Desert Strike

Chapter 1 - Of Horses, Camels and Donkeys“Hey, watch out there!” yelled Nulla instructing the Alice Springs boys working with one of the wild horses. “These brumbies can kick backwards so don't walk around his tail 'til he knows you a bit better.” Nulla's leading horse-breaker was Kristofer, he loved horses, always had. In Darwin he would go riding when he was off duty. It was a good opportunity to pick up girls but right now he wasn't so keen on horses or girls. They'd been at it all week and he'd lost count of how many horses and camels they'd rounded up and broken in. “Nulla, it's got to be knock-off time, mate. Come on, we're all stuffed,” cried the lean, suntanned horseman coughing up a lungful of dust and sand. “Not until we finish this mob. Only three more to go then we'll call it a day,” said Nulla, wiping the sweat from his eyes for the umpteenth time. “That should only be an hour or so, beauty.” Kris cracked a smiled for the first time that day. “That's three each, mate,” Nulla managed to grin back at him. With the constant heat, scorching sun and choking dust they were all simply exhausted. Sundown had taken Chan off patrol to help them. The young ex-Revelationist was doing way too many back-to-back patrols trying to get payback for losing his best friend, John. It was good to see him laughing as he helped along with the bike patrol boys and a dozen of the Alice Springs troops experienced in working with horses and camels. Some were kangaroo, dingo and pig shooters; some were stockmen from the cattle stations; and some just loved animals. Together they'd broken in over two hundred horses and camels. “Nulla, what sort of horses are these anyway?” asked Simon. The dark-haired, lanky teenager, leaned heavily on the stockyard rails. His chest still heaving with the effort of lifting the bar for the wranglers as each horse or camel entered for training. “Most of these are Walers. They're what's left over from the Australian Light Horse. They had the last successful cavalry charge in the history of warfare. That was at Beersheba, in the deserts of Palestine during World War One,” Nulla called over his shoulder as he was about to head over to see if Fat Boy had arrived with their lunch. “They bred Walers for the British soldiers of the East India Company a few centuries ago. They're tough, courageous and have a gentle nature.” But catching them in the wild and breaking them in was time consuming and hard work. Arthur was seated just above Simon on the timber railings of the yard. His face was covered in fine, red desert dust, and there were rivulets of dirt running from his scalp to his chin. “Hey Nulla, where did camels come from? Are they Australian too?” Nulla turned and trotted his horse over to the boys. “Arty, both horses and camels were brought to Australia. Horses arrived with the convicts and the camels came later, to carry supplies to the stations and homesteads out in the desert.” Nulla shook his head and wondered what on earth kids learned at school these days. “They carried wool, minerals and farm produce to be sold in the cities. With the arrival of the railways and trucks they were left to run wild.” Simon was deep in thought and looked up as Nulla finished explaining. “So, if camels came from England, how come they can live in the hot desert? Shouldn't they die from heatstroke?” he asked. Again Nulla shook his head in disbelief. “Camels came from Arabia and the horses came from India,” he paused and thought for a moment, “at least I think so anyway.” He tipped his hat back off his forehead and considered how to extract himself. He'd only had a few years of schooling himself, just enough to read and write. “You'd better ask Heidi or Tricia… or someone who finished school. I'm not really sure where horses or camels come from.” Simon winked at Arthur who grinned back, the tracks of mud on his face made him look like a zombie. “Does that mean you don't know, boss?” he asked, his mischievous grin caught Nulla's eye and he knew Simon was back to his old tricks. “I tell you what, boys. If Luke knows where horses and camels come from, I'll shout you all a beer.” Nulla knew this would shut them up. “Boss, what if Luke doesn't know? Do we still get a beer then?” Simon was always willing to push Nulla every chance he got. “Well, let me just say, if Luke doesn't know then you all owe me a beer.” “Hey boss, we're under age and you're not allowed to give us alcohol. So if we win then we still don't win do we?” Nulla grinned, his eyes crinkled into slits and he laughed. “I think you grow smarter by the day, Simon. I can't give you alcohol but I can give you a kick up the rear-end if you don't open the gate for Kris here.” Kris was waiting patiently to enter the training yard with his camel while Simon jumped down off the fence. With the help of his friend, Arthur, they lifted the solid timber gate open for what was probably the hundredth time that day. “Come on boys, slowly, just let them get use to you. You're their friend, their protector not their dominatrix,” called Kris, teaching the boys how to break in the sensitive camels the 'Nulla way'. “Remember, camels are like horses, they're herd animals, they like company. They form friendships and they like to follow. Herd animals like to belong to a group. We're their herd and you're their leader so do it gently and calmly.” It became his mantra: 'gentle, calm, slow'. “Boys, all my life I've broken horses the old way, but this sure beats a jarred spine and a broken head. Where I came from horse breaking was a trial of manhood. For Nulla it's a game of out-psyching them. I'd rather this way.” Kris eased his muscled, raw-boned frame onto the stock yard railing. “Nulla said he learned it from his uncle. They trained horses on the properties they worked together. He said his uncle could talk to horses and they listened,” said Simon as he jumped nimbly from the