Peter decided to wait and see what fate Brown and the two girls suffered. In an attempt to push things from his mind he plunged into his duties. While doing this he kept watching what was going on over at the officer’s fire. He noted Brown being taken over by a grim faced Graham.
‘HQ still haven’t heard the gossip,’ Peter decided. His stomach swilling with apprehension he chivvied them to hurry as it was nearly time for breakfast. A person appeared beside him.
“What do you want Cpl Rankin?” Peter asked.
“Sergeant Rankin. I have to get some stripes from the CQMS. Is Staff Costigan here?” Rankin replied.
Peter gaped in surprise. “Costigan has gone to get breakfast. What is the story?”
“I am the new platoon sergeant for Three Platoon.”
For a moment Peter was too stunned to respond as the shock hit him. His mind seemed to freeze up at the implications. He gestured to where Brown stood in front of the OC.
“What is happening to Sgt Brown?”
“Not sure. Going to the Control Group I think,” Rankin replied.
Peter nodded. He remembered the midnight conversation with Graham. Rankin now related a similar version of the story to him, concluding with, “That is why I need the sergeant’s stripes. The OC just promoted me.”
“I can lend you a brassard,” Peter offered. He dug in his kitbag and produced the article. “Congratulations,” he mumbled.
“Thanks,” Rankin replied. He was plainly pleased but embarrassed. As he fastened the rank brassard to his sleeve Peter noted several curious looks from members of HQ. They were now aware that something unusual was happening.
The two sergeants watched Graham march Brown away from the OC. Graham saw them and pointed. Brown walked towards them, looking very upset. Peter did not wish to speak to him so he moved away. Shaving occupied the next few minutes. While he shaved Peter kept glancing out of the corner of his eye at Brown and Rankin, who stood talking near the vehicles. Peter was consumed by curiosity. What was Brown’s fate? And would it be his?
Graham’s voice came to him. “Sgt Rankin, go and collect Three Platoon and move them to breakfast. Sgt Bronsky, get HQ over to set up.”
Peter wiped soap from his face. “OK HQ, line up!”
The fact that Rankin, wearing sergeant’s rank, marched 3 Platoon over for their meal opened a deluge of gossip and rumour. Peter stood supervising HQ, who were serving the cadets as they filed past. He listened to the gossip.
“Brown has been sacked!”
“Brown has been demoted for sneaking off with a girl.”
“With TWO girls!”
“Two! Lucky bugger!”
“Brown has lost his stripes for having sex with one of those tarts in Four Platoon.”
Peter watched Kate closely. As soon as she heard the first rumour she looked around at him. She did not smile. Instead she gave him a hard look and turned away. He went cold with fear, then hot with shame. Would she talk?
The worry gnawed at him, along with the humiliating knowledge that he had compromised himself. The awful realization dawned that Kate now had a real hold on him. She could blackmail him if she chose. He shook his head to dispel the thought. ‘Kate wouldn’t do that. She is a nice person,’ he told himself. But the niggling doubt remained. He realized he really knew very little about her.
Graham came through at the end of the mess queue.
“You look down Pete. Is that upset stomach still bothering you?”
“No,” Peter replied, but as he said it his stomach turned over and his bowels felt watery. “Headache. I didn’t sleep very well.”
“It looks it,” Graham replied, concern clear in his voice.
Peter felt a hot flush of shame. ‘I’ve let down my best mate!’ he thought wretchedly.
His discomfiture increased after breakfast when Cadet Ramsey arrived with her gear. She was all sulky and defiant. It was obvious she resented her transfer; and what people were saying about her. She dumped her gear. That raised not only the problem of where she was to sleep, but also of her effect on morale. Peter indicated two trees for her to use to tie her hutchie to. He had no time for more worry as Graham called to him to get HQ on parade.
The parade followed the usual sequence. Peter stood out the front of HQ dreading what might be coming. During ‘Reports’ Rankin’s voice giving 3 Platoon’s numbers was a sharp reminder to Peter of what his own fate might soon be. He watched Graham hand over to the 2ic. The CUOs were posted. Then the OC took over.
