Young, Gay and Scared - 18. Chapter 18

18.1

Life for the Nasho’s settled down into a boring routine. Special drills, marching, lectures on aircraft recognition, and other useless activities accounted for most of their time. Several tests were introduced to weed out cadets who had the ‘right stuff’ to become pilots. Not many qualified. Into this mind-numbing boredom, a free weekend offered a reprieve for these young tortured souls. Minor matters such as war in the middle east, the coming Olympic Games, the Cold War, the threat of nuclear attack and the state of the Economy gave way to more important issues such as comparing the difference between local and home state beer.

Of course, every lad eulogised his girl-friend as the Queen of Beauty, the one who would willingly offer herself physically on his release from Nasho. Well, what could you expect from hormone-rich adolescent boys? Suspiciously, some lads didn’t come equipped with a photo of their femme fatale.

Sex and sexual prowess dominated their thoughts and conversations. Bold declarations about the need to visit brothels grew in volume as a free weekend approached. Lying became an art form; most young men would rather do guard duty than face an experienced prostitute.

As several weeks passed by, Ryan and Fred became close mates, to the exclusion of other acquaintances. Ryan started to look at Fred critically, noting his most sexually attractive features. With his blond hair, hazel-green eyes and muscular build, Ryan decided Fred had the necessary to acclaim him a ‘spunk’. But then he would compare him to Tony and it just wasn’t a contest. Tony dominated his sleeping and personal time.

On free weekends, the lads would catch a train into Melbourne and hit the pubs. Then with a skin-full of booze, they would entrain back to Laverton, spending Sunday recanting their drunken exploits.

One such Saturday found Ryan and Fred alighting from the train at the main metropolitan station.

“Where to now cobber? Anybody recommend a good pub that doesn’t cost the earth. What d’yer wanna do?”

“I’m easy Froggie[1], except I don’t wanna go see museums, art galleries or visit churches. I’d rather find a good pub where we can get boozed and listen to this funny game of footy called ‘Aussie Rules’.”

“What about Young and Jackson’s the pub famous for the painting of a nude sheila called ‘Chloe’. We ain’t been there, so why not give it a try, eh?”

“Ok, I’m in . . . ummm, where the fuck is it?”

“Would ya believe just across the street here, it’s on that corner over there. What say?”

I’m gonna have to be really pissed before I start drooling over some nude sheila. If that turns Froggie on I’ll have to go with him. Can’t let him think I’m not interested.

“How about we make it our last stop before going back. All we gotta do is stagger across the road to catch the train.

“Good plan. How about we walk up this street over there and call into the first pub we find.”

“Sounds good, lead on you mighty warrior.”

And that’s how the day started. They applied themselves brilliantly to the day’s military objective and by mid-afternoon found themselves outside Young and Jackson’s pub, magnificently pissed. They entered almost reverently into this famous public house, searching for the legendary painting. Not being able to find it, they ordered beer and asked the bartender.

“Cloe? Yeah, she’s upstairs in the saloon bar. We hadda move her because the traffic fumes were affecting the oils. Up the stairs you go and tell the bartender there to only charge you public bar prices. It’s what we do for you Nasho blokes. Enjoy.”

With glasses full of cold amber liquid they ascended the stairs to the Saloon bar. There, on the wall behind the bar, was the famous painting. They stood there in disbelief because there wasn’t anything special. She stood completely naked upright with one slender leg covering her vulva. You couldn’t tell if she was pretty because she had her face turned away. Maybe his expectations were too high because Ryan couldn’t see anything special about her. The portrait, strung up behind a hotel bar, depicted a young girl standing nude. That’s all. Definitely not sexy. Disappointing.

But I gotta remember I’m a poof and don’t appreciate female beauty. I suppose a hetro bloke would do his goolies [2]over the tart.

‘(Disbelief) Whatya reckon Froggie? It don’t turn me on much. I mean, she’s nuthin special. Whatya think?”

“(Disappointed) Yeah, I can‘t see what all the fuss is about. She’s just a young sheila like plenty I’ve seen before. Can’t see what makes her so special, ‘cept she’s in the nuddy. I agree – disappointing. So let’s get stuck into the booze, I’m almost sober again.

And that’s how the afternoon progressed. The beer flowed generously because other patrons, noticing their uniforms and being patriotic, kept a free supply coming.

