The Timor Man (7 page)

The students continued to warm to Albert. They sensed a sincerity that was not evident with other instructors. He gave his leisure hours to assist them and often ventured into their individual worlds to nourish relationships which soon developed beyond that of teacher and student. Often he would recount his student days in Timor, earning their admiration for his stand against the authorities. He never discussed his internment. This was part of his earlier life's horrors which he attempted to purge from his mind.

The memory could never be completely erased. He resisted the temptation to solicit their sympathy. No, these past nightmares were his, and his alone. Often, when the day's stress prevented Seda from sleeping soundly, the nightmares would recur and he would awaken, screaming, to find himself drenched with perspiration. His nightmares were real; they filled his dreams with the terror of his incarceration in that stinking hell hole in Kupang, the detention centre for subversives.

 

Albert was already in his fifth year at the institution. It had grown considerably as a result of Australia's commitment in Vietnam. He taught Malay and Indonesian which, although basically the same languages, were just different enough to warrant separate courses. The 1965 course had commenced two months before, soon after the new year. Twenty students had been accepted from over one thousand applicants. Three were Foreign Affairs officers, and the remainder a mixture from the armed forces and government bodies such as AID and information agencies.

Albert was part of a five member teaching team responsible to the Director of Studies. The director coordinated the language courses and, in turn, reported to the college head, a Defence Department appointee. The courses were designed to produce graduates fluent in the target languages. Very few of the new intake had any previous exposure to the Asian languages as these were not taught in Australian schools.

The
Malay Emergency
, followed by the Indonesian ‘
Konfrontasi
' movement finally convinced the government of the need to develop an Asian language institution. Premises were located within an existing defence establishment and lecturers were scrounged from wherever they could be found. The need for extensive security inquiries reduced the pool of potential instructors to a small but talented group of men and women who were expected to produce linguists in the incredibly short period of just one year!

Father Douglas had provided the information required to fill in the blanks in Albert Seda's past. Security had been impressed with his anti-Soekarno stand and the priest's recommendations. He was cleared for the low-level security position almost without reservation. There had been some concern that this young man was anti-military; however lengthy discussions with Albert convinced the department that this was not so. It was understood that his animosity was directed at the Indonesian military machine and not the Australian armed forces. Had they persisted, Albert would have admitted that, in fact, he had a deep rooted hatred for all military groups but was realistic enough to realise that he had to say what they wanted to hear.

The Indonesian community in Melbourne was relatively small. Albert avoided his former countrymen and had it not been for an occasional visit to Radio Australia and the presence of two other Indonesian instructors, he would have had no contact at all. Occasionally a letter would arrive from his village. Father Douglas had been sent to Sumatra and his replacement refused to assist to forward correspondence from his family. He felt the sadness the migrant experienced on foreign soil once contact with family is broken. A few requests for funds had managed to survive the inadequacies of the postal system, and these always arrived months after the originator had put pen to paper. It was impractical to send money directly to Indonesia. Rupiah were not available in Melbourne, and Australian currency was unknown and not able to be cashed in Kupang. American dollars would certainly be stolen from the mail and postal notes or cheques were hopeless.

The solution was to entrust cash to a courier, but these opportunities were few and far between. At year's end he would occasionally seek the assistance of graduating students destined for Jakarta. Some would assist, but there were always those who would not, for fear of violating the currency regulations and thereby jeopardising their positions. Once in Jakarta, an embassy official had little difficulty in assisting with such trivial matters.

Albert was reluctant to send money via his stepbrother, Nathan. Occasionally he dispatched letters or small parcels directly to Nathan seeking his assistance as it was unlikely that postal items addressed to a military officer would suffer the same fate as mail bearing a civilian destination. He preferred not to encourage the relationship with Nathan as the Australian Government was unaware of his family association. He was concerned that, as his stepbrother had risen to the rank of colonel, then perhaps they may review his security clearance should the relationship come to light. His earlier declarations would be challenged and he would be dismissed, perhaps even charged, and sent to jail. He was well aware of the Australian paranoia when it came to Asians.

Albert shuddered involuntarily at the thought of being deported. Quickly he dismissed the thought and decided it would not be in his best interests to make further contact with Nathan. He really felt nothing for the man anyway, he justified in his mind. After all, was his brother not one of them now, fighting and killing as the others had done throughout the bloody Revolution? He guessed that Nathan was most probably unaware of Albert's good fortune as previous communications had been formal and uninformative. Nathan had merely been a convenient conduit to Kupang for his remaining family.

Albert rocked his head from side to side, a habit he had developed when alone and deep in thought. He believed that his relationship to Nathan would eventually jeopardise his position, and decided that he would discontinue all communication with his stepbrother; he would write to his family instructing them not to mention him in any of their letters, as an additional precaution. He was aware from a friend in Radio Australia that occasionally incoming mail was opened at the Australian end and not, as it was commonly assumed, by the Indonesian authorities.

Albert did not know of the existence of ASIO.

 

Albert turned his attention to the students sitting facing him. Some already showed the strain of these few hard weeks. Others, with a stronger determination, forced themselves along, only to discover the hopelessness of attempting to understand the Asian logic. Every aspect of the languages they were learning seemed to be imbued with underlying alien thought patterns.

