The creek had been dammed, detoured and drained so that repair work could be undertaken on the old wooden bridge. It dated back over sixty years and had seen better days. Once the water had receded and the muddy bottom exposed it showed the devastation of the watercourse and the tragic habits of its human neighbours. It was littered with the rubbish of society: bicycles, washing machines, shopping trolleys, tin cans, car tyres and a myriad collection of an uncaring and disposable society.
A throng of council workers set about removing the car bodies, plastic bags, street signs and other discarded material from the gooey, black mud. This was an arduous task as the mud sucked off their boots and sapped their strength. The mosquitoes streamed in, like flights of dive bombers, converging on unprotected skin to suck eagerly from the perspiring mob of workers and volunteers. It was going to be a tough few days as the river was bought back to a pristine state to await the return of the clean water. All the while, workers laboured tirelessly on the repairs to the bridge and its footings.
At ten, in the morning, of the third day all effort suddenly stopped and the army of workers was pulled back from the front. Something had been discovered near the centre of the bridge. It lay within throwing distance of the main span. The morning sun glinted of the metal object.
It looked out of place.
It was out of place.
An aluminium suitcase, as used by photographers, lay open with its contents sending fear into the locals. Police were called in and the area cordoned off. Messages were broadcast on local radio stations warning residences of the imminent danger.
The innocuous, glinting, silver case was in fact a bomb.
Strands of electrical wire and a timer could be seen beneath the debris that still hid part of the case. It had lain hidden under a large tree branch and was only noticed as the cleanup crew grew closer the bridge itself. Organic material was the last material to be removed from the water course.
It was time to call in the experts and this case it was the Royal Australian Navy, as the local police did not have a Bomb Disposal Squad and the Army crew were at least six hours away.
The Navy Ordnance crew were called out with sketchy detail. They were told that a bomb had been located beneath the old bridge, on the north side of town. The Navy pair was not worried as they had been on countless call outs for ‘Bombs’ and they usually turned out to be a false alarm or a routine pick up and disposal of a spent aircraft flare that had washed up on a local beach. They checked their equipment and cruised off in their Land Rover and specialist trailer. They secretly wished that they had the same privileges as Police with a bank of flashing lights and sirens but alas they had neither.
Arriving at site, they were escorted by Police to the edge of the creek where large planks of wood had been laid over the mud, making a pathway that led to the suspect item. They could see it but not fully identify it so they walked to the centre of the bridge and looked down at the object laying a mere thirty odd feet from the span. They assessed the scene.
The case was aluminium,
It was open,
Coils and strands of different coloured electrical wires,
Several clear glass jars containing clear liquid,
An analogue timing device of some sort,
A device with a handle,
Several small unidentifiable tools – possibly jewellers screwdrivers, and
A ball of material that looked to be Plastique explosive embedded with several wires that led away below it….
Shit!! They both thought as they looked at each other. This is the real deal. This is a bomb!
They walked back to the command point, operated by the police, and soon found out that they had also discovered several rifles buried in the mud next to the case, when they were laying the walking boards over the mud. These rifles had been removed for forensic testing.
The group discussed their options and it was decided that they needed a closer look at the ‘Bomb’ as it had obviously been underwater but could not have been there for very long. The Navy needed to assess it before calling for a larger cordon and backup. “Could they move it or blow it in place? What would a controlled detonation do to the immediate area? What det gear would they need?” All of these thoughts, among others, ran through their collective brains.
This is when it got personal. The senior Navy guy turned to his subordinate and said.
“You will have to crawl out on the boards and investigate the suspect IED. Write down what you see and report back here to the command centre”
“What are you going to do?” asked the young sailor
“I’m waiting here of course. No use all of us getting blown to bits” replied the Petty Officer with a smile, showing bravado in front of the constabulary. “You’ll be right son. Just do your job” he said sotto voce as he helped him on with his webbing gear.
The young man settled to the task and walked the lonely track back to the river bank. He lowered himself down onto the planks and started to crawl toward the bomb. He had to crawl to spread his weight more evenly over the surface as the mud was still very deep and clingy. So there he was… slowly, crawling to the unknown. He was scared. He was sweating. He was shaking. “This is a fucking bomb” he thought, over and over again.
He eventually came alongside the shiny, silver, homemade parcel of destruction and held his breath. He adjusted his webbing and pulled out and extendable mirror much like those used by Dentists, only longer. He placed a small red flag next to the case and then proceeded to look at each item within the case without touching anything. Sweat dripped off his brow and ran down his nose before splashing against the oozing mud. He could see that the wires were corroded and only the plastic outer coating remained, giving a long distance impression of usefulness. The timer device was in fact a Wee Megger, a device used to test resistance, and could be used to test an IEDs wiring. It had long ago ceased operation as water entered its workings. The jeweller’s screwdrivers proved to be a set of small electrical drivers and accompanying crimping tools. The Plastique turned out to be plain old putty and the clear jars held nothing but water. The jumbled mess, thrown together beneath the water had settled and congealed into a mass that really did resemble a bomb until dissected from close range with a practised and knowledgeable eye. This was in fact an electrician’s tool case and someone had thrown it over the railing. It was another false alarm.
Case closed (sorry about the pun)
The Police could investigate the firearms and the case. The Navy was finished so they packed up their trailer and headed back to base.
As they returned to base, the Petty Officer turned to the young man beside him and asked “Were you scared?”
The Sailor sat in silence, for a few seconds, then slowly turned toward his boss “I have never been so scared in my life” he declared “I crawled, on hands and knees, to within a few inches of the bloody thing. Not knowing what was going to happen. I had no bomb suit and no body armour” he stammered as the realisation of what may have happened sunk in. His boss patted him on the shoulder and said simply “Good job, mate. It was real until it was proved otherwise. It was your job to decide that fact. The fear is a good thing. It will keep you alive in this trade.” He trailed off but then apologised further “One day they may give us the protective gear but until that day we keep doing what we do best. Remember, that we just earned $23 each in danger money” whereupon they both started laughing until tears streaked their faces and their cheeks hurt.
That was a long time ago but still vivid in my memory. The fear was as real as if the bomb had have been real. People later related that they thought I had over reacted but those in my explosive demolition squad knew otherwise.
Peace time in the Military is not always Peaceful.
