Three large white cars drew up. A
dozen men in suits climbed out. There was a flurry of introductions which left
the boys standing in the background as interested spectators, with the army
signallers and RSM.
Inspector Sharpe did the
introductions. “Commander Simkin your Royal Highness. He is with the Federal
Police. And this is Mr Colin Prendergast of the Foreign Affairs Department.”
Commander Simkin, a hard looking grey
man with a clipped grey moustache, shook hands with Prince Peter and bowed to
the princess. Then he turned to Inspector Sharpe. “Now, Inspector Sharpe, can
you please explain what the
blazes is
going on?”
“It is a very long story
Commander. I will give you an outline now. Then I suggest we move somewhere
safer and more comfortable while we cover all the details,” Inspector Sharpe
replied. He then gave an outline of the events of the previous six days
which produced looks of ever-increasing surprise, shock and dismay on the
official’s faces.
After fifteen minutes an
astonished and worried Commander said: “We will certainly move from here.” He
looked up at the wooded slopes of Mt Baldy with a worried frown.
Roger also glanced up at the
forested slope. ‘He’s thinking of snipers,’ he thought. He began to fret lest a
bullet suddenly strike down the prince or princess.
Commander Simkin went on: “Is
there somewhere not too far away where we can house fifty people and isolate
and protect them for a day or two?”
Inspector Sharpe tugged at his
jaw.
“Hmmm. Yes.
I know just the place. There is a
motel on a peninsula in Lake Tinaroo at Yungaburra. It has water on three sides
and is surrounded by open lawns. It is a motel called ‘Tinaburra Waters’.”
DS Crowe nodded agreement. “Good
spot sir.
A nice comfortable place too.
As well as
being easy to secure. ‘Lakeside Motor Inn’ is the name of the motel.”
The Commander turned to one of
his aides. “Wilkins, go and requisition that motel. Use the minister’s name. If
need be call him. This is most important. Do not haggle over the rates. Pay
what the management ask. Arrange alternate accommodation and compensation for
any guests. Have the place cleared within two hours, except for the staff. Get
going. Colonel Smith, I want one of your companies to move there at once,
surround and secure the area. Keep everyone out who does not have my
authorization- and No media! Sorry Colonel, but your little war in the
mountains will have to wait.”
The Lt Colonel and his staff
looked visibly disappointed at this but he moved at once to issue the orders.
Commander Simkin turned to Captain Conkey. “Captain, I must require you and
your cadets to come with us. I must also insist, nay, demand, that none of you
say anything to the media or your friends or families until I authorize it-
which may be never.”
“I must inform their parents that
the boys are safe,” Captain Conkey insisted.
“Yes, you may do that,” Commander
Simkin agreed. He turned to Inspector Sharpe. “There have been rumours for
days. Half the Press Corps in the country are out there at the turn-off,
clamouring to get in. We want to keep this quiet. It is a major diplomatic
incident. National Security is involved. Captain, make sure your cadets
understand.”
Roger suddenly felt worried and
sick. He was appalled at the authority and power of this grim-faced man. He
also had the awful realization that, in discovering the Thigh Bone, he may have
started events beyond his control, which he would regret.
They were kept waiting for ten
minutes before four ‘Black Hawks’ came roaring down to land along the Rifle
Range. The cadets were led forward and placed aboard the third one. Even though
Roger had flown in helicopters before; twice the previous year- when they were
rescued from the flooded Mulgrave River in January, and when searching for
Willy Williams and his airship in June- he was still excited and anxious.
The crew strapped them in. Roger
was comfortably in the middle. He didn’t enjoy flying but still found it
fascinating. As the machine trembled with power and lifted off he uttered
a quiet prayer. Below him he glimpsed trees, a small creek, a gravel road,
houses, another creek,
then
the roofs of Atherton. In
a minute they were beyond the town and over open farmland. Roger shivered and
closed his eyes.
