Parallel Me

Parallel Me Part 27

The ship docked in Freemantle at six am, those emigrating were all queuing to enter the customs hall by eight. I had said goodbye to Mr and Mrs Keats, and Anna the night before. They would be departing the ship, from the forward first-class gangplank, where a reception party was waiting for them, and I could see the proceeding from where we were.

"Aren't we getting the welcome mat rolled out for us Joe, just like they are at that end of the ship?" Gary said as we moved down the line towards the customs hall another eight feet. At this pace, we will be in the building, on the next shunt in about ten minutes time. We were looking at the pomp and ceremony, going on at the other gangplank, when an Australian Army sergeant standing by the rope barrier spoken to me.

"Excuse me sir but don't I know you from somewhere?" he asked looking down at my kitbag then back at me, trying to work out where he had seen me before. I could guess but didn't want to get into that conversation, not with Gary and others close by.

"Sorry my friend, I can't say I remember seeing you anywhere," I said picking up my gear, as the queue in front of us moved into the building. Inside I was directed to one of the two rows of five tables, where a customs officer looked at me.

"Papers please?" The customs man asked, as I stopped at his table and put my case on it. He was scanning my papers and looked back up at me, to see if I was the one in the photo; he was looking at.

"Yes Sir, is there something I can help you with sir?" He asked looking past me, I looked myself and saw a high ranking Australian army officer, smiling at me.

"It's this gentleman I wish to speak with officer, my sergeant was right, you are the combined forces boxing champion, Petty Officer J, J, Lacey. My wife caught one of your gloves, the night you won the title in the WACA."

"God I was there too, sorry didn't recognise you, welcome to Australia Mr Lacey." The customs officer said handing me my papers and pointing to a door along the back wall.

"You will find your bus out there, it has Graylands on it," he said holding out his hand to shake mine, as the sergeant picked up my kitbag.

"It's plain Mr now I'm out," I said to the Lieutenant-General, without adding the sir, as we walked towards the door. The officer wrote something on the back of a business card, and he handed it to me saying.

"I'm John McKenna and I wish I had more time, but we have to be at a welcoming function. When you get settled, please give me a call so we can meet, I really do have to go, please call that number." He said as we got to the door, and the sergeant put my kitbag down and they hurried away. Gary came out not long after me, but as his sister would be picking him up, he wouldn't be going with me on the bus. We said goodbye to each other as he handed me a piece of paper.

"That's my sister's phone if you don't get a job give me a ring, my brother-in-law might help, you did say you were good with engines." He said picking up his things and walking to a gate, where his sister was waving at him, from the other side of the fence.

Graylands immigration camp was an ex-Army camp, given over to housing incoming migrants. They stayed there until they could move on to their own houses, whether through buying or renting. They could stay in the camp for two years before they had to move off. As a single, I had to shear, with nine others in a ten-man cabin. I had been used to this for the last seven years and knew a man's perennial space was important to him. It was almost midday when the bus arrived, and I was directed to my billet, a wooden building built, to house a squad of twenty soldiers. Most had been divided into two, to make two one-bedroom accommodation. A few like the one I had just entered, had beds for only ten men. It was a Thursday midmorning, and there was no one in the billet.