Published: 03 Apr 2017

Early Thursday morning Clem Wilson was away from his property for most of the morning, ignorant to what was unfolding at the mine. One of the welders working with oxy-acetylene became unaware that sparks were smouldering in some dry grass close to where he was working. He was called away for less than a minute and on returning found the paddock alight, with the fire heading towards the cyclone fence and Wilson’s property.

The mine workers were called out in an attempt to prevent it from spreading further but hadn’t the equipment to do so, or know-how to handle such an outburst. On reaching the fence the fire paused, giving the workers time to pass through the main gate and attack it from the opposite side. By the time they arrived at the seat of the fire, the wind caught it and with unbelievable speed it rushed across Wilson’s paddocks towards his house and out buildings gathering heat and speed as it travelled.

At that very instance Clem Wilson returned in his Land Rover. He had been watching the ordeal unfold while driving down the incline towards his house. What he saw created much urgency, forcing his foot to the floor, almost loosing control of his vehicle while turning the final corner to cross the small log bridge spanning a dry creek. Alas he was too late. All he could do was stand by at a safe distance as the fire engulfing his sheds, home then onward into the paddocks holding his stock. The cattle panicked but couldn’t escape the smoke and heat, their bellows of fear and terror heartbreaking.

Within an instant Wilson had lost his home, sheds and stock while on the opposing slope towards the mine, stood a number of miners, silently positioned in a long line, holding fire extinguishers and shovels. One held a rake, while another had nothing but his empty hands.

By the time the mine’s manager phoned the CFA, the fire had long passed the Wilson property, escaping into a pine plantation. In doing so releasing the sound of a hundred screaming beasts, while feeding on the ample pine oil.

Back in town little was known about the Two Mile fire. Although it had spread into the pine plantation, it was heading in the opposite direction from town and by most reckoning would burn itself out at the far edge of the plantation, as there had been an earlier fire in that area that had consumed all fuel beyond the plantation for quite some distance.

At the police station Barnes, suffering from heat and the night before, sat sweltering under an immobile ceiling fan, as once again the power had failed. Somewhere in the distance he heard a telephone ring and Payne’s voice answering. Barnes opened the top drawer to his desk and reached for the half bottle of scotch, resisting temptation he closed the drawer. He would have to give up the grog he thought but knew he would not. The Sergeant stood, reaching for his hat as Payne entered his office.

“Trouble up at the mine, looks like a bush fire has gone through the Two Mile and into the plantation.” Payne declared, filling his chest with hot air, while glancing at the inert ceiling fan.

“Has there been any loss of life or property?” Barnes asked but didn’t care. It was his duty to ask but empathy was not in his training manual, besides his Constable would have enough for both of them.

“They didn’t say but Wilson’s property is between the mine and the plantation and it is tinder dry.”

Barnes released an acknowledging grunt and left the Station.

At dusk the temperature was still hovering at forty as the town closed down for another sweltering night. The evening’s news reported more hot weather for the following days, with a hot gusty wind from the west ahead of a front that should bring good rain and cooler conditions. Relief was on its way even if more than two days away.

During the night the two CFA fire trucks returned to town without ceremony, while their crews remained at the station in readiness. They with two other trucks stationed half way between town and Ravenswood, had done all they could to dampen the plantation fire and believed it to be controlled but not before it had taken with it every plantation tree. Now all they could do was wait until the hot front arrive from the west and pray that the cooler weather behind the front would arrive earlier than predicted.

Payne remained on duty through the night, usually he would have calls switched to his mobile telephone before returning to his room but the heat and a need to be ready if there was an emergency kept him at the station. Occasionally he would take himself into the street and cast his eyes to the west. Each time there was nothing but an expanse of darkness and a carpet of stars.

Around two thirty Payne took the short walk to Wilson Street to visit the CFA station. It was in darkness, the power had not yet come back and the men had dragged chairs into the car park where they sat in quiet conversation, while the weak yellow light from a hurricane lamp gave impish expressions to their concerned faces. Here Payne remained a while in conversation before taking a walk along the main street.

Some distance ahead he noticed what appeared to be a group of children hanging around outside the closed picture theatre. Payne approached immediately recognising Brett Fraser. The other three were children he knew by sight but not by name from the Estate.

“Hey Brett – over here!” He called across the street. The Estate children turned and slowly headed into the opposite direction. Brett Fraser obeyed, crossing the street a little ahead of Payne he paused.

“What are you doing out at this time of night?” Payne asked, attempting to display as much authority as he could possibly muster.

