SOMEDAY SOON (38 page)

‘To Melbourne?’

‘Yes, recently a new US Army hospital
specializing in the treatment of tropical diseases was set up
there. The entire US Marine First Division went to Melbourne
eventually, after they were evacuated from Guadalcanal. Over sixty
percent of them had malaria. The first units came to Brisbane and
were sent to Camp Cable, near Logan Village, but the divisional
medical officer discovered the area was infested with malaria
bearing mosquitoes and everyone was sent south to a more temperate
climate.’

*

‘
Did you know
the Air Corps is sending Dan to Melbourne as soon as he is well
enough to travel?’

Lyle Hunter looked up from his desk in
surprise. Faith had entered his office without knocking and her
tone was unusually sharp. It was plain she was upset.

‘The best US Army facilities in Australia for
tropical diseases are in Melbourne, Faith,’ Hunter replied. ‘It’s
standard procedure to send all chronic cases there for
rehabilitation prior to repatriation to their units or being
shipped home to the States. Didn’t they tell you that at the
hospital?’

‘Yes, but only just today,’ Faith’s tone
became more amiable. ‘I’m sorry Lyle. It’s just that it came as
such a shock. Now, it seems as soon as Dan gets better he’ll be
gone again.’

Hunter got up from his desk to close the
office door. As he pushed it shut, his jaw tightened when he saw
Gus Welenski, who had obviously been listening to the conversation,
turn his attention back to the work on his desk.

Hunter took Faith gently by the arm. ‘Since
we’re discussing Dan Rivers, perhaps we can talk a few things
through.’

‘What things?’

‘Oh, about how things stand between you and
him. And how things stand between us.’

‘I’ve told you already, Lyle. I don’t know
about Dan and I. He’s still a very sick man. Anyway, now it seems
he’s going to Melbourne, then home to America. I don’t know what,
if anything, may happen in the future.’

Hunter moved to the window and stood looking
out on the street below with his back towards her. ‘Did anything
ever happen between you and Dan Rivers?’ he asked without turning
around.

Faith became defensive. ‘I told you we were
very close, if that’s what you mean.’

‘Just how close, Faith?’ He turned around to
face her. ‘I mean, did you... did you ever sleep with him?’

Faith felt a surge of anger. ‘I beg your
pardon.’

‘I said, did you ever sleep with him?’

‘How dare you ask me that? You have no
right.’

‘Perhaps, I don’t. But I do need to
know.’

‘Why?’

‘I think you know why, Faith.’

Faith refused to be drawn. ‘I have no idea,
Lyle. Perhaps, you should tell me.’

‘Damn it, Faith. The man’s an Indian.’

‘Is that what’s bothering you?’ she asked
incredulously. ‘The fact that he’s an Indian?’

‘Yes.’

She glared at him accusingly. ‘You’re a
racist. Lyle.’

‘I’m not a racist,’ he said quickly, ‘I’m a
realist. Sometimes it’s hard for people to tell the difference.’
His tone became conciliatory. ‘Look, Faith, the reality is Dan
Rivers comes from a race and a culture that is poles apart from
American society and which can never hope to assimilate. The North
American Indian is no different to the Australian Aborigine. If you
were an American you’d realize that.’

‘He’s a fellow officer in the United States
Army Air Force, Lyle. I would have thought that would demand you’re
respect and support.’

‘He’s an Indian, Faith, nothing more. He is
the end product of some political and social do-gooders who think
that by taking a native child from a backward culture, dragging him
briefly into an artificial environment and giving him a little
education, they can prove to the world that an Aborigine can
suddenly become a white man. It’s all been tried before. Even here
in Australia. But it’s never worked. You can’t just wave a magic
wand and a primitive man’s basic instincts and tens of thousands of
years of tribal customs are suddenly replaced with modern twentieth
century intelligence. It’s impossible, even if you dress him up in
the uniform of an American officer.’

Faith turned quickly and made for the door.
Before she could open it, Hunter was beside her, his hand firmly
holding it closed.

