location is now suppressed. We were as if in a trance induced by the sheer ‘presence’ of history. Once we realised that our boot prints in the dusty floor were the first intrusion into an unspoilt time capsule, we respectfully retreated. Other interesting areas included the ‘country of the little people’. This was an area of deep ancient gorges in the far NW of the TA, where steep cliffs hide the timeless palms along the creeks in the bottom. The elders that we dealt with knew nothing and wanted nothing to do with this area. They only spoke of little people. Later research indicated that this may have been an area visited by the small race from the Indonesian island of Flores. Yet to be fully investigated I believe. We faced many challenges in developing a TA that would stand up to the rigours of tracked vehicles. Road corridors had to be carefully selected and then ‘engineered’ with culverts designed to withstand the annual monsoons. But that was a problem for the developers who came after us. Wing Commander Geoff Brown, who went on to become an undertaker in his wife’s father’s company immediately after I met him, but then quickly re-joined the RAAF to become Chief of Air Force later in his career, helped design the air space in my first range siting board. The local station owners threw their hands up in disgust when they heard about a ‘wall’ of restricted airspace that would prevent them from flying their bugsmashers to and from Darwin whenever the air space was closed. So, we came up with an airspace ‘tunnel’… one thousand feet high by one thousand feet wide, with fluorescent markers every few kilometres to guide the little planes from the south to the north of the TA, and back again. Later, as it became obvious that the US Marines would use Bradshaw more than the Australians, I worked with Brigadier Bob Brown as part of the Joint and Combined Training Capability. Actually employed by USPACOM based in Hawaii, I had the honour of helping to host many US senior officers and officials and show them Bradshaw, as well as TFTA and Woomera. Most of these men were city men and had no idea of Australia’s vastness and had never seen a TA as large as this one. Although they did take us back to the US where they showed us their Alaskan TA near the Arctic Circle. I remember distinctly sitting in a military vehicle looking out at walls of snow higher than the vehicle on both sides. I can only take their word on the size of it. On one of our visits with Bob Brown, the station caretaker told us that the giant 23 ft (as he put it) crocodile that was the boss of the Victoria-Angalarri junction a few hundred metres away, had just consumed a large feral bull. The caretaker had witnessed and photographed the repeated death rolls of the croc when killing the bull. He said we should fly over as the croc would no doubt be sunning himself on the bank. We did, and yes there was the croc. ‘I will fly low over it’ says the pilot, who was an NT local. ‘It will get annoyed and leap at the helicopter. Take a photo!’ Great idea. ‘You are on the edge, you take the photo Ben,’ said Bob Brown. ‘OK… leave it to me!’ Easier said than done. The croc leapt alright, seemingly launching vertically up from a resting position. Although I am sure there were many metres between the croc and the chopper, I felt as if the croc was coming straight for me at the open door! ‘Did you get the shot?’ said Bob. ‘I did’ I replied. Back at the homestead all I had was a shot of blue sky. ‘You wus,’ was the general comment. The shock of that animal leaping caused me to snap a picture of blue sky! The adventures on Bradshaw during those early years were many. When Lo was there she helped us to explore the Koolendong River valley with its boab trees that marked the passage of drovers coming across land from WA to Queensland, and the tree marked by the Nackeroos (WW2 observers) watching for Japanese aircraft. We even explored the final resting place of Captain Bradshaw, whose coffin had been placed in a cave on a mesa by his Aboriginie workers, only to be devoured by white ants, the bones scattered by dingoes; the bras handles being the only remaining evidence. These are now in the Vic River
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