Date: Sat, 16 Feb 2019 14:41:28 +0000
From: Vintage Speedoboy
Subject: Schoolboy lifeguard 11

This is entirely a work of fiction and all the named characters are
fictitious and any relation to actual persons living or dead is purely
unintentional.

This story is set in the second word war and is based around the
experiences of a typical British secondary schoolboy living in Southern
England who has succeeded in his quest to work hard saving up money towards
his passage to Melbourne, Australia. These are his Australian adventures.

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books to read on aeroplanes.

Schoolboy Lifeguard Part Eleven

AKA, The boy in the red bathing suit.

Chapter eleven. Donald's day in court.

After finding Donald in a highly distressed state at his house having
escaped from a youth prison only to find his mother dead with swarms of
flies in the house and two cops with him. I took him to Kenny's house where
his mother washed and scrubbed him in the bath whilst I shopped for some
clothes, soap, toothpaste, toothbrush, socks, shoes and a grooming set and
now washed and dressed he looked really handsome wearing his new clothes
and it was the first time I saw his red hair.

We had until this evening to let the cops know who he's staying with as he
will be going up before the magistrate in the morning. He really needed a
local advocate to speak up for his defence when Kenny's father suggested
riding over to Mr. Rushington's house and taking `The night walker' book
with me would be killing two birds with one stone. The first priority was
to recover Donald's bike from his mother's house which is fortunately
stored in their shed which isn't locked. I gave him a crossbar whilst Kenny
rode with me taking along my bicycle pump and puncture repair outfit. My
Boy Scout mind was thinking about their motto-be prepared.



Having arrived at their rickety old wooden shed which looked like it could
fall down at any moment, Donald unlatched the door revealing its untidy
dusty interior fuelling our fears that it could be full of spiders and
having been bitten by a redback recently, it was Donald who entered and
retrieved his rusty old black Raleigh bicycle fitted with Westwood rod
operated brakes sporting kerosene lamps front and rear which was covered in
dust and both tyres were flat.

He re-entered the shed, returned with a hand brush them brushed off all the
dust whilst I checked the brakes still operated and then started to pump up
the tyres. I fully inflated the rear tyre and couldn't hear any leaks but
the front was a different story as no sooner had I pumped some air in the
tyre, we all heard a loud hiss and having previously encountered this
before on my bike, now left at Garden Cottages, I suspected the valve core
rubber, took the valve out and yes, the valve core rubber tube was
rooted. I dug one out from the puncture repair kit, fitted it, inflated his
front tyre and satisfying ourselves there were no further leaks. We rode to
Mr. Rushington's house.



We were all sat together in the living room whilst his wife brought out the
lemon squashes with a platter of her home made Anzac biscuits topped with
chocolate by pouring melted chocolate from a bar onto them when Donald
tearfully recounted his story and started crying. I comforted him whilst
saying.

"Don, please listen, however painful it may be as your story must be told."

Fortunately Mr. Rushington was the headmaster at the local school whilst
Donald attended and he has fond memories of him being a hard working
student who never got into trouble and he was a very honest boy who also
played footy well and has played for the school. I saw that he was like a
German shepherd dog with its hackles up as his anger rose within him with
blazing eyes which he wanted to vent out at Mr. Masters who, if he was one
of his students would have certainly got six of the best and now his mind
was formulating his plan to confront him when he went to get his Austin 16
car out from the garage, started it and let the engine warm up whilst he
phoned him.



Having arrived there, both men talked in the front yard after being
persuaded by Mr. Rushington not to order Donald off his property but us
three boys had to keep our distance whilst they verbally thrashed things
out. We only heard what's being said when they raised their voices as we
heard Mr. Rushington say.

"Do you still have the nugget and if so, will you please fetch it right
now." He went inside the house searching through his drawers having
forgotten where he put it spending about 10 minutes looking for it when he
eventually returned with it and placed it on their table when
Mr. Rushington took out a hammer with its head weighing only a few ounces
and hit the rock squarely which broke into several pieces when
Mr. Rushington vented his anger saying loudly.

