by Patrick Ford
Jack was entering his last year of study and he needed more time for that. As well, he expected to spend more time on his military work. Helen was busy planning Denni’s wedding. She still felt Jack’s sadness and missed Susan terribly. However, she decided that Denni needed her attention now. Mick had been co-opted to bring the garden up to a respectable standard. He was pleased about this awesome responsibility. He said, “It’s a bloody pity that little Yankee shelia ain’t ‘ere as well. We could ‘ave ‘ad a double weddin’.”
Armidale, New South Wales, Australia—1966
Study, run, parade, study, train, and drink until the pain subsided. Then do it all again. Jack sometimes thought he had a slim grasp on reality, moving through his life in a kind of dream. Bernadette was married and moved away. Maree was not often at home. Both girls mothered him by post. He loved his cousins. They offered unconditional love, and he availed himself of it. In May, he completed his First Appointment Assessments, with the subsequent award of a commission. He sat on his bed, gazing at his new uniform hanging on the wall. It was impressive. The red and black of his Regimental badges and the small black diamonds with red backing on the epaulettes looked back at him. Well, they seemed to say, this is what you always wanted; why are you so sad? He looked at the scroll:
ELIZABETH THE SECOND, by the Grace of God of the United Kingdom, Australia and Her other Realms and Territories Queen, Head of the Commonwealth, Defender of the Faith
To Jack Patrick Riordan—hereby appointed an Officer in Her Majesty’s Australian Armed Forces With Seniority of the 1st day of June 1966 WE reposing especial Trust and Confidence in your Loyalty, Courage and Integrity do by these Presents Constitute and Appoint you to be an Officer in our Australian Armed Forces. You are therefore carefully and diligently to discharge your Duty as such in the Rank of Second Lieutenant or in such other Rank as We may from time to time hereafter be pleased to promote or appoint you to, and you are in such manner and on such occasions as may be prescribed by us to exercise and well discipline both the Inferior Officers and Non-Commissioned Members serving under you and use your best endeavour to keep them in good Order and Discipline, and We do hereby Command them to Obey you as their Superior Officer, and you to observe and follow such Orders and Directions as from time to time you shall receive from Us, or any other your Superior Officer according to Law, in pursuance of the Trust hereby Reposed in you.
IN WITNESS Whereof our Governor General of Australia hath hereunto set his hand and Seal at Our Government House in the City of Canberra this 1st day of June in the Year of our Lord 1966 and in the Fourteenth Year of Our Reign.
By Command of His Excellency the Governor General.
Susan, Susan, why aren’t you here to share this moment with me? Where are you? Where is our baby? Oh, God, bring her back to me.
He was never going to get over Susan Baker.
Goondiwindi, Queensland, Australia—1966
The wedding had been a great success. Jack had given away the bride and the party went on for a couple of days; Australians knew how to have a good time. Helen knew how much strength it had taken for Jack to take part in the ceremony. She knew he was seeing only Susan in the wedding dress. She knew he was just holding together. When he disappeared from the party later in the evening, she knew where he’d gone.
Jack sat beside the Land Rover at the thinking place. He had built a small fire and sat on the old picnic blanket, gazing into it. Images of her came dancing on the flames, ephemeral figures he could not touch, hold, or kiss. Sometimes she held out to him a small pink bundle but it always receded before he could reach it. Sometimes she was crying. Always she looked at him with her soft brown bottomless eyes. “Oh, Susan,” he cried out in his agony. “I need you so much. I cannot live without you.”
He felt the spirit of the land descend on him. He felt it stirring in his core. He looked to the sky. It was a cold and clear night and he could see the stars in their billions. There are more stars than I can count, he thought, there are more people than I can count. Out there, she waits for me, how can I find her?
The trees began to sigh. He thought he could hear her, as she was on that last night they had made love, her soft voice carried to him on the breeze. “Look at me,” she whispered, “I wore these the first night we went out together. I so wanted you then, but you were so sweet, you wanted everything to be perfect… Please love me, Jack, love me tonight. I fear I may never see you again… Love me, my beautiful little bush kid; love me forever and ever.” He stirred the fire. Flames leapt up, and, carried on them, she returned.