“Nothing,” Brett answered cheekily.

“Does your dad know your out?” The Constable asked gruffly closing in on the nervous lad.

“Doubt it he’s pissed.”

“Come on let’s get you home.”

Payne placed his hand onto the lad’s back, guiding him towards the direction of the Fraser home. His intention was to wake Bill, suggesting he show a little more parental control over his son.

Within a few house blocks from the Fraser home, Brett took to flight, quickly disappearing down the side of one of the houses, setting the resident dog barking as he went. Then as nimble as a Jack Rabbit was over the rear fence and gone once more into the town. Constable Payne gave a disgusted grunt and returned to the Station.”There is only so much you can do.” He grumbled in disappointment with the lad’s attitude.

Within half an hour of the Constable’s return the hot wind arrived, with heavy clouds building to the west; Black and dry stretching in a single dark line across the moonlit sky. Heat weary he once again left the station to have further words with the fire crew. There wasn’t anything happening. Just wind, for sure they had done their job well and doused the Two Mile fire, even if more than likely it would have extinguished itself once it finished with the pine plantation and reached the already burnt out area.

Payne once again gazed to the west – Nothing, then to the east and the first light of the new day crept slowly towards the town. He breathed a sigh of relief and returned to the station. If possible, once Barnes came on duty, he would return home for a few hours sleep.

Early morning the power returned, fans whirled and air conditioners hummed but within that same hour the power once again failed. Friday found children as usual on their way to school and folk going about their normal business, unaware of the dry electrical storm powering its way from the north-west, starting another fire in the hills midway towards Ravenswood. The existence of the fire was soon broadcasted but most believed it would be attended too as had the fire at the Two Mile.

Sergeant Barnes, who had been on duty since eight that morning, wasn’t surprised when he received a telephone call from the bushfire control room.

“How’s everything your end Sid?” The caller greeted and by his tone the words were sweetener before relating his true message.

“Bloody hot Rob,” Barnes answered, feeling sweat trickle down the centre of his back and the beginning of heat rash in the pits of his arms.

“We may have a problem over your way.” Rob Townsend warned.

“What would that be?”

“Big fire to the north-west, at the moment its heading towards Ravenswood but were expecting a wind change later in the day; better put the town on alert, I’ve already let your fire crew know.”

“Thanks Rob I’m on to it.” Barnes answered and called off. “Fuck I could do without that.” He hissed into the hot air. He again lifted the receiver and dialled.

“Hey Payne, better get your arse into gear, we are about to have problems.” Barnes barked into the receiver.

“What would they be?” Payne asked.

Barnes took a deep breath before explaining the situation. It was decided they should take immediate action to alert the town’s folk as an early precaution.

“Right you visit the Primary School and I’ll do the High, I think we should have the kids return home and warn their parents. Also have them warn anyone still at home in their streets.” He suggested.

“What about the rest of the town?” Payne asked.

“I’ll have the fire station sound its siren and call a meeting.”

For the first time in years Sergeant Barnes was acting like an officer with responsibility. He gave a soft huh and smiled at the concept. “Shit they will make a citizen of me yet.” He thought while on his way to visit the School. There was even lightness in his gait as he went. Possibly all he needed was calamity to draw out his finer points. Giving credence to that thought his back straightened and the frown dissolved from his face. Even the black dog cowered from him to its kennel.

Mid afternoon and the town hung in flux. It was hot, once again the electricity came on and once again failed but there wasn’t a single hint of the distant fire front. Some had already packed their most precious belongings and left town, while others brought out their old battery operated transistor radios to monitor the conditions. At the Wilson Street house the boys were of two minds. Esca thought he should stay and if needed help fight the predicted fire, while Luke declared they owed nothing to the town and had even less to lose, so should pack and leave for Queensland and Jack’s offer.

As dusk drew near the power returned, giving many a false sense of security but true to form it once again failed before anyone could finish cooking their evening meal. Also the predicted wind change had arrived but lacked the strength that had been forecasted.

“Come and have a look at this,” Luke called Esca to the back yard, his gaze through the darkening sky towards the north-west. Esca obliged.

“What are you looking at?” He asked fixing his sight to where Luke pointed.

“There’s a definite glow in the direction of Ravenswood.” Luke claimed.

“That would be the town itself.” Esca declared.

“I don’t think so; I’ve never seen it before, besides Ravenswood is more across to the right.”

“Then what is it?”

“That’s the glow from the fire and it seems closer than they have told us.