"That is iron pyrites or more commonly known as fools' gold. This boy went
to youth prison because of your incompetence where he was raped, set upon
and beaten and he was forced into having to escape from there after they
refused him compassionate leave to see his sick mother. That boy arrived to
find his mother dead in bed with their house swarming with flies and if you
have any decency left in you, you will be at the courtroom tomorrow
morning. He was the most trustworthy boy I have ever had the pleasure of
teaching, the least he deserves is an apology."



Someone had blundered.



Danny Master's face reddened as the enormity of Donald's wronging sunk in
turning him, an upstanding pillar of the community, a man who's very
character and business affairs are beyond reproach and now he's a grown man
suddenly reduced to a gibbering crying wreck bawling out.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, oh god, please forgive me for I have wronged this
boy and don't know what to do?" Now it was his turn to be comforted whilst
both Danny and Jim searched theirs and each others souls looking for an
answer for a boy he once taught. Blame could not be apportioned this day
for that became the court's job and Danny shook hands with Jim and Donald
whilst looking at him with tearful eyes saying resolutely. "I will be there
in the morning."

To which Donald replied.

"And so will I to milk your cows with the rest of the lads, there's a war
on you know and we must all do our bit for the war effort."

I witnessed a miracle that day when differences were put aside to pull
together in the face of adversity. Donald knew that those few months were
lost for all time, never to be regained having passed into history leaving
him to confront his demons and so it was that Jim drove us to the police
station to confirm that Donald would be staying with the McAllister's where
we all spent the evening discussing `The night walker book' having brought
it out with me from the old country which, as a family heirloom has finally
come home.

I felt that book has certainly been on a journey through time, it carried
with it secrets which only a well traveled article can have but its stories
can only ever be passed from owner to owner although its printed pages were
a look at England from a century ago which is changing with the passage of
time and thankfully Jim sought to have this book republished in Melbourne.



After evening meal with the McAllister's Donald sensed the need to visit St
Joseph's Catholic Church to pray although he had a much more honourable
motive. The granite built Victorian church resembled any church built in
England surrounded by a low wall with a large cedar tree growing near the
gable end. He entered through the side entrance, genuflected, placed a
penny into the collection box and lit a candle.

At times he became almost tearful and yet this historic building gave him
sanctuary for he was christened here and attended church services since he
could walk. This building had a homely feel to it and his hands have played
their fine harmonium organ since leaving primary school and after offering
prayers he sat at the organ, opened the keyboard cover, operated the air
pump with his foot whilst trying a few keys to gauge their tunes and then
started playing. `My grandfather's clock' written by Henry Clay Work of
Middletown, Massachusetts, USA in 1876 and is often sung at Boy Scout camp
fires for Donald was in their scout troop and he was about to be welcomed
back in open arms.

The priest entered the church and sat in a pew listening to this
beautifully played tune's notes reverberating acoustically throughout the
building whilst his hand moved as though he was conducting an orchestra
when he turned his head seeing the priest sat there without stopping the
tune and when he finished he walked smartly to the priest and they fell
into powerful hugs with tearful kisses when he began crying loudly.



Father Doyle, an Irish catholic priest knew that Donald's very heart and
soul was hurting like blazes adding to which he knew the boy's body had
been forcibly violated and yet he was still pure in the eyes of god for
which his perpetrators are not and his partner would be a person who loves
him enough to understand.

Whilst comforting the boy, he spoke of the impending scout camp, now only a
week away for which his places in the choir, despite his already broken
voice and in the troop and at camp are now assured and there was only the
one troop meeting left before they went.

As Donald calmed down Father Doyle decided to give him a blessing to
remember for he would personally bless him in front of the altar both with
a host and a serving of altar wine from the chalice whilst anointing his
eyes, nose, ears and mouth saying.