As the afternoon moved to a close our lads were verging on being legless; to cure this dangerous situation they opted for more beer. Being Ryan’s shout, he fumbled with his wallet and nearly emptied out the contents in search of cash. Leaving his wallet on the table in Fred’s care, he staggered to the bar to get yet another round. Fred took a cursory look at the contents strewn on the table and began to look elsewhere when he suddenly froze. And then nearly stopped breathing. In an instant, he sobered up completely.

It couldn’t be, that photo . . . it’s him. No mistake, or maybe I’m just pissed. How come . . .

Just then Ryan returned with their beers and couldn’t help noticing Fred’s face. He looked as if someone had hit him in the guts. His skin had a chalky colour, and his wild eyes looked frightened; like a wild animal trapped in a light. Even in his inebriated state Ryan could tell something bad had happened.

“Whatsup Froggie, you don’t look so good?”

“The. . . this photo (with trembling hands he extracted the photo from the pile in front of him) who is it?”

“Oh that; it’s me mate Tommo. Bit of a sad story there. He was a good mate, really good mate, so I keep it for memory’s sake. Why?”

“(Tensely) Where did he go to school, Ryan?”

“(warily) Umm, went to school in Tamworth at some Christian College, then came back home to go to Manly High School. Why?”

“(upset) Oh my god. Oh my god, I knew it, I knew it, Oh shit.”

Ryan sat stunned at the distress evident in Fred’s face. All over a photo of Tommo?

‘I don’t understand, what’re yer so upset about? . . . (pause) say, you lived in Tamworth didn’t ya say? Did you go to the same school as Tommo?”

“(ignoring Ryan) Why did he leave the Christian College and go back home to school?”

“That’s personal, I’d rather . . .”

“(Softly) was he expelled?”

Now Ryan felt extreme discomfort with the tone and direction of the conversation. Then something stirred in his mind. Something is wrong.

“(firmly) I don’t wanna answer that. Just you answer me this; were you at the same school, and did you know me mate?”

An indefinable something profound had altered the atmospherics; the two boys, now completely sober, knew that a crucial moment had arrived. The past now intruded on the present, and as difficult as it may be, both knew they had to be absolutely truthful with each other.

“(persistent) I repeat Froggie, did you go to the same school as did Tommo, and did you know me mate?”

“Y . .Yes.”

“Yes, to what?”

“Yes, we went to the same school, and . . . and . . . and yes, I did know him.”

Suddenly Ryan had an insight and pursued Fred.

“Froggie, why did you leave school?”

Fred sat immobile facing Ryan with silent tears now streaming down his face. Then his shoulders began to heave with no sound emanating. Ryan decided to give voice to his suspicions.

“(persistent) Froggie, you were there weren’t you? I know why Tommo had to leave school because he told me everything – (firm) everything. I know Froggie, I know.”

“(Pleading) please Ryan please. I can’t answer you . . . I can’t answer you, because . . . because . . . I’m too ashamed. Please don’t force me . . . please Ryan.”

At that point, Ryan had the full picture. Fred was the boy who’d been found with Tommo having sex.”

“Mate, and you are my best mate, I won’t press you because I know the truth. You don’t have anything to fear from me because you, Tommo, and me have the same problem. Before he died . . .”

“What! Tomas’s dead? Oh my god, how did he die? When and . . . wait, wait, did you just say that yer the same as Tomas and me? (Ryan nodded) (Long pause) I can’t get me head around this, it’s all happening too fast.”

Now the oppressive atmosphere lifted somewhat as the light of truth entered and swept away all irrational fear.

“Yes, (sigh) Yes similar to you and Tommo, I like boys. (He paused giving Fred time to digest this news) Tommo killed himself because he came foul of several nasties who bullied him mercilessly. It weren’t pretty Froggie, I’ll give you more details later; right now I want to concentrate on you. You had a tough time after the incident didn’t you?”

Although the tears had stopped, the anguish still remained on Fred’s face, evidenced by the tracks of dried tears streaks running down his cheeks. Taking comfort in the look of compassion on Ryan’s face, Fred just decided to tell all – and to hell with the consequences. Understanding his mate's inner turmoil, Ryan just waited for Fred to begin telling his story.

“When I met Tomas, ummm . . . can I use his nickname? (Ryan nodded) when we both realised we were attracted to each other, I couldn’t believe my good luck. Growing up on a farm I didn’t have much opportunity to mix with boys my age. I guess it goes without saying I knew my attraction to boys began from an early age. You must know what I’m talking about? (again Ryan nodded). I became so desperate I would masturbate over photos of male sports heroes appearing in the local papers. I didn‘t have any brothers or anyone else I could relate too. Being a farmer my dad relied heavily on the bible for moral teaching. My mother simply followed me dad’s lead.”