Five minutes later they were
circling Tinaburra Waters. The machine settled on a wide lawn beside the lake
and they climbed out. The motel had not yet been taken over but Commander
Simkin led them over to it. His aide, Wilkins, arrived at that moment and a
discussion began with the manager. Roger was so tired he did not care what
happened next. Now he just wanted to lie down and sleep.
More helicopters roared in, to
disgorge soldiers who surrounded the buildings and were placed on guard at
doorways. Others were sent to patrol the shores of the lake. The boys were
warned not to leave the premises and were led to two downstairs rooms by a
policeman, who then stood guard on the veranda. Roger and Graham were given one
room and Peter and Stephen the other. Capt Conkey had the next along, sharing
with DS Crowe.
The boys were told to shower and
were given fresh uniforms by the soldiers. Roger found the hot shower to be a
mixture of bliss and stinging pains. He pulled on the clean clothes and flopped
onto one of the beds. Just as he was drifting into sleep food was brought by a
friendly woman who gave them a cheerful welcome. Roger sat up and placed one of
the trays on a table and wolfed the food down. An army doctor visited them with
a couple of medics and their minor ailments were treated. Then they were left
alone.
Captain Conkey checked how they
were,
then
told them to get some sleep until they were
needed. Roger needed no encouragement. He stretched out on the very comfortable
bed and was soon asleep.
At 8pm they were woken and taken
to a lounge room where Commander Simkin, several other men in suits, Mr
Prendergast, Inspector Sharpe, DS Crowe and Captain Conkey were all seated.
Peter and Stephen joined them and they were made comfortable in chairs. Coffee
and biscuits were provided.
Once they were settled they were
required to tell the whole story and were minutely questioned on every little
detail. It was after midnight before they finished and were led back to their
rooms. Roger was so exhausted he just threw himself on the bed and was asleep
in moments.
After breakfast next morning they
were interviewed again and detailed statements taken. They were allowed to
speak briefly to their parents on the telephone, saying only a prepared speech.
The morning dragged by. During this time they learned that, on orders from the
Kosarian Embassy, the Partisans in the jungle had surrendered (“Much to the
disgust of the Colonel and his men who were looking forward to a good little
stoush,” explained Inspector Sharpe). Several partisans had asked for political
asylum. The rest were to be deported. Diplomatic relations between Australia
and Kosaria were ‘very strained’. Mr Stinkibitz had cut short his visit and
flown out.
Several Royal Guards had also
been arrested. Most had gone into hiding. Two more KSS men had been taken into
custody.
“What about Hauptman Ritnik sir?
Is he alright?” Roger asked.
“Yes. He is in hospital and will
recover fully,” Inspector Sharpe replied.
“What will happen to the prince
and princess Sir?” Peter asked.
“They are to be flown out of the
country and set free.”
Roger liked that. The thought of
them being put in jail or something had been bothering him.
After lunch the four friends sat
on the patio. Roger relaxed and enjoyed the lovely view out over the lake. As
he dozed he heard another helicopter land. A few minutes later the boys were
called by a plain-clothes policeman.
“Prince Peter and Princess
Mareena wish to speak to you before they leave,” he said.
They were led down to where Inspector
Sharpe, Commander Simkin and Captain Conkey stood with the prince and princess
at the front entrance. Prince Peter and Princess Mareena were now in civilian
clothes, the prince in a light grey suit and the princess in a lovely emerald
green frock.
The boys lined up, feeling very
self conscious. Prince Peter stepped forward and said: “We have now heard the
whole story of what you did. I would like to thank you again. You saved my
life, and you saved my cousin’s life as well. If you would be so kind I would
consider it a favour if you would accept honorary life membership in the Crown
Prince’s Life Guard of the Kosarian Royal Guard.”
He then stepped forward and
handed each of them one of the Golden Eagle badges and shook their hands. When
he got to Roger he added: “And a special thanks to you for helping to find
the er
... the object in Count Krapinski’s care.”