"The body of Christ" with the host and "The blood of Christ" with the wine
finishing by spraying him with holy water flicked from his brush.

Donald rose up a changed boy with uplifted spirits ready for the next day's
challenges in the courtroom.



Kenny's mum served us a nightcap of oxtail soup then kissed us all
goodnight leaving me to bed down in their settee bed in the living room
whilst Donald and Kenny shared the double bed. I knew full well that a
violated boy in Donald's situation would only give himself willingly to
another with enough love to understand. Both boys had sat next to each
other in class since their first day at school, they were the best of
friends together and so it should only be him who he has sex with and
during the night they became passionate lovers in bed together as the night
passed by and their sleep was only for fleeting moments when the Canadian
made Westclox repeater alarm clock brought them out of their slumber.

Kenny's mum already had our bowls of porridge with mixed dried fruits and
two single boiled eggs ready which we downed in fleeting moments with
glasses of lemon squash dressed in our freshly washed tee shirts and shorts
and rode to Danny Master's farm. It was that morning we witnessed another
miracle when Buster, their four year old Holstein Friesian bull started
lowing and crying from the moment he caught sight of Donald for he was the
first person his eyes saw when he dropped from his mother's womb who patted
and stroked him whilst his mother cleaned him off.

Everyone pulled their weight that morning to get the milking done which
this morning was being observed by officials from the Victorian dairy board
who were conducting their annual inspection which for Danny, a favourable
report meant the delivery of their long awaited milking machines.

The whole process resembled some form of time and motion studies I became
familiar with in later life as notes were taken and it was Buster who was
truly glad to see his old friend again as Donald gave him his bucket of
feed with freshly drawn water when Danny released the bull pen's latch and
watched him lead Donald proudly on a walk around the property in what's
known as beating the bounds whereby, as a proud father, he was now showing
him his family. There was no doubting that a very strong bond existed
between the boy and this immensely powerful animal which could kill a
person in a heartbeat and yet he had a lovely temperament.



Cattle farming in Australia has become a primary industry, whether for
dairy or beef resulting in a huge problem which has yet to be solved. Each
cow pat produced simply lies on the ground without any form of insect life
to consume the pat which doesn't decay either. The only solution is to
gather up the pats and dry them out for use as fuel which is an ongoing
never ending task with the only saving graces are the construction of
Imbert gas generators in metal fabrication workshops around the country for
use in petrol fuelled vehicles owing to impending petrol shortages and
there are still steam powered vehicles on the road as well as steam powered
agricultural machinery fuelled by compressed bricks produced by the local
farms which also provide fuel for heating and cooking and Danny's farm,
like all the rest have teams of farm hands just for this one task alone.



The court convened later that morning which became more of a court of
enquiry into Donald's situation. Mr. Rushington gave an excellent rendition
of Donald's character together with Father Doyle from St Joseph's church
leaving us in no doubt that the prison official would be returning empty
handed that day. The magistrate was more interested in him being looked
after by a local family and tasked the local council to send a social
worker to compile a report effectively adjourning those proceedings to a
later date; it came out in court that his reason for escaping was an
attempt to reach his sick mother who passed away before he could reach her
when I certainly noticed the magistrate's eyes were beginning to moisten
when he called for a recess.

After the recess the magistrate returned to his seat and delivered his
verdict saying.

"Master Donald Kilby. The finding of this court is that you escaped legal
custody with honourable intentions in an attempt to reach your gravely ill
mother, sadly for you she passed away before you could reach her. It is my
understanding that to serve your remaining week would serve no useful
purpose and therefore I discharge you into the care of the local community.

I have also read Mr. Rushington's letter stating the circumstances of your
incarceration in respect of Mr. Masters finding you with a gold object in
your possession which turned out to be not gold, but iron pyrites which has
resulted in a miscarriage of justice. Sadly this court will reconvene at a
later date to enquire into this matter. Mr. Masters, I will expect you to
have this item tested and a report compiled together with your account of
those events.

