.
“You still look very tired,” his mother said.
“Aw Mum!”
His father then looked up from his paper. “I agree with your mother. Another week’s rest wo
n’t hurt you.”
At that moment the phone rang. Stephen’s mother was closest. She moved to pick it up. Stephen shook his head. “I’ll get it Mum. It will just be another crank wanting to speak to me.”
“It’s alright dear,” his mother replied. She picked up the phone and answered. Stephen heard a woman’s voice and lost interest. He went to the kitchen to get a drink of cordial and then to his room to start on his homework. Twenty minutes later his mother called him out for tea. To his surprise she was still on the phone but put it down as he came into the room.
“Well, that was interesting,” she said.
“So it wasn’t another Nazi Nut?” Stephen asked sarcastically.
“No. It was much more interesting than that,” his mother replied.
Stephen’s father stood up. “Who was it?” he asked.
“It was a dear old lady named Mrs Hopkins, Vera Hopkins,” she replied.
Stephen’s father shook his head. “Don’t know her,” he replied.
“No. I don’t know her either but she is coming to visit on Wednesday afternoon,” Stephen’s mother replied.
As his mother often had lady friends over Stephen paid no particular attention until his mother added, “She was phoning from Melbourne and she is flying up. It is about the plane you found Stephen.”
That got Stephen’s attention but his mother just shook her head and said, “We will wait and see what she wants. She sounded a lovely old dear.”
The phone call had Stephen mildly curious but he had too many other worries at that moment so he ate his tea then settled to watch the TV news. As he did the telephone rang. Being closest Stephen picked it up “Hello, the Bell residence,” he said.
“Are you the kid who found the crashed German plane?” asked a man’s voice, its tone distinctly hostile.
“Yes, who’s speaking please?” Stephen replied, trying to speak calmly.
“Little bastard! If you keep poking your nose into things that are none of your business then you will regret it,” the man threatened.
“We weren’t stirring things up,” Stephen replied. “We were looking for a plane crash.” As he spoke he experienced a wave of cold fear, followed by a surge of anger.
The man went on. “Well you have now stirred things up that were better left buried and you may regret it,” he snarled.
Stephen’s mother had seen Stephen’s change of expression and she called across the room, “Is everything alright dear? Who is that?”
Stephen was about to answer when the man shouted, “Keep your nose out of our business, and your mouth shut, or we will shut it for you. Heil Hitler!”
That really shook Stephen. For a moment he was struck speechless. As he gathered his thoughts he heard the phone go click as the man hung up.
“Who was it dear?” his mother persisted.
“Just some Nazi Nut,” Stephen replied. He put the phone down and stood up.
His mother shook her head. “I think your father and I will answer any phone calls in the future,” she said.
Stephen’s father nodded. “We might even get the number changed and get a ‘silent number’,” he suggested.
“Or get the police to put one of those tracer things on it,” his mother added.
“It will be Ok Mum. The calls are drying up,” Stephen replied, but he was badly shaken. He went to the kitchen for a drink and then again settled to watch the TV. After that he went off to his room to work on an assignment.
That night he had another bad dream and woke several times with his heart pounding and covered in sweat. Outside it was raining so he put it down to that and tried to go back to sleep, with limited success.
Being Wednesday he prepared for cadets after school, wondering all the while about what had happened to Capt Conkey. To his immense relief Capt Conkey was almost the first person he saw on arriving at school. The teacher gave him a cheerful greeting and went on his way, leaving a very happy Stephen behind.
There was no explanation from Capt Conkey and it was only with difficulty that Stephen, Peter and Graham could worm out of Barbara and Gwen that it had all been about some sort of accusation made against Capt Conkey by two of the girls. “The lying little bitches!” Gwen added with quite uncharacteristic venom.
“Who were they?” Stephen asked.
“Never mind. If Capt Conkey wants you to know he will tell you,” Gwen replied.
So the day went much more happily and school was back to its normal routine. Stephen was even happy to volunteer for one of Peter’s novelty swim events. Cadets also went well.
After cadets Stephen rode his bicycle home. When he arrived there he was surprised to find the house full of people and suitcases. That made Stephen a bit self-conscious as he was still wearing his cadet uniform.
“Oh here he is!” his mother cried. “Stephen, this is Mrs Hopkins.”
Stephen had been very aware of three younger children, a boy of his own age and two girls in their early teens, all staring at him. He turned and his eyes met those of an old lady. She was seated in the lounge chair and gave him a smile which caused her face to crinkle and her eyes to shine.
“Oh he’s a handsome one!” Mrs Hopkins said, taking Stephen’s hand and shaking it.
