The Cadet Under-Officer

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The Cadet Under-Officer Page 24

by Christopher Cummings


  After only two minutes Barbara held out her hand. “Give me your pack. You keep your webbing.” She pulled on the pack. “Come on!” They continued trudging in the soft sand. Roberts kept complaining until she snapped at him, “Oh shut up! Stop your whinging!”

  Roberts then plodded along with an ostentatious limp and an air of injured dignity. It was with real relief that they reached the mud and water of the Canning. Barbara again considered pushing on but in the end stayed and helped him across the river bed and up the bank to Coy HQ.

  As she topped the bank Barbara was relieved to see there was no NORMAC vehicle there and even more relieved when she got closer to find only one NORMAC man present, a fellow she had never seen before, who lay asleep on a stretcher under a tree.

  Barbara pointed to another tree. “There’s the Medic Corporal, Cadet Roberts. Get her to strap your ankle, then wait over there,” she said.

  Capt Conkey, Lt Maclaren and Mrs Standish were all sitting in the Command Tent where the Signals Corporal and another cadet manned two radios. Capt Conkey looked up and raised a quizzical eyebrow as Barbara approached. “What’s the problem CSM? I thought you were going with Four Platoon?” he asked.

  Barbara considered how to handle the situation and decided the direct approach was best in the circumstances. She marched over. “Excuse me, sir, but I have something important of a personal nature which I need to discuss with you. Lt Maclaren and Mrs Standish had better listen too.”

  She said this in such uncompromising tones that the officers, after exchanging worried glances, followed her. Capt Conkey began speculating on what it could be – ‘personal’? Had someone put her nose out of joint? Had someone made her an improper suggestion? It was for this reason the male teachers never interviewed one of the female cadets alone.

  Barbara led the way into the next tent. Its front was open and the back flaps closed. She turned to face the officers, all of whom now had worried frowns, and indicated they should enter the tent. This increased their apprehension that something serious had happened.

  She took out the envelope, then after checking that the NORMAC man was asleep and no-one else was around, turned to face them. “Sir, CUO Kirk has sent me to give you this and to explain it. But first I am to give you an apology from CUO Kirk and Lt McEwen that you weren’t informed about it earlier. He did explain, and after I tell the story I think you’ll see why you are only now finding out.”

  At Capt Conkey’s nod Barbara began the story, starting with the car chase, Elizabeth’s flight and how Graham had hidden her. As she talked she saw the brows of the officers furrowed deeper with concern and disbelief. Captain Conkey was astounded that Graham had hidden the girl but had great faith in the CUO’s integrity and judgement, having watched him closely in some very trying circumstances in the past. When he learned that Lt McEwen had also helped hide Elizabeth his worries about the authenticity of the story disappeared; to be replaced by doubts over what to do next.

  Several times Lt Maclaren went to ask questions but Barbara firmly insisted she finish the story. She related how 4 Platoon had hidden Elizabeth, moved her to Black Knoll and how they had made copies of all the written evidence; how Graham and Lt McEwen had tried to tell the OC the previous night, and how Graham had then gone on to post the other letter while Miss McEwen drove to Townsville.

  The envelope was then handed over and opened and the three officers examined the contents. They stood in silence, sweating in the stifling heat of the tent for at least five minutes while passports, computer discs and written notes were passed around.

  Capt Conkey looked up. A vehicle was coming - fast. “You say Lt McEwen left for Townsville yesterday evening to go to the Federal Police? This might be her.”

  Lt Maclaren looked through the small end window. “No. It’s a Landcruiser. NORMAC,” he added; the word now taking on a sinister meaning.

  Capt Conkey looked at his watch. “Just after ten thirty. Something should be happening by now.” He began returning the items to the envelope as the Landcruiser roared down the track. Something about the way it was being driven rang alarm bells. He was still so amazed at the story and its deadly implications that he hadn’t thought what to do next but when the vehicle screeched to a halt ten metres in front of the tent he said: “Say nothing.”

  He pushed the last passports and discs into the envelope and took a wad of papers from Lt Maclaren and tried to jam them in, except his fingers had suddenly become thumbs as he watched Bargheese and three armed security men spring out of the Landcruiser.