Master Donald. Your time spent incarcerated unfortunately cannot be
reclaimed, what's done is done and I trust these proceedings will clear
your name, you will be notified when this court will reconvene on this
matter."

"Thank you your worship."

I sat in the public gallery watching the proceedings and felt happy that
Donald had won a victory this day but now our celebration would have to
wait as we had a train to meet.

It took us a few minutes to ride straight to the station to find Dylan
waiting outside with his heavily laden bike and we took turns falling into
a lover's embrace kissing, caressing and grinding our rock hard cocks into
each other before introducing him to Donald who took the last turn
embracing Dylan giving each other tongue kisses and grinding their rock
hard cocks into each other and with a few boys grinding into Dylan, it
brought off his shattering orgasm as he flooded his silk swim briefs with a
mother load of spunk forming a huge wet patch on the front of his Edward
Fletcher (Stubbies) shorts which ran down his thigh in a long white trickle
giving each of us enough to coat a finger and lick it clean as well as
giving Donald a taste of his sweet tasting teen boy spunk when he whispered
into his ear.

"You can have a taste of mine later."



We rode to Kenny's house to celebrate and thankfully Kenny's mum cooked up
a lovely Lancashire hotpot stew on their wood fuelled British army Soyer
stove out in the back garden. This is a solid fuel stove burning mainly
wood stood on its tripod legs with a chimney containing a large removable
bowl usually used for heating water or cooking stews which is a relic from
the Crimean war, invented by French chef Alexis Soyer which is kept in
their shed and brought out whenever she has a large number of people to
feed as well as using it as a backup water heater when their family want
hot baths in quick succession although all the boys detested the chore of
cleaning the bowl afterwards.

The meal was watered down with large glasses of freshly made lemon squash
which we all loved as well as her home made ginger beer and cloudy lemonade
leaving everyone well sated for the afternoon.

I rode with Dylan to meet his family and boy did he get a welcome. Danny
spotted the family resemblance straight away and I must admit he bore a
very close resemblance to their son, so much so that they looked like
twins.

Pete spent the rest of the afternoon giving Dylan the grand tour of the
property and it became quickly apparent that he liked animals which were a
good start as he would very soon be working with them when he finally led
him to Buster's pen.

It looked for all the world that the huge bull was seeing double and both
boys must have had identical scents. Dylan fed him a few large handfuls of
fresh grass and gave him his bucket of freshly drawn water when he
immediately saw that the animal was contented and began stroking it
whispering sweet nothings.



That night I shared the double bed with Donald and set the Canadian
Westclox alarm clock for an early start, we made small talk in whispers
when he made his move and grasped my already rock hard throbbing leaking
cock. I grasped Donald's cock which was rock hard, as fat as my nine inches
but shorter at about seven and a half inches and leaking like a tap. I felt
those lovely feelings inside my breasts which were already leaking then
guided Donald's mouth onto a nipple, he took a cautious suck at first until
he got the taste when his eyes lit up like beacons as he began sucking out
my heavily hormone laced life sustaining elixir triggering his cock to
shoot out a volley of spunk like a fountain having just pulled back the bed
covers in time.

After he drained both breasts, I sucked out any remaining spunk from his
cock and he surprised me by reaching into his bag for a bottle of lube,
lubing up my cock and his rear hole then straddling across me facing my
head whilst I guided my huge cock inside his rear hole as he gently lowered
himself uttering sighs of pleasure at his unbelievable sensations of
fullness whilst taking his largest cock to date and he rode me with a
pleasing motion making the bed rock and my breasts jiggle with the motions
with lovely sensations inside as my huge nipples also reached full hardness
like my cock. I quickly deduced that he was really good in bed having
learned his stock in trade at a youth prison. Donald just simply wanted to
please and he was certainly doing that. Whilst rolling my nipples between
thumb and forefinger, I certainly noticed their acute hardness, they also
felt bigger and they were leaking as well.

