What really depressed Graham and gnawed at his self-esteem was the thought that he had been given a section of trouble makers who were the rejects of their own platoons. ‘Does that mean I am a reject too? Is that what CUO Masters thinks of me?’ he worried. ‘And we were the decoys and didn’t even manage to do that properly!’
The mournful dirges of the curlews fitted right into his mood of gloomy introspection. Then another thought crossed his mind. ‘And there were no girls in my patrol either. Does that mean Capt Conkey knows about Kirsty?’
And where was Kirsty? She was one of the dark forms sleeping on the sand around him but he suddenly didn’t care. He was too tired and down to be interested in girls. He went back to minutely analysing every part of the patrol. The only incident that gave him any satisfaction was how he had stood up to Pigsy. That gave him a good feeling, a sort of glow of certainty deep inside. Instinctively he knew he had passed some sort of fundamental test of character and that he would never be afraid of such people again.
‘Better to take the bashing,’ he told himself, gingerly pressing at his sore cheek as he did. ‘Dad was right. Physical pain only lasts for a little while but mental pain lasts a lot longer.’ He knew he would have despised himself if he had backed down and now he hugged that success to himself.
There were noises and talking and then more people came tramping past in the night. By his watch Graham saw that it was nearly 0100. The new arrivals were a very disgruntled 3 Platoon. They settled down to camp but with a lot of grumbling and bickering. It was plain that they had not reached their objectives, and had been captured as well.
‘A whole platoon taken prisoner!’ Graham marvelled. ‘How did that happen?’ The Great Raid on the rail bridge certainly looked less like a success all the time.
Then more people came trudging into the area. Graham groaned and tried to block the noises out so he could get to sleep. That idea was banished when he identified the voices: Pigsy and Co. Bragg was with them.
“Where’s my bloody pack!” snarled Pigsy.
Graham sat up, groped in his webbing for his torch then stood up with it. “Your packs are over here,” he said, shining the beam on them. “Get to bed quietly so you don’t wake everyone else up.”
“Stuff everyone else!” Waters muttered.
Graham chose to ignore that. Instead he said quietly, “You blokes did a really good job as decoys. You drew their patrols and guards away at exactly the right times. Thanks for that.” He wasn’t sure about that, suspecting the Hutchie Men may have done some of the work but reasoned it would do more good than harm to praise their efforts.
“Huh!” Moynihan grunted. “Did youse get to the bridge?”
“Yes we did, now go to bed. We will talk about it in the morning,” Graham replied.
By then the four ‘prisoners’ had found their packs and were looking for patches of bare sand. To Graham’s surprise they did as he said and were soon lying down in their sleeping bags. He switched off his torch and returned to his own bed. This time he just went off to sleep within minutes.
The murmur of voices roused Graham from a deep sleep. He returned to wakefulness in slow stages, his mind registering that it was daylight. The talking was coming from 1 Platoon area. A check of his watch showed him it was 0640. For a moment he thought his watch must be wrong until he remembered the exercise orders about check parade being at 0700. The extra hour was to compensate for the late finish of the night exercise. Thinking to get up and go to the toilet before parade he went to sit up. That dragged a groan from him as stiff muscles protested.
After that he spent a few minutes massaging his leg muscles and stretching. He pulled on socks and boots and laced them up, then walked off past the sleeping cadets and into the bushes. Having relieved himself he walked back, enjoying the cool morning air in spite of a feeling of anxiety about how things had turned out.
Back at 2 Platoon he saw that Sgt Grenfell was sitting up and lacing his boots. He gave Graham a smile and a nod which did something to restore his morale. On returning to his gear Graham noted his damp shirt hanging over a branch. He was about to move the shirt out to where the sun might catch it as it rose when the green shoulder flashes on it caught his eye. For a moment he rejected the idea that came to him as being too much of a deliberate showing off, but then he took the green slides off the wet shirt and slid them onto the one he was wearing.
Check parade followed. Graham stood and woke all the members of his section and urged them to get out of bed. To his own mild surprise he did not hesitate to walk over to nudge Pigsy with his boot.