  Bargheese was like an enraged tiger. He pulled an automatic pistol from his pocket in a way which made Capt Conkey’s stomach turn over with a sickening lurch. The story was true alright! The man’s actions spoke with total clarity.

  Bargheese pushed into the tent, followed by Falls, who carried an automatic shotgun.

  “Where is your Number Four Platoon?” Bargheese rapped. The question told all four that the game was up. In Bargheese’s left hand was a girl’s white shoe. He kept the pistol pointed down while he looked at each in turn. Then he faced Capt Conkey. “Quick, where are they? Tell me!” he grated in a harsh voice, quite unlike his usual oily purr.

  Capt Conkey bristled from outrage and fear. To his own surprise he acted slowly and spoke coldly. “Excuse me! Do you mind? And you can put that gun away. There are lots of cadets outside.” He looked Bargheese directly in the eyes - angry, red-flecked eyes which sent chills down his spine - then deliberately half turned to face Barbara. He passed her the envelope - luckily an ordinary brown Government one.

  “Thank you CSM. You take this and put it in the Medical records. Then go and see how Cadet Roberts is. If he is really sick we’ll have him taken into hospital.”

  Barbara took the envelope, placed it in her left hand and in her best parade ground manner stepped back a pace, saluted and called: “Sir!” Then she turned and marched out of the tent past both NORMAC men.

  Captain Conkey then turned back to face the angry Indian.

  Bargheese glanced behind him. Falls stood at the doorway to keep others away. Berzinski, a black submachine gun in his hand, was kicking Murphy awake while Vincent and Lewis stood beside their vehicle with rifles. Bargheese turned back to face Capt Conkey, trying to master his rage. “I’ll ask again Captain. Where is your Number Four Platoon?”

  Captain Conkey looked directly at him. “What business is that of yours? Why do you want to see them?”

  ‘He’s stalling,’ Bargheese thought. ‘By his manner he knows!’ He trembled with fury and held out the white shoe. “The missing girl. She is with them. They are hiding her. Now where is she?” He glanced at his watch. 10.35. Time! At any moment the police could arrive! They had to move fast!

  Capt Conkey looked at Falls. “Your Security Chief here was at the Orders this morning. He knows where they have gone. They are on the north side of the Bunyip, across the Canning.” he said. Capt Conkey saw nothing to gain by not saying what had been in his orders and was currently marked on the Patrol Map in the Command Tent.

  Bargheese scowled. “That’s what you say! What guarantee have I that they have gone there?”

  ‘This bloke is on the edge of breaking,’ Captain Conkey thought. Anxious to avoid any situation that could result in cadets being hurt he replied. “None, other than what I said. I’ll ask again. What business is it of yours? What’s this girl done that makes her so important to you?”

  “As I said before. She has stolen some documents which are not rightfully hers. We want them back.”

  “And you think she still has them? Why should Four Platoon hide her?” Capt Conkey answered. He spoke slowly but his mind was racing, speculating on what CUO Kirk might be planning to do and trying to gain him time.

  Bargheese almost spat the reply. “Because her name is Elizabeth Schein and she is a student at your school. Your smart-alec Cadet Under-Officer Kirk obviously knows her and has hidden her.” Memories of two days of frustrating, sweaty searching rose to
further enrage Bargheese.

  “Elizabeth Schein eh!” Captain Conkey said. He did teach her- History. “These are pretty serious allegations. I think we had better inform the police. We can then have the story checked. 2ic, go and get the police.”

  The word ‘police’ seemed to spark Bargheese. He raised the automatic pistol, and clicked off the safety catch. Captain Conkey saw the anger and desperation in the man’s eyes and the sweat on his face, then his gaze focused on the muzzle of the pistol half a metre from his eyes. Sweaty fingers seemed to be fidgeting with the weapon’s trigger and he knew he was a hairsbreadth from death.

  “No police!” Bargheese snarled. “Don’t move or call out, or I shoot!” The Officers of Cadets stood facing him, frozen by the overwhelming reality of the situation.

  Falls licked his lips. He wished he could get going. ‘Things are getting too hot for me!’ he thought. “Take it easy Mr Bargheese,” he said.