I felt another mother load of spunk churning in my balls which also tingled
like hell as the first rope of spunk rose up my cock with the attendant
head sensations just before my first jet flies out of my cock with a
powerful jerk like twitch as my huge load flooded into him with long well
spaced out jets making him moan like a bitch, meanwhile I felt my warm milk
on my hands as it squirted out of both rock hard nipples and we were both
moaning like bitches.

Donald laid on top of me as we went into the afterglows of sex with my cock
still inside him when we both fell asleep and I was surprised to wake up
with my cock still inside him when the alarm brought us out of our slumber
on New Year's Eve morning and our last full day at Beechworth.



Once again it was all hands to the pump when we threw towels around our
naked bodies and walked barefoot out into the back garden to be washed down
with hot wet towels with water heated up by the Soyer stove. It may be an
old relic but it doesn't take long in heating of a few gallons of water,
especially with the bottom hatch fully open with the sound of air rushing
through the hatch fuelling the blast like burn, rather like a blast furnace
I've seen pictures of in a science book.

Once washed and dried, Kenny's mum had our breakfasts ready which we
quickly downed with mugs of tea then rode over to Danny Master's farm to
milk his cows, again it was all hands to the pump filling those buckets,
emptying them into milk churns with farm hands and even the driver loading
them onto the truck before the driver finally signs off the quantity
received, having also collected from other nearby farms for processing and
distribution which continues daily whilst those in the cities are still
asleep never even giving it a thought as to how their daily pints arrive at
their door from horse drawn drays and with my insights I decided this as my
subject for my essay to perhaps educate those rich city boys at school.

We left the farm that morning with our thirsts quenched with large glasses
of Mrs. Master's home made ginger beer with ice cubes and fed with
sandwiches made with her home made bread and the farm's mature Cheddar
cheese with Vegemite and the cheese on its own certainly had a real bite,
just like the cheese back in England. We shook hands, gave each other hugs
and said our goodbyes when Danny Masters brought out a huge cheese wrapped
in cheese cloth to take home to Melbourne for which we heartily thanked his
family looking forward to our next visit during half term.



Around noon we met up with Pete with our swimming kit in our haversacks
with packed lunches and rode to Lake Sambell for another swim in the lake
during the heat of the day and boy, were we glad to be in the water away
from all the flies and mosquitoes which really bothered everyone that day,
doubtless brought out by the heat and everyone must have heard the
cacophony of cicadas throughout the previous nights with possums moving
about on the corrugated steel roof.

In many ways I wished for a similar wooden platform to be erected in the
lake just like the one at Elwood in the sea, no doubt such a structure
would be well appreciated by the locals.

It certainly was sheer bliss to swim in the lake which must have drawn out
so many kids from the town, some of who came with either of their parents
packing out the best parts of the lake so sex in the nearby bush was out of
the question.

After swimming and lunches, we rode our bikes through the bush trails
keeping out of the sun and by late afternoon we finally arrived at the
Reid's creek swimming hole with its waterfall. I must have fell in love
with this place at first sight and tales abound of prospectors panning for
gold having found small nuggets here which was in the previous century. We
stripped down to our swimming trunks and both Pete and Donald were first on
the top of the waterfall and dived into the ten foot depth of water quickly
followed by the rest of us, although a small swimming hole, it gave us a
lovely experience with memories to cherish for a lifetime. Donald surprised
us by bringing along his panning dish and he began showing us how to pan
for gold.

It is thanks to the skills he taught me that day that I bought myself a
panning dish on my return to Melbourne and thereafter found enough small
nuggets thereby enabling me to commission a ring which I then sent home to
mother which safely arrived by certified mail despite the war and the
letter she sent back told me that I had indeed sent her a priceless gift.



We all took turns in having a go with Donald's panning dish and between us
we found several tiny specks of gold which we passed onto Donald knowing
any money after it was assayed would be the right thing for him to
have. His letter which arrived a few weeks later told us it had assayed out
at fifteen pounds which he put into his savings account for the proverbial
rainy day.