“So you were basically alone. Didn’t ya have mates from Public school days?”

“Yep, but they was mostly townies and I didn’t have the opportunity to mix with ‘em. Even at church, I kept to meself. But I gotta be honest I didn’t go looking fer friends because of my . . my, inclination. I lived a solitary life, too scared to get close to anybody lest they find out my secret.”

“Shit! Shit! Shit! I know exactly what yer talkin’ about.”

“I guess you do Ryan, I reckon it’s a common fear for us boys who are attracted to their own kind. Anyway when High School beckoned me, mum convinced dad to send me to boarding school . . . Christian of course. He agreed, so I found meself enrolled at The Christian College in Tamworth. It didn’t take long for Tommo and me to suss each other out. We were stupid. Being so sexually frustrated and immature, we just needed to get off as often as possible and took stupid risks.”

“So the time you were caught wasn’t the first time? Did the powers know that?”

“No, no of course not, and we were able to explain it as the first time. What woulda happen if they’se knew we were fuckin’ like rabbits, I don’t wanna know. (Pause) Anyway, both Tommo and I were hauled before the Head separately, so I didn’t know what they did to him. They locked me in a room, so I couldn’t have any contact with Tommo or anybody else. I was shit-scared Ryan, shit-scarred. (Ryan murmured with sympathy) Anyway, at some stage they dragged me into the Head’s office. I couldn’t deny the charge, so they just expelled me; only took about fifteen minutes all up. If I thought me problems were over, I hadn’t thought about me father. When he found out, I thought he would kill me.”

“Did you have any communication with Tommo at any point? I know he tried to get in contact.”

“(Sigh) no, events were moving too fast. At home they locked me up for about a week, I wasn‘t even allowed to eat with them . . .”

“What about yer mum? What did she do? Didn’t she support you in . . . in some way?”

“Nah, you’d have to meet me dad to understand. She couldn’t make any move unless she had his approval. No, completely alone, I just waited for my sentence. About two weeks after getting expelled my father, not my mother, drove me silently to a private hospital away in the bush. All the way, it were a two hour drive, he didn’t say a word. He frightened me so much I couldn’t stop shaking. Anyway, he signed me into this hospital which I later found catered only for mental patients.”

“(Unbelieving) a looney bin! He signed you into a looney bin? Yer own father thought you was mentally crook[3]?”

“Yep, before they took me away, he gave me a dressing-down. Seems, he wanted to cure me of this weakness. This place had been advertised as having special curing techniques and also recommended by the local pastor. Apparently blokes coming back from war were afflicted with same-sex perversion - it didn’t have a name - and they were treated at this clinic. Well, that’s what he told me. It were a short talk, and after he’d finished I became an official patient of the clinic. That’s when my real troubles began.”

“(Concerned) Froggie, is this too difficult, I mean if’n it upsets yer too much we can stop, if ya wants?”

“No, I really want to get it out. Haven’t had a chance to talk to someone about what happened. (long pause) I . . . still . . . still can’t believe Tommo topped himself. I mean he weren’t a weakling so it musta been real bad. Can you tell me more?”

“Yes, but not now because I’m more interested in what happened to you. Sounds like you went through hell and you should get it off yer chest. Please continue.”

“Ok, but what’s the time? Shouldn’t we be getting back to the base?”

“Nah, it’s only four o’clock. We’re free until Sunday midnight so don’t let's worry about time. I want to know what happened after you became a patient.”

“Ok but I’m dry, how’s about I get us refills, eh?”

Fred grabbed their two empty glasses and ambled over to the bar. From his gait, Ryan knew he’d sobered up some.

Who woulda believed I’d run into the other bloke who were with Tommo when they got sprung. Strange, but all this time no-one had even mentioned the other bloke. All Tommo said was there were caught; from then on it were all about Tommo. I feel a bit guilty about Fred because he’s had a bad time, just like Tommo. The poor bastard, having to stay silent all this time and having no-one to off-load his misery. It might make Mr and Mrs Davis feel better when I tell them about Fred.

Just then Fred returned with two larger glasses of beer. Ryan grabbed one and took a large gulp.

“What's with the extra size.? What’re they call this size?”

“It’s called a pot. I’m a bit dry and thirsty again. I’ll need a few of these to finish me story.”

‘Ok by me. If’n yer ok, take up from where yer dad had just been admitted you to this clinic.”

Pause. Fred took another large swill and thoughtfully continued.