“Her?” said Susan. “How do you know?”
“I know,” he said. “I know.”
“Look at me.”
“Love me forever and ever.”
“Look at me…look at me…look at me. Look at me…”
Sam began to whimper and crept close to him so that her head was in his lap.
Ollie found him there in the morning. He had fallen on his side, his face covered with frozen tears; the fire dead. Ollie looked down on him from his horse. He had known this boy since he was born. He knew the strength in him. Now he knew Jack was at the end of his endurance.
Ollie dismounted, wrapped Jack in the blanket, and put him in the Land Rover. Then he wept for him too, for he loved him like a son, and there was nothing he could do to help him.
The noisy miners and the parrots came to see him, but they were silent.
Armidale, New South Wales, Australia—1966
Somehow, Jack found the strength to go on. He studied, he trained, he marched and he ran. In August, his old company commander sent for him. Jack found Lt. Colonel McIntosh, now the regiment’s commanding officer, in the drill hall supervising the swearing in of a group of recruits. Numbers were flooding in now, for if you undertook to serve in the CMF for three years, you were exempt from conscription and service in Vietnam. The new recruits were poor specimens for the most part, not like those before who had joined out of a sense of service to their country. If I had my way, thought Jack, these bloody draft dodgers would be on the first boat to Cam Ranh Bay.
Jack saluted the Colonel. “You wanted to see me, sir?”
“Ah, Mr. Riordan, your promotion to Lieutenant has just come through. Congratulations, my boy. Now, Army HQ has been looking for a few officers to serve full time with our American friends. It may mean spending a month or so in Vietnam, not too dangerous, just fact-finding and orientation. You might even get a medal. The Yanks hand out Purple Hearts if you cut yourself shaving in the face of the enemy. They may have a few to spare.”
“When would this be, sir? I have my final examinations soon.”
“Oh, not until the New Year. The rainy season starts in April, so it will most likely be February or March.”
“Let me think about it, sir. I am not sure of my plans for next year.”
“Very well, Mr. Riordan. It would be a most significant step forward in your career, and you have a very promising one before you. This might be the cream on the top. Opportunities like this are rarely offered to reserve officers.”
Almost as they spoke, D Company of the Sixth Battalion, Royal Australian Regiment, was fighting off an attack by Viet Cong and elements of the North Vietnamese Army in a rubber plantation at a place called Long Tan. More than two thousand of the enemy ambushed one hundred eighty men of D company. The fierce battle that followed resulted in more than three hundred enemy casualties at the cost of seventeen Australian lives. As they had done in two World Wars and Korea, the men of the Australian Infantry proved they had no equal. Jack read of this feat of arms with mixed feelings. He was proud of his compatriots, for they had earned a US Presidential Citation. However, one of the Australian dead was a man he had been at school with. This put a human face on the war. From now on, Jack would look at war through different eyes.
Jack continued his studies. In November, he completed his final examinations and in December, he attended a Junior Officers’ Advanced Infantry Course at th
e Jungle Warfare School. Emphasis was on anti-guerrilla warfare in Vietnam.
Worcester, Massachusetts, USA—1966
Jacqui Susan was a beautiful newborn, and now, approaching her first birthday, she was captivating. She had her parents’ dark hair, and her mother’s milk coffee skin and big brown eyes. Approaching Easter, she had been in a fractious state, often crying, but on Easter Saturday morning as Susan held her she suddenly stopped crying. Her little body tensed, an expression of faint surprise passed over her face, and she appeared for all the world to be listening to some faraway sound.