We returned to Kenny's house to a late evening meal of lamb hotpot which
his mum kept hot for us by regulating the heat from the Soyer stove with
the hatch door almost shut.

Mr. Rushington and the Masters family came round afterwards with some beer
and a huge bag of shrimps in ice ready to see the New Year in. We would
later see the famous newsreel of London burning in the blitz ending with
the words. `It was now 1941.'

During the lead up to the midnight hour, the women were cooking the shrimps
on a half oil drum barbecue thereby enlightening us to a treasured
Australian tradition. Danny Masters had made a rocket fashioned from stout
cardboard tubing using compressed black powder as a propellant which
required a conical space within the charge, topping the charge was a papier
mache washer wad at the bottom of a second chamber within the tube
containing loose black powder and sealed at the top with a glued in papier
mache plug. It was this rocket which had a lovely surprise for all of us.

There was a nice party atmosphere in the back garden on a nice still warm
night under a starlit sky with a waxing crescent moon three nights after
the new moon with not even a wisp of a breeze. I was pleased to learn that
Mr. Rushington had sent the signed original Night walker book by certified
mail to the Melbourne publishers with a deposit cheque and everyone here
would be receiving copies signed by himself and Kenny's father, when the
original book returns, it will be kept in the McAllister household as a
family heirloom which is its rightful place and I felt proud at having
brought this book home from the old country.

A silence fell over the garden on the midnight hour when Danny Masters lit
the length of cannon fuse, we watched it burn like a sparkler whilst
myself, Pete, Dylan and Donald held hands in a line when the flame
disappeared into the rocket and it lifted towards the heavens in a sheet of
flame with a loud hiss accelerating skywards in a perpendicular flight, all
we could see was just a diminishing pinpoint of flame when there was a
brilliant flash in the sky followed by a loud bang about two seconds later
which rattled the roof of the house, Danny had certainly excelled in
producing a good rocket.

The party was now over which for us was our late bedtime although we still
had to be up early the next morning as cows don't take holidays producing
milk for the community and the war effort. Pete left with his father in his
car with Dylan who already had most of his bag packed whereas we'll be
packing ours after breakfast then catching the late morning train.

Once again the night passed with fleeting moments during which I sucked off
both Kenny's and Donald's cocks for a lovely nightcap of teen boy spunk and
rewarded them with my elixir of love from my breasts with my huge cock
shooting off ropes of spunk like a fire hose, thankfully Kenny had a wet
towel ready to clean me off although we all made wet spots on the sheets
with our remaining after leakages.

Kenny's mum had our breakfasts already cooked by the time the alarm went
off, firstly we went to the back garden to be washed down with warm wet
towels and she didn't care one iota about us being naked. We quickly dried
off, donned tee shirts and shorts &c, downed our breakfasts with tea then
rode over to the farm.

Once again we worked like Trojans to complete the milking and load the
waiting truck followed by more tea with Cheddar cheese and Vegemite
sandwiches.



The send off from the station was an unforgettable experience as both Dylan
and I were openly hugging both Pete and Donald and swapping over.  Donald's
eyes suddenly flooded with tears as he started crying loudly and we
promised to return during half term. We waved from open windows as the
train pulled gently out of the station and moments later Dylan and I both
dropped our shorts and silk swim briefs, he lubed up his cock and my rear
hole first, gently pushed his cock fully home and fucked me hard taking a
couple of minutes to fill my bowels with spunk followed by me returning the
service, afterwards we emptied our bowels of spunk into paper bags then
threw them out of the window, pulled up our shorts and silk swim briefs and
lit up our cigarettes which this time are Capstan full strength navy cut
which Danny bought us as a departing gesture.

We both took a huge first drag which gave us the mother of dizzy head
rushes whilst we sat there with our after leakages still leaking into our
silk briefs enjoying the stunning views of the high country leaving us with
lovely memories of Beechworth.

