After school he got to the library, but not to be with Marjorie. She had to go shopping with her mother. Willy began to wonder if Marjorie’s mum knew more than he thought. ‘Maybe she is making it hard for Marjorie and me to be together?’ he thought.
So he contented himself using the internet to research plane crashes. It came as something of a revelation to him. ‘I didn’t realize there had been so many!’ he thought, noting a ‘Beaufighter’ crash near Giru, south of Townsville; bombers laden with mustard gas bombs flying into the side of Mt Elliott, also near Townsville, ‘Mitchells’, ‘Ansons’ and P40 fighters going down in the sea or vanishing. He was particularly saddened to read an account of how a transport plane had crashed off Holloways Beach in 1944, killing all on board including Major General Vasey, the commander of the army’s 7th Division.
‘Flying was a pretty risky business in those days,’ he mused.
That night Willy slept well for the first time since the rescue. He woke on the Friday feeling rested and fresh- and very horny. ‘Oh! I hope Marjorie and I can get together today,’ he thought. But it was not to be. She was kept in at lunch time for talking in class and not doing her homework. Then she had to go straight home to do her chores because she was not going to be home on Saturday afternoon or Sunday.
“We will make it up,” she promised.
That sent Willy’s hopes soaring but also made him think of a saying he had heard once that ‘you never catch up on the ones you miss out!’ He had to console himself by riding home and doing some of his own household tasks. He then busied himself with some work on one of the model aircraft he had under construction. Model making was one of his hobbies and he had a large collection. These ranged from 1:72 and 1:35 scale plastic kits to much larger flying models made of balsa or of plastic. These were powered by either petrol engines or electric motors and were radio controlled.
‘I haven’t done much model making recently,’ he thought. But he knew why- too much time and energy taken up by Marjorie and by Air Cadets.
Friday night meant Air Cadets. Willy always looked forward to that. He put on his blue uniform with real pride, making sure it was well ironed and that his black boots shone with polish. His mother drove him to cadets. As usual he got there half an hour early because he liked to help and it gave him an opportunity to talk to other cadets from different schools. It also gave him a chance to speak to Marjorie, although he made very sure they never did anything at cadets that could be construed as ‘fraternization’.
As soon as his mother had dropped him off Willy made his way across to the timber hut that was their depot and went inside. There were already a dozen people there. To Willy’s disappointment Marjorie was not there yet so he went over and saluted Flying Officer Turnbull and the CO, Flight Lieutenant Comstock, then went to talk to Joel Carpenter, another Leading Cadet, and Cpl Fazukis.
Inevitably the conversation turned to the ‘Catalina’ flight and the rescue. Joel was obviously jealous at having missed out but still wanted to know the details. While Willy described the incident they were joined by his section leader, Sgt Sarah Sleaford and by two other cadets. When Joel wanted to know all the gory details of the body in the water Willy shook his head and had to walk away.
He joined another group, only to be asked on arrival by John Soper, “Hey Willy, what happened to that bloke we rescued?”
Willy could only shake his head. “No idea,” he answered. But the question made him think. “He went back to his home in Sydney, I suppose.” Jacob had certainly dropped out of the news quickly enough but that did not surprise Willy. ‘Nothing much stays in the news for more than a day or two,’ he told himself.
The arrival of Stick and Marjorie gave him the diversion he wanted. He hurried across to join them. With them was a blonde girl in civilian clothes. She looked to be the same age as Marjorie and her face was familiar.
“Hello,” Willy said politely, after giving Marjorie a big smile.
Marjorie smiled back and then indicated the girl with her. “You know Vicki? She is in my class at school. She has come along to have a look.”
Willy nodded. Now he could place the girl. He had often seen Vicki around the school but had not known her name. They started talking cadets, trying to convince Vicki that she would enjoy it and that she should join.
The training then began. First there was a parade. The flight Willy was in, 16 Flight, went on parade behind the much older 104 Squadron. Willy enjoyed the parade and compared it to the army cadet parade he had watched on Wednesday afternoon. In outline it was similar: the Warrant Officer (Drill) (W.O.D) called markers and the flights then marched on from the side, did a left turn and stood at ease. He then ordered a right dress and eyes front then the Flight Sergeants called the roll. After that the WOD handed over to Flt Lt Comstock.