“Get up Pikey,” he said, deliberately using a new nickname.
“Go to buggery!” Pigsy grumbled, but he still sat up and began pulling on his boots.
Moynihan scowled and grumbled until Waters did a thunderous fart. That helped ease the tension as the others teased him. Graham smiled and looked away, to find himself looking into Kirsty’s eyes. That made him blush but she giggled.
With the section assembled Graham led them out across the dry river channel to where CSM Cleland was calling out. They had to splash through the shallow flow and that caused some muttering and grumbling but Graham didn’t care. 4 Section was first out in 2 Platoon.
The company formed up in line along the open sandy bed of the river. It took ten minutes before all the platoons were present, 3 Platoon again being last. As they stood there Graham chatted to Stephen about the night’s battles. He noted that both Stephen’s and Gwen’s sections had only one green epaulet.
“What happened to you lot?” Stephen asked, indicating the two green slides Graham wore. “Did you get lost and miss the battle altogether?”
“No. We made it to the bridge. Did you?” Graham replied.
“No,” Stephen conceded. “Too many guards. We had to battle all the way.”
Further conversation was ended by CSM Cleland calling them to attention and then right dressing them. After the sergeants had marked the roll and reported to him CSM Cleland told them to be packed up, ready to march, by 0900. Sgt Grenfell led 2 Platoon back to their area. Once there Graham ordered the section to roll up their bedding first. Pigsy and Co muttered about doing it but obeyed. Then Graham told the section to move slightly further away. “Sit in a circle on your packs,” he added.
“Why should we?” Waters demanded.
“Because I said so,” Graham replied firmly. “And because we are the best section in the company, even if we are only the decoys.” “What’s a decoy?” Bragg asked.
“What you were last night when you got captured,” Graham replied. In the resulting laughter and explanations the Four obeyed, though with surly expressions on their faces. Breakfast began. As he sat on his pack getting his stove out, Graham saw Kirsty looking at him from nearby. For a moment he thought she might come over to sit next to him but he gave a little shake of his head. Her response was to pout, shrug, and then turn to talk to Stephen.
During breakfast stories were swapped and Graham learned that the decoys had indeed been the ones to draw away the guards at the critical moment. Halyday took centre stage, telling and retelling how he had crept over to the end of the bridge past the guards. He was even able to relate to Pigsy what questions the guards had been asking him as the section crept past.
Other stories filtered in. Two really surprised Graham. One was about the Hutchie Men. It seemed they had gone into the wrong farm and been shot at by an angry farmer who had bailed them up behind his pig sty, then held them prisoner until the police had phoned the army. The OC and another OOC from Heatley had arrived by vehicle to remove them. The Hutchie Men had been allowed to continue but had run out of time so missed the exercise altogether.
As Porno explained it, “I fair crap myself when spotlight come on and shotgun go bang! Hutchie Men not so brave when bullets real!”
The second story was about 3 Platoon. They had been surrounded and lost one slide while trying to cross the highway at the eastern end of the bridge. Then they had blundered into the defender’s HQ which was well defended. After extracting themselves from that CUO Mitrovitch had left them hiding among the trees on the river bank while she and Cpl Gallagher had gone ahead to reconnoitre a route. Sgt Yeldham had been left in command but he and Cpl Crane had gone off to try to catch two defenders they could see on the skyline. While they were away a patrol from St Michaels had come along and found the platoon. The platoon had surrendered.
“Bloody sixteen captured by five!” Roger had exclaimed as he told Graham about it.
“And by St Michaels,” Stephen added.
That was worse. To have been captured by Heatley would have been bad enough, but by St Michaels! That really scorched their pride. To cap it off CUO Mitrovitch and Cpl Gallagher had been captured near the rail bridge, and Sgt Yelhdam and Cpl Crane were also captured when it turned out they were not taking on two but six! It was obvious from their body language, faces and voices, that 3 Platoon were not a happy band.
After eating, scrubbing his face clean, shaving and washing up, Graham went over to talk to Stephen and Roger about the exercise. While doing so Kirsty came and sat down next to him, placing her hand on his knee as she sat.
