‘I tell you what I’ll do though,’ Jim suggested. ‘You write me a personal piece on Tony Baldini. You know, human-interest stuff, his background, his length of time in Australia, his family born here, and you bring up the threat of his internment. You get some quotes from Tom Aikens, too. Tom’s already gone public with his views on the internment of aliens, particularly those with Australian citizenship. I could print a piece like that.’

Pete smiled gratefully, aware there was nothing more Jim could do. ‘Thanks, mate,’ he said. ‘That’ll help, it really will. In fact, I reckon it’ll do the trick. For now anyway,’ he added drily, ‘who can tell what’s going to happen further down the track? And at least it’ll stop those pricks harassing the poor bastard.’

Both men recognised a truce had been called, as it always was when Pete went off half-cocked or pushed things too far. Jim was very good at his job.

It’ll have to do for now, anyway, Pete thought as he walked out of the office, we can’t risk giving the government an excuse to close the Bulletin. But the time will come, he told himself. I’ll write the article I want to write one day, and if Jim still can’t publish, then bugger Australia’s bloody censors, I’ll send it overseas where it really will be an exposé. I’ll show up all the nasty things they’re so determined to hide.

Deep down, Pete Vickers’ sense of injustice still raged. You don’t have to be at the battle front, he thought, to see there’s more than one ugly side to war.

CHAPTER FIVE

Fear continued to escalate during the early days of April as Townsville prepared itself for the air attacks that would precede the imminent invasion of Australia.

‘Brownouts’ had been in place since the bombing of Darwin, an order that hadn’t been taken altogether seriously, but given Townsville’s current situation, it was warned that blackouts were soon to be imposed. Street lights would no longer be operated and citizens would be ordered to erect blackout curtains, or to paste black paper over their windows or, as some were to do, simply paint their window panes black. If chinks of light were visible, it was warned those who had neglected to carry out their duty would quickly be paid a visit by the air-raid warden.

Ugly concrete bomb shelters had now popped up all over town; dugouts had replaced landscaped back gardens; ditches with sandbags lined many a street; and slit trenches sat beside most of the houses. The once-pretty face of Townsville was ravaged by unsightly growths and ulcerations.

Yet still there were those who managed to have a good time, as people so often do in the face of adversity, and the presence of the Americans provided ample opportunity for enjoyment of one sort or another. In fact, many young women, both in the services and in civilian life, found themselves living a far more social existence than they had prior to the arrival of the military. Movie theatres remained immensely popular, concerts were regularly performed at various venues, and dances were held in hotels and clubs. The military, and most particularly the Americans with troops so far from home, were intent upon keeping their men happy at all costs.