“At first it weren’t too bad. I had meetings with a shrink who asked me a lotta questions about me being attracted to boys. He also asked about me family life and what I thought about me dad and mother. I reckoned if this were all it was it wouldn’t be so bad. But after about three weeks of this one-on-one, it all changed. (Pause and taking another drink). One morning they came for me saying it were about time I had some treatment. I didn’t know what they meant. Well, not then but it soon became apparent. Expertly, they hooked me up with little pads attached to me bare skin. I saw that there were little wires running from these pads down under a table.”

“Hold on, didn’t they tell you what was happening? I mean were you given a choice to participate in the test? Did you have any idea what was about to happen?”

“None! The fuckwits didn’t say anything to me. Apparently, me father signed away any right I had to say ‘no thanks’. Call me stupid, but I hadn’t a clue what was about to happen. Anyway, eventually the lights dimmed, and I was staring at a small screen that appeared overhead. Then suddenly a photo of a nude chick appeared on the screen. It stayed there for about, I dunno, about fifteen seconds, and then this was replaced by a photo of a nude male, and then . . . and then, . . . (shudder) I nearly jumped outta me skin as a bolt of electricity nearly fried me. Oh shit Ryan, the pain were awful, and although it only lasted about five seconds, it were terribly painful. I’d never had pain like that before. I cried silently.”

“Shit! They electrocuted you, why? What was the point, because t’me it were barbaric. Something outta the torture chambers of the middle ages. Ok, I’ll shut it, tell me what happened next.”

“(Hesitantly) I’d just recovered when the screen changed, and another nude sheila appeared. This lasted for about the same time and then another nude male image showed . . . fuck! . . . followed by another jolt of electricity. Again I howled in pain. Me nipples were the worst pain-wise, I thought they’d pop out. Excuse me boyo, I get sick remembering.”

“Oh man, oh you poor bastard. Take yer time boyo, I feel sick just trying to relate to what ya just told me. How could they inflict such pain on a young’un? It’s like you’se were strapped into an electric chair like they’se got in Yanky Land. Yet yer hain’t done nuthin wrong. Take yer time. Look sit there, and I’ll get us refills; I really feels crook.”

Fred just relaxed back and emptied his glass. He never thought he’d be able to tell his story to anyone, and now he was sitting here unloading it all to Ryan. It felt good. This is how Ryan found him, slumped back in the chair and idly playing with his empty glass. To Ryan he looked shattered.

“Here, just take a cuppla gulps before ya continues. I reckon yer got guts Froggie, takes guts to talk about this. When yer ready, if yer ready, keep talking.”

“Well, that’s about it. The same scenario was repeated for almost a half hour, after that I was carried back to me bed. They let me rest, but every third day the ‘treatment’ continued, until . . . until one time I just passed out.”

“Why they do this? Why, what’s the point?”

“Simple mate, by associating a nude male with pain and the absence of pain with a nude sheila, they were trying to alter me brain, so I wouldn’t be attracted to blokes, well that were the theory.”

“Sick, sick, sick! I mean I don’t know much about being a homo, but I do know it’s like something’s been hard-wired into yer system before yer born. They’se doctors and supposed to be brainy, so why would they concoct such a bizarre treatment. How’d ya feel?”

“Rotten, but I kicked up such a fuss they only did it spasmodically. I got so mad I threatened to escape and bring the cops in. They soon got the message. But there were worse to follow.”

“How come?”

‘I was molested.”

‘Whatcha mean molested?”

“Just what I said – molested. It started after three weeks. One of the male nurses would creep into me room in the dead of night and have sex with me. I didn’t mind ‘cause it were the only pleasantry I had in that place. He’d masturbate me, blow me, and kiss me for several hours. Then other nurses would join in and we had some really good orgies going. Then they’d use some surgical instrument to loosen up me bum-hole and then fuck me. If’n it weren’t so serious I could really laugh about it now. What they didn’t realise I had more man to man sex in that place that I’d ever have before.”

“(utterly gob-smacked) It’s so hard to believe ain’t it. I mean on one hand their frying ya with electricity to stop yer being a homo, and on the other hand letting you enjoy wild man sex parties. Who could ever believe?”

“(quietly) I know Ryan. I never told any of this to anyone before, and jest sittin’ here talking to you makes the whole thing sound bizarre.”

“Sound bizarre? It is bizarre. In daylight hours they were trying to cure you of bein’ a homo, and at night you were having orgies. That’s all screwed up, I tell ya. Did the bosses know what was goin’ on? I mean sumthin like that would surely get out?”

