Coasts of Cape York (10 page)

Noddy asked, “How come he is to be a warrant officer? What did he do to get that?”

“On annual camp he led the only patrol that was able to reach the objective during a field exercise against other cadet units,” Stephen replied.

Willy had heard the outline of that and said, “That was the raid by ten or twelve patrols against the Bunyip River Rail Bridge wasn't it?”

“Yes it was,” Stephen replied.

“Did you lead a patrol?” Stick asked.

Stephen nodded. “Yes I did, but we ran into three lots of defenders and never made it.”

“Still doesn't seem fair that Kirk should get promoted two ranks just for that,” Noddy grumbled.

“It wasn't just for that,” Stephen replied. “He also did a great job leading a very difficult section, and he saved a kid from committing suicide.”

“That was on the railway bridge at night wasn't it?” Willy asked.

“That's right.”

Willy frowned and said, “I heard that it was Peter who really saved the kid.”

“Yeah, Pete was there. They both were,” Stephen replied.

Willy could see that Stephen was looking uncomfortable defending his friend but respected him for trying. But the promotion still rankled. It obviously annoyed Noddy too because he said, “So Kirk goes from joining cadets in June last year to corporal at the start of this year, then to warrant officer by the end of the year?”

“Yeah, I suppose so,” Stephen conceded.

“Not fair,” Noddy grumbled.

“Why not?” Stephen challenged.

Noddy made a face and looked at the others for support. “Because in the Air Cadets you have to do a whole year as a recruit and then another as a leading cadet before you can even go on a corporals course. We won't go on ours till January next year and we have all been in longer than any of you army cadet types.”

“Maybe you are all just slow learners,” Stephen retorted.

This drew an outburst of derisive comments, to which Stephen just laughed. But it was an issue for Willy. Once again he did his sums. ‘I will be a corporal next year, in Year 10. With luck I will make sergeant in Year 11. Then I have to be a flight sergeant and a warrant officer before I can even do my CUOs course. I will be very lucky to make CUO even by the end of Year 12.'

He said this to Stephen who shrugged. “Don't pick on me,” he replied. “I don't make the rules. Anyway, who is coming to Beck's Air Museum next Sunday? I need to telephone to let them know we are coming.”

Willy said yes and explained that he could take Marjorie and Stick with him. While he was doing this a grumpy looking Graham appeared with Andrew Collins. As they sat down Graham asked, “Where are you all going on Sunday?”

“Mareeba,” Stephen answered. “To Beck's Air Museum.”

“I'm going to Mareeba on Sunday,” Graham said. “To see my Gran.”

“What time are we all meeting up then?” Stephen asked.

It was agreed that 2:00pm would be a suitable time. Andrew raised his eyebrows and asked, “What is this all about?”

“Steve's got as bee in his bonnet about old aircraft wrecks,” Willy replied.

They discussed the B24 crashes and Willy provided what little details he knew. Stick then mentioned the ‘Airacobras' which crash landed all over Cape York in 1942. At that Graham sat up and said, “My Grandfather was involved in that. He was the captain of a small ship taking supplies to the airbases up in the cape and he told me he took several air force work parties to the wrecks to take out the guns, radios and instruments, and engines and so on. There are even some old photos he took somewhere at home.”

Willy sat up, his interest aroused. “Do you think you could find them?”

“I suppose so. Grandad has been dead for five years but Gran might still have them,” Graham answered.

Noddy now said, “I heard there was the wreck of a B25 or something like that in the jungle near Babinda.”

“See if you can find out more details please,” Stephen asked.

“I heard that a plane crashed up on Black Mountain back during World War Two,” Stick added.

They discussed all the plane crashes they had heard about and Willy realized he did not know very much. ‘I will start doing some research,' he decided.

Then it was in to class and another long, boring afternoon. It was only enlivened by Callum and Sean, the class clowns, getting into trouble for practical jokes. For Willy it was all just frustrating. He knew the work, didn't need the revision and itched to either be with Marjorie or be in the library.