  Bargheese took a deep breath, to control his anger. “I’ll ask again, where is your Four Platoon? If you lie I will kill this man.” He indicated Lt Maclaren.

  Capt Conkey pointed towards the next tent. “Where I said. You can check on the map,” he replied.

  “Is it far? How long will it take to reach them?”

  Capt Conkey shrugged. “I’m not sure. At least one and a half kilometres - might take half an hour to walk there. It’s pretty thick scrub along that river bank.” He wasn’t going to point out they could drive almost to the place.

  “Then we will go and visit them. You and this officer will come with us. I warn you we mean business. If you don’t co-operate we will shoot to kill,” Bargheese threatened. He was calculating in his mind. Half an hour - then a search of cadets, then half an hour back. He looked at his watch. It would be well after midday before they got back. By then the police would certainly have arrived. ‘I need to leave men here to prevent anyone talking - and to warn me on the radio that the police have arrived,’ he thought.

  For a few seconds he just stood, thinking hard, tyring to come up with a plan. ‘We can always leave by another route,’ he thought. ‘By the vehicle across at Ruin Island; or by helicopter. I also need to be sure there are no tricks or delays.’ He pointed at Murphy. “Murphy here helped capture a certain lady lieutenant named McEwen last night. She was carrying a briefcase full of stolen documents. She was on her way to the police. We have her prisoner at our base. If you don’t co-operate to the fullest then I will radio and she will die - very painfully.” Then he pointed at Mrs Standish. “And this lady. She is also our hostage. She will be kept here.”

  Captain Conkey’s heart pounded with apprehension. Sandra! Their prisoner! There was no doubt this evil man meant what he said. Bitterly he knew he was beaten. Then his ears, attuned to the command environment, heard the radio crackling - as it had several times during the conversation. What penetrated his consciousness was that it was the CSM’s voice talking on it and the Call Sign she was addressing was ‘Four Four’ - 4 Platoon! He spoke to distract and gain time in the hope she was sending a warning.

  “Listen Mr Bargheese, it seems to me we don’t have any choice but to do what you say but the moment one cadet is hurt this co-operation stops. Then, come hell or high water we won’t lead you to them. And you can flounder around those bloody rubber vines till you are blue in the face if you harm so much as one hair on Miss McEwen’s head. I demand you bring her here so we can see she is safe before we will move.”

  Bargheese curled his lip. “You are in no position to demand anything Captain. We go now - or else.” The pistol was pointed at Lt Maclaren.

  ‘Hell! Mel’s married with three kids,’ Capt Conkey thought ‘And so am I!’ He cast around for something he could do but could think of nothing. “Ok, let’s go.”

  Bargheese lowered the pistol, tossed the white shoe on a stretcher and led them out of the tent. “No tricks. I warn you again. We mean business. Now, Falls, you and Murphy stay here. Guard this woman. Call the helicopter to come here and to circle the area. When Martinez arrives he is to join you. Lewis, get a radio. You, Vincent and Berzinski, come with us. Alert all our lookout posts to report all cadet movements.”

  Falls now spoke, looking even more worried. “What do I do if the police arrive?”

  “Stall them. Act normal. These cadets don’t know what is going on.”

  “All those other cadets out searching are due back at midday. What do I do with them?” Falls said.

  “Keep them separate, over under the trees along the riverbank, and tell them to wait for further orders when the Captain gets back. Idiot! Do I have to think of everything for you?”

  The two glared at each other in hate.

  Bargheese then turned and snarled, “Right, Captain. Let us get moving.”

  Captain Conkey held up his hand. “I want us to take a radio. You can monitor what we say. I’ve got a hundred cadets out there I’m responsible for and we can also use it to rendezvous with Four Platoon.”

  Bargheese thought, then looked at the two cadets sitting in the signals tent. They looked bored and were reading comics beside the radios. The girl CSM sat at another table writing. Another thought crossed his mind. “Falls, sit in there and ensure they don’t send any warning on the radio. And act normally man. Yes, Captain, get a radio. Now hurry up!”

