Fly Me Home

By Sue Bagust

As the Japanese launch simultaneous attacks on American and British territories in the Pacific, George must act quickly to protect his country, his inheritance - and his girlfriend.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sue Bagust
• Release date: Feb 11, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463378267

Sue Bagust

Sue Bagust is an author, playwright, advertising copywriter and Reiki therapist/trainer who lives in SE Queensland, Australia, with her husband, cats, dog and a few noisy geckos.. Sue previously published two Reiki workbooks and also writes plays.

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FLY ME HOME

Stories of wartime Australia by Sue Bagust

DECEMBER 1941 – JANUARY 1942

Fly Me Home is very well written and I could virtually visualise the whole story as I was reading it as it was written so well. Thank you Sue.

Klara Szonner Cheasley

I loved reading Fly Me Home being that it was so well written with great description of the surroundings as well as the characters, you can put yourself at the scene. As always, love your work Sue.

Rachel Astill

Sue is a wonderful storyteller; seemingly effortlessly constructing a rich and detailed world in which her multi-faceted characters inhabit and draw the reader into their trials, struggles and triumphs.

Donna Jones

This is a good story with great characters. Best of all, I knew there was a second book coming.

Sharon Jarvis

"Fly Me Home is a wonderfully vivid and realistic story set in wartime Australia, which captures to absolute perfection the mannerisms, speech patterns and social mores of the period. As the full drama of Australia's situation unfolds, with Japanese invasion a real possibility, life on the home front must go on and in this novel Sue Bagust has brilliantly interwoven everyday suburban life with the horror of the battlefield.

In so many books written by contemporary authors about World War II, the reader is regularly jarred by the insertion of 21st century cultural values and modes of speech. This never happens in Fly Me Home and anyone who has lived through the 1950s and 60s, and heard the speech patterns of that previous generation, will instantly recognise the accuracy of the dialogue. In fact, the sheer depth of research is astonishing in this book, far ahead of most offerings in the genre.

There are more books to come in this series and I'll be lining up for them. Thoroughly recommended for anyone who loves historically accurate fiction, appreciates the ethos and manifest courage of wartime Australians, or simply enjoys a rattling good yarn."

Geoff Barlow, Goodreads review

If you’d like to share your thoughts about Fly Me Home, my email is [e-mail] and I would appreciate your feedback. I do hope that you enjoy reading this book as much as I enjoyed writing it.

©The moral rights of the author are asserted and all rights reserved except as permitted under the Australian Copyright Act 1968 (e.g. fair dealing for the purposes of study, research, criticism or review).

Originally published by Sue Bagust 2019

This edition 2021

Cover photo: Edna Maroske, Haddon Hall waitress, Brisbane 1940

DECEMBER 1941

Men and women of Australia, we are at war with Japan.

Prime Minister John Curtin

December 1941 marked Australia’s coming of age.

When Japanese troops simultaneously landed on the north coast of Malaya quickly moving south to threaten Britain’s Fortress Singapore and Japanese carrier-based aircraft attacked the United States’ Pacific fleet at Pearl Harbor in Hawaii, Australia was suddenly threatened by a foreign power at a time when her fighting forces were on the other side of the world. Prior to this Australia trusted Great Britain to dictate foreign policy but when Japan challenged British and American power in the Pacific, Australia discovered that Mother England did not intend to defend Australia and that Britain’s war effort in her Asia/Pacific Empire would focus on protecting Singapore and India.

December 1941 was the time when ordinary Australians, young and old, did extraordinary things to save themselves and their country and a nation and her people came of age.

Monday, 1 December, 1941

BRISBANE, AUSTRALIA: A city building

George’s mood vacillated between anger and amusement at this absurd interview. Even a newly commissioned officer like George knew that the Army didn’t ask where you preferred to serve. In the real world of wartime 1941 the army posted you to where they wanted you, yet these two old men thought they could get him to believe that they had the power to offer him a specific role in the Australian Army, and what’s more expected George to also believe that he had the power to refuse their offer.

Even worse, one of these old men was George’s Trustee, his cousin Paul, the person who informed George last April that instead of inheriting his father’s estate when he turned twenty-one, the Trust was to continue until George turned twenty-five.

Up to then George had toed the line, studied law as encouraged by his Trustees, and waited eagerly for freedom. When he learned that his inheritance was still under his Trustees’ control for another four years George spat the dummy, resigned his place with a prestigious Melbourne law firm and after a lost and drunken week enlisted in officer training as his own declaration of independence.

Since that time George angrily avoided his Trustees as much as he could, so finding his detested cousin at this ridiculous interview was an aggravation as well as a surprise. Like Alice, he was lost with two Mad Hatters leading the way but if he had wandered into Wonderland he may as well enjoy the show until he found out what game these two men played and schooled his face to conceal his feelings.