After school he got to the library, but not to be with Marjorie. She had to go shopping with her mother. Willy began to wonder if Marjorie's mum knew more than he thought. ‘Maybe she is making it hard for Marjorie and me to be together?' he thought.

So he contented himself using the internet to research plane crashes. It came as something of a revelation to him. ‘I didn't realize there had been so many!' he thought, noting a ‘Beaufighter' crash near Giru, south of Townsville; bombers laden with mustard gas bombs flying into the side of Mt Elliott, also near Townsville, ‘Mitchells', ‘Ansons' and P40 fighters going down in the sea or vanishing. He was particularly saddened to read an account of how a transport plane had crashed off Holloways Beach in 1944, killing all on board including Major General Vasey, the commander of the army's 7
^th
Division.

‘Flying was a pretty risky business in those days,' he mused.

That night Willy slept well for the first time since the rescue. He woke on the Friday feeling rested and fresh- and very horny. ‘Oh! I hope Marjorie and I can get together today,' he thought. But it was not to be. She was kept in at lunch time for talking in class and not doing her homework. Then she had to go straight home to do her chores because she was not going to be home on Saturday afternoon or Sunday.

“We will make it up,” she promised.

That sent Willy's hopes soaring but also made him think of a saying he had heard once that ‘you never catch up on the ones you miss out!' He had to console himself by riding home and doing some of his own household tasks. He then busied himself with some work on one of the model aircraft he had under construction. Model making was one of his hobbies and he had a large collection. These ranged from 1:72 and 1:35 scale plastic kits to much larger flying models made of balsa or of plastic. These were powered by either petrol engines or electric motors and were radio controlled.

‘I haven't done much model making recently,' he thought. But he knew why- too much time and energy taken up by Marjorie and by Air Cadets.

Friday night meant Air Cadets. Willy always looked forward to that. He put on his blue uniform with real pride, making sure it was well ironed and that his black boots shone with polish. His mother drove him to cadets. As usual he got there half an hour early because he liked to help and it gave him an opportunity to talk to other cadets from different schools. It also gave him a chance to speak to Marjorie, although he made very sure they never did anything at cadets that could be construed as ‘fraternization'.

As soon as his mother had dropped him off Willy made his way across to the timber hut that was their depot and went inside. There were already a dozen people there. To Willy's disappointment Marjorie was not there yet so he went over and saluted Flying Officer Turnbull and the CO, Flight Lieutenant Comstock, then went to talk to Joel Carpenter, another Leading Cadet, and Cpl Fazukis.

Inevitably the conversation turned to the ‘Catalina' flight and the rescue. Joel was obviously jealous at having missed out but still wanted to know the details. While Willy described the incident they were joined by his section leader, Sgt Sarah Sleaford and by two other cadets. When Joel wanted to know all the gory details of the body in the water Willy shook his head and had to walk away.

He joined another group, only to be asked on arrival by John Soper, “Hey Willy, what happened to that bloke we rescued?”

Willy could only shake his head. “No idea,” he answered. But the question made him think. “He went back to his home in Sydney, I suppose.” Jacob had certainly dropped out of the news quickly enough but that did not surprise Willy. ‘Nothing much stays in the news for more than a day or two,' he told himself.

The arrival of Stick and Marjorie gave him the diversion he wanted. He hurried across to join them. With them was a blonde girl in civilian clothes. She looked to be the same age as Marjorie and her face was familiar.

“Hello,” Willy said politely, after giving Marjorie a big smile.

Marjorie smiled back and then indicated the girl with her. “You know Vicki? She is in my class at school. She has come along to have a look.”

Willy nodded. Now he could place the girl. He had often seen Vicki around the school but had not known her name. They started talking cadets, trying to convince Vicki that she would enjoy it and that she should join.

The training then began. First there was a parade. The flight Willy was in, 16 Flight, went on parade behind the much older 104 Squadron. Willy enjoyed the parade and compared it to the army cadet parade he had watched on Wednesday afternoon. In outline it was similar: the Warrant Officer (Drill) (W.O.D) called markers and the flights then marched on from the side, did a left turn and stood at ease. He then ordered a right dress and eyes front then the Flight Sergeants called the roll. After that the WOD handed over to Flt Lt Comstock.

