4 Field Regiment (SVN) 'Old Boys' Sep 25 Newsletter

I was to be a ‘black wallaby’. ‘Bloody hell what is that?’ I asked. ‘A black wallaby is always deployed during these protests to hide in the surrounding scrub to be ready with a camera to photograph and video all the activity that happens once the police arrive’, I am told. ‘But it’s not the police, it’s the contractors we worry about… they sometimes get a bit handy with their fists!’. So the black wallabies crawl about the scrub and hide and watch and film… oh and be ready to run because the contractors know we do this and if they see you, they are after you’. You’re an Army man Ben so you are perfect for the job. I will be the other black wallaby.’ ‘Jeez mate… that was over 30 years ago, I might be a bit rusty now, not to mention just a bit on the old and on the slow side!’ ‘Nah’ the OC says (I feel like he is OC by now) … here is your two way radio. My callsign is Echo’. Ah, so now this is where I jump in to demonstrate my Army know how, and I say… ‘OK so I assume my callsign is Foxtrot!’ ‘No mate’ he says, ‘your callsign is Ben. My name is Echo!’ ‘Oh’ I say, suitably put in my place. We approach the ‘killing ground’ as I now feel like calling it and set up for the ambush. But firstly I am told I am on picket from 0200 to 0400 hours. Are you kidding? I haven’t been on picket since Vietnam! It soon becomes evident why a picket is necessary when, a few moments after I hand over at 0400, the contractor’s early warning ‘duty bloke’ comes charging along the track headlights blazing to see if any protestors are there. Well they are… and he spots us, and he turns back. During our briefing I was told that this is normal and that the contractors, who work for Forestry Tasmania, will now call the police, so that they can arrive together. So we settle into breakfast. I am all packed and ready to rush into the bush with my black camouflage and painted face. This is unreal. Am I really doing this? Well, I am because all of a sudden, the place is full of police and contractors, and they are all yelling and the contractors are swearing and manhandling protestors. Not me… I am diving headlong into the bush to hide and start recording. I watch Echo dash of in the other direction, and I hide so that I can record the action. Leopard crawling through Ti-Tree is not something I have done much of lately and in no time, I am spotted and a contractor starts running at me. Shit! I am up and off and smash my way through branches and undergrowth, and I can hear the thud of this guy’s Blundstones behind me. But he stops, so cautiously I crawl my way back to see Bob Brown and several others arrested. Luckily there is no violence. And then I am spotted again! Clearly my super duper patrolling and ambush techniques are a bit rusty! But this time there is no determined pursuit. Soon the whole thing is over. Protestors are bundled off in police vehicles, contractors check their vehicles to ensure there is no damage (no physical or equipment damage has been the policy of the BBF for many years) and I need to find Echo and go with him to the RV. Once again, he tests my Army background and he lets me lead to the RV which is no less than 7Km away through bush along a ridge line, no track in sight. Map reading on a phone screen. Not what we used to do in the old days! But finally we get there and it is almost dark again. I have been on the go for nearly 24 hours and I can barely move. I get a pat on the back from Echo. ‘Well done Army man’, he tells me. ‘I’ll let you know when we do the next protest. You are an excellent black wallaby!’ ‘Errr … right I say… I may just change my phone number!’ I am exhausted but I feel good.