“No one said anything, there were no big outrage by the bosses, life just went on normally.”

“Ok, but how did it end up? I mean when did yer dad come back into the scene?”

“After three months. Apparently that’s all he admitted me for, so when the time came up, he simply collected me, and took me back home. The hospital boss gave him a report saying I was coming along nicely and should come back for treatment from time to time. I never did, nor did me old man ever talk to me about the experience. He just sorta assumed I’d been cured and that’s that. When the Nasho notice came up he were glad because the Air Force would knock me into shape. HA! HA!”

Ryan sat back and looked Fred over critically.

What a story! That intelligent people could inflict such torture of a young person in order to change his very soul, is disturbing. It’s a miracle Froggie hadn’t ended up a basket case. But jest lookin at him now, I can see how he’s been truly fucked up, not by the electricity, but by the sheer injustice of it all. What kinda parent would inflict this horror on their young’un? I wanna hold him in me arms and tell him it’s all ok, but (sigh) that might give him the wrong signal. And that’s the problem ain’t it, I wonder what Froggie expects about our relationship now I know his darkest secret. I don’t wanna have sex with him ‘cause I’m too much in love with Tony. (pause) Hey, that’s it, I’ll write Tony and ask his advice. Now I’d better get Froggie back to the base before we’re both truly pissed.

<>-<>-<><>

18.2

Life for all National Servicemen continued monotonously with little change in daily life. Some started to wonder why the scheme had been implemented if the only result being to impose mindless boredom on hyper-active young males. Then in October of 1956 global war threatened with Israel invading Egypt on October 29. This became the opening gambit by France and England, who on November 5^th, then landed troops on the Suez Canal ostensibly to separate the two antagonists.

Of course when the mother country goes to war, then the dominions had to follow suit (In the 1950’s Australia still looked to England as home). All National Servicemen were put on forty-eight-hour alert and told to write letters to their loved ones that would only be sent if they were killed on active duty.

Ryan and the rest of the Nasho intake were appalled when told the news. Fighting with real bullets, and getting either killed or maimed, sent shivers of fear throughout the intake. There wasn’t a lad who didn’t believe his rifle would explode in his face the moment of firing aggressively. How could the Defence Chiefs dare to invade their monotonous but idyllic interlude? After all they would be back home mid-December and out of harm’s way. Or so they thought. You see they were only eighteen years old, and some still had not given up their virginity. Those that had were determined to add more notches to their gun. Fear stalked the sleeping quarters and nightly erotic dreams morphed into nightmares.

And then that wonderful man, American President Dwight D Eisenhower, arranged a cease-fire two days later and the crisis vanished. The President became every Nasho’s hero, and immediately topped everyone’s Christmas Card list.

So, after breathing a huge sigh of relief, the Nasho’s of Laverton were finally told they would be called to assist in the coming historic Olympic Games, commencing on November twenty-second. They were expected to be marshals lining the streets for all those events scheduled to take place outside the main arena. So on November 9, the Laverton intake prepared for the opening of the historic[4] Games. They practised crowd control and trained to be games Marshalls. Luckily they were only called to serve as Crowd Control on two days. For two hours they linked arms to control crowds as events, such as the Marathon, meandered their way through city streets. Boring, but after the event terminated, they were free to hit the pubs and join in the general euphoria which existed in Melbourne at that time.

And then came the exciting news. They were to serve as Marshals at the closing ceremony. In the days preceding, they smartened up uniforms, polished brass bits and pieces, and re-read procedure. The excitement grew as Saturday, December 8^th approached. The day dawned fine and clear. In such beautiful fine weather, they were transported to the Olympic Stadium where 102,000 people awaited the Closing Ceremony.

Unbeknown to the crowd a major change had been implemented. Usually, all the athletes marched into the arena following their country’s flag. Because of lingering world tension, the Committee decided to have the athletes march together without National flags. They lined up haphazardly, tall and short athletes, males and females, all of different cultures and origins. The message being that athletes of the world had prime loyalty to each other. As soon as the crowd became aware of the change a feeling of euphoria swept the stadium. To the slow strains of the Aussie unofficial national anthem ‘Waltzing Matilda’ the athletes completed a circuit of the track and then formed up facing the official enclosure.

As attention centred on the flag pole, a choir started up an old Scottish song called ‘Will Ye No Come Back Again’. Slowly the flag lowered, and the singing swelled as first the Athletes, then the whole stadium joined in. People cried and to the Nasho’s watching it also signalled the end of their tour of duty. Tears flowed throughout the entire stadium.