We arrived at Spencer Street some hours later on the express pulled by a
magnificent S class streamlined steam locomotive and compared to the old
rattler from Beechworth which made my breasts bounce with the motion of the
train exciting my huge nipples as they rubbed on my silk vest we traveled
in luxurious comfort.



After the short ride to Flinders Street station, I decided against catching
the tram which entailed dismantling our bikes and we bought single tickets
to Gardenvale station on one of the many suburban red rattler electric
trains. Despite my breasts bouncing and exciting my nipples, the actual
journey time is a lot shorter and having alighted at the station, we
wheeled our bikes down the ramp and rode home to an empty house as both
uncle and auntie were at work although I daresay Horace the huntsman was
glad to see us from his favourite position on the living room wall as we
wheeled our bikes through the house into the extended portion which is the
bathroom, toilet and laundry room.

I went out into the back garden to pick a few juicy lemons off the tree,
cut and squeezed two, took a bottle of lemonade from the fridge and made
two large fizzy lemon squashes with a teaspoon of clear honey. We sat down
to listen to the radio when I saw the note on the kitchen table from the
Brighton sea water swimming pool wanting both of us in the following
day. `No peace for the wicked,' I thought,' amongst our letters on the
table waiting for us was a hand delivered package from Olga, I opened it
revealing a pair of navy blue cotton tie cord school shorts in my size
which she had tailored high leg low rise, I tried them on and they were
very tiny indeed, the leg hems were level with my package and the waist was
on my hips exposing both the waist and leg hems of my square cut silk swim
suits, wearing those was very erotic indeed, especially if I wore my red
square cut swimsuit underneath.

I got up taking both lemon squashes on a tray covered with a glass cloth
out to the back garden followed by Dylan, placed the tray on the wooden
table and lit up two Capstan full strength navy cut cigarettes passing one
to Dylan, after taking two deep inhalations the dizzying head rush hit us
both and we sat down slowly finishing our cigarettes and lemon squashes
then retired back to the living room, sat on the settee and fell asleep
tired from the day's traveling only to be woken up for our evening meals
after which we had an early night in bed together with our last thoughts of
the following day working at the pool followed by packing our kit ready for
the impending school's cadet force camp meeting at the school the following
morning. I had to stop taking those damn pills hoping to stop my milk
supply in time otherwise I am likely to experience breast milk leakages
whilst at camp with the cadets.



We had an entire day working at the sea water pool and it was packed right
out, so much so that extra lifeguards were drafted in from the local
lifesaving club who stood out from a mile away as they all wore sheer black
silk vests which showed off their nipples to good effect.

Nobody was taking any chances with anyone in the water, everyone worked
shortened duties on poolside and it became a whoever saw it first blew a
whistle, dived in and either effected a rescue or determined if that person
was OK, it was literally dive in and ask questions later.

By the day's end, everyone must have gone in at least a dozen times and
spent the greater part of their shifts in wet tee shirts and shorts, as it
turned out there were very few who actually needed rescuing and I had
rescued a small boy beating his father to him, having rescued the little
mite, all I had to do was pass him onto his dad.

Thankfully the hot weather soon dried us off and thanks to the boss
ordering in a huge tub of sun cream and sunglasses not one of us became sun
burnt or suffered with their eyes, when Dylan and I finally left for home
that day, we were highly relieved it was all over with the likelihood of no
more to come judging by the rumours circulating that the government were
about to close the beaches just like they did in England, doubtless fuelled
by the erection of barbed wire at some beaches and patrolled either by the
Australian army or local militias.



Friday morning Dylan and I met the rest of the cadets in the school
playground wearing our uniforms with the rest of our kit and webbing packed
away in kitbags. One by one we were checked onto the coach with our kitbags
and the coach left on its long drive to its destination high in the
mountains of North Eastern Victoria.



To be continued.