Lets go and talk to the crew down at the fire station.” Luke suggested and was gone before Esca could answer. Esca followed.

At the station the firemen had put away their previous night’s chairs from the car park and were milling, like ants, around the two trucks examining their equipment.

“What’s happening?” Luke called from the driveway.

A tall thin young man dressed in protective clothing paused from checking his kit. In the faint glow of the station’s lamp lights Luke recognised him as Stephen Mullins, a friend who finished school the previous year. The young man spoke.

“Luke Campbell; have you come to join up?” Mullins smiled and continued with his work.

“Don’t think so, what’s happening with the fire?”

“Best you talk to the boss about that.”

As the young man spoke, Tom Herbert, the station’s supervisor approached. “Shouldn’t you two be down at the sports ground with the rest?”

“I didn’t know we had too?” Luke answered somewhat amused with the unfolding drama.

“It was suggested. Didn’t Barnes do a door knock? I saw him in the street earlier.” It was true there had been a suggestion issued without urgency. If real danger arose the station would give warning on its siren but in Herbert’s thinking the more early arrivals at the sports grounds, the less likely for panic when and if the time came.

“We may have been out.” Esca answered.

“When the wind changes the front could be on us in no time.” The fireman warned. Luke gazed about through the still hot air in disbelief. How could catastrophe come out of such a clear night? The fireman caught Luke’s doubt and corrected it with a warning. “It will come and soon.”

If Luke had doubts, Esca had none. On their return home he decided they should be at least cautious and load their few remaining belongings the utility. Luke agreed.

While loading the Ute it came. Firstly a short hot gust, then once again stillness, followed by a constant hot breeze but lacking the gale strength that was promised but strong enough to bring on a fire front at a rapid pace.

“I can smell smoke.” Esca declared, sniffing at the breeze, “burning Eucalyptus leaves.”He added placing the last box into the back of the Ute.

“I can too.” Luke agreed, carrying a small cardboard box.

“What have you there?”

“Your mother’s photo albums, I found them in the shed before we moved across and people always complain photos are what they miss the most.” Luke declared.

“True, although they’re mostly crap but we better take them.”

“Maybe we should leave now?” Luke suggested.

“Na, wait until sunup, don’t want to go driving around in the dark, anything could happen, come on lets go to bed.”

Brett Fraser stayed out all night with his mates from the Estate. There was electricity in the air, exciting every electron in his body. The idea of the pending fire exhilarated the lad and with many of the town’s folk already evacuated, or camped at the sports grounds, he decided to extend his house breaking career and not so subtle at that. If a door were locked he would heave a rock through a window, hurling stones was his specialty anyway. It was mostly jewellery and cash that held his interest. He found little of either and had no idea the difference between costume jewellery and the real item, so by morning had a pocket full of junk, while leaving behind more damage than value gained.

Just before dawn the strong continuous breeze from the west gave way to intermitting gale force gusts from the north-west, bringing with it a shower of burning leaves and twigs. Firstly the arrivals were only smoke bombs, as the fire was yet too distant for sparks to remain alight but was enough to have the warning sounded to evacuate or gather at the sports ground sounded.

Soon after the safety of the town was left in the hands of Constable Payne as Barnes headed for the fire’s front with the two fire trucks. Why he did so was baffling as he lacked any true knowledge in fighting fires or organisational skills. Possibly he was dragged along with the drama of the situation, or perhaps he actually found that single and rare humane bone that is supposed to be in even the most evil of men.

Both Esca and Luke delayed their departure, instead hurried themselves to the fire station, with last minute offers of assistance, as they had done with the grass fire before. They arrived too late, only finding the radio operator on duty. The trucks with full crew had already left.

Back home they decided to wait as long as possible before evacuating. There had been many false alarms in the past and maybe this would also be such.

“Before we leave why don’t you contact Jack and let him know we are on the way.” Luke suggested.

“True I’ll go and call him now. Fire or no fire, we will leave this afternoon.”

By ten o’clock that morning, it was becoming obvious the fire was on track towards town and closing by the minute, while at its front the fire trucks became stranded on the wrong side of the front. All they could do was fight the northern lead and hope for the best. Sergeant Barnes was with the smaller truck that attempted to outrun the fire to the south but within an area called Scrubby Creek, became blocked by a fallen tree at the very moment the fire’s front hit the highway, roaring through the grass and trees at a speed that was unconceivable, it’s sound deafening, taking away the crew’s ability to think clearly.

