Ms Culthorpe, (our tea-lady) before she was seconded to our federal parliament as an intern was an expert on morse.
We return to our saga
Dear reader as you may recall……. we left our heroes exalting in the fresh taste of freedom. Freedom, that for all intents and purposes, though irradiated at Maralinga, is nonetheless freedom of sorts and better, way better than being mere prawns to the evil machinations of Dutto and Sophie.
Terry was also no slouch in morse, see here converting ‘Drums of War’ into Morse!
But, as ‘Benny-Boy’, arguably Australia’s bravest soldier ever, debates the meaning of a life without blowing up things and rolling wops off cliffs, he’s gladdened by the prospect of another chance to have a crack. And be of use. Not to his countrymen and the glory of ANZAC, but to help his mates Terry, Ces and Quent who he’s grown fond of.
And so we find them at the threshold, Benny-Boy once their jailer, is now their protector. Just as Sophie the most powerful woman in politics is on the board of the Fair Work Commission to help lowly paid workers not loose their wages through the insidious creep of inflation. Because Sophie, hidden from public view her entire life, may have a tincture of ‘Compassion”! And this carefully guarded secret may be unleashed and at any time to astound and confound the public at large and prove now that Dutto reigns supreme, there is still a shred of compassion at large within the ranks of those who choose conservatism and bludgeoning punishment, and ROBODEBT as a first principle above empathy and understanding.
NBN upgrade, three Morse Keys in One!
We live in hope, but what of our heroes, ?
We return to the irradiated sands of Maralinga and prepare for a stand off with a lone Centurion Tank.
‘Bugger me, it really is a centurion” Benny stroked the stubble on his chin and fingered the pistol grip of his AK 47, the one that had served him so faithfully at Tarren Kwot. ‘I dunno, the turret may turn and the barrel may move , but it’s arguable as to whether there’s anything down the spout, I mean 105 mm ammo is hard to come by these days.’
‘But can we risk it’? Quent enquired nervously. ‘I mean it’s been sitting out here for over sixty years and whoever is in it surely must have better things to do than just sit around waiting for us’?
Ces enjoys one of Terry’s Camels whilst tapping out ‘Drums of War’ for transfer to heliograph.
‘Yeah, but, nah but, with the “Drums of War” beckoning, we have no idea who it may be, since Andrew Robb took that job with Land-bridge and took the 750k a year salary for selling the Darwin port things aint been the same, We’ve been on high alert’.
‘High alert’? Quipped Terry, ‘I’ve been on high alert since the fifties and I can tell ya, nothing ever happened’.
‘Yeah’, Benny replied sternly,’ but things are different nowadays, the feds have put in very severe restrictions on foreign capital acquisitions’.
‘Like what’? enquired Ces.
Young Ces practising morse on the family farm beyond the black stump.
‘Well for example, you have to prove on the documentation before you buy into Australia that you’re not laundering money, have no links to the CCP and don’t have a recent, (at least two weeks) association with the High rollers Lounge at either Crown Casino, Crown Resorts or Barangaroo. And, as a final stipulation that you have never had dealings with Mick Gatto, Sam Dastyari, or Andrew Robb in the past seven days! They’re pretty strict regulations, and it shows that Australia is prepared to stand for PRINCIPLE’!
‘But is principle enough’? Ces sounded exasperated by his own circumstance, ‘we’ve been the past year trying to find out who the evil penis wielding oppressor was who so cruelly defiled our tea- lady Ms Culthorpe as a parliamentary intern and we are still no closer. How much is principle worth, when at the end we’re stymied by powerful forces determined to keep the truth from the public? It’s all, Ces, sighed with a measure of heart- felt exasperation,’ it’s all a bit Witness K or Julian Assange’. ‘Assange what’? enquired Terry? ‘Oh Assange, the bloke who got done for telling the truth’.
Young Quent, lacked morse proficiency so practised on ‘Drums of War’ instead.
‘ Oh’ Terry replied, ‘that can get you into a whole lotta trouble, and the worst of it is, once the truth is out there’s no telling what damage it might do’.
Just then the tank, immobile, daunting, and mysterious began to move.
‘Its moving’! Terry exclaimed, ‘And it’s coming towards us, what are we gonna do’?
Mike Pezullo, uses hand-signals and whispering to invoke via semaphore ‘Drums of War’!
‘I dunno, stand still and see if we can communicate with it, perhaps it’s here as a force of protection? There’s only one way top find out’! And quick as a flash Benny Boy knelt down, threw his back pack down and fished around inside the utility pockets before removing a small mirror. With deftness of touch trained in the field he orientated the mirror towards the sun and with the palm of his other hand, began to flap, (Not tap) out a signal by semaphore, by primitive hand – held heliograph, a message in morse.
NBN roll- out in WA will be made by real injuns. Using real ‘Drums of War’!
Will morse be enough to uncover the purpose of the lone tank? Or will some other code be required to save our hapless heroes? Find out in our next indecipherable episode; ‘Is that morse you tap on your sweaty palms’? or…..’Is that a morse key in your pocket or are you just pleased to sue me?