It sounds like interesting work, sir, George commented politely when it appeared that a response was expected from him. His politician cousin Paul Gillespie nodded complacently at George’s response, but the other man who had introduced himself only as Mr. Smith looked at George sharply. George put on his most innocent expression and Mr. Smith relaxed slightly but still watched George closely, much as George would evaluate a young horse at the sales before making an offer. Although George was curious about the job he was more curious about Mr. Smith, and especially what this civilian had to do with the Army.

Do you have any questions, George? asked Paul, his urbanity slightly ruffled by George’s silence.

Why me? answered George bluntly, which shocked his normally chatty cousin into silence.

Paul Gillespie looked at Mr. Smith, so George looked too. Mr. Smith finally said, Because Paul says you have the qualities we need, and Paul assures me that what you don’t know you’ll find out quickly.

What exactly will I do? questioned George. So far all you’ve told me that it is challenging, exciting and important for the defence of Australia.

Paul interrupted with a glance at Mr. Smith, I’d say it’s more crucial, than important.

George nodded, accepting Paul’s correction but watched Mr. Smith instead of Paul as he continued, What does the work entail? Say in a normal working day?

Paul and Mr. Smith exchanged looks and Mr. Smith leaned forward to reply, That’s the problem. We don’t know what a normal working day will be. You’ll write your own job description as you go.

George laughed briefly, which surprised Paul but not Mr. Smith who continued to watch George carefully. George sobered and watched Mr. Smith equally carefully as he replied, I’m happy to write my own job description, but I’d like to see some sort of business plan before I start writing. We may have different opinions on what is, George paused to glance disparagingly at Paul before continuing, Challenging, exciting and crucial for the defence of Australia.

Fair enough, Mr. Smith agreed before saying, Australia needs information, especially from the north.

George nodded slowly, By information I suppose you mean intelligence?

Mr. Smith grinned and George found himself grinning back as he realised with a shock that he could work with this man, even if Mr. Smith did associate with Paul Gillespie. Mr. Smith nodded, Except that everybody laughs at the idea of Army intelligence that is correct. Mr. Smith thought for a moment, silently watched by both Gillespies, to George’s surprise. Usually his cousin Paul would have filled in any blanks in the conversation, easily keeping the social ball in play. Paul Gillespie was confident, charming, good-looking in his grey-hair maturity, and very happy to shake hands with anybody he met even outside his own electorate. Paul was a real people person, a perfect politician for all seasons including wartime.

Who was this Mr. Smith, that he could command such respect from Paul Gillespie? Eventually Mr. Smith replied, We have some networks in place, but we need to co-ordinate and manage those networks, and we need to analyse and put a value on the information we receive.

In the event of a Japanese attack? queried George.

The old men nodded in unison, looking so absurd that George couldn’t resist the temptation to tease. But why do you think the Japanese will attack? I know that they’ve been active in China for the last ten years, but China and Japan have been at loggerheads for centuries, he commented gently as he offered his mother’s opinion, an opinion popular with many Australians. Both men stopped nodding abruptly to stare at George. George was amused to see Paul was speechless, a phenomenon rarely seen, but Mr. Smith looked at Paul sharply before he replied, "You do know that Japan signed the Tripartite Pact with Germany and Italy in 1940, as an equal major world power?

George nodded warily, wondering where Mr. Smith was leading him. Mr. Smith continued, England and the United States are currently the superpowers in the Pacific and naturally want to protect their empires, but after the last world war Japan sees herself with equal rights to exploit the Pacific’s resources. Paul shifted uneasily in his chair as George leaned forward, fascinated by Mr. Smith’s assessment of Pacific politics. Mr. Smith smiled slightly as he noted George’s interest. He continued, Uncle Sam tried economic sanctions and penalties to limit Japanese expansion, but our intelligence from our sources in Japan confirm that all this did was to anger the Japanese people and swing them to support Japan’s military.

Paul flung up one hand with an abrupt, That’s enough, but Mr. Smith ignored him, still watching the fascinated George.

Without land and oil, Japan can’t survive. Mr. Smith suddenly smiled, but it was not a nice smile, as he continued, England’s naval base in Singapore and Uncle Sam’s naval bases in the Philippines and Pearl Harbor block Japan’s expansion south and east, which means Japan can’t access the oil they need in the Dutch East Indies or the land they need to build their Pacific empire.

Paul stood up from his chair to walk angrily to the window and stare out, his back turned to Mr. Smith. George noted his ineffectual protest and enjoyed Paul’s discomfort, even as he found himself drawn closer to Mr. Smith. Mr. Smith watched Paul, before turning to George and saying abruptly, Japan will start a war in the Pacific. It’s not a matter of if; it’s a matter of when and where.