To Peter’s surprise Capt Conkey made no mention of Brown, or of misbehaviour. ‘I suppose there is no need,’ he thought gloomily. ‘He is Corporal Brown now and everybody knows it; and knows why!’
Instead Capt Conkey described the Section Competition which was to follow. The officers and sergeants were fallen out for a briefing while the section corporals were sent to do some last minute training. They had 45 minutes for this while the ‘Stands’ for the competition were set up. Peter divided HQ into two sections for the competition: the Medics and one he called HQ Section made up of the ‘Q’, Signals and Intelligence. Ramsey was placed in Signals.
At the briefing Capt Conkey made no mention of the night’s happenings but concentrated on the morning’s tasks. The Section Competition was a ‘Bullring’ of activities which the sections would rotate through. At each ‘Stand’ were one or more staff members, depending on the complexity of the activity. The OC pointed out the location of each activity, with waiting areas in the shade on either side. Then he nominated the people to run each stand. Lt Maclaren issued mark sheets and any stores required.
Peter was on the Navigation Stand, along with CUO Sherry and Stephen. They were given mark sheets, maps and compasses. Capt Conkey then took the others and positioned them at their stands. Graham gathered the company in the shade for Capt Conkey to explain to them what they had to do. Sections were then led to waiting areas and the competition began.
All this was just a blur to Peter. One after another he called cadets individually from their waiting area, asked them the set questions on map reading. He gave each the compass and checked whether they could take a bearing, and set the compass for night use on a given bearing. Then he totalled their marks and sent them on to the next waiting area.
It was non-stop for three hours. Peter went on working as though he was in a nightmare. At any moment he expected the dread summons to report to the OC. The arrival of HQ Section in the waiting area renewed his worries. Luckily he was spared having to question Kate as CUO Sherry called her first. Peter wiped perspiration from his eyes and took a drink from his waterbottle. For a minute he tried to relax and looked around.
Under a nearby tree Capt Conkey had the Control Group. He was briefing them for the Senior Exercise due to begin that night. Brown sat amongst them looking very depressed. Beyond them stood Graham, cane under his arm and clipboard in hand, while he assessed each section at Drill. Peter made a wry smile.
‘Graham is a good CSM. He really looks the part. And the cadets respect him because he knows his stuff- and he is fair.’ Peter’s remorse returned and he bit his lip. ‘Shame, regret, remorse, trapped!’ he told himself bitterly. ‘What is done cannot be undone. As the Bible says: “I have made my bed and must lie in it”.’ He sighed and called the next cadet.
From the Navigation Stand the sections went to an Observation Exercise in which teamwork was the key. Next was a task requiring the carrying of awkward sized logs a hundred metres, also a team activity. From there they went to Graham for the drill, then to radio stripping and assembling. There was a stand where cadets had to answer individually questions on general military knowledge. The results were then calculated as section averages. The same thing happened at the Pioneering stand. Also in the bullring were a First Aid stand, a team memory test and a physical team event, where the section had to run around a 50 metre circuit for 5 minutes, the number of laps being calculated on the slowest person in the section.
It was a relief to
finish the competition but there was no time to relax. Instead a burst of activity ensued. The unit was moving camp. The First Year platoons were marching to Black Knoll where they would spend the night doing defence training. The senior cadets were to do a night exercise, the details of which remained a secret. Within a quarter of an hour all the hutchies came down. Gear was packed ready for the march. Spare gear was stowed in kitbags which were placed in neat lines beside the vehicle track. They would be loaded on the truck.
Sergeants took work parties to the CQMS and were issued Ration Packs. The Signal Section assembled and tested their radios. Groups of cadets scoured the area ‘emu-bobbing’ to ensure there was no litter. Sand was shovelled over the ashes of fires. Waterbottles were filled. Within half an hour it was all done. Lunch arrived.
During the meal Peter sat where he could look at Kate. To his dismay and disappointment she did not look at him once. It made him even more confused and worried.
As soon as lunch had been eaten the First Year platoons shouldered their packs and filed off into the bush towards the Canning. The Control Group loped off in the other direction, leaving the ‘Seniors’: HQ and 4 Platoon, sitting in two groups in the shade near the vehicles.