The cadets were then moved into the hall and seated for end-of-year theory exams. These were on the organization of the RAAF, Theory of Flight and Aircraft Recognition. Willy really enjoyed these tests and was sure he got nearly every answer correct. After that there was a short canteen break, during which he talked to Marjorie and Vicki.
The squadron then did an hour’s rehearsal for the passing-out parade. Willy enjoyed that, even though he was just one of the cadets in the ranks. The whole ritual and sequence interested him and he was determined to do his best. He actually enjoyed drill and took pleasure in holding himself still and in the self discipline of trying to make his muscles do exactly what he wanted.
After the dismissal parade Willy sought out Marjorie to check that she was attending the army cadet passing-out parade the next day. She looked deep into his eyes and said she was. The look in her eyes made Willy’s heart beat faster and he went dry in the throat. “I wish we could get together tomorrow,” he murmured, keeping his voice down so that no-one else could hear.
“We can tomorrow night,” Marjorie said. “Come over and we will play board games or something.”
“Or something,” Willy hinted.
Marjorie giggled. Stick, who was walking towards them said, “Or something what? What are you two planning?”
“Oh, nothing,” Marjorie replied, trying to look innocent.
“Nothing eh? Well that nothing might cost you a fair bit to buy my silence,” Stick answered, giving them a wink and a leering grin.
Willy felt a rush of guilt and went red. Marjorie just poked her tongue. “You tell on me and I will tell on you,” she retorted.
That silenced Stick at once and he changed the subject to the army cadet’s passing-out parade. Arrangements were made to meet at the school oval. They had permission to wear their Number 1 uniform and Willy was looking forward to that. He often saw the army cadets in their uniforms but he rarely got the chance to wear his where they could see him.
Willy walked with Marjorie and Stick to the car park and said goodnight, then went to his mother’s car. He knew his mother approved of Marjorie- though would not approve of them being too naughty. That made him feel another surge of guilt for trying to deceive her.
At home he had supper, then a shower because it was the last day of October and the night time temperature still hovered around 23 degrees C. When this was coupled with a humidity level of 70 or 80 % it made it very sticky. As neither of his parents liked air conditioning he had to lie under his fan with the window open to get cool.
But it was not the heat and humidity that kept Willy awake until well after midnight. It was shot thoughts about Marjorie. For several hours he lay and fantasized about having sex with her. Finally he drifted into a restless slumber.
Next morning he felt tired and hot but made himself get up at the normal time and have his shower and breakfast. Then he set to work on his Saturday chores of mowing, sweeping and tidying up. His father and mother both joined him in the garden, snipping, weeding and pruning. Sweat poured out of them in rivulets, necessitating frequent cold drinks and a good long morning tea break.
After lunch Willy ironed his uniform and poli
shed his boots. His mother had insisted from the day he joined the air cadets that he do all these things himself and he now accepted it as part of his duties. When his uniform was ready he lay down on his bed to read. Despite the 34 degree heat he drifted into a fitful sleep.
By 3:30pm he was up and having a cold shower. After that he dressed carefully in his uniform, then had another large cold drink. At 4:15pm he and his parents set off in the car for the High School. On arrival they parked the car and joined the crowd of spectators. By 4:40pm they were seated on a row of chairs under the trees beside the school oval.
While they waited one of the army Officers of Cadets, Lieutenant Hamilton, came walking along greeting people. When he got close Willy stood up and self consciously saluted.
Lt Hamilton returned the salute then fixed Willy with an intense stare. “You aren’t going to try any tricks like last year are you Willy?” he queried.
Willy blushed and shook his head. “No sir,” he replied.
“There had better not be or it will all end in tears,” Lt Hamilton warned as he walked on.
Willy sat down embarrassed, perspiration from his anxiety adding to the trickle from the humid tropical heat. His blue shirt was soon soaked and he felt quite put out. Both his parents gave him sympathetic but ‘I-told-you-so’ looks. Marjorie took his hand and squeezed it until he pulled it away. “Not when we are in uniform Marjorie!” he hissed.