Afew students actually enjoyed the pressures caused by constant correction, repetition and competition. These were rare, Albert acknowledged, his eyes moving casually from one student to another. There were only two he could identify in that year's intake. They stood out far in front of the rest of the class. Neither had previous language training and neither were members of the military.

Albert was pleased. He did not particularly enjoy devoting his life to teaching soldiers whose ultimate purpose was to kill. Intellectually speaking, he found the civilians who attended these courses far superior to the other students. It was for these reasons that Albert created opportunities to develop closer relationships with the civilians. Albert was wise enough to realise that these were the officers selected for overseas posts who might, in time, provide him with assistance should the requirement arise.

The bell rang announcing the end of the period. Albert's attention returned to his class. The students looked to the instructor who nodded, indicating that time was up. Their expressions reflected the mental fatigue. Written tests often produced this quiet response. As they departed Albert collected the papers and, as it was the end of the school day, he wandered home to the accommodation provided.

 

Stephen Coleman rubbed his eyes and immediately wished he hadn't. They felt like sandpaper, irritated by lack of sleep and cigarette smoke. Far too much smoke. He realised that rest was imperative to prepare for the oral test scheduled for later that day. His head ached, the temple pulse exacerbating the pain with a dull throbbing sensation, beating a brittle drum inside his head. He knew that he consumed far too many cigarettes but this was not the time to break the habit.

The course pressure was devastating. Already four students had been removed and they were still only in their first quarter! The course was damn difficult and it was obvious that they were burning people off. They wanted only the best. Previous year's confidential records clearly indicated that most students failed or were removed either early in the course or, surprisingly, during the last days towards graduation.

The latter was a direct result of accumulated pressure for, as the end appeared in sight, some students virtually collapsed with memory loss, unable to remember even the basics of what they had studied through the long and mentally demanding year. The rewards were considerable for those who successfully completed the training. For some, instant promotion, for others a posting overseas with excellent career opportunities.

Coleman lighted another cigarette. Leaning back he viewed his cell-sized quarters. Small, sparse, practical. Almost claustrophobic. The adjacent rooms were occupied by dedicated military types who had considerable difficulty accepting civilians on their courses. He smiled, recollecting the first assembly.

Soldiers marched in, saluting, pivoting and stomping their feet at one another with gusto. The Timorese instructor, expecting students, not toy soldiers, was horrified. Ground rules governing an acceptable standard of conduct were explained. These were received with grunts of disapproval from the army, smiles from the navy and airforce, and cool disdain by the few civilian participants. This obvious contempt for all things military was the hallmark of public servants, which the servicemen found intolerable at the best of times.

Students were given a native name suitable to the language studied. Ranks and service seniority were to be ignored on campus and all were expected to live in the allocated accommodations, separated from family. Quarterly breaks of one week were scheduled. Most students utilised these leave breaks to consolidate their vocabulary while others simply disappeared, escaping the dull monotony of endless study.

Pre-selection for attendance had been announced in the monthly Government Gazette and it was not until the preliminary tests were conducted that Coleman realised that special priority had been given to the training. He observed the number of applicants and was surprised as to the standards demanded for the pre-qualifying examinations.

For some time the Australian intelligence forces had become increasingly alarmed at the accelerated development of military capabilities in some of the neighbouring countries. Indonesia was of particular concern considering it boasted the third-largest Communist party in the world and was well armed with sophisticated weaponry supplied by its Soviet mentors.

The Australian public was deliberately kept uninformed as to size and capability of this immediate threat, as Australian cities were clearly vulnerable to attack from Indonesia's air and sea strike arsenal had their Government been motivated to do so. That was the enigma. The Indonesians never displayed open hostility towards the Australians and yet attacked the very concept of a united Singapore and Malaysia. The two British Commonwealth states had recently formed their own Federation together, and the Australians were unsure of their best course of action.

Defence specialists urged the government to embark on a program which would give greater access, through information collection, to enable more accurate interpretation of the mass of foreign language material made available through Australian embassies and friendly powers. The difficulty lay with the defence sector's inability to source qualified personnel with acceptable security clearances to assist in filling the information vacuum. The decision had been made to provide immediate training in Asian languages to specific branches of the Government ranging from defence to information services.

Coleman was surprised when he was selected for the course. He had studied journalism at college before joining the department, believing at the time that this would provide the opportunity to travel abroad. But it hadn't. As a career it lacked the excitement his contemporaries enjoyed. Life in Canberra had been dull and, more out of boredom than any other motivation, he had applied for language training when the positions were called.

The financial rewards were attractive also, although he believed that few of the applicants were motivated by the considerable salary increases offered. He had not stipulated
Bahasa Indonesia
. The selection committee, having assessed his preliminary aptitude tests, decided that Chinese, Thai and Vietnamese would be too unmanageable due to the difficulties of tonal pronunciation. He had considered their decision and decided that this course was difficult enough. Had he attempted the Thai course there was every possibility that he would already have returned to his desk in Canberra.

The alarm sounded startling Coleman. Five o'clock! He had studied through the night without sleep. He yawned. God how his mouth tasted! His sense of smell was practically nonexistent but he knew the room stank of stale smoke and the partly demolished block of New Zealand cheddar.

He shaved, showered, and dressed quickly. Outside it was light and Coleman left his quarters and walked briskly towards the sea where, to his relief, the tide covered the foul smelling seaweed which could, at low tide, turn even the strongest stomach. He enjoyed these early morning walks.