Dear reader,

The famous ‘Wattle Portrait’.

With so much at stake with Energy policy, or the failure thereof, and the vexed question of who’s submarines to buy, which prison to send Julian Assange, and why John Barilaro, wouldn’t be a perfect fit as NSW Trade Commissioner on the heels of Joe Hockey’s superb performance we are no closer in our quest. But we do now have, for the first time in years, two sworn and reliable allies who have come to protect us? Or perhaps more tellingly, see in our plight an opportunity for renewal, rapprochement or just release from the bounds of captivity.

Cheered as they are by the union of Julian and Benny-Boy, and impressed with how closely between them they have the defense and intelligence of Australia foremost in these imperiled times when  ‘the Drums of War’ throb and boom so menacingly, they still worry about how they’ll get out of Maralinga. And how will Benny- Boy and Julian, both marked men  travel with them and not be un-masked?  For even as we rested inside the dusty, musty interior of the Maralinga Air Terminal we knew that time, precious time was ticking by.

A legendary Australian performer makes indigenous culture accessible.

‘I dunno’, Ces replied, taking another drag from one of Terry’s camels; ‘this could just be another false start. I mean’, he pointed to the Centurion Tank.’ If that’s our only way outta here we’ve gotta long journey ahead of us.. last time I drove one as a reservist at Pucka, it took about one mile to the gallon.  And from here it’s about five hundred miles to Alice, and even when we get there, what guarantee have we got that we wont be arrested’. He pointed to Julian, who’d now pulled out of his leather jacket a whiskey flask, and was passing it to Benny, who just drained the contents in one gulp. ‘You see,  they’re mates. They’re both in for big stakes, and the likes of us are no more than a nuisance, I reckon, once they’ve used us to get out of here, we’ll be dumped or’…. he paused; ‘Worse’.

We looked at the infamous duo, now both puffing on Ecuadorian cigars, and Benny had produced a small pocket-sized photo album of snaps taken at the Fat Lady’s Arms, and once again we heard the guffaws as the dry desert  air was rent with their laughter.

Old Australia half crown postage stamp showing standard first nations person.

Same bloke who proclaimed; ‘Melbourne as a site for a Casino”

‘I dunno’, Quent said, ‘we could hide out here for a while, it aint that bad really, and over there’; he pointed to a Coke machine, and a chocolate dispenser. ‘Those machines may not be empty, and with the tank we might go Roo shooting and sort of live off the land or a bit’. The idea sounded tempting, indeed, the Air terminal, though long abandoned was not that bad. There was a portrait of the Queen, another version of the famous wattle portrait, and apart from a bar in one corner, the chairs and Formica table, gave it an air of an old café, including the drapes, somewhat faded of Aboriginals with woomera and spear. ‘That’s funny’, Terry pointed to a mural in the corner, where the declarations would be made for pommy personnel,’ that’s quaint’. There was above the console a mural with a bearded aboriginal elder and a spear, he was the same one as appeared on the one shilling stamp and the 1 dollar coin, and above the Woomera, a rocket,  and above the entablature, and the night sky, the caption, “ The Stone- Age welcomes the Space age’!

‘Nice touch that, Terry remarked,’ I know the bloke who painted that, went onto become a significant artist, you’ve probably never heard of him’. Quent who knew a bit about art challenged him. ‘C’mon Terry I reckon, I could give it a guess, was he famous’?

‘I mean internationally famous just in Australia’?.

First nations people represented as visually enhanced 3D holograms in exciting ‘Building Better Prisons’ initiative. Forthcoming NT Trade Fair NATO Summit.

‘Yep you’ve got it, his entire oeuvre can be summarised in just one word’,’ Bert’? Quent opined.  ‘Alby’? proffered Ces. “Nup none of them. This one was really. He didn’t need a pseudonym, he went by the name of Rolf’.

We left it at that and looked outside, Julian and Benny were inspecting the tank, and then they pointed to the concrete portal that covered the stairwell we’d emerged from some 500 yards distant. They seemed animated, and we weren’t sure what they were agitated about. But we could sense the urgency, something was bothering them, and as a consequence we were bothered.

‘The old bloke meme is a standard in both currency and appreciation of the ‘noble savage’ tradition of place-making’. ( NT Tourism,’ Building Better Prisons’ Brochure, forthcoming NATO summit)

Could it be Dutto and Sophie? Have they reached a rapprochement? Were they about to emerge, was our destiny once again to be dashed? Julian jumped onto the tank, it roared back into life, whilst Benny Boy, leapt up onto the side, and removed the tarpaulin from the twin Vickers that had lain idle for decades. With practiced hands he inspected the mechanism, and reached down into the storage bin at the rear of the turret and pulled out two belts of .303 ammunition, and as the smoke billowed from the exhausts, and the turret swung around to the stairwell, we assumed the worst. Sophie and Dutto were on their way, and as famously said there’s no anger more terrifying than the anger of an ex Queensland copper, and for Sophie? Anger is just another way of being Sophie.

Will this be the next last hurrah? Will they linger in Maralinga?

Rolf was instrumental in forging strong cultural ties between Australia and a diminished little country to the west of Europe. Seen here painting OWW, (Older White Woman) meme.  as part of NT Govt ‘Building Better Prisons’. Trade Fair NATO summit.

Find out in the next Centurion inspired episode; ‘Has the economy tanked when Sophie sits on the Fair Work Commission?”, or, “Tank tracks across the desert or a just dessert”