Roger felt very proud, humble and
embarrassed. But what happened next overwhelmed him. Princess Mareena stepped forward
and kissed him on both cheeks. “
As a special thanks for
saving the prince and Baron Ritnik,”
she said. Then she moved along and
also kissed the others.
The memory of her touch and the
smell of her perfume lingered long after the sound of the helicopter died away.
And the prince did keep his word.
The boys not only received their Duke of Edinburgh Award, but also received
with it a personal letter from Prince Phillip congratulating them and offering
his thanks.
Months later each of the boys
received in the mail a small box. Inside was a handwritten note of thanks from
Prince Peter; and a beautiful silver and gold medal on a green and white
ribbon. A typed letter signed by Major Ritnik explained it was the Kosarian
medal of the White Falcon for sacrifice in the service of the King. As they
were foreign medals from a government which did not legally exist the boys
could not wear them on their uniforms, but for each they remained a treasured
possession; a permanent reminder to Roger of Count Krapinski; and of the
meaning of Duty, Loyalty and Honour.
THE
CADET
CORPORAL
“You’re
a coward Kirk.
Yer’ gutless!”
The
jeering insult bit deep. 15 Year old Army Cadet Corporal Graham Kirk turned to
face his accuser, the heat of his anger mixing with the chill of fear. He
blinked to clear the sweat from his eyes while his mind raced in an attempt to
find an easy way out of the crisis which had suddenly erupted. Five paces away
stood the bane of his life: Cadet ‘Pigsy’ Pike.
Behind Pigsy
stood his cronies: Waters, Franks and Moynihan.
On the ground lay a
cadet they were bullying.
‘Am
I a coward?’ Graham wonders. He is in his 2
nd
year in Army
Cadets. The previous year he had joined the cadets with a reputation as a
trouble maker and in difficult circumstances. Now, right at the start of the 9
day annual field camp, he is confronted with this crisis.
Over
the days that follow he is to face other challenges and temptations that will
test his integrity, courage and loyalty to the limit. Top of the list are the
bullies: ‘Pigsy’ and his gang, all soured by jealous resentment because he was
promoted and they were not. And there are girls in Graham’s section- and Graham
has ‘discovered’ girls and really likes them. But he has been fired with
ambition and really wants to be selected for promotion to sergeant the
following year. As the cadet unit has 16 corporals but only positions for 7
sergeants and a warrant officer he can see that he has some stiff competition to
beat if he is to be chosen.
The
story follows Graham’s trials and tribulations as a section commander. These
lead him to a critical personal and leadership challenge which causes him to
face up to what sort of person he really is and what he wants to be.
This
is the story of an army cadet camp told in detail. For cadets and ex-cadets it
should provide both interest and nostalgia.
Because
it is a story about teenagers, and particularly teenage boys, there are some
sexual references and coarse language. This book is written for teenagers and
is not suitable for Primary School children.
THE
CADET
SERGEANT MAJOR
‘Thirty nine girls!
And some of them with
reputations for being hot,’ thought 16 year old Army Cadet Warrant Officer Graham
Kirk as he scanned the company. ‘And some of them very pretty, like Cpl Allison
Broadfoot and Cpl Kate O’Brien in HQ.’
It
was Day 1 of the unit’s annual field camp. The cadets had just arrived in the
bush and were seated in the shade waiting for their OC. Through Graham’s
mind ran the roll book totals: 39 girls and 70 boys. ‘And Capt Conkey doesn’t
want any ‘boy-girl’ problems this camp’.
As
Graham looked at them his gaze met a pair of soft brown female eyes that smiled
back. They belonged to Cadet Margaret Lake- his sister’s best friend and his
devoted admirer. But Margaret was two years younger and was plain and tubby.
‘No, Margaret doesn’t set my blood on fire, not like her corporal, red-haired
Barbara Brassington.’ For a few moments Graham admired Barbara.