The army cadet’s passing-out parade began a few minutes later. The VIPs: Capt Conkey, the Principal, Mr Crossland, an army Lieutenant Colonel, Squadron Leader English and Flt Lt Comstock, two officers from the Navy Cadets, and a few other dignitaries moved to the front row of seats and the displays began. Captain Conkey then took over, speaking over the PA system to the parents. As he did Willy was reminded that in his youth Captain Conkey had been a regular soldier and had fought in the jungles of South East Asia. The row of bright medals hanging from their coloured ribbons pinned to the left side of his shirt showed that. Seeing his teacher wearing the army ceremonial uniform gave Willy a peculiar feeling of pride and satisfaction.
When the army cadets moved into position in front of the audience Willy was able to pick out his friends and rivals. Graham was the platoon sergeant of Number 3 Platoon. Roger, a lance corporal in Number 4 Section. Stephen commanded 6 Section and Peter was in charge of the HQ Signals Section. Willy was also able to pick out Barbara. She stood in a section behind a very attractive blonde female corporal. ‘Gwen someone or other in Year 10,’ Willy remembered. He shifted his attention back to Barbara. Then he shook his head and muttered, “She is just so lovely!” But what to do about her? He could not decide.
The previous year the displays had included one showing piece by piece the organization and rank structure of the company; a second one showing the types of training activities done, with each section doing a different short act; and a third showing some drill by the corporals. This year the three displays began with the organization of the unit. This was followed by two that were races between the sections. The first race was to carry out First Aid on a ‘snakebite’ victim and get him on an improvised stretcher quickly (1minute and 15 seconds for the winners!). The second race was much more entertaining and involved the sections erecting a shelter using only two broom handles, some thin rope, 6 pegs and one Shelter Individual.
To Graham’s obvious discomfiture both races were won by 2 Section. The company then moved off for a drink (It was very hot and humid, even at 5:00pm) and to prepare for the formal ceremonial parade.
Willy really enjoyed watching the parade. He saw his friends trying their very best to do their drill. Graham in particular did an outstanding job. As a temporary sergeant he was the centre escort in the five strong cadet Flag Party. As such he marched between the two CUOs who were carrying the Australian flag and the school flag.
The three sergeants guarding the flags were of particular interest to Willy. All wore scarlet sashes over their right shoulders and carried old World War 2 Lee Enfield .303 rifles. They did the old drill with these, the rifles at the ‘slope’ over their left shoulders. Added to the shimmer of the CUO’s swords and the glitter of polished brass and badges it all looked very military to Willy. He even admitted to himself that it did look impressive and that he was just a little jealous!
After a march past and an ‘advance in review order’ there were speeches and the presentation of prizes. Graham got the award for Best Junior NCO, it being explained that he won the award while still a corporal. Once again Willy experienced a twinge of envy.
CHAPTER 7
AIR MUSEUM
Through all of the army cadet parade Marjorie sat close beside Willy, pressing her hip and leg against his. As Graham marched past she leaned over and whispered, “Gee, Graham is really handsome isn’t he?”
Willy felt another spurt of jealousy but snapped back, “Well, you can have him if you like.”
Marjorie shook her head. “No. I love you,” she replied. “Besides, he is going out with Carol Battersby.”
“Is he?” Willy asked doubtfully. “I heard rumours he wasn’t doing very well.”
“Well, she’s here watching and giving him big smiles,” Marjorie answered.
Willy’s gaze followed her pointing hand and he saw Carol sitting along to his right. He was surprised to see her, both because she lived near the Castor Sugar Mill which was quite some distance away, and because he had never thought she would be interested in anything military.
After the parade Willy went with Marjorie and Stick to talk to the army cadets after they had been dismissed. Willy made a point of congratulating Graham. While he did this he had Marjorie’s story confirmed. Carol was standing with Graham and had her hand on his arm. Graham looked extremely pleased. ‘And so he should,’ Willy mused.
