CBC - Origins

Lachlan Currie  (by: Darrin ©06/2006)

I couldn’t believe it, here I was, greatest fuckin’ pilot the RAF has ever seen and I’m stuck in the motor pool.  I needed some action and fast.  Needed to get Lil outta my head and heart and win the bloody war against the Jerries.  Every day was a bloody bore and every night was a torture as thoughts of Lil roamed through my head.  That last time I’d seen her, on the airfield after gettin’ my wings just about did me in.  It was a good thing I’d shipped off to England that next arvo, or I’d have done something I’d’ve regretted for certain.

‘Course, bein’ stuck in the motor pool wasn’t my idea of havin’ somethin’ else to do.  Dunno what my CO was thinkin’.

Turns out he was thinkin’.

“Need you for a special mission, Currie,” he said, after I’d been called to the office.  “We’re going to send you and two other sorties into the heaviest flak zone over Berlin for a chance at a munitions factory that’s keeping the Jerries in bombs far more than this deep into the war warrants.  You’re going to lead the mission and if you’re successful, you’ll have earned the highest award I can recommend for you and your crew.”

“Fair dinkum, mate!  When do we leave?”  I was rarin’ to go, as my Yank mates would say.

We left right after the briefing that arvo.

My heart was pounding with adrenaline and my wingmates and I flew out under the cover of dusk, flyin’ with the setting sun behind us for a bit of cover over the Channel.  That’s when I saw them.  Two dozen planes with Jerrie written all over them headed straight for us.

It was a fucking nightmare.  They engaged us almost immediately and the dog fight was like nothing I’d been trained for.  My wingmates were screamin’ over the comm and I was shoutin’ orders left and right.  When my plane went into the dive I knew would take me into the ocean, I shouted at them to turn bloody ‘round and get home if they could!  I didn’t hear the reply.  I was under the water by that time.

Time slowed down for me then.  I did everything I was trained, real relaxed, like I was just goin’ for a swim, not fightin’ for my life.  I grabbed the survival gear, hit the eject and popped outta the plane, sweet as can be.  Landed with a splash.

It was bloody quiet.  No sign of the dogfight that should have been raging above me at all.  I reckon they’d moved on.  I looked about for my mates.  If the Jerries were gone, maybe they’d gone for a swim, too.  Couldn’t see ‘em, though.

Next thing I know, there’s a boat headin’ straight for me.  A little one-man thing that had no business bein’ able to traverse the bloody Channel.  And too bloody quick to be my rescue at any rate.  But he was certainly comin’ my way.  I reckoned it was a fishing boat from the French coast and maybe we’d traveled farther than I’d thought.  But when I heard the powerful engine on the thing, I was more confused than tryin’ to figure out where he’d come from.  I was tryin’ to figure out if the French had invented some kind of new engine that could power a small craft.

All of that worry went outta my head when the bloke shouted across the last coupla meters at me.

“Lachlan Currie?  That you, mate?”

All I could register at first was, “Huh?!”  Then I gathered my wits about me and saluted right proper.  Had to be a bloke a lot higher in rank than me who’d get to have access to a boat like that one.  “Flight Lieutenant Currie, yes sir!” I shouted back.

He came up alongside me and grinned.  “No need to salute, mate.”

Lookin’ at him was like lookin’ into a mirror at an older self.  I’d have dropped my jaw if I wasn’t at attention.

“C’mon, you’ll never get to where we’re goin’ in that dinghy.”  He pulled me on board, laughin’ a little.  “Good thing I found you so quick.  She’d have my balls if I couldn’t find you.”

“Who?  And who are you?  What’s goin’ on, sir?” I was really confused.

“The name’s Terence Thorne and I’m here to take you home, Currie.”

“Back to England?  Oz?  Is the war suddenly over?”

“It is for you, Lachlan.”  It was the only time I’d hear him call me by my first name.  He got real serious and explained himself to me.  What he said, in my gut made sense.  In my head, not at all.

The trip home confirmed everything he’d told me.  But I had the feeling he’d left a part out.

Once in Central, I found myself with plenty to do and meetin’ Darrin made everything feel a lot better.  I worked with the blokes at the garage, and enjoyed bein’ with these Men who were my Brothers.

But one thing I never told anyone was lookin’ up my name on the machine Thorne introduced me to and finding I was listed as “Missing In Action”.

If I had to end my career as a Flight Lieutenant as MIA, I reckon bein’ in Central is like the General says, each our own version of Paradise.

Better’n stamps, I reckon.  And every moment is one I cherish.  Especially those with my sheila.