In an attempt to reverse the truck stalled with the heat, giving the crew only seconds to find safety, as the eucalyptus canopy above their head exploded in a massive fire ball. Most threw themselves under the truck and turned on the water valves but Barnes became disoriented, attempting to run back the way they had come. He had only taken a dozen steps before being overcome by the heat and smoke, stumbling onto the melting road surface, then like a roman candle he caught fire, while the truck’s crew could only watch in horror from beneath their vehicle.

Back in town the streets were deserted and the shops closed for business. Some remained behind, believing they could protect their properties, buckets of water handy and garden hoses ready. Fred Jones was one of such, remaining in his Butcher Shop, peering constantly at the changing conditions in the main street through his shop windows; surely being so far from the edge of town the shops would be safe.

Bill Fraser remained in his house, he had been drinking heavily the previous night and oblivious to the pending danger. As for his son Brett, he was smart enough to take himself to the Sport’s Ground but not before stashing his cache of ill-gotten gain from the previous night’s robberies.

Within one long hour live sparks began jumping far ahead of the fire’s front landing close to town causing spot fires. Fraser had come out of his drunken state and went to find his son. Firstly he called into his News Agency. It was closed and his assistant long gone to the safety of the Sports Ground. Henry Wallace likewise was closed but Fraser found Fred Jones still in his shop. Hammering on the Butcher Shop door, Fred let him in, both casting aside their hostilities for the duration of the crisis.

“Have you seen Brett?” Bill asked anxiously.

“Not this morning, he’s most probably with the rest of the kids down at the sport’s ground. Fraser wasn’t convinced, he returned to the streets in search of his son.

Not thinking intelligently Fraser went to the High School, maybe people could be gathered there. It was deserted. As he approached the school yard, his attention was drawn towards Butcher’s Hill and its long grass prancing like wild horses in the hot wind. At first he saw smoke coming from beyond the hill and the cemetery, then tongues of flames crowned the hill as a red devilish coronet. The fire had reached the town.

Fraser became frozen to the asphalt of the School yard, watching the flames engulfed the hill, before descending at the speed and sound of a freight train towards the first street of houses and the scrub behind the Brody house; his possession and his torment. The Brody house gave a shriek as its timbers exploded into flames, its old and dry condition was no match for the inferno. Moments later and house by house the entire street below Butcher’s Hill was alight.

From the footpath outside their shop Graham and Richard witnessed the panicked state of Fraser and without hesitation rushed to the School yard, dragging him speechless back to the bottom street. As they did so, a group of town’s folk arrived, carrying wet bags and fire extinguishers. Seeing the fire and how quick it had devoured the row of houses they remained on the bottom street with the school yard and playground as a buffer. Looking towards each other, thinking how hopeless their wet bags appeared. It was as if they had arrived with a bottle cork to plug the spill of an ocean. A man carrying an extinguisher laughed loudly out of a sense of the ridiculous, placing his apparatus to one side. All they could do was watch in hope as the already fire damaged High School succumbed to the flames.

As the group watched in amazement and terror they were approached by Constable Payne. His gait hastened his face red through heat and concern.

“I think you lot should take yourselves to the Sports Ground.” He shouted while still at some distance. No one moved to leave.

“You may not be safe up here; the fire has already taken some of the houses over on the east side.” There was urgency in the policeman’s voice. If they didn’t make haste they may be cut off from the Sport’s Ground.

Bill Fraser’s home was on that side of town, without speaking he lifted his eyes pitifully towards Payne.

“I’m sorry Bill.” Payne apologised.

“Have you seen Brett?” Fraser asked somewhat dejectedly.

“He’s over at the Sports Ground, now I think you should all hurry.”

Richard paused from the group’s progress to lock the shop door.

“That will do a bloody lot of good.” Graham commented sarcastically.

“Where are the fire trucks?” Someone demanded from the rear of the crowd.

“They ended up east of the fire and we’ve lost one.” Payne answered. “Also Sergeant Barnes, he was with the truck.”

“They should have been here.” The voice interjected in anger.

“Wouldn’t make any difference, how could two trucks put out this lot, besides the water supply has failed.” Payne explained as they quickened their haste towards the Sport’s Ground.

In progress towards the Sports Ground Fraser turned once more to gaze blankly towards the Brody house now an inferno of flames and falling roof iron; bucking and exploding in the intense heat.

“As you sow, so shall you reap,” he muttered almost inaudible while taking up the rear of the group. He once again turned his eyes to the product of his revenge. He gave a grunt and reluctantly accepted nature’s revenge as even his wicked nature could not out class this fire. He had also lost his own home and still owed mortgage on it to the bank, it was a certainty they would demand financial reprisal. He thought of Four Kings and their gleeful treatment of the financial services and now how the tables had turned.