Stephen blushed and mumbled, noting as he stood there that Mrs Hopkins was quite thin, very grey and yet full of life. He was then introduced to a middle-aged woman who could only have been Mrs Hopkins daughter. Mrs Downey was her name and she was a ruddy-faced version of her mother, but looking much tireder.
Then Stephen found himself shaking hands with the youth of his own age. “Tom Downey,” the youth said. Tom was a thin rake of a boy who stood a head taller than Stephen. His face was very red and pock-marked from acne. He had the same bright, hazel eyes as his grandmother, and a nervous smile.
The two girls were then introduced. They were Nancy, 12 and Sally, 10. Both blushed and giggled and made Stephen even more self-conscious.
Stephen’s mother urged Stephen to be seated beside his father. She was obviously feeling very happy. “Mrs Hopkins has just flown in an aeroplane for the first time in her life,” she said.
Stephen looked at the old lady in surprise, aware that the two young girls were both talking about the flight on the aeroplane and being shushed by their mother and big brother.
Mrs Hopkins grinned and her eyes twinkled. “That’s right. And when you hear why we are here you will understand why I finally let them talk me into it.”
“Why is that?” Stephen asked.
“Well, it may just be a wild goose chase,” Mrs Hopkins replied, “And it may have nothing to do you with you. But it is about that German aeroplane you found.”
CHAPTER 13
GHOSTS FROM THE PAST
At the mention of the crashed German plane Stephen’s interest was seized. He sat up and said, “The German plane? How?”
Mrs Hopkins looked at him, her eyes still bright but her face now set with anxiety. “This is clutching at straws and it is a bit embarrassing so please forgive me if I get a bit weepy. There is a lot of family history in this, some ghosts from the past, and it is very personal.”
Stephen nodded and noted that his own parents were looking quite anxious, as was Mrs Downey. Mrs Hopkins said, “Do you have any details about this German aeroplane other than what was in the news reports?”
“There’s some stuff from the German Embassy,” Stephen replied
“And your article you wrote for the aviation magazine,” his father added.
“Could I read it please?” Mrs Hopkins asked.
“Of course,” Stephen replied. He got up and quickly went through to his room and found the papers, then walked back to the lounge room. As he did Mrs Hopkins asked, “You wouldn’t happen to know when this German plane crashed would you?”
A most peculiar sensation passed over Stephen and he had to pause. “Yes, I think I do actually, or at least within a few days.”
“Could you please tell me, then I will kn
ow if I am just wasting everyone’s time or not,” Mrs Hopkins replied.
Stephen was about to hand her the papers but, knowing where to look, he now flicked them open and checked. “According to the information I have the plane came off a German Auxiliary Cruiser named the Kondor and she was in the Coral Sea from about the Sixteenth of June Nineteen Forty One until about the Twenty Third of June. We think the plane crashed on either the Eighteenth or Nineteenth of June.”
At that Mrs Hopkins went very pale and her hand flew to her mouth. “Oh dear! It might be!” she gasped. Then tears filled her eyes and she began to sob. Stephen was shocked at the change as Mrs Hopkins appeared to age twenty years in as many seconds. Suddenly she looked like a very old lady.
Mrs Downey moved to hug her. “It’s alright Mum,” she said, patting her mother.
“I...I’m sorry,” Stephen blurted, “I didn’t mean to upset her.”
“You didn’t,” Mrs Downey replied, a wistful half-smile crossing her lips. “This is an old family ghost.”
Mrs Hopkins dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief Stephen’s mother had passed her, then she looked up at Stephen. “The Eighteenth of June! My father was last seen on the Nineteenth. It can’t be just coincidence!”
Stephen felt his flesh crawl and he came out in goose-bumps. “Who was your father? Why couldn’t it be a coincidence?” he asked.
Mrs Hopkins couldn’t answer for a minute and the women shushed Stephen till she had recovered her composure. She accepted a cup of tea from Stephen’s mother and gratefully sipped it. Then she set the cup down and explained.
“This might bore you a bit as it is all family skeletons. I know it will embarrass the kids. Sorry kids, but it is best you know.” She smiled at her grandchildren and they smiled anxiously back.
Then she went on, her daughter gently squeezing her hand and arm to comfort her. “I was only five at the time, had just started school. That was here in Cairns, in Nineteen Forty One. Cairns Central School that was.”
“The Central School is gone now,” Stephen said. “All swallowed up by the new developments.”
Mrs Hopkins nodded, but hardly heard. Stephen caught his mother’s sharp headshake showing disapproval at his interruption. Mrs Hopkins went on, “My Dad was an officer in the army then, well, not really. I mean he was really a cabinetmaker but he joined the Militia just before the Second World War and was a lieutenant in the local battalion, the Fifty First, the Far North Queensland Regiment.”
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