“Hello Graham. How are you?” she asked.
“Good,” Graham replied, but he could see that Sgt Grenfell was watching. “Kirsty, take your hand off my knee please,” he said quietly. “Why? Don’t you like it?” she asked.
“I love it, but I don’t want either of us to get into trouble,” he replied.
“Oh poo! Don’t you love me?” Kirsty whispered.
A spurt of annoyance surged through Graham. “No. I like you. And today is the leadership evaluation exercise and I don’t want to fail it. So, if you really like me, then help by not causing problems please,” he replied.
“Oh fine! If that’s how you feel!” Kirsty snapped. She flashed him an angry look, then stood up and flounced away.
That gave Graham some mixed feelings. ‘Hell hath no fury eh?’ he thought. He noted Gwen giving him an approving look but he didn’t feel like that sort of treatment either so he also stood up and wandered off.
While he was walking around chatting Graham was stopped by CUO Masters. “What happened to your face Cpl Kirk?” he asked.
“Just a little problem during the exercise sir,” Graham replied.
For a moment the two stood facing each other and CUO Masters raised a quizzical eyebrow. “Well?”
Graham simply replied, “It was resolved at the time sir.”
There was a silence as CUO Masters waited for more information. However Graham kept silent and just gave a slight smile. CUO Masters glanced across to where 4 Section sat. For a moment he eyed Pigsy and Co, then looked back at Graham and gave a wry smile. “And you aren’t going to say?”
“No sir. It is dealt with,” Graham replied.
CUO Masters nodded and walked off, looking thoughtful. That got Graham anxious and he hoped there would be no further enquiries. It also spurred him to get the section moving. “Hurry up and get that mess gear packed away. Andrews, wash your face. Waters, polish your boots. You too Cadet Moynihan. Pick up that rubbish Cadet Milson.”
He was in no mood for arguments and they did as he ordered. By 0830 the section was ready to march, their routine completed and their packs laid out in a neat row. Sgt Grenfell gave Graham a grunt of satisfaction and went on to chivvy Stephen’s section, some of whom were still cooking.
By 0900 the unit was standing out on the river bed in three ranks. CSM Cleland called them to attention and then handed over to Lt Maclaren. The platoon commanders were put on parade and then Lt Maclaren stood them at ease.
“We are just waiting for Capt Conkey and Lt Hamilton to come back,” he explained. “While we wait platoon commanders can inspect their platoons for dress and hygiene.” “Oh crap!” Waters muttered.
“Keep quiet!” Graham snapped over his shoulder. As he did he noted Sgt Grenfell’s mouth open. He had been about to reprimand Waters but Graham had beaten him to it. Sgt Grenfell met Graham’s eye and nodded. That made Graham feel better. ‘I might be the commander of the rejects but I will go down fighting,’ he told himself.
The inspection took 15 minutes and Graham was pleased to note that only Andrews and Waters were spoken to in his section while half of Stephen’s section had their names taken for something. Stephen himself had neglected to shave. Gwen’s section, as usual, seemed to be perfect. That got Graham worrying again. He knew that the main event on the day’s program was the leadership evaluation exercise. ‘We are all being watched today,’ he thought.
Once again he did the mathematics: 16 corporals with only 7 sergeants and the CSM’s job available for them. ‘At least half of us must miss out,’ he deduced. Thinking about all his mistakes of the previous week, and of being made commander of the reject section, caused him to become quite despondent. He became so dejected he felt like just giving up and leaving cadets. ‘What’s the use? Everything I do I muck up!’ he thought unhappily.
A vehicle drove down the bank behind them and a smiling Capt Conkey marched across the sand to take over the parade. After doing so he stood and looked along the line slowly before his eyes found Graham. Graham was sure he was staring straight at him and it made him very uncomfortable. Capt Conkey then looked away and said, “When I left the exercise HQ last night both Heatley and St Michaels were very full of themselves, crowing about how we had totally failed.”