  CHAPTER 24

  INTO THE RUBBER VINES

  Graham and the medic walked back to their place in the line. The cadets pulled on their packs and began moving again. Once again the rubber vines seemed to snatch at them, catching waterbottles and ankles. Sweat poured, tempers frayed and several times NCOs had to tell cadets not to swear aloud. (The noise, not the swearing, being their main concern).

  After another five minutes of struggling the platoon came out on an animal pad beside the river. This wound around clumps of rubber vines and through stands of trees. Along the edge of the water was a thick belt of reeds growing in mud. The track followed the top of a sand ridge on which grew thousands of small trees a few metres high. On their right was an old flood channel, choked with what appeared to be an impenetrable tangle of rubber vines.

  The rubber vines extended through a gloomy forest for several hundred metres to where daylight showed the open country on top of the high bank. The vine forest was a forbidding place and had an oppressive effect on their spirits. Only the glimpses of water and open sand of the Bunyip’s bed counter-acted this. It was hot and there was no breeze. After only ten minutes the faces of the cadets were crimson with effort and shirts dark with sweat. A couple had pale faces indicating the heat was making them sick. Most weren’t very fit, nor used to carrying a pack, and it showed.

  Graham, who was very fit and did a lot of bushwalking was amazed and disgusted at how quickly the cadets tired and gave up. ‘How can we possibly escape if they can’t even walk one kilometre without stopping?’ he thought in exasperation.

  However he did not let his anger cloud his judgement and at 9:45, after they had gone perhaps 500 metres along the river bank, he signalled stop. The red bluffs of ‘Ruin Island’ were visible across the river. With groans of relief packs were dropped and cadets just flopped down.

  Graham walked forward to check each cadet personally. “Cpl Sheehan, let’s have two sentries a hundred paces further on. If they see anything they are to run back and report,” he said. He was worried that in their fatigue they would be caught ‘off-guard’. All his emotions seemed to be quivering and he had an uneasy feeling. Then he walked back to Cpl Kenny’s Section. Cpl Kenny’s leg was bleeding slightly but he insisted he was alright and directed Graham’s attention to three of his cadets.

  Lillis, the thin, pale girl, looked even paler and was sweating. She had just vomited. The heat and exertion were getting at her. Lawson, a small male cadet, was also looking very queasy. Cadet Woodhouse was complaining about stomach cramps. “Can I go back to the company?” she asked.

  “No. They are moving to where we are going. You only have to walk another few
hundred metres,” Graham replied. He shook his head in worry and told them all to drink, then went back to Margaret’s section.

  Roger met him. “I’ve posted two sentries at the rear,” he said.

  “Good work Roger. I was just coming to do that. We got any sick Cpl Lake? How are you feeling, Elizabeth?”

  “A bit chafed on the shoulders and my foot still hurts a bit,” Elizabeth replied. She looked flushed and fed up and was in fact sick of it all and just wanted to go home.

  Margaret looked sharply at her. “Where’s your pack Elizabeth?” she asked.

  “Oh! Oh! I...I...” She looked alarmed and then began to cry. “Oh I hate this! I just want to go home. I hate it!”

  “Yeah! But where’s your pack?” Margaret asked. She wasn’t impressed by the tears which made the two boys look at each other helplessly.

  Through muffled sobs and sniffles Elizabeth admitted she’d forgotten it. ‘I’m sure I had it when we stopped back in those rubber vines.”

  “Bugger it!” Graham swore. That was at least six or seven hundred metres back. He hesitated over who to send to get it. He was loath to go himself, possibly depriving the platoon of its commander at a critical moment but knew he was the fittest in the platoon. Also he had the pistol and he reasoned that if Bargheese came after them it would be along that track. ‘I could carry out a delaying action,’ he reasoned.

  “I’ll get it,” Graham said. “I’ll be as quick as I can. Sgt Dunning, you have command. If you hear shouting or shots take the platoon to the army camp by the best route and call the police. Don’t worry about me. LCpl Walsh, leave your pack here and come with me.”

  Graham dropped his own pack and set off. LCpl Walsh grumbled and got up.

  Anderson grinned and called after him, “Watch out he don’t try to cross the bloody river again Walshy !”

 

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