raw timber rails when he heard Fat Boy's raucous call. Together they headed over to the food truck for a late lunch prior to heading back to their Christian Palace home. Sergeant Nulla made sure everyone had a full plate in front of them before he helped himself to Fat Boy's food. When he saw Luke sit down he walked over to join his boys. “Hey Luke, I've got a quiz for you. Can you tell us where horses and camels come from? Your mates wanted to know and I said if anyone knew, it was you.” Luke looked up at him and considered the request. “Well boss, seems to me that camels came here with the Afghans so they must have come from Afghanistan. And horses came with the British back in 1788 with Captain Phillip and the first fleet from England. So, horses came from England and camels from Afghanistan. Did I get it right?” Some of the stockmen were listening and gladly pitched in their opinion. “Luke, horses came from England? Nah, mate, they're from Asia. The Mongols introduced them to the rest of the world. Genghis Khan conquered India and Asia and right up into Europe at one time, all on the backs of their horses. Did you know the Mongols had twenty remounts each?” said one beefy cattleman through a mouthful of stew. “I read it was from America. They had little horses growing there millions of years ago. They had camels too, I think, before they migrated around the world across that land bridge in the Arctic. Those little camels turned into big camels in Asia and into lamas in South America,” offered another cattleman considered to be a bit of an intellectual. “The Spanish brought them to America you dumb-arse, they weren't already there. That Columbian guy, Christopher someone, he invaded America with his horses and killed all the indians with them,” said another who always offered everyone the benefit of his opinion. Simon piped up, “Nulla, which is it? You have to choose the answer.” Nulla held up his hand, he knew he was screwed no matter which opinion he chose. “Well boys,” Nulla pulled his hat off and scratched his head in exasperation. “I have no b****y idea which is the right answer. I'm going to ask Tricia and Andy tonight, I reckon they can decide. For someone who never finished high school, let alone primary school, I haven't got a damn clue.” “Does that mean we win?” Arthur had taken to speaking freely with Nulla since their time on the Arkaroola wilderness to Birdsville trip. After Luke told everyone how Arthur had been blown up and shot twice he'd become a bit of a legend in the commando. For once Nulla didn't have an answer. “Well, Arty…” he paused, thinking, he knew he was cornered but he wasn't in the habit of backing down or giving up either. “I tell you what, let's raise the stakes. If Andy or Tricia don't know I'll make you boys a special drink of herbs and spices, it might even contain some contraband. How's that?” The three teenagers looked at each other suspiciously. “Herbs and spices? Contraband? Nulla, if it's curry powdered then the answer is yes!” said Simon. His two mates weren't as keen on curry so they decided to take the initiative themselves. “Nulla, Arty and I'll settle on a glass of Andy's home brew beer, cut in half and you can add the other half from Fatima and Mel's lemonade – a shandy. We don't trust your contraband, it's probably that stinky desert tobacco.” Luke looked up at his friends who nodded excitedly, they loved Andy's shandies. The men around the camp fire had been listening intently to the conversation. They were interested now they knew the boys were in a competition with their sergeant. “So this is a competition is it?” called one cattleman. The boys nodded in response. “Well in that case we need to discuss it as unionists and decide on the proper rules for such an important competition.” The others sitting around the camp fire called out in agreement. “I propose that if Andy and Tricia come up with the same answer, an agreement that is, then let that be the official answer,” proposed the cattleman who said horses came from Asia. The men replied, “hear hear”. The bloke who said the Columbian named Christopher defeated the indians with horses then said, “and let the reward be a shandy, one glass of Andy's brew mixed fifty fifty with lemonade for the boys to share. And Simon can get a curry drink if he wants,” he added to a chuckle or two and more “hear hears”. Nulla was a union man from way-back as well and joined in. “Yep, that's fair, I'll agree to that. Now what's my reward if Andy and Tricia don't agree where horses and camels come from?” The horsemen started to argue over Nulla's reward. “I would ask as to why Nulla should get a reward in the first place?” called a red haired giant finishing his second helping of Fat Boy's stew. “Why don't we all get a reward then if that's the case?” “That's right,” came the union view. The intellectual added, “If Tricia and Andy can't agree, and if Luke got it wrong, I propose Nulla gets a day off nagging everyone.” To that everyone roared with laughter and Nulla was forced to accept a surrender. “Righto fella's, I give in. History was never my best subject anyway. In fact none of them were.” He joined in the genial laughter. It was a perfect ending to another day in the bush where they could all enjoy just being alive and free. “Hey, Fat Boy!” called one of the sunburned stockmen as he stood to get another serving of stew. “Has Andrew finished brewing that beer he promised us thirsty horsemen? We haven't had a beer in two weeks and I'm about jack of it.” He looked around at the nodding heads. “We've run out,” replied Fat Boy. “Andy said it's gonna take a few more weeks for the current brew to mature ready to drink.” Fat Boy had lost weight but not an ounce of muscle. He was still the biggest bloke in the commando. “Come on, fella's, even Halo wouldn't drink it.” He laughed and his roar echoed through the dust-flecked shafts of the setting sun.