Chapter 19

I did nothing for two days. That was easier than it seemed. The staff at the barracks assumed that I was on leave or working different hours. I was not accountable really to anyone around except the JIO which was supposed to be a secret organisation anyway. However, our current Prime Minister made it not so secret by accidentally dropping the acronym in public. Even then he got it wrong calling it the J ten. He didn’t further endear himself to the defence personnel at the higher echelons by doing that. They already, it seemed, had him pegged as a bit above moronic and totally out of his depth. That feeling began to permeate down the ranks as well and perhaps even out there in the broader community. Time and election would tell.

Colonel Atkinson may have been waiting for me to come back with my tail between my legs and offering a grovelling apology. That was never going to happen and so we remained in a stand-off with no-one wanting to break the impasse. I didn’t care one way or another and that was my advantage. The other aces I held were that I was right when I said that I would be difficult to replace in the short term. And with what was happening in Canberra there was no long term. From what he had been saying the army wanted to know and know now. They could record the information but in me they had someone who could analyse it far quicker than anyone else. Colonel Atkinson was being squeezed from above without a shadow of doubt, and I was squeezing from below and there was little he could do about either pressures. Like a hose turned on that had a kink in it, something had to give.

I started to write letters to Jean while I waited. I didn’t get very far because I am not a great one for using the written word to communicate. I wrote and read them and reread them, scrunched the paper into a ball and used the wastepaper basket as a basketball hoop and practised three-point shots. There were lots of “I’s” and “sorries” but after two days I had nearly run out of paper and the basket was full. I realised what a complete goose I had been. She was the best thing that had happened to me and I had blown it. I resigned myself to having lost her respect and even if I did manage to put down on paper just how I felt then I couldn’t even send the letter because I had no idea where she was. That just made things worse and nearly had me so low as to go back to the JIO to get back to doing work so that I didn’t think of her.

In the end, I didn’t have to make that decision. I was in my room when the tentative knock came on my door. My respect for Colonel Atkinson surprisingly rose when he opened the door. But respect may not be the right word, compassion perhaps. He didn’t come in full of bluster and add more threats and try the bullying tactics he had once used. Nor did he come whimpering, begging me to help him.

Instead he said, “Lieutenant Downs, I wrong when I spoke to you last time. Not only was I speaking in anger but that anger was counterproductive. To put the cards on the table, I have a problem. My superiors expect results and really don’t care who they walk over to get them. Sometimes I think that their ivory towers insulate them from the real world and real people. These are the men who send whole battalions into a conflict and are so distant that they talk in terms of numbers not people. They take calculated risks and expect certain number of casualties and seem to not worry how many pawns are sacrificed in their game of chess. Right now, they want information about decision makers and their thinking; and how these people will affect the defence force.

I can understand their logic and I know that they are breaking rules to find out. I have pointed out their bending of the law and also what will happen if we are caught. I have demanded that their orders are written because I am sure that if heads roll, mine and not theirs will be the first. Their reputation will save them and they will defend their situation with plausible deniability and we in the lower ranks will be the sacrificial lambs. You may have been wondering why we do everything in triplicate and the dungeon is full of files. Basically, this is me covering my arse. Yes, I do as I am ordered and I may object to the orders, but if I don’t, they will just replace me with someone more malleable and anything I say will be censored and censured. At least I have some control as the conduit. You can choose to be part of the conduit control or opt out as you have indicated you wish to. If the JIO can’t supply them with information they will get it from ASIO or ASIS in any way they can. That will lead to an all-out intelligence organisation war that will hamper what we are supposed to be really doing. You have seen part of that already.

I have chosen the lesser of the two evils. I am battling to get the army, navy and airforce to work together and share intelligence. If we can get our act together and link with ASIO and ASIS on a professional basis we can better defend Australia. In the long run, battles with other nations will be fought with information not guns. There will be skirmishes but no huge wars. If Vietnam has taught us anything, it is that we were totally unprepared through lack of knowledge and understanding of what the war was all about.

Now you need to know that I don’t pass on everything that gets transcribed to my superiors. They get what they want to hear. If I give them too little, they will suspect something. I will get replaced and they will then get it all and that will make that group too powerful. The last thing we want is for the military to control the government. They would love that of course but want to do it behind closed doors. Gorton was one of the first who stood up to the Defence Force and he has been replaced. He was one of the first conservatives to actively want us out of Vietnam for the right reasons. Now you can help me control what I can control or see me replaced. That’s your choice. I just didn’t want you to make the choice without knowing some background. I’ll give you a couple more days to think about it and accept any decision that you make. I have made preliminary arrangements to have you transferred to Townsville for the remaining period of your national service. I am sorry that is the closest that I can get you to your home. If you take that option, I should be able to put you in a specialist area of your choice.”

I hadn’t spoken during his monologue. My head was too busy spinning. There was so much to take in. I remember saluting him as he left thinking that this was probably the first person that I had in the past nine months who deserved a salute.

Lots to think about. Too much to think about. I was no caped crusader. I was tempted to just bail out and take the Townsville posting but something told me not to just take the soft option. Because that was what it would be. There was something inherently wrong with the attitude of the cohort o senior army, airforce and navy personnel who were trying to manipulate things to their own advantage. They were safely cocooned from the real world and probably had their hearts in the right place but didn’t seem to see beyond their own narrow point of view. And indeed, it was narrow. I wondered whether they knew anymore what a normal Australian’s life was like. I assumed that these people had been in their respective defence force since their teens. What did they know about having to work in a factory, on a farm or being unemployed? All they wanted was as big a slice of the pie as they could for the Defence Force and Colonel Atkinson’s concern and now my concern as well was that they were prepared to break laws and possibly blackmail people to get it. What if they were after some more fruit salad for their jackets and sent us in to another war to increase their reputation.

Colonel Atkinson had decided that the best way to make changes was to stay involved and remain in the game. After a long night of thinking I called him and told him that I had decided that I too would stay in the game.