George nodded slowly and asked bluntly, Are you talking about spying?

No! exclaimed Paul immediately as he turned back to face the office, but Mr. Smith shrugged and replied, If you think that’s what is necessary. You’d advise me on setting up a spy network, and you’d be the person to set it up. Mr. Smith paused, before continuing, Or you’d recommend the person to set it up.

Mr. Smith watched George as George evaluated Mr. Smith’s explanation until George nodded again, when Mr. Smith stood up to unroll a large map over the desk. Look at this, he commanded and both George and Paul leaned forward to look as Mr. Smith swept his hand over the map covering the islands to the north of Australia, I want your eyes on this whole area.

That sounds like a job I’d enjoy, said George, but I would still like to know what qualities I have that you want for this job.

Looking for compliments, are you? asked Paul, only half-jokingly as he frowned at George.

That would make a nice change from you, retorted George, but what you think I can bring to this job will help me write that job description. It will give me a better idea of what you need from me.

Mr. Smith nodded approvingly and Paul responded to Mr. Smith’s approval by walking back to his chair as he said, You’ve got people skills, George. You’d make a good politician. Paul stopped to laugh at George’s instinctive reaction that he didn’t try to hide. I know, you don’t think you would, but people like you, and they trust you. What’s more, they tell you things they wouldn’t tell anyone else.

George frowned as he thought about his cousin’s words. It wasn’t hard to know a lot of people when he was related to half of Queensland and his family did business with the other half. George then looked at Mr. Smith speculatively when he admitted to himself that he was also one of those people who thought outside the accepted way to achieve the result he wanted. If his ability to cut through expectations could be a useful skill in this job that Mr. Smith offered, it would serve George to take this job offer seriously. Rules and red tape was likely to be George’s downfall in a normal Army posting, which George knew only too well.

On the surface this job could be satisfying, but George felt instinctively that there was something else that these two men were not telling him. Secrets hung in the air as insubstantial as morning mist. George had to find the right questions to ask to clear the fog.

Any more questions? asked Paul impatiently.

George stalled for time to think about what questions he should ask, Lots, but the first is who else is on your team from the Army? Paul didn’t answer immediately but instead looked at Mr. Smith, which surprised George. Somehow he had stumbled on the right question to ask. Mr. Smith answered slowly, The Army has found me someone who knows the area as well as the Army and he will be good at the paperwork, but for the daily operations I want someone who knows the rules well enough to break them creatively.

George thought about this answer for a minute. Although he had been given a lot of information he still hadn’t been given a name. Who is he? George asked bluntly.

Why? questioned Paul, frowning at George.

Because he’ll be my boss if he is Army, and I want to know if I’ll be able to work with him to deliver what you expect.

The two men exchanged glances, and eventually Paul shrugged and commented to Mr. Smith, That’s a good point. Mr. Smith nodded and Paul said, It’s Nigel. Nigel Alexander, your cousin on your mother’s side.

George nodded slowly. The prospect of working with Nigel wasn’t an inducement. George decided to hedge his bets and replied, May I have time to consider your offer? even though he still doubted if he would be allowed to refuse this job if that was what the Army wanted. He was reluctantly granted twenty-four hours, and George’s way of thinking things through was to walk through the city that he loved, that he had always thought of as his home town despite the number of years he had been away.

When George left the room Paul stood up, to pace impatiently back to the window. He stared out at the Brisbane skyline for a moment, before he faced Mr. Smith to comment, Maybe we should have just let the Army post him where we want him?

Mr. Smith looked at Paul impassively, before replying, We did that with his cousin, and that didn’t work well. Nigel Alexander looks on this whole operation as a joke.

Paul replied quickly, That’s just Nigel’s manner. He does joke about everything, but underneath he’s solid. He’s an Alexander, and he knows what is expected of him by his family as well as his country.

I hope you are right about Nigel, answered Mr. Smith slowly, just as I hope that I am right about George. Mr. Smith added thoughtfully, I do know that giving George the impression that he can refuse is going to backfire if he does refuse. I need his intelligent cooperation.

Paul nodded glumly and turned to the window again to look out over Brisbane, comforting himself with the thought that at least both young men had safe desk postings thanks to Paul. Now it was up to George to recognize the benefits of working at a desk, and up to Nigel to start working. Paul sighed. He had done the best he could for his family, but was it enough?

As Paul turned back to the window, Mr. Smith looked up from the map to study Paul unemotionally. He distrusted Paul’s motives in only recommending members of his own family, but the truth remained that he had approached Paul for his recommendations and that both Nigel and George could be useful to Mr. Smith when the Japanese empire began a war in the Pacific.

