Interrupted Journey

Chapter 11 - Advance Australia Fair

It was the middle of July and for weeks now, we hadn't seen anyone... not a soul. It was starting to feel as if we were the last people left on earth.

I was in the observation post - across the road from the bridge - and musing quietly on whether we were wasting our time by having six people on guard at all times. I was coming to the conclusion - not for the first time - that simply standing guard made a pleasant alternative to all the backbreaking work that awaited us otherwise... particularly on a warm summer's day like today.

I was shaken from my dreams by a familiar but utterly unaccustomed sound and looked across at Ashley, with whom I was sharing the trench, to confirm that she was hearing it too. She nodded.

Looking down the valley towards Greenford, we could see a helicopter approaching. As it drew closer, I could make out a flag which, if I wasn't mistaken, identified it as Australian military - or possibly New Zealand - I always had difficulty with those two flags.

I was slightly at a loss as to what message to send. Our coloured paper code didn't stretch to helicopters! In the end, though, I decided I really didn't need to bother trying to send a message. If they hadn't noticed a helicopter, they really weren't paying attention.

A little over an hour later I was, once again, scratching my head as to what signal to send. We'd just spotted a military convoy coming up the road... half a dozen jeeps and several lorries. We didn't have a signal for that, either.

I was saved from making a decision by a calm but assertive voice behind us. "G'day! If you turn around slowly and don't point those weapons at us, nobody's going to get hurt."

Ashley's hands moved towards her rifle but I told her sharply to leave it.

We turned slowly around to find two soldiers looking down on us. I was pleasantly surprised to see they were holding their rifles butt end first. They would have put us down if we hadn't cooperated but at least we'd have been able to get up again.

"Corporal Dave Palmer, Australian military," he said. "We're here on a humanitarian mission. Sorry to surprise you like this but we can't let you start taking potshots at us before we get a chance to talk. If you want to unload and shoulder those guns we can walk down and get to know one another properly."

We immediately did as we were instructed. Though they were avoiding violence, it was clear that violence remained an option if Ash or I made it necessary.

"So Australia's unharmed," I asked as we walked down towards the road.

"Us and the Kiwis were knocked about a bit but we're basically OK," he answered.

"And do you know what it was? Some sort of big solar flare?"

"It wasn't a solar flare," he answered, "but, when last I heard, they still hadn't worked out what it was. It was some sort of huge electromagnetic thing from space - cooked almost anything electronic or magnetic... oh yeah, it knocked the earth's magnetic field out of kilter, too. It's gradually coming back up but north seems to have gone south, as it were."

"We'd noticed that much," I said. An early encounter up on the moor had drawn my attention to the strange state of the earth's magnetic field and I had occasionally been studying the effect.

"It's why we took so long to get here," he went on. "The planes couldn't cope and kept falling out of the sky. It was a bit embarrassing for the air force boys, to be honest." He gave a brief smile. "Oh and if you fly at any height, your insides are seem to be cooked - something to do with the magnetic field, they say."

By this time we had reached the bridge, the convoy was rolling up towards the junction. Mike had already come to the conclusion that there was no point in trying to fight the visitors and had stood the defenders down.

We milled around for a while, making introductions,

I hurriedly pulled James to one side, smiling when I saw he was holding a bar of chocolate. "Go and find Ron," I told him. "You and him are to go and hide in the barn."

He gave me a puzzled look.

"Sorry son. There are good reasons but I'm not allowed to explain. Just do it, please. Oh... and tell the people at the house what's going on."

"Yes sir." He set off up the track at a run.

Returning to the throng down on the bridge, I found the office in charge, a Captain McGillan, and said, "We'd offer you tea but we ran out a couple of months ago."

"We can do tea," he answered, "but we could do with somewhere to stage for a couple of days."

Half an hour later, we were all down in their mess tent that had been set up in the middle of their camp, down in the lower field with - glory of glories - mugs of tea. There were even biscuits.

I wasn't the only one with a tear in his eye when Samson raised his mug in salute and simply said, "Jimbo".  The rest of us echoed his toast.

The captain described, in some detail, the state of the country. After the starvation and waves of plague last winter, it was almost completely depopulated with only occasional pockets of survivors scattered about. He also explained that they were there on a humanitarian mission, distributing medical and food supplies.

Mike looked at him quite sharply in response to that and, when we had finished our tea, pointedly invited the captain and me to join him for a stroll outside. He led us out of the tent.

"Ok," Captain," Mike said as we walked up towards the house. "I can live with 'it's above your pay grade' but you can stop feeding us this line of crap right now. A couple of things I don't need to tell you: you don't send a small lightly defended humanitarian mission well in advance of your main lines; also, since when do humanitarian missions run with helicopter support? Oh yeah... and some of your lads don't move like normal squaddies... they might as well have 'special forces' tattooed on their foreheads."

The Captain chuckled. "Guilty as charged," he said.

He thought for a moment then went on. "Everything we've said is true up to a point but I have to admit that we haven't been completely straight with you. We are looking for something but I can't tell you what it is."

There was an awkward pause and Mike looked across at me. The decision, he was telling me, was mine to make.

"So you might be interested in hearing about one of the bodies we had to bury just over a year ago?" I suggested. "Military convoy had been shot up."

"We might be very interested," he agreed with a grim expression. "I take it that you recognised one of the bodies."

"Come on, we've given you something. You let us know what you're looking for."

"We're after a couple of important people," he answered. "We have reason to believe they may have been traveling through this area."

"The king is dead, long live the king," I said.

"So the young prince survived?" he answered tersely. "Do you know what happened to him?"

"We're going to get him now," I answered, leading him into the barn.

"James and Ron, you can come on down now, please?" I had correctly guessed that they would be up in the hay loft.

As we walked back into the mess tent, the Captain nodded to a senior sergeant and, at a barked command, the military jumped to attention. The room fell silent.

James stared at the military and then at Ron who, by now, had almost become like a younger brother. "Oh crap," he said.

"Mind your language, young man," Susan told him quite pointedly. "There appears to be royalty present." The whole time, though, she did not take her eyes off me. I would have some explaining to do later.

"The phrase is 'as you were'," Mike told Ron. "They won't relax 'til you say it."

He repeated the phrase and, at another command, the soldiers in the tent sat and relaxed somewhat though they remained distinctly reserved. "OK," I said, "I see I have some explaining to do but it's a long story and I think these two young men would appreciate some tea and biscuits first."

As more mugs of tea magically appeared in front of us, I began the tale.