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    quokka
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Desert Air - 2. DA Ch 2 - Home for Holidays

Once I had double checked all of the instruments, I radioed air traffic control requesting clearance to taxi, and I was instructed to taxi to runway 06 right and hold, to await incoming traffic. A few minutes later we were in the air heading inland in a NE direction, as instructed by Air Traffic Control at Perth Airport, and we remained on that heading until we were approaching Northam, then we were permitted to change to a northerly direction for Geraldton.

Marcus was fairly chatty for most of the first stage of the flight, flying over farmland for as far as the eye can see, and he was amazed at how great it looks from up high, with a cruising speed of 75 knots, and at a height of 16,000 feet.

Once I was given clearance, I landed at the Geraldton Airport, and taxied to where a fuel truck was waiting for me. Once stopped, we both climbed out and stretched a little before reaching the ground. “Wow, that was quite a trip, a little cramped but I loved every moment of it,” Marcus stated.

“So you are going to continue with me up to the station?” I asked, “You bet I am, anything to get out of working on the family farm,” Marcus replied smiling, which made me laugh. Where it’s his family farm of yours?” I asked, “A locality known as Horrocks,” Marcus replied.

“That is between Geraldton and Kalbarri isn’t it?” I responded, “That is right, we have a town house in the beach community of Horrocks, where the family lives, and there is a farm house and cottage out on the farm, about 6 kilometres out of town, which we use for farm stay accommodation during the summer months, and other holiday periods,” Marcus replied.

Once we were fuelled up, we took off again, this time we were permitted to follow along the coast, and when we approached the town of Horrocks, I went down low and flew just off the coast from town, before returning to our allocated flight path of 8,000 feet, for the rest of the journey north to Kalbarri.

I had informed Marcus that I had booked a motel room in Kalbarri, which we can share, but I would get the double bed while he has the single bed. A taxi was called to get us into town, once we had secured the plane for the night, and once we had checked into our room, I let Marcus have first use of the shower, while I went for a short walk around town.

Once we had both showered, we headed to the restaurant for an early dinner, as we were both fairly tired from the long journey in cramped quarters. “Are you doing a double degree or just the bachelor in Science and Doctor in Veterinary Medicine?” Marcus asked me after we had ordered our meals and soft drinks.

“Yes I am doing a double, but the other course is at UWA, in Zoology, which Murdoch doesn’t offer, luckily I can do most of it online, so I only have to attend lectures once a fortnight there,” I replied, “Wow, that must be quite a challenge, I am struggling as it is just with the Veterinary course,” Marcus responded.

“Yes, it is tough, but I am coping quite well with both, and it gives me a broader scope of a career, especially with working out in the Pilbara region,” I replied, just as Marcus’s phone rang. “Hello Mother, no I am not coming home for these holidays, I am travelling with a friend to his families cattle station in the Pilbara,” I heard Marcus say as he rolled his eyes, and I almost burst out laughing.

“Yes, I already know about that plane flying low over Horrocks mother… how do I know? Well I was a passenger in that plane, my uni buddy has a pilots licence and that is his own plane, and it is an awesome experience flying in an old plane like that,” Marcus stated.

He held the phone a little away from his ear as his mother screeched a reply, saying it is unsafe to fly in old planes like that and she forbids him from getting into the plane ever again, and demanded that he returns home immediately.

“Sorry Mother I can’t do that, I will talk to you in a week or two, goodbye,” Marcus said before ending the call while his mother was still responding. “I am going to get a lot of flack for cutting her off like that, but who cares, this is my life,” Marcus said to me, as we continued to eat.

The following morning, after breakfast, we caught a taxi back to the airport, and we were soon in the air again, with our next fuel stop being 2 ½ hours to the north-north-east at Gascoyne Junction, and from there another 2 ½ hours to Paraburdoo.

The final stretch of the journey is 1 ½ hours long to the homestead airfield, and when we finally landed, I was relieved to be finally at home, and a station vehicle was waiting for us, as I taxied the plane to the south end, with my youngest brother Wynn at the wheel, which surprised me a little.

“How come you are not at school” I asked when he climbed out to greet us, “We were released from Grammar School two days earlier, and we arrived home yesterday, Rhodes is out with dad and Mary is at home with mum,” my little brother explained.

“This is my university friend Marcus Sanderson, so you be nice to him ok squirt,” I said to Wynn, “Yes, and stop calling me squirt, you big lanky bully,” Wynn responded, and I stopped when I heard this, and smiled to my brother, before continuing to the vehicle, with me driving back to the homestead.

“Mum said to tell you, that she has set up the cottage for you both to stay in for the semester break,” Wynn informed me, “Ok thanks mate,” I responded, and I drove past the homestead and stopped outside the small cottage, about 300 metres further on.