Monday, 1 December, 1941 (Later that afternoon)

BRISBANE, AUSTRALIA: Ann and Edward Streets

George reached another corner and stopped, surprised to find that he had already reached the corner opposite the graceful verandahs of the People’s Palace. He grinned as he admired the sprawling Federation building and thought that if Brisbane was his first posting he would need to find lodgings if he didn’t want to live in barracks. However, he would prefer to find somewhere other than this Salvation Army temperance hotel to live.

At least if he joined the Australian Army fighting in the Middle East, he wouldn’t have to find himself accommodation in this overcrowded city. George looked up at the blue sub-tropical sky and thought that it would be nice if he could be given some sign as to which road he should take. He smiled at his own hubris, looking towards heaven for a sign when the whole world needed heaven’s help far more than he did.

Added to which, he still didn’t know if he had the power to decline Mr. Smith’s job offer. He suspected that he would probably be assigned to Mr. Smith’s operation even if he declined this flattering assignment and laughed to himself as he considered turning the job down to test his hypothesis. He tucked that thought away for later as he joined the jay-walkers as they dodged the pre-war cars and the clanging trams to cross the road.

Even though civilians still outnumbered uniforms sleepy Brisbane had woken up since 1939 when Australia declared war on Germany, but did he want to spend his war in Brisbane? And if he decided not to test the murky waters of Mr. Smith and his politician cousin’s world, did he want to be posted overseas to fight for Britain?

If he stayed with the regular Army he could expect to follow his father’s footsteps with an overseas posting, an exciting career with regular promotion, and an honourable return to civilian life.

Although George wanted what every young man in the Army wanted, the glory and the adventure of going to war to defend his country with his mates, this morning’s meeting presented him with another option. He could be more use to his country right here, in Brisbane. George shrugged his shoulders when he admitted to himself that one of the hardest things to accept would be Nigel Alexander as his senior officer.

Suddenly George grinned, as he realised that the problem of working with his cousin Nigel was also an answer to his question of why both he and Nigel had been chosen for Mr. Smith’s organisation. One of the things they had in common was their family and business contacts through the Australian mandated territories, and therefore inside knowledge that could be useful to the Army in the buffer zone to the north of Australia.

George nodded to himself, his mind made up. He was an adult now and no longer a scared child to be tormented by an older cousin. Nigel would not be able to intimidate the adult George, and if Nigel tried then George would be happy to show Nigel the error of his ways. It was then George realised that he wanted the Brisbane job. The role he envisioned in the coming months would be more useful to Australia’s defence in a Pacific war than as one of the many young officers posted to the Middle East to fight for Britain.

George stared blankly at the tea room he had stopped outside. The Tea Cosy was not his normal haunt, but maybe a cup of tea would help George make a checklist. Or maybe he could get a beer, if he could remember which pubs were open now. George looked at his watch impatiently, realizing that he was out of touch with Brisbane pubs and their opening hours. A cup of tea would be easier. George stared through the tea room window at the interior. It looked clean and welcoming, and it would be a relief to escape the heat of Brisbane’s summer streets for a while.

Inside the tea room Mrs. Janssen was very aware of the young officer standing on the pavement, deliberating whether to enter. This was exactly the type of customer Mrs. Janssen wanted to attract to the Tea Cosy but all she could do was silently will George to enter her tea room. She smiled when she saw George smile; that was a good sign.

As she prepared to welcome George at the door and usher him promptly to a table, Mrs. Janssen looked quickly around her tea room. Good, one of Edie’s tables was free, and the gentlemen liked Edie with her blonde curls and exuberant attitude that even a demure waitress uniform couldn’t subdue. However Mrs. Janssen misinterpreted George’s smile, which was a laugh at himself rather than approval of the Tea Cosy. George thought drily that if he couldn’t organise himself a drink when he wanted one, how would he organise somewhere to live quickly?

The family house was a possibility, but if he opened that house his mother would soon descend on Brisbane ready to do her duty which she saw as organising George’s life. Finding somewhere to live in wartime Brisbane would probably be his hardest task for today now that he had decided to accept the job offer.

Master George?

The quiet question brought George back to the present moment and the sober middle aged woman standing in front of him, smiling hesitantly as she asked, Is everything all right? You were miles away.

George laughed, Mrs. Collins! I haven’t seen you for years.

1935, it was, when I left the station to marry Mr. Collins.

That’s right! Didn’t you come to Brisbane to open a pub?

Mrs. Collins nodded. Yes, we had enough money to buy a small hotel and we were going to fix it up but we never did get it finished, and then the war came and Henry enlisted.

George wasn’t surprised that the pub never reopened. Henry Collins’ workmates called him Blisters because he only ever turned up when the hard work was done. He couldn’t imagine Blisters working hard enough to ever open a pub door from the inside, even if it was brand new and ready for customers, although Mrs. Collins was the hardest working housekeeper that had ever worked for the Gillespie’s.

"So