‘Please, Faith,’ he said softly.
‘Please try and understand what I’m saying. If you have any ideas
about any kind of a relationship with Dan Rivers, it could never
work. Especially with a Navajo. They never marry outside their
tribe and sooner or later the few who are taken off or leave the
reservations
always
return. If
you’d ever seen the filth and squalor and the awful conditions in
which Indians prefer to live, you’d know exactly what I
mean.’

Faith pulled hard on the door handle and said
nothing.

Hunter took his hand from the door. ‘I’m
sorry Faith. I’m only telling you all this because I don’t want to
see you hurt. And remember, I do love you.’

*

The day Private Mike Sharkey had been waiting
for arrived at last. It was May 11, and his dreams of doing his
duty for his country were about to be realized. Soon after dawn at
his barracks outside Wollongong in New South Wales, the word went
out that the three companies that made up the 2/12 Field Ambulance,
plus its attached unit of Australian Army Service Corps ambulance
drivers and dispatch riders, were to prepare to leave immediately
for service in New Guinea.

By mid-morning, Mike was aboard a train
bound for Sydney with a complement of over two hundred soldiers in
full battle dress. The Field Ambulance personnel were unarmed but
the ASC support troops carried their standard service rifles and
revolvers. The uniforms of both units were identical except for a
different color patch on the puggarees of their slouch hats. On
arrival in Sydney, the soldiers were transported in trucks from the
railway station to No.1 berth at Darling Harbor where wharfies were
preparing the Hospital Ship
Centaur
for sea.

The troops alighted from the trucks at
the main gate and were marched onto the wharf. Just before they
reached the
Centaur’s
main
gangplank, the order was given to halt and stand at ease. After a
few minutes an NCO began shouting out names and allocating the
soldiers berth numbers aboard the ship. The smart and orderly, but
very vocal military procedure, became the centre of attention on
the wharf and soon the rail of the hospital ship was lined with
onlookers. Armed soldiers assembled at a commercial Sydney shipping
wharf was a rare sight indeed.

When the CO of the 2/12 Field Ambulance
led the first group of soldiers up the gangplank, their passage
onto the
Centaur
was blocked
by the ship’s medical staff commander. He questioned the legitimacy
of armed soldiers boarding a hospital ship and demanded
clarification of the Red Cross Convention which laid out exactly
what may be transported aboard a hospital ship without compromising
her immunity from attack under international law.

The Field Ambulance commander insisted the
Convention allowed for armed soldiers to accompany Field Ambulance
personnel, provided they were used only to protect ambulance staff
and wounded personnel under their care. But the ship’s medical
officer was unconvinced and said that the soldiers could only board
the ship if their weapons and ammunition remained on the dock until
the matter had been clarified with the appropriate authorities
ashore.

The soldiers boarded the vessel and
took their allocated berths, empty bunks in medical wards
amidships, which on the
Centaur’s
homeward voyage from New Guinea, would be occupied by the
wounded troops. Later, when they ate a hot dinner in the ship’s
dining room, the only topic of conversation amongst the crew was
whether the military was trying to use the
Centaur
to illegally transport guns and
ammunition to a war zone.

After dinner, most of the soldiers returned
to their quarters to talk and play cards. A few, including Mike,
asked for and received permission to go up on deck for some fresh
air providing they stayed out of the way of wharfies tending the
vessel.

Mike and a few of his mates were
leaning over the rail, watching provisions being loaded under
floodlights, when the
Centaur’s
ship’s medical officer arrived back on the dock. They looked
on as he first hurried aboard the ship, then returned almost
immediately to the wharf with the Field Ambulance CO and two
sergeants. After they conferred briefly with a civilian, who Mike
assumed was the wharfie’s official union delegate, waterside
workers began loading the stacks of guns standing on the dock and
Mike assumed the weapons impasse had ended.

But the next morning it soon became
clear that overnight the weapons issue had become a major incident.
Apparently when the shifts working the ship had changed, word had
spread like wildfire around Sydney that the
Centaur
was being used as a troopship. The
Waterside Workers Federation promptly called a stopwork meeting to
discuss the issue and refused to load the remainder of the vessel’s
cargo. At the same time a union delegate from the ship’s crew
announced that his members would not take the ship to sea if she
carried munitions, while the
Centaur’s
captain denied any knowledge of
munitions being aboard.