As the flag finally came to rest OC President Avery Brundage, Chairman of the organising committee, simply stated: “I proclaim the closing of the 1956 Olympic Games”. The stadium erupted with joy and acclimation, the athletes started kissing each other, and this raw emotion quickly transferred to the spectators. It seemed everywhere you looked people were crying.

And so the 1956 Olympic Games ended. In seven days’ time, National Service would also end for the young lads at Laverton AFB. The boys assured each other they’d meet each year to keep fond memories alive. However, as much as they would miss friends and acquaintances alike, they longed to get home and renew their normal lives. But to three of these lads, going home meant a continuation of a life struggle. With Fred’s approval, Ryan told Jim all about the horror of Fred’s time in the mental institution. During the final week then Ryan, Jim, and Fred obtained special leave for an afternoon. They headed to a local pub to talk and drown sorrows.

The inside of the pub reflected a country style with exposed wood beams and a long bar area. The interior theme featured coats of arms from the Medieval era with accompanying crossed swords underneath. Being mid-afternoon, the bar wasn’t busy, so they didn’t have to wait or service.

Settling on a corner table Ryan and Jim waited while Fred went to the bar.

“I still can’t believe what Fred went through; surely there should be some law against this horror. The fact that his own father allowed this to happen disgusts me. He should be whipped.”

“Yeah I know Jimbo, but he don’t know if his old man knew about the procedure, so it’s hard to criticize him. Anyway, here’s our grog.”

“There ya are lads, three cold frothy glasses of Melbourne’s best.”

After each taking a large gulp, the three boys simply stared at each other. No one knew how to start dialogue. Then Ryan,

“What about you Fred, what d’yer intend to do from here?”

Before answering that question, Fred turned to Jim,

“(Candidly) From what Ryan’s told me, you’re gonna just turn yer back on who you are, get a girlfriend and eventually marry. Have I got that right?”

“(Hesitantly) You make it sound bad, Fred. It’s not simple, not like you make it sound.”

“(Contritely) Sorry, didn’t mean to dump on you. I got me own reasons, but I’d like to hear from you.”

“(Puzzling) Wait there Froggie, you sound like you’ve made a decision about yer life. I didn’t think you’d made any decision?”

“(Abrupt) Ryan, I think Fred and I are on a similar wavelength. (Quietly) Let me answer Fred’s question. We’ve all got reasons and it’ll help us all if we share with each other.”

“(Annoyed) go on.”

‘(Large gulp of beer before turning to face Fred) In my culture homo blokes are called ‘Sister Boys’. They are generally not accepted by the tribe, because the community protects its continuity with new births. Anyone who can’t or worse, won’t perform, is treated with hostility, because they are a danger to the clan’s future. OK? Then add the fact that Europeans regard homosexuality as a crime, it doesn’t take much imagination to understand homo aborigines have two strikes against them. (After taking a drink Ryan grunted his disagreement) I have a personal problem (ignoring Ryan) in that I went to Grammar School on a scholarship and my people are watching me closely. They want to show we abbos are just as brainy as white folks. If I came out as a homosexual it would be devastating to the extended family.”

“(Hostile) Oh for Christ’s sake Jim, I’ve heard all this before and I’ll say again that you mustn’t let other people decide how you will live yer life. It’s bullshit. (Turning to Fred) Same goes for . . .”

“(Abruptly) Hold on Ryan, you can’t lecture Fred and I about how we gonna live our lives. On the one hand, you tell us that we shouldn’t allow others to dictate how we’re gonna live and then turn around and try and tell us what to do. Yer not makin’ sense!”

(Offhandedly) yeah well, I guess I ‘m guilty. I reckon you can’t deny who you are. Never! Let me ask you Jim, are you a homo? And that goes for you too Froggie. C’mon, it’s just us guys here and we’re close friends. There’s no need to hide the truth is there?”

Both Fred and Jim quailed at Ryan’s directness. They were being asked to publicly declare themselves for the first time, and they simply weren’t prepared. Jim recovered first, but before answering he drank heartily from his glass.

“(Harshly) Why do you need . . .”

(Aggressive) Don’t you dare use the Socratic method on me, Jimbo, remember I studied the great man just as you did. Don’t bullshit me mate, just answer my question. No-one’s gonna hear or be offended by you being honest. Let’s all be candid and open, so we can have a frank discussion. In fact, here may be the last chance you’ll ever have to be completely honest.”

