“Give me a course for Muldarga,” Mr Drew gasped. Then he coughed and groaned.
Willy turned to look at him and was aghast to see flecks of blood on his lips and shirt front. “You’ve been hit!” he cried, a new wave of fear sweeping through him.
“Just… (cough)… give… m… me the b… bloody course!” Mr Drew gasped.
“Yes sir,” Willy replied. Trembling with emotion he reached for his map in the door pocket. As he lifted it up he was shocked to see that blood was trickling down his right arm and hand onto the map.
I’ve been hit! he told himself. His left hand went to his throbbing shoulder and came away red with blood. For a few seconds he could only stare at it in disbelieving horror.
Mr Drew glanced at him and shouted, “Never mind that! Give me a bloody course—quickly!”
Willy shook his head to clear it and snatched up the ruler and pulled his pencil from his pocket with fingers that were slippery with blood. Quickly he wiped the blood onto his white shirt and then, despite his trembling fingers, he managed to rule a line.
Protractor, he thought.
But as he bent to search for it the engine gave a shuddering cough and began to splutter. Willy looked up and saw with dismay that a streamer of white smoke was shredding out of the cowling and back past his window. Then, as he turned to speak to Mr Drew, the smoke turned black and came in a blinding cloud.
Mr Drew swore and immediately switched the engine off. “Don’t want a fire,” he croaked. He settled the aircraft into a glide and stared through the front. Willy found he was gasping for breath, hyperventilating from fear.
Calm down! he told himself. Then he began to cough as some of the smoke was sucked into the cabin.
Luckily the smoke was on his side and clearing so that Mr Drew could still see. Willy looked out and was shocked to see that they were just scraping over the top of another of the long grey parallel ridges of jagged limestone. As they swept over it the turbulence tossed them around and Mr Drew had to struggle to keep the aircraft in trim.
He turned to Willy and said, “Activate the EPIRB.”
It took willpower for Willy to tear his eyes away from the view ahead. Shaking with fear he groped in the pocket beside the seat and extracted the yellow signal device. Now he realized just how useful training was as he knew exactly what to do to turn it on. Satisfied it was transmitting he placed it back in its pouch. The knowledge that the tiny radio transmitter was already sending signals to satellites in space which would relay their location to a Rescue Centre in Canberra gave him some hope.
At least we will be found quickly, he thought.
Mr Drew hit his arm to attract his attention. “Call… cough… radio,” he gasped.
With an effort of will Willy wrenched his frightened gaze from the smoke and nodded. He picked up the radio handset and pressed the transmit switch. “Race Control, Race Control, this is… grrrkzzzsssh. grrrkkkssszh.”
What the? Willy thought, staring at the handset in dismay. He tried again but all he could get was a crackling, buzzing sound. It was one that he had heard before but at that moment he could not place where or what it meant.
“I can’t get through,” he called.
Mr Drew nodded. “I heard. Inter… (cough) (cough) interference,” he croaked. “They’re jamming us.”
Willy knew what he meant from cadet exercises and the knowledge scared him. He tried again but without any luck. Then he stared through the front and what he saw caused him more spasms of fear. As far as he could see there was row after row of rugged, spiky limestone ridges. These seemed to stretch on into the far distance until they were lost in the heat shimmer. Below was just savannah woodland. It was obvious to him that there was no chance of them clearing the next ridge.
Mr Drew thought so too as he croaked, “Got to put her down.” With that he eased the aircraft around to port and craned forward to peer through the damaged windscreen and smoke.
Willy sat almost paralysed with terror. All he could see were trees that were too close together for the aircraft. A terrible feeling of helplessness gripped him and part of his mind kept trying to tell him that it wasn’t true. But he knew it was and horrible images of dying flitted through his mind.
How will it be? he wondered. Torn to pieces to lie bleeding to death? Or trapped in blazing wreckage screaming with the pain and fear until the hot air seared the lungs and the flesh began to shrivel and char? Oh I hope it is quick, he thought.
Mr Drew turned and spoke quite calmly. “Now listen young Willy, if you ever have to put a plane down in the bush you want to avoid having one wing tip strike a tree. If that happens the plane can be spun around and cartwheel and your chances of survival become almost zilch. What you need to try to do is hit two trees with both wingtips at the same moment. That should rip the wings off and slow you down. That is what I am attempting. Got it?”
“Yes sir,” Willy croaked. Now his whole being seemed filled by the rapidly approaching trees. Terror gripped his mind with a freezing hand. But he was aware enough to note that Mr Drew had swung the plane to port and then levelled out quite close to the limestone ridge on that side. He saw that there was a small clearing, not nearly long enough but with two big white-trunked ghost gums on the far side.
As the aircraft floated over the last of the tree canopy before the clearing Mr Drew put the nose sharply down and then almost at once pulled back on the stick. Willy felt the wheels brush and crackle through the upper leaves and branches of the tree and then the aircraft seemed to stagger and drop. It was almost a stall but instead the machine floated down, the nose aiming between the two big trees. There were more trees ahead and Willy could only stare at them in horror.
“Brace!” Mr Drew shouted.
Despite an almost overwhelming urge to throw his arms up to protect his face Willy did as he had been taught, bending forward as far as he could and gripping his legs. As he did his stomach heaved and the top of his head seemed to cringe in anticipation of being stove in. Then his world dissolved into a series of violent lurches, vibrations and shudders, all accompanied by smashing, ripping and splintering sounds. The aircraft spun and dropped, landing on the ground with a bone jarring thud. It bounced and then spun sideways. Willy clung on but was sickeningly aware that his strength was almost useless against the stunning forces of the crash. His arms and legs jerked and struck at things and his head snapped up and down so violently he thought his neck must break. A sharp pain lanced through his right shoulder and his left seemed to go numb. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the wing and strut vanish.
Crash! Crang! Crumple!
Suddenly the violent motion stopped and Willy found himself looking at open sky where the wing and door had been. I’m alive! he thought as he looked wildly around. Part of his mind noted that the grass beside him was almost as tall as him and a corner of his consciousness made the deduction that the undercarriage had been torn off.
Then Mr Drew’s gasping, wheezing voice penetrated. “Get out lad! Get out quick in case she burns.”
Fear helped Willy to move. Despite what felt like sharp pains in every limb and a painful sensation in his chest he looked down and began pulling at the seat belt release catch.
Undo! Undo! he thought with rising panic as the smell of hot oil filled his nostrils. But the catch seemed to be jammed and he grew frantic in his efforts