Graham organized Peter and Sgt Griffin to have work parties fill in the latrines. Staff Costigan had all the stores and kitbags loaded onto the truck. Graham did a last walk around the area to ensure it was clean, then reported to the OC.
Capt Conkey nodded. “Thanks CSM. Into the Rover,” he ordered. Lt Standish also climbed in and the Rover was driven to Black Knoll. The 2ic, QM and ‘Q’ personnel went in the other Rover and the truck to the army camp. Only Lt McEwen was left, with the staff car as safety vehicle.
Denton sat in the shade and watched. “What do we do now Sergeant?” she asked.
“We rest and wait for orders,” Peter replied.
“When does this exercise start?”
“I don’t know. Not till the Control Group and First Years are in position I suppose,” Peter answered.
To avoid further conversation he settled back against his pack and closed his eyes. He felt very tired and the afternoon heat made him drowsy.
“E-e-e-e-e-k!” screamed Denton.
Peter jerked awake.
Denton screamed again. “A pig! A pig!” she cried.
Peter looked. A huge black wild pig, a real ‘Razor-back’ boar, had come trotting out of the gully where the girl’s latrine had been. At Denton’s scream it stopped, lowered its head and snorted.
“Stay still! Be quiet!” Peter commanded.
Instead Denton let out a wail and stood up. The boar saw the movement and began to emit savage grunts. Into Peter’s mind crowded stories of people being torn to bits by such creatures. He knew there was no hope of fighting with such an animal without proper weapons. Nor could they hope to outrun it. The monster was only fifty paces away.
The pig made a lumbering rush, then stopped and sniffed the air. It swivelled its head towards 4 Platoon who also scrambled to their feet in alarm. The pig became very agitated. Denton did not wait. She scuttled to the nearest tree and began to shinny up. The tree was not very thick and was a smooth-barked gum tree with no branches near the ground. Unable to get a proper grip Denton embraced the tree and tried to climb with a series of spasmodic jerks accompanied by much puffing.
The pig began pawing the ground and throwing dust in the air. Peter knew it was a potentially deadly crisis. He saw Lt McEwen’s worried face over at the car.
“Everyone shout and run towards it,” Peter yelled. He let out a terrific bellow and threw his arms up, then began running at the pig. “Yell!” he screamed. “Yell and follow me.”
To his relief CUO Bates took up the cry, urging 4 Platoon to charge. Others began yelling and running. The pig spun round and round in alarm. It made several short rushes, then suddenly turned and bolted. Peter was absolutely appalled by the speed at which the pig ran. ‘If it had attacked we would have stood no chance,’ he thought.
As the pig vanished into the bushes Peter stopped, chest heaving, and wiped his brow theatrically. People laughed from nervous relief. This changed to real laughter. Peter turned to see what they were laughing about. It was Denton. She had managed to get about three metres up the tree but was now slowly sliding back down. In the process she had split the seat of her trousers right around to expose pink knickers.
She slid down, face crimson with effort and embarrassment. The cadets settled themselves back on their packs, the pig being the main topic of conversation.
“Strewth! Couldn’t the bugger run!” Henning commented. “We would never have outrun it.”
“We wouldn’t have needed to,” Parnell offered. “We only needed to be able to outrun Denton.”
This brought another gust of laughter. Denton scowled as she dug in her pack for another pair of trousers.
Kate spoke up, “Don’t be horrible you boys,” she snapped. The male corporals sniggered.
“I’ll bet you shit yerself then Denton,” Henning commented.
“She will have to go off into the bush to change,” Parnell suggested. The boys snorted again, making pig noises.
“Stop it you blokes,” Peter ordered. He met Kate’s eyes. Still no smile. Cadet Smart wandered over from 4 Platoon and sat talking quietly to Ramsey. Both looked very unhappy. Denton went off with Kate and Kellie to the other gully to change. Peter sighed again and lay back.
‘Here we are, half way through camp and HQ is not a united team, or even a happy mob.’ He considered what he might be able to do to rectify this- and fell sound asleep.
A hand shook Peter. He tried to open his eyes but they seemed to be gummed shut. He rubbed them open and squinted into the glare. Graham’s voice penetrated.
