Chapter 21

I checked up briefly on the men, or would have, if we had been allowed. There seemed an undue need for haste and all I could do was get an assurance by the captain in charged of their posting that they would be given some R & R before going back on active duty. I wondered what they would make of the splitting up of our unit and how they were being scattered to all points of the armed forces. They wouldn’t complain, of that I was sure, but I wondered whether they would come to the conclusion that there was more to their last mission in Z force than was being let on. Wilf and I had no answers save for the obvious one that some cover-up was being put in place. We hadn’t been told what was to happen to us after Brisbane. It would be devastating to me to see both of us head in different directions. You don’t get to make friends all that much as a ranking officer in the armed forces. I often envied the camaraderie of the lower ranks. We had to remain aloof from them theoretically so that they knew what the chain of command was. It didn’t matter really when you were in battle, there was never likely to be a mutiny. Weak and vacillating officers fell by the wayside quickly and real leaders, be they sergeants, corporals or privates, shone and the men followed them. A good officer recognised that and used that. I certainly used Wilf in that way and even if he had been a corporal, he was the right man for that ill-fated ground assault. All the men and I knew that. It was what made us so effective. Rank didn’t matter when bullets were flying.

We were flown to Brisbane and both of us felt that we were like lambs being led to the slaughter. I decided I would go meekly. I had said my piece. I wasn’t sure about Wilf. Would he fire up or shut up? What would his fragile state of mind be like? It had felt strange to sleep in proper beds, not hammocks. It felt even stranger to don full and clean uniforms. I didn’t like this faux image that we created though. It belied what life for us was really like. I was totally unprepared for what happened as we were driven to the building on the corner of Edward and Queen St. Our driver stopped abruptly and then raced around and opened the door leading on to the footpath. There seemed to be a crowd of people on the steps leading up to the five-storey building that housed the headquarters of the Armed Forces for the south-west Pacific area. The crowd seemed to part before us and standing at the top of the stairs was a man, we knew we had to salute before we went past him. He had that much ribbon and braid on him and the insignia told us he was a Major General. He was flanked by a number of other officers and was obviously speaking to the crowd in front of him. Flashes of cameras went off occasionally indicating that the press were making up a large number of the crowd. It was terribly confusing and we edged to the right to avoid the scene only to be escorted by a waiting captain over towards the Major General who stopped speaking as the same captain whispered something into his ear. Then the rest seemed like some bizarre dream.

“Ladies and gentlemen, you must get sick and tired of the likes of me telling you lots of mundane things about our war effort, so I’d like to introduce you to one of our elite soldiers who represents the bulk of the soldiers who never get the recognition they thoroughly deserve. Lieutenant Wilfred Downs could you come here for a moment,” the Major General ordered. He said it with a smile, but we understood it was an order. Wilf looked at me almost as if begging for help, but he was ushered forward by the captain. The captain’s assistant effectively blocked any opportunity for me to go with Wilf. It was a coordinated move like we used to do on the farm in Dunedin when we were separating the ram from the ewes. It was masterfully done.

“Let me tell you a bit about this man so you can see what some of our boys do overseas. As a corporal in Malaya his unit was trapped behind enemy lines. His sergeant and lieutenant had both been killed and the platoon was under heavy fire. This young man took charge and managed to get everybody out alive, crossing battlelines on a number of occasions. When the platoon arrived in Singapore, the city was under siege and this plucky man took his men down to the docks only to be confronted by a bureaucratic British Officer who wouldn’t led the platoon board one of the last ships out. Corporal Downs’ men hadn’t eaten for days and had just finished a fifty-mile trek in three days. The officer was hoping to get his own men who had been working in the administration offices out and told Corporal Downs to shove off and from what I hear gave him a shove to boot. In a typical Australian fashion, the officer found himself on the ground and the platoon he had tried to stop were on the boat. We had to smooth things over with the British over that, but I would have done the same as Corporal Downs. When the truth came out, he we actually promoted him.

“But that’s not all, he was assigned to a dangerous solo mission on an island to let us know of shipping movements. Unfortunately, he was trapped there when about fifty Japanese landed. Not only did he get a New Zealand civilian off the island, but managed to get all the islanders off as well without loss of life, except for a large number of Japanese.

“He represents the sort of men who are keeping us safe here and are advancing our war effort to the point where the Japanese have lost a lot of what they have gained. I brought him here today to show you why we are winning the war,” the Major General concluded.

Wilf’s words in reply were succinct and I don’t know just if those not knowing of the real reason we were there, understood the meaning behind them. “I just follow orders.” The press and members of the public who were there probably thought his humility was what shone through. I watched his eyes. They were firmly fixed on the Major General who must have understood the import of the four words, because he was first to break the staring contest.

“Lieutenant Downs is being flown down from here to Canberra where the Prime Minister and Governor General will personally present him with his promotion to captain and well-deserved medals. I understand his plane is leaving shortly so you will understand if he doesn’t hang around for questions,” the captain who had spoken to the Major General interrupted.

We were suddenly whisked away back to the waiting car without even having gone into the building. As we were being quickly put into the car, I was told that I was being given leave and would be flown to New Zealand. All this was such a mad experience. I’d had to pick my jaw up off the steps when the Major General spoke and now there it was again down on the floor of the car. What the hell was going on? Wilf looked as bewildered as I was. The car headed straight back to the airfield. We didn’t say much. We had a lot to digest and as the car had been provided by the people who had organised the publicity charade on the steps, we didn’t trust the driver. He on the other hand was talkative. He informed us that we were to be flown down to Sydney where I would board a plane to Auckland and Wilf would be conveyed to Canberra. Maybe on the way to Sydney we would get time to talk, I thought.

We took a RAAF Lockheed Lodestar from Brisbane and managed to chat a bit on the way. Wilf believed that his promotion and my leave were only being given to buy our silence. There seemed to be something deeply wrong with that to me. We could have just been hung out to dry if what happened on ***** came out. There had to be something more to this than just the accidental deaths of the Japanese. Someone’s backside very high up needed to be covered. It was beyond me, but something smelt very fishy. I jokingly asked him what he would say to the Prime Minister as he got his medals. His response was what I would have expected…. something about suggesting a trip to the taxidermist should be considered.

We were in different armies, but Wilf had leap frogged me with the promotion. I wasn’t envious at all. I looked at the serious face opposite me and knew he would be a far better leader of men than I would. I made up my mind then and there that I could serve those in the field better if I became the buffer between them and the egos and the self-importance of the likes of the Major General and his officious captain. Wilf and I shook hands at Sydney as he disembarked. A smaller plane would take him on to Canberra. The Lodestar was going on to New Zealand and taking other Kiwis home for some R & R. My plane refuelled and I sat back in the Lodestar lost in thought, trying to make sense of all of the things that had occurred since we left the Griselda. Suddenly someone sat next me letting his kit bag drop heavily on the floor. I looked up and shook my head.

“Never been to Dunedin. Sound like a great place. Good name too. My dad couldn’t believe how skinny I stayed because I never was done eatin’.” Wilf must have seen the look on my face, for wearing that familiar grin on his face he said, “Fuck Canberra! Fuck the PM! Fuck ‘em all!”