The stand-off continued for most of the
morning and speculation of the hospital ship’s real role was rife
around Sydney’s waterfront. But eventually a compromise was reached
when the captain gave the crew permission to search the ship’s
holds for munitions if they doubted his word, and he invited the
wharfies to search what cargo still remained on the dock. The
wharfies quickly searched the last of the cargo, found nothing and
resumed loading. But the crew, in light of the captain’s
willingness to let them inspect the cargo already on board, decided
to take him at his word and declined to search the holds.

A few hours later the
Centaur
steamed out of Sydney Harbor.
Mike was just one of over two hundred soldiers crowding her decks
in the afternoon sun when a harbor cruise ship came alongside and
her musicians and passengers sent the
Centaur
off by singing ‘
Now is the Hour.
’ A lump came to Mike’s throat.
He knew he was embarking on the greatest adventure of his
life.

*

Once again, just as she had when Dan first
went missing, Faith immersed herself in her work to alleviate her
anxiety about his health and his inevitable departure to Melbourne.
She visited the hospital in Greenslopes several times each week but
because some days were much worse for him than others, she was
often unable to see him. And as time went by, she also found she
was beginning to be troubled by mixed emotions for both Dan and
Lyle Hunter.

Since the heated conversation with Lyle after
her first visit to Dan at Greenslopes, he had gone out of his way
to avoid upsetting her in any way. The fact that he hadn’t followed
through with his threat to transfer Gus Welenski for his part in
Dan’s hospitalization and had not pressed Faith to make any firm
emotional commitments was proof of that. At first she had
considered defusing the situation by leaving her job, but Manpower
regulations prohibiting that were still in force. And even if she
defied the law, the prospect of being assigned to another armaments
factory, or worse, was a strong deterrent against doing anything
impetuous.

Faith was mulling over her situation when she
arrived at work early one morning to find Gus Welenski waving a
telephone receiver at her.

‘Sister Horwood at the hospital, Faith. She
says its urgent.’

Faith quickened her pace and grabbed the
phone. ‘Yes, it’s Faith Brodie, Sister. Is Dan all right.’

‘Oh yes, he’s well. But we received a
directive last week that all non-critical patients who are able to
be transferred must be moved elsewhere immediately. It’s all to do
with the huge increase in serious casualties coming down from New
Guinea. I’ve been off for a few days and I’ve only just heard the
news.’

‘Will Dan have to be moved?’ Faith asked
anxiously.

‘We’ve already spoken to the Americans.
They’ve made arrangements for him to be flown to Melbourne this
morning.’

‘This morning? At what time? Do I have time
to come down and see him?’

‘I’m sorry. An ambulance has already taken
him to the airfield.’

‘Which one?’

‘I don’t know. It could be either Archerfield
or Eagle Farm. But it doesn’t really matter. It’s too late to see
him now. I’m so sorry, Faith. But I thought I’d better phone and
tell you, rather than you just coming down here and finding him
gone.’

For a moment, Faith didn’t answer as the bolt
from the blue sank in. Then she said, ‘It’s very kind of you to
call, Sister. I do appreciate it.’

‘Do you have a pen and paper handy?’ Sister
Horwood asked.

‘Yes.’

‘I have a copy of Captain River’s transfer
papers in front of me. Perhaps you might like to jot this down.
He’s being transferred to the US Army Hospital operated by the
Cleveland Medical Unit from Ohio. It’s in Richmond, not far from
the centre of Melbourne.’

*

Mike woke up in the early hours of the
morning during the
Centaur’s
second night at sea. The ship was pushing her way northward
through slight seas and the dull rumble of her engines reverberated
through a bulkhead beside his bunk. Dawn was still over two hours
away but light streaming in through a porthole onto his face had
awoken him. Unlike naval or commercial vessels, the hull and decks
of the
Centaur
were lit up
like a giant Christmas tree to ensure that any enemy warships
prowling Australia’s east coast recognized her as a hospital ship
and as such gave her immunity from attack.