Once we had off loaded our luggage, Wynn informed us that dinner will be at the usual time and don’t be late, before he jumped into the driver seat and drove back to the homestead. “My little brother is growing up so fast,” I commented, as I picked up my luggage and lead the way into the cottage.

“Nice little cottage, do you stay in here often?’ Marcus said when we entered, “No, I have my own bedroom at the back of the homestead, but when we have a lot of guests, it becomes a guest bedroom, and my other brother and I stay in here,” I responded.

“How many siblings do you have?” Marcus asked me, “Four in total, all of them younger than me, the twins Mary and Rhodes are 6 years younger, Julia is 8 years younger and Wynn who you just met is 10 years younger,” I replied.

“Quite a big family then,” Marcus replied, “Yes, and I love them very much, although on some days… Never mind, you will get to meet them all at dinner time,” I responded, and Marcus smiled. “Apart from our large family, we also have a housekeeper / cook, who cook all meals for us and the station staff, who eat their meals in the staff dining room.

Apart from Rebecca, who has been with is for five years now we have a station mechanic, Trent who has been on the station on the station since just after I was born, Gerald, who is our head stockman, has been with us for twelve years, and we have two seasonal jackaroos,” I explained, as we arrived at the second bedroom.

After showing Marcus around the cottage, I went and had a shower, and changed into some fresh clothes, and I sat in the kitchen listening to the radio, while Marcus did the same, and we headed over to the homestead for dinner.

“Folks and squirts, this is my Uni mate, Marcus Sanderson,” is said and in unison, all four siblings responded with “Don’t call us squirts,” which made me smile and Marcus laughed. “My Dad - Flint, my Mum - Amanda, and my siblings in order of age, Wynn, Julia, Rhodes and Mary,” I said finishing the introductions, and both of my parents chuckled that I had gone from youngest to oldest in order, and Wynn was smiling broadly, that his name was mentioned first for a change.

“Do you have any set plans while you are home?’ Mum enquired after she finished serving out the dinner to everyone. “Well it depends on the project, I would like to go over there and check it out, plus I would like to earn some more money, so as to keep me going for the rest of the year at University,” I replied.

“What project is that?” Marcus asked, “Sorry, I can’t say much at the moment, I need to have a few discussions with my parents first, before I can reveal anything to anyone,” I replied.

“Not even a little hint?’ Mary asked softly trying to butter me up to reveal the secret, and I just laughed. “Sorry Sis, not even to you, it is a matter of wait and see, I am afraid,” I said.

After dinner, while Marcus and my siblings were in the lounge watching a movie, Mum, Dad and I retreated to the station office, so we could have a quiet discussion about the WW2 Air Base.

“Well now, we have some interesting news for you,” my father began as we sat down, and this immediately caught my attention, and wondering what the news could be.

“The Australian Federal Minister of Defence, has granted your purchase of the Corunna Air Base, and area of 120 square kilometres or 29,654 acres of land, and all land beneath it, which means that mining companies cannot touch it for mining or exploration purposes, and that it only existing building sites may be developed to restore the Air Base to its original state.

“This means that all concrete slabs that are on the Airbase can have buildings on it which are what it originally was designed, for the purpose of it being used as a war museum. They have given us a detailed plan of each of the buildings that were on the base, that are not readily available to the general public, including a little surprise.

The base has an underground bunker that are not listed on the Marble Bar Tourism information, or the book that was printed by a former airman at the base, and we are asked that if we are to use the bunkers, that they remain secret,” my father announced.

“So they are letting us buy the land, on the proviso that we build it back to the way it was? That is going to cost some very serious money to do that,” I stated.

“Yes it will, and we are prepared to invest a lot of our savings into this project. We have already begun, by buying some old shed frames from former WW2 Army buildings scattered around the country.

We have been in contact with a scrap metal company in Port Hedland that deals with repurposing railway line tracks, and they will be trucking in the first shipment of rails to the site at the end of this coming week, Dad said to me.

“What is the railway iron for, and how much are you getting?” I asked. “We will be getting quite a lot in, as we have a long fence to build, we are getting a fencing contractor in, with some heavy equipment, to dig post holds and concrete in railway iron posts every five metres, and the posts will already be cut to the desired length of 5 metres long for the 44 kilometres of fence line.

We decided that a low but strong fence would be best, so it will be only a metre high, with a top railway iron rail, which will be sufficient to keep all vehicles out, although motor bike may be able to fit under them, so we may get the fencing contractors to make the top rail a little lower.