“Wake up Pete. Grab your gear and hop in the rover.”
“Hummungf. Uh! Yeah,” Peter grunted as he sat up. His head throbbed. His mouth tasted horrible. He felt sweaty and thirsty. In an attempt to clear his thoughts he shook his head and looked around.
Almost all of HQ lay asleep in the shade. Kate lay nearby, flat on her back snoring, mouth open. There was some stirring amongst the sleepers as Graham also roused Staff Costigan and Cpl Lacey. Nearby CUO Bates stood talking to the OC and Lt McEwen beside the Rover. Peter looked at his watch. 1500hrs. He had slept for nearly two hours. Still feeling muzzy Peter struggled to his feet and lugged his pack and webbing over to the vehicle.
To clear his head Peter had a drink from his waterbottle and splashed water on his face. That felt better. He refilled the waterbottle from a jerrycan.
“Who looks after HQ?” he asked as Graham returned.
Graham jerked his thumb. “CUO Bates. They join 4 Platoon.”
“What are we, enemy?”
“Not sure. Hop in.”
They seated themselves in the back of the vehicle and helped Costigan and Lacey in. Bert grunted and squeezed out a thunderous fart as he sat down.
“Bert!” Peter cried.
“Ah! That’s better. Good army food you see,” Bert replied solemnly. Then he grinned.
Capt Conkey finished giving instructions to Lt McEwen and CUO Bates and jumped in. As he started the vehicle he called to Peter, “I hear you have been frightening the wild life Sgt Bronsky. As the unit Environmental Protection Officer I must reprimand you. Oh! And well done.”
“Thank you sir,” Peter replied. He blushed.
“What happened?” Graham asked.
“Big pig,” Peter replied. As the Rover drove out to the Canning road and along it towards the highway he related the incident. This caused much merriment.
“I wish I’d seen Denton up the tree,” Bert said. They all laughed.
Peter had been surprised when the Rover had turned left on the Canning Road. He had assumed that the exercise would be somewhere in the other direction. Instead they drove along Bare Ridge to the Highway and turned right. A minute later the tyres hummed onto the half-kilometre long concrete bridge across the Bunyip.
From where he sat in the back Peter could see upstream along the river. The view gave him a shock. ‘That is where Kate and I were yesterday,’ he thought. His eyes searched for the exact spot, but he wasn’t sure. Was it only yesterday! It seemed like a week. He bit his lip in remorse; and cursed his body when the memories started to get him aroused.
At the far end of the bridge Capt Conkey slowed the vehicle and turned it left onto a dirt track which curved around to go down under the bridge. They stopped in under the bridge which, even 500 metres from the nearest water, was ten metres above the river bed.
The OC switched off and told them to get out. They did so. Peter looked around. There was green grass on the slope and the usual litter of beer cans, bottles, paper and assorted junk. The massive concrete pylons were daubed with graffiti and crude messages.
Capt Conkey eyed the rubbish distastefully. There was no-one in sight. He said, “Alright Peter, would you stay with the vehicle? I don’t want to come back and find the spare wheel and tools missing. Get that radio out and set it up. You should be able to contact the company on Black Knoll. Try that while we get organized.”
“Yes sir. What are the Call Signs?”
“These are the exercise S.O.I.s,” Capt Conkey replied, handing him a folder opened at the right page. “Now, you others will come with me. CQ, you and Bert bring all your gear. You will be camping where I put you. CSM, you leave yours here. You and Peter are going somewhere else, but I want you to know the layout.”
While the others unloaded their gear Peter set up the army radio and established communications with the company. Lt Standish answered.
Peter reported to Capt Conkey, “Got them Sir. Loud and clear.”
“Good. Now, are you happy to be left here on your own?”
“Yes sir. I’ll be fine,” Peter replied.
“If anyone turns up and they give you any trouble just pick up the radio and walk up onto the highway. Don’t argue with them; and don’t worry about the vehicle. It is only government property,” Capt Conkey said. Indicating the small hand held radio on his shirt he added, “You can call us if there is a problem.”
The Cadet Sergeant Major Page 22
