Salts, Blue Orchards
and Us
There has always been
rivalry between all three military services but as for me, I now
wave a flag of truce as I reflect on days gone by in peace and war.
There are so many memories, the reliable and beloved Huey
helicopter, the seemingly vulnerable Spartan patrol boats and then
of course those magnificent aircraft, the Caribous which always
seemed to be here, there and everywhere.
How many times did we
wait, resting at a rarely used remote airstrip, dirty, tired and
eager to be gone from the bush? Listening for the familiar sounds
of our saviour, the Caribou, which would soon take us back to our
base where there would be hot showers, food and then some leave to
do what soldiers like to do best and often. Suddenly there is the
familiar drone of aircraft engines detected and a stirring
restlessness spreads through the waiting group as diggers prepare to
move.
The great relief as the
now crowded Caribou becomes airborne and claws for height, yet seems
still to be labouring with its load, banging, clattering and
shuddering. In its thin metal belly, old soldiers doze and dream of
what they might do; young ones shout above the deafening motors as
they yarn and boast of their exaggerated intentions on leave.
The Caribou was very
much part of our life on deployments in OZ or overseas. I can still
recall the welcome airdrops of rations in New Guinea and forgave the
RAAF crew returning to Lae for showers, hot meals and luxury living.
(Forgiveness was only temporary).
There was the time in
Vietnam when a mate and I spotted a Caribou with a Kangaroo proudly
displayed on the fuselage preparing to land on our short improvised
air strip. It had been awhile since we had seen fellow Aussies and
better still, they had good old Bushels tea leaves aboard. It was
then I began to realise the RAAF despite its bad habits of insisting
on luxury and countless rules and regulations was not to be ignored.
It was also that day when a lifetime friendship with one of the
pilots began.
I often think of the
many Navy and RAAF I shared drinks with and will always hold in high
regard as comrades in arms. Jack Lynch and David Marlin immediately
come to mind. That�s a major problem as we age; recognising such
efforts and becoming sentimental about Navy and RAAF bastards we
served with. I�ll have to toughen up.
Those Magnificent
Caribou and Crew – For old warriors such as
David Marlin and Jack
Lynch.
I�m sure you recall
those lumbering slow Caribous.
In peace and war flying
in support of me and you, cramped, noisy, rattling, shuddering and
no hostess in such planes.
In headwinds it seemed
you were going back from where you came.
Touching down on a muddy
air strip the size of a postage stamp.
Daring take offs and
landings in darkness with the aid of bright lamps.
Carrying soldiers, ammo,
stores and even live food.
Welcome relief for
distant outposts which caused good mood.
News from home and
precious OZ tea leaves always part of the job.
Such thoughtful Caribou
crews were most appreciated by our mob.
Oh, there were times
airdrops would come crashing from above.
After cursing, a
crumpled note is found; �From the RAAF with love�
History clearly records
no matter when or where, they stood the test
Thanks Wallaby Airlines,
you were bloody bonzer and the very best.
George Mansford
October 2014