“(Cautiously) Sorry, ok, yes I prefer blokes; Ryan, I can’t deny the feelings I had for you back at school nor can I deny that we indulged in sex. I also know I can’t change how or who I am. So what? What does that matter? We don’t live on an island with just the three of us . . .”

Fred went to make a snide remark, but Ryan . . .,

“(Abruptly) Can it Fred, this is no time for sleazy comments.

“ . . . with just the three of us, we live in a world which dictates what behaviour is acceptable. And it goes one step further by declaring some activities illegal and punishable by getting’ thrown inta jail. What choice do we have? (Staring at Ryan, then at Fred) On one hand, if we choose to live illegally and bear the hostility of society, our lives will not be happy . . . they may even be shortened. On the other hand, if we choose to adopt society’s’ rules by living a heterosexual life, the only problem that may arise is how do we control our basic urges? And that’s you’re point ain’t it Ryan, how do we live in an underground, furtive culture?”

“(Subdued) Look it’s my shout fellas. How about I get refills and I’ll answer you when I get back.

When Ryan left, Fred asked Jim,

“I don’t know how I could live knowing that two cultures were making me an outcast. Have you met any of these ‘Sister Boys’ as you called them?”

“Not many because they seem to go into hiding. To Aboriginals, survival of our culture and tribe are serious issues. Think about your own European codes of conduct, and imagine not conforming, I reckon it’d be hell (Fred nodded energetically). Living life as a normal person and conforming to society, is a small discomfort believe me . . . ahh Ryan’s back with the booze.”

After initial gulps were taken, Ryan turned to Fred, and asked,

“(Direct) What about you Froggie, are ya a homo?”

“(Slowly) I’d haveta say yes. I don’t relate to girls in any way. I can’t even find them pretty. The sight of a nude female makes me feel queasy. On the other hand touching, perving, and dreaming about boys gives me a real hardon, so hard I gets sore. (sigh) I’m guilty sir, of being a 100 per cent homo.”

“(Gently) So all that aversion stuff didn’t do zilch?

“(Sadly) No Jim, it didn’t do anything except leave me with painful memories. As I told ya, the night time sex visits were the only good part. But getting back to your original question Ryan, how do we live furtively in an underground situation?”

“(Questioning) Ok but that’s in the past. What I want to know about Fred, is have you decided how yer gonna live yer life from this point?”

“(Carefully honest) So I’m in the spotlight now eh? I’ve thought about this for some time, I mean declaring meself as a homo. Coming from a Rural community and with a father who practically wrote the bible, my home and social life wouldn’t exist. I’d have to move away, probably to Newcastle or even Sydney. No, scrub Newcastle, it’s just a hick town. If I went to Sydney, well what then? I don’t know anybody, I wouldn’t know where to go to find like soul’s, and probably would end up on the streets using me body for living expenses. Not very exciting, eh? And then there’s something else you blokes haven’t raised yet. There was a fella called Allan Turing who broke the krauts enigma code in the last war and helped win the war. He got caught soliciting a youngster, indicted, went to trial, and then punished with chemical castration. Eventually he killed himself. If that’s what the government does to its hero’s, think what they’ll do to us. Think.”

Ryan and Jim remained silent thinking about Fred’s last comment. If war heroes get treated like shit then there really is a problem.

(teasing) Alright Ryan you’re up. Which way are you thinking?”

“(Insistent) No, Fred still hasn’t told us how he’s gonna live when he gets back home. C’mon Froggie, if you haven’t given it much thought then now’s yer chance.”

“I think I just said didn’t I? I’ll haveta find a sheila that I can feel comfortable with and try and live . . . no Ryan, you asked me, so give me time to say me piece. I know it’s gonna be difficult but when I look at me alternatives, like Jim, I don’t have much choice. If I meet someone in the same circumstances as myself, then I may be able to have a clandestine relationship. But that’s a forlorn hope.”

Fred’s comments subdued the group and silence reigned, accompanied by steady alcohol intake. Into the silence Ryan sighed,

“Well, I’ve been listening to both of you say you’ll hide your true self in order to have a hassle free life. (Pause, long swallow). I suppose I can understand the way ya feel. Another problem yer haven’t raised is religion. Those deadbeats, from whatever cult they’se called, are gonna get heavy against us homos. So we’ve got religion, the law, and society against us, right? You’se say it’s too much, and we’re better to play their game and deny who we are (both Jim and Fred nodded). Well, have you asked yerselves how yer gonna make this work?”

