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Royal Australian Air Force-Personal Narrative

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“See ya, young’un. Good luck for Satdy.” A hint of sincerity creeps into my tone as the words leave my crackling lips. I watch young Gary Black stride towards his house, disappearing through the door without the slightest sound. I felt sorry for that young’un, the burden of responsibility will devour you alive. Slowly, though, similar to gents feeding on the carcass of a deceased kangaroo. I glance down at the tattered seagull feather resting on my palm; it had seen better days. The edges were frayed and the once startling night black framing the sides was a dull grey. I twirl it over and over with my scarred fingertips, staring into the empty space where Gary had been moments before. All the memories come flooding back in a tsunami of images. Moments throughout my life I wish I could forget, but find myself clinging desperately to. This chapter of my life commenced in Edinburgh 1938, vast plains of bushland surrounding a thriving town, densely dappled with bricked buildings and the smell of smoke and eucalyptus strong in the air. I was twenty eight when I joined the Royal Australian Air Force. However it hadn’t been a dream of mine, I guess I was in the right place at the right time. I had been travelling, I was growing weary of home and wanted to spread my wings. It was the Equestrian statue of field marshal Earl …show more content…

I remember examining the faces of my new family, groping their features with my eyes. Arthur, Bruce, Carl, Fredrick, William, Norman and I were the white division of our squadron. Jarli, Jeddah, and Tau were black fellas, but they were legitimate, authentic men. Rock-solid builds, over six foot tall and rigid, adamantine muscles. Cruel, stony expressions mortared their detached faces, a smile never reaching their lips. The entire white race of our squadron felt intimidated. The discovery that the Aboriginals were gentle souls, easing the tension within our

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