The cadets were then moved into the hall and seated for end-of-year theory exams. These were on the organization of the RAAF, Theory of Flight and Aircraft Recognition. Willy really enjoyed these tests and was sure he got nearly every answer correct. After that there was a short canteen break, during which he talked to Marjorie and Vicki.

The squadron then did an hour's rehearsal for the passing-out parade. Willy enjoyed that, even though he was just one of the cadets in the ranks. The whole ritual and sequence interested him and he was determined to do his best. He actually enjoyed drill and took pleasure in holding himself still and in the self discipline of trying to make his muscles do exactly what he wanted.

After the dismissal parade Willy sought out Marjorie to check that she was attending the army cadet passing-out parade the next day. She looked deep into his eyes and said she was. The look in her eyes made Willy's heart beat faster and he went dry in the throat. “I wish we could get together tomorrow,” he murmured, keeping his voice down so that no-one else could hear.

“We can tomorrow night,” Marjorie said. “Come over and we will play board games or something.”

“Or something,” Willy hinted.

Marjorie giggled. Stick, who was walking towards them said, “Or something what? What are you two planning?”

“Oh, nothing,” Marjorie replied, trying to look innocent.

“Nothing eh? Well that nothing might cost you a fair bit to buy my silence,” Stick answered, giving them a wink and a leering grin.

Willy felt a rush of guilt and went red. Marjorie just poked her tongue. “You tell on me and I will tell on you,” she retorted.

That silenced Stick at once and he changed the subject to the army cadet's passing-out parade. Arrangements were made to meet at the school oval. They had permission to wear their Number 1 uniform and Willy was looking forward to that. He often saw the army cadets in their uniforms but he rarely got the chance to wear his where they could see him.

Willy walked with Marjorie and Stick to the car park and said goodnight, then went to his mother's car. He knew his mother approved of Marjorie- though would not approve of them being too naughty. That made him feel another surge of guilt for trying to deceive her.

At home he had supper, then a shower because it was the last day of October and the night time temperature still hovered around 23 degrees C. When this was coupled with a humidity level of 70 or 80 % it made it very sticky. As neither of his parents liked air conditioning he had to lie under his fan with the window open to get cool.

But it was not the heat and humidity that kept Willy awake until well after midnight. It was shot thoughts about Marjorie. For several hours he lay and fantasized about having sex with her. Finally he drifted into a restless slumber.

Next morning he felt tired and hot but made himself get up at the normal time and have his shower and breakfast. Then he set to work on his Saturday chores of mowing, sweeping and tidying up. His father and mother both joined him in the garden, snipping, weeding and pruning. Sweat poured out of them in rivulets, necessitating frequent cold drinks and a good long morning tea break.

After lunch Willy ironed his uniform and polished his boots. His mother had insisted from the day he joined the air cadets that he do all these things himself and he now accepted it as part of his duties. When his uniform was ready he lay down on his bed to read. Despite the 34 degree heat he drifted into a fitful sleep.

By 3:30pm he was up and having a cold shower. After that he dressed carefully in his uniform, then had another large cold drink. At 4:15pm he and his parents set off in the car for the High School. On arrival they parked the car and joined the crowd of spectators. By 4:40pm they were seated on a row of chairs under the trees beside the school oval.

While they waited one of the army Officers of Cadets, Lieutenant Hamilton, came walking along greeting people.  When he got close Willy stood up and self consciously saluted.

Lt Hamilton returned the salute then fixed Willy with an intense stare. “You aren't going to try any tricks like last year are you Willy?” he queried.

Willy blushed and shook his head. “No sir,” he replied.

“There had better not be or it will all end in tears,” Lt Hamilton warned as he walked on.

Willy sat down embarrassed, perspiration from his anxiety adding to the trickle from the humid tropical heat. His blue shirt was soon soaked and he felt quite put out. Both his parents gave him sympathetic but ‘I-told-you-so' looks. Marjorie took his hand and squeezed it until he pulled it away. “Not when we are in uniform Marjorie!” he hissed.