He paused. Graham shared the collective shame. Then Capt Conkey went on, “But I have just confirmed that we did not fail. One of our raiding parties made it to the rail bridge and planted their bomb successfully. I have just been to the spot with the OCs of Heatley and St Michaels and confirmed this. It was really good to see their faces when I dug up the bomb and pointed to the names written in felt pen on the concrete.”
There was another pause and Graham sensed the rising spirits of those around him. He also prickled with anxiety. ‘That was us,’ he thought, bracing himself for the jealousy and ill-will that such a success might bring.
Capt Conkey now met Graham’s eyes again and he said, “We sent out six raiding parties and only one of them made it through. That was Four Section led by Cpl Kirk. Well done Cpl Kirk. You have saved the unit’s reputation.”
Graham blushed fiercely and could only nod at the applause. Capt Conkey went on, “I understand there were a few problems along the way, and that you made good use of the four reinforcements you were given from Four Platoon. Well done Lance Corporal Franks and your group for the decoy role you carried out so well.”
“Franks!” Pigsy hissed indignantly. “It was my plan!” On hearing that Graham had to smile. He could tell that Pigsy and Co were pleased at the praise.
Capt Conkey then had them moved into the shade of the trees on the south bank. As they were being seated in section lines two more vehicles came down to park on the bank behind them. The OC of Heatley and some off his OOCs got out. They began chatting to the Cairns OOCs. Then a long line of dusty, sweaty cadets carrying packs came into view down the track. They wore yellow shoulder flashes.
‘Heatley,’ Graham noted, experiencing a distinct feeling of envy at how military they looked. He remembered having the same feelings on his first annual camp the previous year when he had seen a Heatley recon patrol go past.
The Heatley cadets began filing across the river bed towards Dingo Creek. As they went past cadets from both units began making comments. The Heatley cadets were crowing over how good they were and about beating Cairns the night before. The only effective rejoinders were, “Yeah, but we blew up your bridge, so we won!” and by Porno threatening to bring the Hutchie Men to catch them when they were alone at the dunny. That raised a good laugh and left the Cairn’s cadets thinking they had had the best of the exchange.
As the last of the hundred or so Heatley cadets vanished among the trees on the other bank Capt Conkey came back and stood in front of the company. He was obviously now in a good mood but his words caused Graham’s anxiety level to shoot up.
“Today is a very important day. Every annual camp we run a Leadership Evaluation Exercise to help select the candidates for the promotion course in December. We have obviously been watching you since you joined but this helps clarify who is best.”
He allowed them time to think about that, then reminded them that the officers also depended on the reports filled out on every person by their superiors. “And on our own judgement,” he added.
Graham knew about the reports, having seen his the previous year. He now learned that all the corporals would have a report filled out on them by their platoon sergeant, another by their platoon commander, plus one by the CSM and one by Capt Conkey. “That is four reports. It will allow us to remove personal bias to some extent and get a fairer result,” Capt Conkey explained.
‘Sixteen corporals,’ Graham pondered. ‘And only seven jobs, maybe eight. So who might they be?’ In his head he began compiling a list of who he thought would be selected while Capt Conkey went on with the briefing. ‘Gwen, Peter, Gallagher, Brooks because he is in the Q Store, Parnell in HQ, Stephen- maybe.’ Then he found it harder. A couple he thought he could eliminate: Dimbo and Griffin, but it still left a lot of uncertainty. Brown, Costigan, Harris and Bannister were all ones he disliked and wouldn’t have picked but he had to concede he did not really know how well they had performed as section commanders.
It was very worrying. ‘I’d better put my best foot forward today then,’ he thought, hoping he might claw his way back up from the reject pile into the middle.
Capt Conkey explained that each group would move along the same course from incident to incident. At each ‘stand’ a ‘Directing Staff” (DS) member would note who showed leadership on a form which had been prepared for the purpose. He read them the headings so that they were aware of what was being looked for. Then Capt Conkey explained that the corporals and lance corporals would be removed from every section and grouped to compete against their own rank levels.