Suddenly, she relaxed, a smile of pure joy appearing on her little face. She looked up at Susan and began her happy gurgling routine, her smile never diminishing. Soon she was peacefully asleep. When she awoke, her bad mood had disappeared. Susan had felt it too, a visceral stirring. She broke out in goose bumps, was momentarily breathless. It was Jack. She knew it was Jack. He is at the thinking place. He is calling for us, he loves us, he wants us to be with him. Oh my darling baby, Daddy is waiting for us. We will wait for him, no matter how long it takes.
* * * *
Sarah did not come to full term. She was carrying twins; the two little boys were born in July. They were healthy, and under the tender care of the pediatric nurses, soon reached normal weight. Susan was happy for Sarah. She loved the little boys and looked forward to the time when they would become playmates for Jacqui Susan.
Marci was satisfied. Now she could put in place her plans for John. She had already started. Sarah had had a difficult pregnancy. Despite the fact that Marci spent most of her time tending to her, she took every chance that presented itself to undermine John’s role in his family. She berated him for his frequent absences at work, conveniently forgetting that he was studying as well as working. She found fault with most things he did. Moreover, all the time, she was in Sarah’s ear.
“I think you’ve made a big mistake, my dear.”
“He should have more consideration for you.”
“He’d rather spend time at work than with his family.”
“You’re lucky you’ve got me here. What would you have done if you were in Australia on your own?”
“I told you this would happen. Look at Susan and her little brat. Do you think he cares for you?”
“He won’t last. He’ll soon be scuttling back home with his tail between his legs.”
Soon John was stopping off for a beer or two on his way home from work in order to spend less time in Marci’s company. These stopovers began to get longer, more frequent. Sarah began refusing him sex. It was a filthy thing anyway. Look where it got Susan! I don’t want any more babies. Marci had even gone through Sarah’s wardrobe. She disposed of anything daring as not suitable for a young mother. “And get rid of that disgusting lingerie. Only harlots wear that kind of thing. Get something more sensible!”
In the face of this well directed and concerted attack, John Starr had no chance. In November, he took a job in Cheyenne, Wyoming. He obtained visiting rights to the boys, but not custody. He would spend the next fifteen years paying alimony. He couldn’t even return to Australia, because he would lose all access to his children.
He never saw or spoke to Marci Baker again.
Marci was at the top of her game. She had her children with her, all under her control. They depended on her for everything. She even talked Sarah into moving back home.
Susan, secure in the knowledge that Jack was waiting for her and Jacqui, drifted into a phase of serenity, of detachment from her surroundings, from the mother she despised. Every now and then, she felt the stirring, the sensation of floating off on a different level. She knew then that Jack was at the thinking place. She could wait. She thought it would not be long now.
* * * *
Sarah sat and looked at the documents laid out before her. Her divorce had become final; she had been married less than two years. How did this happen, she wondered. She thought of the love she had had for John, of the longing she had had to make love to him, how he had welcomed the news of her pregnancy. How had this happened? She thought back over the last year and began to understand the role her mother had played in all of it. Sarah had been weak, still young and dominated by her mother. She had always been a little capricious, now she began to blame her mother for her unhappiness.
Winter set in. It snowed and snowed. Blizzards swept down from the Maritimes and Newfoundland. They couldn’t leave the house for days on end. The girls often thought of those sunny brisk days of winter in Armidale. Christmas came to a house filled with tension and hate, populated by a domineering, bitter mother and two resentful and unhappy daughters.
Jimbo was unhappy too, but next year he would be eighteen and could escape this poisonous place.
Chapter 7
Down to Dusty Death
Bien Hoa Air Base, South Vietnam—1967
Lt. Jack Riordan walked down the ramp of the USAF C130 Hercules transport aircraft at Bien Hoa. He had thought this place looked impressive from the air, as much as he could see through thick clouds. Here, on the tarmac, it was even more impressive. All around he saw aircraft, both combat and transport, both South Vietnamese and American, taking off and landing in a continuous roar amid the stink of jet fuel. Trucks, jeeps, and forklifts were everywhere, loading, unloading, and scurrying here and there. Jack saw line after line of helicopters, Bell UH-1 Iroquois, known as Hueys, like the ones he had trained with, taking off and landing. Overall, a choking cloud of red dust dimmed what sun had penetrated the cloud cover. It was oppressively hot.