We have also been in contact with the restoration committee of the only B24 Lancaster, still remaining in one piece in Australia, who had to stop the restoration, due to lack of funds, and they are prepared to sell the aircraft to us, since the plane was one that was based at the airbase at one time during the 2nd World War,” Dad replied.

Copyright © 2020 quokka; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Great chapter. Jex and Marcus get home safely. Marcus tells his Mum he won't be going home for the summer. We discover the WW2 base is being restored and that a B24 Lancaster has been bought, that needs restoration. Looking forward to more.

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B24 Lancaster? Surely it is a B24 Liberator or the Avro Lancaster.

Edited by croyde
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10 hours ago, chris191070 said:

Great chapter. Jex and Marcus get home safely. Marcus tells his Mum he won't be going home for the summer. We discover the WW2 base is being restored and that a B24 Lancaster has been bought, that needs restoration. Looking forward to more.

Liberator not lancaster

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quokka

Posted (edited)

10 hours ago, chris191070 said:

Great chapter. Jex and Marcus get home safely. Marcus tells his Mum he won't be going home for the summer. We discover the WW2 base is being restored and that a B24 Lancaster has been bought, that needs restoration. Looking forward to more

Edited by quokka
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6 hours ago, croyde said:

B24 Lancaster? Surely it is a B24 Liberator or the Avro Lancaster.

Yes it is Liberator

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Another great story, but, sounds like trouble from people who would ignore a No Tresspassing sign blocking the road.

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An abrupt place to end the chapter. But it's still good, I'm being drawn in by the fascinating details and the knowledge you have.  I think this would benefit from paragraph line spacing. The information on plane flying and restoring the old WW2 base is interesting.

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Pleased Marcus decided on spending the break at Jex's. The coastal fly-by would have been major news for a small rural community. As indeed will the news that Marcus was risking life and limb, according to his mother. Quite amusing and certainly not the last he will hear of it.

I like Jex's family setup. It's a bit like the Walton's with Jex as John-boy.

Obviously the family are business savvy and see the recently acquired air base as a good investment but it's sure costing a substantial amount to meet the building regulations. It seems they can't sell it as a mining proposition so where are they going to recover their investment? I probably missed something. Its definitely an interesting story. Looking forward to how they intend to spend their break earning some cash. 

Wynn seems like a cute little bro who will want to spend some time with his big lanky bully of a brother. I think he'd be fun to have around at times.

Edited by Bard Simpson
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Yes, the B-24 was known as the Liberator in America, but the Brits frequently gave more English names to the various fighters and bombers that were supplied to the English Air Force during WWII. It MAY BE that the B.-24 was called the Lancaster in England and the that it and the Liberator were the same planes, just given two different nicknames by the two Air Forces? At any rate, the plane is a four engine, high wing heavy bomber with vertical stabilizers (rudders) at the ends of the horizontal stabilizer. Its predecessor, the B-17 had trouble with enemy aircraft attacking from below as visibility in that direction was cut off by the low wing. The B-24 was equipped with a turret on the fuselage over the wing which was more efficient protection than was the ball turret under the wing of the B-17.
During the closing days of WWII the Americans and the British alternated day and night raids on the European continent, subjecting the enemy to nearly continuous air attacks. After D-day the pattern of air raids continued with the raids rolling ahead of the advancing ground forces. The German war machine was driven underground by the pattern of air raids and their ability to manufacture replacement armament was seriously hindered.

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1 hour ago, Will Hawkins said:

Yes, the B-24 was known as the Liberator in America, but the Brits frequently gave more English names to the various fighters and bombers that were supplied to the English Air Force during WWII. It MAY BE that the B.-24 was called the Lancaster in England and the that it and the Liberator were the same planes, just given two different nicknames by the two Air Forces? At any rate, the plane is a four engine, high wing heavy bomber with vertical stabilizers (rudders) at the ends of the horizontal stabilizer. Its predecessor, the B-17 had trouble with enemy aircraft attacking from below as visibility in that direction was cut off by the low wing. The B-24 was equipped with a turret on the fuselage over the wing which was more efficient protection than was the ball turret under the wing of the B-17.
During the closing days of WWII the Americans and the British alternated day and night raids on the European continent, subjecting the enemy to nearly continuous air attacks. After D-day the pattern of air raids continued with the raids rolling ahead of the advancing ground forces. The German war machine was driven underground by the pattern of air raids and their ability to manufacture replacement armament was seriously hindered.

During some recent research, I have discovered that some of the B24's are in the graveyard in Touscon, USA.

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It seems Jex's folks are investing a lot of money...is it just to keep the mining operation out or do they plan to turn it into a tourist and museum site?

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We have an air raid shelter in our back garden, the interior is lined with concrete, corrugated iron the timber has been treated with creosote to preserve it but of course it smells awful in there 

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