The story was the same as the exercise Graham had done the previous year; they were a commando patrol in enemy territory. They had just attacked an enemy HQ and were now trying to escape with secret documents. However, in the battle their corporal and lance corporal had both gone missing. They had the only maps so the patrol had to follow the laid down route back to the sea where a submarine would pick them up.
“Do we really have to walk all the way back to the sea?” Bragg whispered anxiously.
“No Braggy, the sub will come up the river,” Halyday replied sarcastically.
“Will it?” Bragg cried, glancing towards the Bunyip.
There was a collective groan and Capt Conkey flashed them an angry glance. “Keep your section quiet Cpl Kirk,” he snapped.
‘Oh bummer!’ Graham thought. ‘I don’t want to be noticed that way!’
After the explanation there was a half hour break while the course was set up. The cadets were allowed to talk and go to the toilet. Graham noted that Kirsty was busy talking to Cpl Gallagher and he was surprised at the intensity of his jealousy. There was regret too, and relief. Instead he talked to Peter about how 4 Platoon had fared on the exercise.
When Capt Conkey returned just before 1000 he called the corporals out and handed them blank Personal Qualities Report forms. “As soon as you finish the exercise sit and fill these out, then hand them to me. They are confidential so don’t talk to any one about them, or show them to each other.”
He then divided the corporals into two groups. Graham found he had been placed in the group with Gwen, Dimbo, Gallagher, Crane, Costigan, Parnell and Brookes. ‘Oh bum! I didn’t want to have to compete with Gwen,’ he thought. ‘She is too good.’ It was a relief not to have to be against Stephen or Peter, both of whom were in the other group. The group Graham was in was selected to go first.
Capt Conkey then pointed across to the trees near where they had slept. “Go that way until you meet Lt McEwen,” he said.
“Do we have to patrol sir?” Graham asked, remembering the previous year’s exercise.
“Not yet,” Capt Conkey replied. “Now off you go.”
It was hot by then, with the sun blazing down from a clear blue sky. But Graham was sweating with anxiety too. He had a big drink as he walked along with the others. They splashed across the shallow water and made their way through the belt of small trees. In the shade near 3 Platoon’s packs they found Lt McEwen.
The first stand was a First Aid dilemma. They were being hunted by enemy patrols with dogs and helicopters. One member of the patrol had been badly wounded and they had to decide what to do, keeping in mind that the injured member knew the whole plan, plus a lot of other secret information. It was a discussion activity and was dominated by Gwen, with some stupid suggestion by Brooks and Dimbo. Graham tried to put in positive and sensible suggestions. Then he made himself useful in constructing an improvised stretcher.
To his annoyance it was Gwen who took command when it came time to lift the stretcher, which had Dimbo on it.
After that they were told to patrol along Dingo Creek. There was a pause and they looked at each other. Gwen spoke first, “We had better organize ourselves then.”
But instead of nominating tasks she looked at Graham. He saw that the others were also looking at him. Aware that Lt McEwen was watching and taking notes he tried not to get flustered. ‘Seize the initiative you dummy!’ he told himself. He pointed at Gallagher. “You go first scout. Craney, you be a scout too.”
To his relief no-one argued and he took the position of patrol commander, then got them moving. As they entered Dingo Creek he began to really sweat, remembering the patrol course two days earlier. ‘Oh I hope we don’t get a contact in here!’ he thought.
They didn’t. First they met CUO Mitrovitch and Sgt Yeldham at a ‘minefield’. They had to discuss how to get across quickly and safely, and not leave any tracks. As they talked Graham noted that Yeldham looked really miserable. He was certainly touchy and bad-tempered and snapped angrily back at Costigan when he made a teasing comment about getting captured.
Then it was on along the bed of Dingo Creek. Staff Sgt Bates met them and took their names, then told them to keep walking. That made Graham very anxious and he scanned the steep slopes and rubber vines, trying to have a workable plan ready. At the sharp bend to the right Sgt Gayney suddenly stepped out with her hands up.
“I surrender,” she said.
“Bang! Gotcha!” was Brookes’ response.
Staff Sgt Bates pointed to some shade just around the bend. “OK, let’s sit and discuss what you would do in this situation.”