Esca had been checking the house for anything they may have forgotten to pack as Luke bust through the rear door, his voice excited and laced with a measure of urgency. “Better make it quick.” He shouted as he travelled, stumbling over some boxes on his way.

“What’s the matter?”

“The fire is in the back street!” No sooner had he spoken the house commenced to fill with smoke being carried by the strengthening wind. With haste the two evacuated the house. “Should we go to the Sport’s Ground?” Luke asked as they left.

“No were leaving altogether, should be alright to the south if we hurry.”

At the bridge the fire was tumbling along the creek fed by the oil in the mass of dry Tea-trees along its banks. They crossed the bridge with the flames lapping below its concrete structure, before continuing its ravenous way along the dry creek bed towards the closed timber mill and its supply of dry and rotting logs.

At the cross road they turned west towards the fire, before, at the Two Mile and past the burnt out mine buildings and the Wilson property, turning south away from the town and its obvious destiny.

“Hey there’s someone walking along the road ahead.” Luke exclaimed while passing the Two Mile. The air was so full of smoke and from their distance it was difficult to make out who it was. On approach the figure was recognised to be John Rush and fully dressed but lacking footwear.

“We should give him a lift.” Luke suggested. Esca stoped the Ute beside the lad.

“Hey Rush, do you want a lift?” Luke asked as Rush came close to his window. What met Luke first was the stench. The lad’s clothes were clean, almost new but beneath the pristine surface of the material was his unwashed body, caked in dirt and body odour, which travelled through the cabin of the vehicle to reach Esca. He gagged.

“Suppose I could do with a lift.” Rush answered flatly, his hand on the door handle.

“No room in here mate, hop into the back.” Luke demanded preventing the door from opening.

Half an hour’s drive through thick timbered country and into the southern hills they reached the lookout where they paused. With such serenity it was difficult to believe nature could be so cruel to its own creation. Below and at some distance they could see the extent of the bush fire. It had burnt from the north western horizon to the town and once there went no further. Even through the haze of smoke it was clear that more than half the town had been destroyed, also much of the commercial main street but the area around the Sport’s Ground appeared to be untouched. Even at that distance they could see the ruin of the Supermarket, Newsagency and the Butcher Shop, as well as everything between.

Esca cast his gaze towards Butcher’s Hill its crown was blackened while the row of houses at its base of the hill was gone, as was the Brody house. Was it divine justice? Esca thought not. It commenced to rain. Esca laughed. “The old girl’s done her job.” He commented. Nature had had her way with his home town and revenge was not his nor Fraser’s but hers and he didn’t feel revengeful only pity.

The town would be rebuilt new and the fire became only memory, as was that of the Thirty-nine fire and people would argue which was the most destructive. All that would remain of the old town would be the prejudices and hatred. Fraser would still have his greed, as would Jones and, if they survived, the rest. The town would have a new Police Sergeant, maybe less corrupt. Maybe it would be Payne himself. There would still be Estate children to be led by the likes of Hutton or Brett Fraser and all would be as it was before. Same stage same play, possibly different actors.

Esca’s thoughts for the town were as black as its surrounding countryside. “But it won’t have us.” He concluded with a sigh before turning away from the ruin. Nature had closed the chapter on his youth and even if for some sentimental reason he wished to do so, he could not return.

“What next?” Luke asked as the rain reached the lookout.

“Suppose we head north. Are you sure you still wish to come?” Esca asked on returning to the Ute.

“Silly question, you don’t get rid of me that easily.” Luke declared emphatically.

“I don’t want to Luke, you’ve become part of me; do you want to drive?”

Luke didn’t reply he sat silently as that day drew to a close and darkness filled the cabin of the vehicle.

“You alright back there John?” Luke called back to their passenger seated in the rear of the vehicle. Rush gave a nod and a grunt before moving back under the tarpaulin away from the mist of rain.

“What are we going to do with Rush?” Luke asked.

“Dunno, it’s up to him I suppose, if he want he can tag along?” Esca answered.

“He will have to have a very hot, long and soapy bath first.”

“Too true,” Esca grinned.

Luke pushed himself back into the vehicle’s seat releasing a light sigh. “Let’s head north and find Jack.”

The End……

Gary would appreciate your thoughts on his story. Gary dot Conder at CastleRoland dot Net

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