Afew students actually enjoyed the pressures caused by constant correction, repetition and competition. These were rare, Albert acknowledged, his eyes moving casually from one student to another. There were only two he could identify in that year’s intake. They stood out far in front of the rest of the class. Neither had previous language training and neither were members of the military.
Albert was pleased. He did not particularly enjoy devoting his life to teaching soldiers whose ultimate purpose was to kill. Intellectually speaking, he found the civilians who attended these courses far superior to the other students. It was for these reasons that Albert created opportunities to develop closer relationships with the civilians. Albert was wise enough to realise that these were the officers selected for overseas posts who might, in time, provide him with assistance should the requirement arise.
The bell rang announcing the end of the period. Albert’s attention returned to his class. The students looked to the instructor who nodded, indicating that time was up. Their expressions reflected the mental fatigue. Written tests often produced this quiet response. As they departed Albert collected the papers and, as it was the end of the school day, he wandered home to the accommodation provided.
Stephen Coleman rubbed his eyes and immediately wished he hadn’t. They felt like sandpaper, irritated by lack of sleep and cigarette smoke. Far too much smoke. He realised that rest was imperative to prepare for the oral test scheduled for later that day. His head ached, the temple pulse exacerbating the pain with a dull throbbing sensation, beating a brittle drum inside his head. He knew that he consumed far too many cigarettes but this was not the time to break the habit.
The course pressure was devastating. Already four students had been removed and they were still only in their first quarter! The course was damn difficult and it was obvious that they were burning people off. They wanted only the best. Previous year’s confidential records clearly indicated that most students failed or were removed either early in the course or, surprisingly, during the last days towards graduation.
The latter was a direct result of accumulated pressure for, as the end appeared in sight, some students virtually collapsed with memory loss, unable to remember even the basics of what they had studied through the long and mentally demanding year. The rewards were considerable for those who successfully completed the training. For some, instant promotion, for others a posting overseas with excellent career opportunities.
Coleman lighted another cigarette. Leaning back he viewed his cell-sized quarters. Small, sparse, practical. Almost claustrophobic. The adjacent rooms were occupied by dedicated military types who had considerable difficulty accepting civilians on their courses. He smiled, recollecting the first assembly.
Soldiers marched in, saluting, pivoting and stomping their feet at one another with gusto. The Timorese instructor, expecting students, not toy soldiers, was horrified. Ground rules governing an acceptable standard of conduct were explained. These were received with grunts of disapproval from the army, smiles from the navy and airforce, and cool disdain by the few civilian participants. This obvious contempt for all things military was the hallmark of public servants, which the servicemen found intolerable at the best of times.
Students were given a native name suitable to the language studied. Ranks and service seniority were to be ignored on campus and all were expected to live in the allocated accommodations, separated from family. Quarterly breaks of one week were scheduled. Most students utilised these leave breaks to consolidate their vocabulary while others simply disappeared, escaping the dull monotony of endless study.
Pre-selection for attendance had been announced in the monthly Government Gazette and it was not until the preliminary tests were conducted that Coleman realised that special priority had been given to the training. He observed the number of applicants and was surprised as to the standards demanded for the pre-qualifying examinations.
For some time the Australian intelligence forces had become increasingly alarmed at the accelerated development of military capabilities in some of the neighbouring countries. Indonesia was of particular concern considering it boasted the third-largest Communist party in the world and was well armed with sophisticated weaponry supplied by its Soviet mentors.
The Australian public was deliberately kept uninformed as to size and capability of this immediate threat, as Australian cities were clearly vulnerable to attack from Indonesia’s air and sea strike arsenal had their Government been motivated to do so. That was the enigma. The Indonesians never displayed open hostility towards the Australians and yet attacked the very concept of a united Singapore and Malaysia. The two British Commonwealth states had recently formed their own Federation together, and the Australians were unsure of their best course of action.
Defence specialists urged the government to embark on a program which would give greater access, through information collection, to enable more accurate interpretation of the mass of foreign language material made available through Australian embassies and friendly powers. The difficulty lay with the defence sector’s inability to source qualified personnel with acceptable security clearances to assist in filling the information vacuum. The decision had been made to provide immediate training in Asian languages to specific branches of the Government ranging from defence to information services.
Coleman was surprised when he was selected for the course. He had studied journalism at college before joining the department, believing at the time that this would provide the opportunity to travel abroad. But it hadn’t. As a career it lacked the excitement his contemporaries enjoyed. Life in Canberra had been dull and, more out of boredom than any other motivation, he had applied for language training when the positions were called.
The financial rewards were attractive also, although he believed that few of the applicants were motivated by the considerable salary increases offered. He had not stipulated Bahasa Indonesia . The selection committee, having assessed his preliminary aptitude tests, decided that Chinese, Thai and Vietnamese would be too unmanageable due to the difficulties of tonal pronunciation. He had considered their decision and decided that this course was difficult enough. Had he attempted the Thai course there was every possibility that he would already have returned to his desk in Canberra.
The alarm sounded startling Coleman. Five o’clock! He had studied through the night without sleep. He yawned. God how his mouth tasted! His sense of smell was practically nonexistent but he knew the room stank of stale smoke and the partly demolished block of New Zealand cheddar.
He shaved, showered, and dressed quickly. Outside it was light and Coleman left his quarters and walked briskly towards the sea where, to his relief, the tide covered the foul smelling seaweed which could, at low tide, turn even the strongest stomach. He enjoyed these early morning walks.
Coleman reflected on how he had changed over the years. His present success continued to surprise him. He had been a shy and unconfident child! An only child, Stephen Coleman had grown up in an atmosphere filled with intelligent albeit often inebriated debate, and witty but cutting sarcasm, as both his parents were professional people who were often, to Stephen’s amusement, fiercely competitive towards each other.
As a young child he experienced an ongoing sense of loneliness. His parents, due to the nature of their work and interests, were basically peripatetic and disliked putting down roots of any kind. They travelled extensively and the inside of his wardrobe doors were lined with post cards from the most exotic places one could imagine. He had spent his adolescent years in boarding school.
At night, when the other boarding students were asleep, he would lie on his bed visualising these faraway places and conjure up some fantasy in his mind to carry him off to those destinations, not necessarily to be with his parents, but to escape the monotony of being a teenager ensconced in the rigid disciplines as determined by the school’s masters.
He had been one of those children who could pass through