Bancroft and I were pretty much drifting off to sleep in our PJs, when we were woken by my big brother David. This was night one of a 10 day Church Youth camp that we were attending at the Gold Coast, along with my sister Helen. The girls were housed in the little cottages scattered around the campus but most of the boys were grouped appropriately in a huge circus marquee. Well, David had a plan. See, a group of Mediterranean looking guys had come up by train from Melbourne and were housed separately in the disused cafeteria building. They were certainly not considered to be part of the big top boys. David plan was to give them a special water bomb welcome. David was convinced that they were here to steal our thunder and he felt they needed to be taught a lesson on who was boss of this campus. Now, I was just a little concerned at our target they were certainly broad built enough to ensure a direct hit, but they also appeared to be nasty enough to not take this welcome without at least some right of reply. Most of them looked to be at least 5 foot across some with a height to match. Well the desire to belong and be involved overcame these very rational fears and so a group of us were soon heading for the front serving bench of that darkened cafeteria – water bombs were primed. Now the language I heard that night, after the delivery of our message, sounded more like loud angry curses that Theatrical Classical Greek. We did not understand the language but there was no mistaking the tone – it was obviously time to bolt, and bolt we did – Each frightened boy was allocated one point of the compass in which to run. I ran with mind a whirl wondering where I could find a safe haven from this angry vigilante mob. I was running out of breath as I passed through the girl’s dorms and quickly decided that under the bed of sister Helen could provide such a safe haven and that’s where I stayed as we heard the mob pass, being followed in hot pursuit by camp leaders desperate to quite things down. Some hours passed and the group members started believing it to be safe to return to the Big Top sleeping quarters. I was the first one of our group back but I was soon followed by David, who explained that he had lain in the long grass under the trampoline mats and had managed to remain there undetected. A fair while after that Bancroft returned with PJ soaking wet and clinging to his shivering body. What happened? I asked. Did they get you back? No, don’t be silly was his reply. I have been standing in the dark up to my neck way out in Talibudgera Creek, waiting for the lynch mob that chassed me there to finally give up – Typical #$@%& Bancroft!