They were joined by several Navy Cadets, resplendent in their dress whites. These included Andrew Collins, his big sister Carmen and Tina Babcock, Andrew’s girlfriend. For a few minutes they discussed the differences between the drill done by each service.
Stephen joined them. “What are we doing tonight?” he asked.
To Willy’s embarrassment Marjorie giggled. That made the others all look from him to her, then grin. Willy blushed and knew it. Even Marjorie went red when she realized what she had done. He said, “We are playing board games at Marjorie’s.”
“Board games eh?” Stephen said in a suggestive voice.
“Yes,” Marjorie said, trying to look indignant.
Stephen turned to Graham. “What about you Graham?”
Graham gestured to Carol and said, “We are going to the movies.”
At that Marjorie nudged Willy. ‘So Graham is starting to win,’ he thought.
Stephen had no luck with Peter or Roger either so went away muttering. Graham made excuses and led Carol away. Stick stopped chatting to Andrew Collins and said, “Come on Marjorie. Tea time. Let’s go home.”
“OK,” Marjorie replied without enthusiasm. She squeezed Willy’s arm and then whispered, “See you later.”
After they had gone Willy talked to Andrew and Carmen for a few minutes before going to find his mother. They went home and Willy got out of his uniform and had a shower while she prepared tea. Willy then dressed in shorts and casual shirt in preparation for the games night. It was a very sultry evening, the grumble of a distant thunderstorm hinting at the possibility of rain.
The games night at Marjorie’s was attended by Stick, Noddy, Vicki, Tod, Soper and Katrina Ferguson from 2 Section. The games included ‘Uno’, ‘Scrabble’ and a couple of dice games they had made up themselves. Throughout the evening Willy sat with Marjorie beside him. She kept up the pressure, touching him and pressing her legs against his. That got him all aroused and he was careful not to stand up when anyone was liable to see his condition.
What he really wanted to do was get Marjorie outside but no opportunity seemed to present itself, at least not without making it very obvious and attracting sniggers and lewd and embarrass
ing comments. It also seemed that Marjorie’s mother was making sure they had no chance to get away. She kept coming in with drinks and cakes and stayed just in the next room watching TV.
During a change of games Willy leaned over and whispered in Marjorie’s ear. “I don’t think we are going to make it,” he said.
“No,” Marjorie replied. She sounded grumpy and made him even more frustrated by saying, “Ooh! Oooh! Oh bugger Mum!”
They did not make it. To put the lid on their chances Willy’s parents arrived and sat talking to Marjorie’s. At 10pm they took him home, saying he looked tired and that he had a big day next day. It was a very frustrated but also relieved boy who lay tossing restlessly in his bed far into the sultry night.
On Sunday morning Willy slept in and then had a slow start. He also clicked onto the internet to look up plane wrecks and restorations. One of these dealt with wrecks in the Darwin area and Willy did some reading about the Japanese air raids on that town back in 1942. He had been hoping to find more about the wreck of the flying boat, the Corinthian.
In this Willy was disappointed. In the past he had read accounts of the Japanese attacks on Darwin on 19th February 1942 but he now read the details with more interest. As he read he tried to imagine what it must have been like, particularly for the aircrew. ‘Four American ‘Kittyhawks’ shot down in a few minutes and the fifth one managed to shoot down one fighter and two dive bombers. That was a great effort!’ he thought. For a few minutes he daydreamed, placing himself in the cockpit of that hard pressed fighter plane. It made him particularly pleased when he learned that the lone ‘Kittyhawk’ had managed to land safely afterwards.
A few pages further on Willy read a short account of another raid he was vaguely aware of knowing about. This was the Japanese raid on Broome in Western Australia on 3rd March 1942. When he read that flying boats were involved Willy concentrated more closely. What he now learned quite amazed him. ‘Sixteen flying boats destroyed on the water in one raid! Sixteen! How on earth did that happen?’ he wondered. It particularly saddened him to read about Dutch civilian refugees, including women and children, who had been evacuated that day from Java, being killed while still in the seaplanes which were sitting on the harbour.
Coasts of Cape York Page 8