That led to an animated argument over whether to shoot the prisoner or what else could be done. Graham was quite sure that shooting was wrong and said so heatedly.
“You’re just a softie!” Brookes told him.
Gwen and Gallagher supported Graham. They thought the prisoner could be left tied up where he would be found, or taken with them and used as a hostage. At the end Staff Sgt Bates said that either of those options was acceptable. That made Graham feel better. ‘Capt Conkey is very strong on morality,’ he told himself.
Further on, at the bend where Peter’s group had set up their ‘camp’, they met CUO Masters. The problem was a deserted camp, with a map clearly visible in the hutchie.
“It’s a trap,” Graham said. “Let’s just by-pass it.”
“No. We need the map,” Gwen insisted.
There was a short but tense discussion and Gwen’s plan was adopted. Graham still seemed to have command so he positioned a group up on the bank to the right, then sent the scouts to search. They duly found Sgt Grenfell and LCpl Telford hiding in ambush.
“Good work,” CUO Masters said. “Now go up the bank there along the track to the Bunyip.”
As Graham directed the scouts that way he realised Capt Conkey had been standing at the top of the bank watching. That got him all worried again. He became even more concerned when he noted that Capt Conkey was strolling along at the rear. CUO Grey met them and took their names, then told them to proceed.
Graham’s fears were justified when they reached the more open areas of rubber vine on top of the flat tongue of land between Dingo Creek and the Bunyip. Three ‘enemy’ suddenly appeared and began ‘firing’ at them. After diving for cover Graham looked anxiously around, his eyes prickling as sweat trickled into them. ‘I have to do well,’ he told himself. ‘Be bold! Be aggressive!’ Then he got all worried lest it become a case of fools rush in. He shouted to get control, then decided a frontal attack was the best option. With that in mind he warned the flank people to watch and then began ‘pepper-potting’ the groups.
Then it seemed to be easy. He just screamed orders and each group doubled forward ten paces in turn until they had over-run the ‘enemy’. On being told to stop by CUO Masters, Graham stood up, chest heaving and wiped the sweat from his face.
“OK Cpl Kirk, you have been shot,” Capt Conkey said. “You become one of the last in the section.”
‘Does that mean I did well or very badly?’ Graham wondered.
Capt Conkey did not nominate a new section commander so Gwen stepped up and took control. Nobody disputed this and they were directed on along the track through the rubber vines. To Graham’s relief Capt Conkey turned and went back, presumably to watch the second group of corporals.
There was no incident in the rubber vines. They came out at the bank of the main river at the northern end of the island to find CUO McAlistair and Sgt Sherry sitting in the shade. The corporals were told they had come to a crocodile infested river and that the enemy search patrols were close and catching up The only way across was a narrow old footbridge but sitting at their end of the bridge cooking a meal was an enemy soldier. He had his rifle leaning on a tree. What were they to do?
While they discussed this Graham stared off across the sand of the river bed, reliving the exercise of the previous night. In the distance he could see the dark pattern of the railway bridge. ‘It was certainly a good exercise,’ he mused. In his heart he knew it had become one of the most important incidents in his life.
The exercise route sent them left along the river bank back to the mouth of the Canning opposite the other end of the island. Lt Maclaren and Lt Standish were waiting there and they had the problem of who they would leave behind if the only boat available to take them out to the submarine obviously could not carry them all safely. This was a secret ballot. After discussing it they voted on slips of paper. Graham decided he would leave Costigan behind.
When they had finished Lt Maclaren pointed under the trees fifty paces up the Canning and said, “Go and wait there and have lunch, then fill out your Personal Qualities Reports. Also plan your skit or act for the campfire tonight.”
“Aw sir! Do we have to?” Crane grumbled.
“Yes, it is part of the section competition,” Lt Maclaren replied. “Now get going. When your section arrives take them back to camp.”
As the group walked along the sandy bed of the Canning Graham thought, ‘Well, that is that. I hope I did well.’ As he sat down in the shade he wondered what else he could do to improve his chances of being promoted.