Kidman's Aeroplane

The area was North West of Jackson oil field in SW Queensland. I had met Bill, an expert in light aircraft recovery, in the Nocundra Pub and had signed on as assistant for the project.

We arrived at a stock camp near our destination airstrip just as the ringers were knocking off after a day of mustering cattle for transport.

They pointed us in the direction of the airstrip and the damaged aeroplane then graciously asked us to stay for “tea”. I took one look at their camp in the concrete and tin shed. Their swags crowded over a floor which still showed signs of dingo hair from a long dead visitor.

Bill and I said we had better camp out to make an early start in the morning.

Even allowing for a night spent in Lake Eyre South I have never camped in a more desolate place.

There was not one bush in an area of the estimated 2000 acres we could see, let alone a living tree. The damaged plane was a lonely silhouette in the evening light.

That night the dingoes set up a chorus from the four points of the compass calling to each other over a distance of more than 5 miles. Then for some reason a feral pig decided to visit our camp. I was posted outside the tent for “security”.

I decided if I had to sit up on guard duty, I would have a quiet drink of the emergency Brandy ration and write some letters. At first light I was lying under the plane belting pins out of the undercarriage, each hit of the sledge hammer keeping time with the hammers inside my head.

We drained the wing tanks to replenish our petrol supplies and by dark the plane was dismantled and packed on Bill’s trailer.

We called in to see Dangerous Dan on the way through Nocundra, then started the long trip down to Broken Hill through the mud, the water and dodging road building machinery.

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