“(Reasonably) Sorry Ryan, I don’t follow you. There ain’t nuthin to work out. We’ll get a girl, marry, have kids and, although I don’t wanna admit it, have man-to-man sex whenever we’re able. Maybe we won’t even have to go looking.”

“(angry) Jesus Jim you make me mad sometimes. Maybe fer a year or ten you can carry out this charade, but at some time yer body will start to crave sex with another bloke. It’s just nature. Do you’se honestly believe a heterosexual bloke would ever want to have sex with another fella? No! they won’t because they aren’t built that way. Same as you’se. And let’s say ya gets married and has kids. What gonna happen when ya gets the urge and hasta go lookin’ fer a bloke for relief? Stumble around dimly-lit, foul-smelling public toilet blocks. Hmmm? What say down the line ya split, get a divorce and leave wifey and young’uns. Their lives are gonna be ratshit! I bet ya haven’t thought of that eh?”

A stunned silence greeted Ryan’s outburst. As all glasses were empty, Jim gathered the empties silently and went back to the bar. Ryan watched as Fred, clearly shaken by his proposition, sat downcast, not looking him in the eye. When Jim returned the silence continued, until Jim,

“That’s a negative picture you’ve painted Ryan. Frankly, I don’t know how to respond. (turning to Fred) What about you Fred, what have you to say to Ryan’s scenario?”

“(Almost tearful) Fuck, I don’t know. Whatever way we turn it ain’t good. I dunno what to do. (turning to Ryan) Maybe if ya told us what you’re gonna do it might help.”

Ryan marshalled his thoughts as he decided the best way to respond.

“You’d haveta meet Tony to understand. I suppose I got sumthin you blokes haint . . . a good and sexy man who loves me. I couldn’t give him up just to satisfy society . . . I love him too much. The first thing we’re gonna do is move in together. What we do in our own private place is no-one’s business. He’s about to become Captain of our local Surf Club and has a lotta respect. I also got some good standing amongst the club members, yeah, whatever that means. What I’m saying is, if we don’t advertise our situation, then no-one will be the wiser. I may have a problem with me mum, but I’ll handle that when I have to. Remember, it’s not uncommon for bachelors to share rent, so no-one will twig[5]. Of course, we’ll have to find sheilas that understand out possie[6] and who’ll let us escort them to social doings. We’ve already discussed this, and Tony has some ideas on approaching likely girls.”

“(Not Convinced) That sounds too ‘chocolate boxy’ for me. It’s all too perfect Ryan. You reckon you can keep this charade up and nobody will notice? I don’t see it; somewhere, somehow yer gonna give yerselves away and haveta live with the consequences. But then, I suppose it could work. Maybe, if I had someone like Tony, I’d be giving some thought to it, but, as of right now, I don’t have anybody, so it ain’t an option.”

“Yeah Fred, I admit I’m lucky to have Tony; maybe that’s the only difference between us three. Having said that, I’ll never give up who I am just to satisfy some bigots, whether they be family, social, or government. Never! Now, let me ask you’se an important question. Do yer think you can have sex with a sheila and enjoy it?”

This invoked an awkward silence. Ryan had hit hard, down low, and dirty.

“Well, someone say sumthin. C’mon Fred, what about you?”

”I honestly don’t know Ryan. I don’t reckon you should be asking questions like that, it‘s too personal. I can’t answer you (turning to Jim) what about you Jim, can you answer?”

“(Sigh) Nope. Not because I haven’t tried it because I have. I won’t answer because it’s too bloody personal. Back off Ryan.”

“Ok, Ok, But you gotta think about it. I won’t ask you Jim, if’n ya enjoyed fucking a sheila because I agree it’s too personal. All I ask is you gotta think about it. It ain’t gonna be a once only quickie and forget, you’ll have to have sex with yer intended, day and night, month after month, and year after year. It’s a bit hard fer homos to keep doin’ it regular like. I know me and Tony have got a few embellishments to try and stop our sex life becoming boring. It’s easy fer us because we can switch roles, you know, whose on top and whose the bottom. You don’t have that choice with a sheila do yer?”

And so the banter went back and forth over a long and boozy afternoon. With the help of Doctor Alcohol, the three lads really opened up and talked about their personal situations. By six o’clock they were really pissed and managed to get back to base without disgracing themselves. The lads basically were saying goodbye to each other.

Ryan vowed he would never betray his true self and undertake to live a lifestyle the same that Jim and Fred proposed. At the passing out parade, the whole intake received praise from the Senior Group Captain and then they were discharged to prepare for homegoing.