My life story, Henry J Macey [books for 20 year olds .TXT] 📗

Roy Hill it was a straight run into Wittenoom, arriving early Thursday afternoon and unloading the bulk of our load at the shop of Mr Strpine, and the pub. There was a chap there who ran a light aircraft to deliver goods to the outlying stations; we placed his stores in the shop's cold room.

 

Tom Price had got bigger and was now on the run, they had previously driven into Wittenoom with a truck to pick up their stores. We were not due there until Friday morning, so we had the rest of the day off unofficially. We climbed up through Rio Tinto Gorge in darkness, stopping at the top in a large parking area. There were a few trucks parked there the drivers sitting around the blazing barbecue that had previously been built out of rocks by other drivers to cook their food. It had become a regular stop. Tony opened the side door of the freezer and pulled a box out; it contained steaks, burgers and sausages. Form the back door or chiller part he got some eggs and potatoes, we cooked and shared them with everyone there. The beer came from the other drivers, who had been waiting for Tony to arrive.

Tony explained to me that the boxes had come from the cooks at the camps we had delivered to. The cooks had made up food parcels, for Tony to take back to Perth for their wives. For this favour they made up a parcel for Tony not realising that all the other cooks were doing the same, so Tony ended up with several boxes. Early in the morning, we headed for Tom Price and our last drop, as we crossed duck creek there was water flowing through it. Tony told me it was normally dry, it must have rained in the high country and was filtering down.

 

At Tom Price, it’s almost the same distance home if you crossed to the coast and went down the coastal highway, or back the way we had come. Because the road from here to the coast was nothing more than a cattle track, Tony returned the way we had come. When we got to duck creek it was in full flow, Tony drove into it in low gear, gunning the engine to keep the revs high. The nose of the truck dove into the water, I thought we were going right under but it levelled off with the bonnet just under the water. It looked like the bulldog on the bonnet was swimming. We arrived home Saturday lunchtime.

 

On my fourth and last trip with Tony, we were told we had an extra drop if we could get into it. They had found iron near Tom Price maybe seventy miles away at hill 54 (to be called Paraburdoo) there would be a flag on the side of the road to tell us where to turn off. The run went as normal, and we found the flag and turned into the bush. We followed the tyre marks of the survey crew for some way across the open country, passing several stakes with coloured tape tied to them to show us the way.

 

Coming to a stake with a cardboard arrow pointing into a dry creek, the writing on it said to follow the creek bed. Two to three miles up the creek there was an arrow pointing out, it was quite a climb up the bank and we thought we might belly the trailer at the top of the climb, but we were almost empty and were able to pull it over.

 

Passing through a lightly wooded area we got caught in the soft ground the wheels digging themselves in before we knew it. With shovels, it took an hour to cover less than half a mile until we sank to the axles and could move no further. There was nothing for it, but to walk the rest of the way to get someone to pull us out.

 

Luckily it was not much further, and after several miles, I reached the camp and got them to send their D4 bulldozer to pull Tony and our truck out. The camp was made up of four sleeping tents, with a larger tent to cook and eat in. Two, three-ton ex-army trucks, two Toyota land cruiser's a six-wheel drill rig, and of course the bulldozer.

 

From here it was quicker to return home via the coast road, we were told how to get there by going through a cattle station called Deep Dean. We crossed some open country until we reach the fence that separated the two stations, and then followed the fencing track until we found the gate to cross over into Deep Dean territory. Stopping at the homestead, Tony asked for permission to cross their land, it was just a formality really, an act of courtesy if you wish, for we had already travelled for two hours on their land. From here a road continued on their land as far as the highway, some twenty miles away.

 

 

Someone from the past.

