Chapter 36

Mick made a huge profit selling his city block. He knew that the plans the realtor had made would fall through. Not completely ... the area would be renovated ... but he'd overheard a party of planning engineers discussing his location. There was going to be a road right through his Pub ... not just any street but a four-lane ... like the Autobahn in Germany.

Lorries were getting larger, faster and easier to operate. Power steering, automatic transmissions, power brakes ... his barmaid could drive one ... hell ... he could drive one and he had one asscheek.

If he held out, the City would take the property for the Crown, so he sold to the man who would lose his ass on the deal. Poetic.

As soon as the deal was finalized, he bought huge tracts of land in Australia in and around Darwin. He sold property ... he bought property ... no capital gains ... no huge bite for the Inland Revenue. What was left went by wire transfer..."Sorry, guys, it's not income ... it's existing commonwealth funds." ... to Australia.

The Gaffer was ecstatic to see him. Mick was the last of the Singapore crowd; nearly all of them had survived the war, married their 'port girls' and settled in an enclave of like-minded survivors on the north of Darwin.

As the years passed and so did some of the survivors, the group became more compact ... but more interested in what was happening in places like Canberra and Vietnam. The Gaffer had skills that the REMF's (Rear Echelon Mother Fuckers; those who never and disapproved of those who did.) had tried to suppress. It's always the same ... those in control want war to be kings on horseback watching the peasants kill each other on a battlefield where the battle never puts one of the "Bosses" in danger.

Gentlemen should never be targets of opportunity.

Since those in power on the other side learned their tactics from the survivors of the battlefields of Russia ... the value of chaos caused by the demise of leadership has never been forgotten.

Whoa ... someone saluted that guy ... shoot him.

That one is clean and all the rest are dirty ... yup ... target.

Oh, look, see the bright shiny officers insignia...

Everyone else is at attention and that guy isn't...

That guy has maps...

The Gaffer learned the value of snipers in the jungles of Burma ... he was called up and installed as overseer of sniper training. And when it was over, he was the first one out the door. The political branch of the military, the REMF's, didn't need people who could actually do...

Thus it went ... brush wars, limited interventions, special forces ... until the Gaffer said..."Sorry, sir. The knees, the hips and the back ... can't march, can't walk and can't sit." 'And can't stomach your shit.'

Life got safe ... er ... there were hobbies, local assemblies ... and beer. The cyclone came along and wiped out 90 percent of the town but missed his little group. He refused evacuation ... survivalist mode.

"Sorry, governor, we know how to live in war ... this isn't any worse. They stayed ... helped out ... ran dozers ... made decisions when the powers that be were arguing ... and had this or that bone of contention fixed while the 'men in charge' argued. Camels=horses designed by committee.

The Penny sailed into Darwin Harbor ... life got real again.

"Well, that was fun."

"Do you really have to make us forget?"

"Can't we go with you."

"We know the gen." (Gen ... the true facts.)

And in the end, Tim and the pen weren't needed.

There were hundreds of bases built in northern Australia ... Airfields ... Storage Depots ... Training facilities ... Seaplane bases, Patrol craft bases ... hundreds of them ... all set up for the support of McArthur and the army. McArthur was going to march the islands all the way to Tokyo. To support all that, there were all these bases ... fully stocked. Cases of rifles, cartons of uniforms, radios, jeeps, aircraft, boats, tons of ammunition, field guns, tanks ... everything an army would need ... until.

The Presidents, Prime Ministers and Dictators met. Europe first. A holding action in the Pacific. Europe was important ... those guys were white ... they were producers ... they valued Property. The Pacific? Nope ... natives ... wrong color, wrong size, wrong religions. Tiny islands ... big deal. Let the marines do it. Send the Navy. Harass the enemy until the IMPORTANT job is done ... Oh ... by the way ... protect Australia. And India ... lots of British pounds in India.

McArthur got to talk a lot. The Marines practiced ... it was just a holding action. All those bases in northern Australia? Well ... a lot of them are still there ... still stocked ... or so this author has been told by people on the scene.

Now was the time for the watches to find out the facts.