Jack had come via Richmond RAAF Base in Australia, with two other officers, one an engineer, the other a gunner. Jack had made a major decision about his military career. He had taken up a six-month secondment to the regular army, as an infantry officer attached to Eleventh Battalion, Royal Australian Regiment. The assignment these three officers had was three-fold. Firstly, to assess the fitness and quality of the United States troops. Secondly, to do the same for the South Vietnamese. Thirdly to look at improvements in the integration of Australian and United States forces. The gunner, Captain Dave Donald, was in overall command. Lt. Allen Scott was to make assessments from an engineering point of view.
Jack had approached this assignment with a fatalistic attitude. What could they do to him, kill him? He was already half dead inside. He despaired of ever seeing Susan again. He told his mother of this at his last visit to Ballinrobe. Helen was despondent. She could see how much her beautiful son suffered and tried to boost him a little. “Jack,” she said, “You have the rest of your life before you, fifty years or more. Denni is having a baby; Ballinrobe needs you. Ollie will not be here forever. I will not be here forever. Paddy needs you to carry on your stewardship. There is great potential here. Maybe someday someone else will come into your life to make you complete.” Jack shook his head. Helen did not know about her granddaughter, she did not know how committed he was to the idea that Susan was waiting for him.
A Jeep screeched to a halt beside them, driven by a very relaxed Negro Corporal, smoking a reefer. He looked at Dave.
”Y’all de Aussie guys? Jump in here, man, Major do wan’ see y’all.”
The three officers looked at each other. “C’mon, move yo ass. Ah got tings to do.” They got into the Jeep. The driver set off in a shriek of tortured tyres. They sped across the field and came to a sliding stop outside a long building. “Dis ‘ere’s de Officer Quarters. Y’all come back here after you be seein’ de Major.” The Jeep sped off again and about 100 yards later, after the driver had gone up and down all four gears, they arrived at a larger building.
“Ok, move yo ass, dis ‘ere’s where y’all goin’.”
They walked into a building that was obviously some kind of administrative centre. There was a reception area ahead with a cluster of enlisted men gathered in front of it. They all appeared to be sergeants.
“Bugger me, that driver was a card. I hope they’re not all like that,” said Allen.
&n
bsp; “I’d like to see a bit more discipline,” said Dave, “What do you think, Jack?”
“Well, he would have been in for a surprise if I’d had him when I was a CSM.”
The soldiers had disappeared. A smart looking Corporal looked over at them. “Sir, are you the Australian officers on detachment? Major Wood will see you now.”
Major Wood was a small, dapper white man. His uniform was crisply starched; he wore two rows of medal ribbons despite the fact he had never fired a shot in anger; he looked like he had just stepped out of a recruiting poster. He waited standing near his desk. No one moved. No one spoke. The three Australians looked expectantly at him. Finally, he snapped, “Don’t you salute anymore?”
“Major,” said Dave, “In our army you don’t salute an officer when he is not wearing a hat. It is rude because he cannot return your salute. In any case, we do not salute officers in the field. It makes their rank evident to any enemy who are watching, especially snipers.”
The American looked slightly embarrassed. “Sorry, gents,” he said, “my mistake. Please accept my apologies. I have a lot to learn about you Aussies. Please take a seat. I will have my clerk bring in some coffee, and then we can get on with our briefing. They chatted about their different countries, about their armies. Major Wood decided, after hearing some of Dave’s tall tales that he would go to Australia on his next leave.
Finally, they got down to business.
“Gentlemen,” said the Major, “The general situation is a little confused. We are in control of all the major towns and cities. Our troops are continually sweeping areas for Viet Cong and NVA. Many times, we find no one, so it appears we have been successful in cleaning out areas of the enemy. Our body counts are good and we expect to secure the majority of the country by the end of this year.”
