We’ve had no end of correspondence related to the Rotodyne. And this image comes to us courtesy of Flo Wagglesrim from Buderim Queensland. She writes; I was thrilled to see in the latest edition of pcbycp, ( the thinking man’s Global Times) your piece on the Rotodyne. In late 63 I was one of several hostesses who trained on Rotodynes in anticipation of their service on the ‘ Wombat Run’ between Sydney and Melbourne. We were sent to London to trial the in flight service when the operation was cancelled. A deep source of disappointment to this day’.

Dear reader, we’re back again with another depleting episode of high-stakes Drama, as our heroes struggle with the trifecta that binds a mighty nation, Anzackery, The House of Windsor and whatever resources mogul, be it Gina or Twiggy, decides to do with the cash they can’t siphon off either as philanthropy or just ‘running expenses’. Where a ‘resources rent tax’ is a dirty word, anything can happen and for our heroes, the clock ticks. It’s a tick tick. not a tik tok. But for the moment, they exalt in the simple factor that they are still alive, Brendan, obsessed with finding the remains of both ‘Benny-boy’ and Julian will stop at nothing to confirm to his superiors, Kerry and Gina, that the 500 million promised to the AWM, for its ‘Benny Boy Roberts Smith” exalted hero of Afghanistan light and sound show is guaranteed without hitches, slip-ups or cancellation.

Is Brendan also a prawn to Gina and Nev. Or has Cliffy got the better of them? Find out in the next resources rich episode, in which one way or other the future however implausible is NOW!

Brendan to Benny boy. ” And one day Benny, the War Memorial, the Great legends of ANZAC light and sound extravaganza, the Benny Boy Roberts Smith NOBLE HERO Museum of Australian Bravery and the Benny Roberts Smith Glorious VC Award Extravaganza will be yours to own, and with fully accredited sponsorships and merchandising guaranteed by Kerry and ANZACKERY INC’!!.

‘Look down there’ Quent pointed to something in the wasteland below them.’ It looks like a beacon of sorts’. We gathered round the scratched opalescent window of the rapide and observed a plume of flame belching smoke and sparks into the irradiated blue sky. ‘What’s that’? He patted Brendan on the back, and he answered dully, ‘Just one of Gina’s projects. Out here, there aint any minerals this side of the border, yeah, but there’s gas, a huge basin of untapped gas and Gina has a stake in it! But there are no official gas sites out here, Brendan laughed in an off hand kinda way, well not officially, Gina’s storing up gas Futures for the gas- led recovery. But aint the gas led recovery dead in the water? For the moment Brendan grinned; ‘the feds ‘ll change their tune soon enough when they realise Gina plays the long game. Like you, the long game might be long, or just as long as a piece of string. He chuckled and adjusted the throttles till the Gipsy inline majors changed from a throaty roar to a more harmonious purr. ‘This little old lady is my pride and joy’! We could tell that he was on love with the rapide, ‘it just shows how well they made em in the olden days, and it can takeoff on an airfield the size of a cricket pitch’. We admired the interior of the plane and winced at the door which hung loosely and realised even if Brendan was gonna throw us out it’d be a tight squeeze. Terry passed us another camel and we enthusiastically drew on the ciggies till the interior resembled a night club, in the 80’s before the wowsers banned smoking and dwarf throwing as benchmarks of family-themed entertainment.

‘Cant be far now’? Brendan chuckled and lowering the flaps we began to descend, until we saw in the haze of the distance the familiar terminus of Maralinga, the tarmac, and the black scar where the Centurion met its end.

In ‘Nasho Days’ Ces often had to perform the grim task of extracting barbecued corpses from burnt our tanks at Pucka. The ritual known as ‘Grilled Digger Deluxe” will be featured in the ‘Glorious Anzacs who never went to war annex at the AWM’.

Within minutes, the rapide was rumbling across the airfield, and with precision Brendan cut the engines and pulled up outside the terminal. ‘Well boys here’s your chance, show us the corpses and I’ll set you free’. We bounded out of the aircraft and pointed to the black rimmed crater where the duo of Benny boy and Julian had met their end. ‘Over there Brendan, can’t guarantee corpses, but perhaps the leftovers of a bush barby’. Brendan chuckled at our turn of phrase and unhitching the service revolver he carried above the instrument panel, he motioned us to walk in front, and with steely resolve said; “just show me the corpses, and no slip ups’.

It seemed odd in our trudging across that dry and dusty tarmac, that we were being offered a chance by the CEO of the Australian War Memorial who was determined to use us as mere prawns in confirming the fate of Australia’s most decorated war hero. But after all we’d been through nothing seemed surprising anymore. The fact that the Windsor’s were in on the Cash for peerages scam, and that Gina was sending suitcases of gold via prince Charles Georgian themed failed real estate ventures just seemed common- place. It made us feel quietly ashamed to be involved in such an enterprise, but if it kept us in one piece it was a small price to pay.

‘Over here’! Ces, pointed to the blackened hulk of the tank. ‘And I reckon, you’ll find the bodies inside’ It was a gruesome task, having to peer into the turret of the blackened tank, but Brendan, who’d been doing such in the ‘Hall of Fame Mechanised Glory of ANZAC Exhibition at the AWM’, forgot himself in his zeal to confirm what he craved, and in one quick step he was up on the turret and peering into the inky darkness. ‘There’s something here’, he exclaimed, and leaning into the turret offered Ces an un- missable opportunity.

All he needed to do was nudge the hatch and it clanged, pushing Brendan headfirst onto the darkened interior. We could hear the muffled curse as the CEO of the AWM, now trapped exclaimed, “You bastards, how dare you! Just you wait till Gina finds out!!

The blown up and burnt out Centurion at Maralinga.

LET ME OUTTA HERE! and you’re DEAD’!

But to no avail, Terry said, ‘looks like he’s cooked, and we savoured another camel, and took the time to look around for any evidence of life. ‘That’ll keep him quiet, and I think now’s our chance to start a new beginning. The trio laughed, and Quent solicitously asked; ‘Will Brendan get out’?

‘Well put it this way, there is a hatch release mechanism, but I’m not letting him out till we’re on that rapide and outta here. From thereon Brendan gets what he always wanted, a bit of ANZAC glory, and fame of sorts.

The glorious ” wattle portrait of the Queen’. Painted in the olden days before the House of Windsor was a byword for paper bags, V.C’s for cash and peerages on sale and other small acts of vice and greed committed by chinless wonders.

We walked back to the terminal building and taking one last look at the wattle portrait of the Queen, tinged with irony now we knew about the VC for cash and the gold for peerages scam, we respectfully turned the picture around. And that’s when we got an unpleasant surprise, on the back, written hastily in charcoal a note, “We’re Ok Boys, “ see ya when  the dust settles’! And it was signed ‘Benny Boy’. Was Julian with him? We must assume the worst, and from that a new sense of urgency, to disappear like the Coalition Climate, energy and housing policy and pretend that nothing ever happened.

Will our heroes fly into oblivion, or will they prevail?  Will Brendan get his just desserts in the desert or more? Find out in the next extrapolative episode; ‘Brendan’s missed the bus’, or ‘Three singles to Apocalypse yesterday’.