 

I was in the Kelmscott pub one night, in nineteen sixty-nine having a quiet drink. When I noticed someone, taking an interest in me. He was sat several tables from me, and I noticed him studying me for some time. It was a bit unnerving to see him staring at me, and I wonder if I had crossed him in some way. Those I couldn't see how, as I did not recognise him at all. Then I prepared to defend myself, as he got up and approached me. Many years before I had been accused of a crime, that I was sure my double had committed. Was this another case of mistaken identity, was I going to have to talk myself out of this one. Or fight my way out of the pub, for something I hadn't done.

 

"I know you from somewhere!" He said with a smile on his face, as he got to the table I was sitting at. "Where do you work?" He asked, then shook his head when I said. "Bell Brothers, I drive for them." "No that's not it, where do you come from?" He asked rubbing his chin, and thinking harder." "Taunton in Somerset England," I said. And again it meant nothing to him, then he asked. "What's your name?" Then his face light up into a massive smile, when I answered him with. "Henry Joseph Macey."

 

"Your Joe Macey we were in 4E2 the stoker's mess, onboard HMS Eagle together." Hell, I had left Eagle ten years ago in nineteen fifty-nine, I couldn't remember seeing him before. But he was right I had been in 4E2 mess on Eagle, I had joined her when I had finished training in September of fifty-six. And left her when she went into dry dock, at Plymouth I think in July of fifty-nine. He also remembered Jock Gallagher Ock'ey Ockalton, Smeadly Loather and ginger Cook. My four going ashore mate's onboard Eagle, the fab five as we called ourselves. He also said he had joined the five of us, on some of our runs ashore.

 

"The six of us got kicked out of that bullfight in Barcelona, and I was with you that night we slept on the fishing boat in Naples. When we thought it was our liberty boat because it was just like a Navy M F V. Remember that night in Toulon when we had that sword fight with French breadsticks. Making out we were the Musketeers and that couple that hid us when the French police turned up. God, we had some good runs ashore, can't drink like that now mate. Two pints my limit now, she'd go nut's if I went out and got drunk without her." He laughs and looked at his half-empty glass, then took a swig and laughed again. "Wish I could turn the clock back Joe, we had some good mates in the mob."

 

I knew exactly what he meant, the mates you made in the forces. Were your mates for life, even if you never saw them again after you left the service. They would always be in your head, always there when you thought of the good times. And some of the bad, when you stood back to back defending each other. We sat reminiscing the good old days, over another glass. Telling tales of misshapes we had had, and laughing at tales of misshapes others had had. We were interrupted in our merriment when a hand landed on my shoulder.

 

"I'm an off-duty policeman, and I'm arresting you for having pornographic images." This chap standing behind me said, with his fingers digging into my shoulder.

"I've just heard you say, you have a picture of you playing with pussy. Don't deny it my wife heard you as well, so I'm also arresting you for obscenities in a public place."

 

 Simon and I looked at each other dumbfounded, then he almost fell off his chair with laughter. While I was utterly speechless, at this guys misunderstanding of what was really said. Everybody around us was looking at us, to see what the commotion was all about. And as Simon couldn't stop laughing, I had to explain to the policeman his mistake.

 

"Yes, I did say that we were talking about our old ship. And I said I had a photo taken on the flight deck, it is of me playing with pussy the ship's cat." I said it loud enough for all to hear, and the policeman's face went bright red as the whole of the pub burst out laughing. I got that photo blown up to a large print, and the pub landlord hung it behind the bar. So everybody could see Harry ( Joe Macey. ) in his uniform playing with pussy.

 

 

Onboard H M S Eagle a fleet carrier sister ship of Ark Royal in 1958.

Don a Job

 

When I reported for work after my last trip with Tony, I was called into the office to see Owen. I thought I had done something wrong, but he told me that there was four new forward control, sleeper cab Mack trucks arriving. They had arrived from the U.S. as left-hand drives and were being converted to right-hand drive.

 

These are on trial and will be two-man trucks. Three of the trucks will go onto the regular freezer runs; we are putting one on general work. If you want this one, it’s yours. We will get a driver to partner you unless