Bidadisndat
Contributing Member
A short but true story… well, mostly true though I must admit to adding a few bits to make it more entertaining, and of course names have been changed to protect the innocent.
The day had dawned bright and the sky was a deep autumn blue, as it had been for each day of the preceding two weeks, and it appeared that the good weather was set to continue for some time to come, at least in the local area if the forecast was anything to go by. Not that he was cynical by nature, but Brad Cooper was of the opinion that weather forecasters, used-car salesmen, fortune tellers and politicians were all graduates of the same school, and he felt that little faith should be placed in anything that any of them promised.
However, on a personal note he believed he was reasonably well prepared if there was any unexpected change, and as he drove to work listened to the latest news that confirmed that the government was still in the supposedly capable hands of the self-servers who’d been voted into office by a slender but gullible majority. And also that a looming recession was predicted to be nowhere near as bad as many feared it would be, that World War Three hadn’t begun while he was out feeding the chickens that morning, and that the good weather would continue.
A long gap in oncoming traffic allowed him to swing across the road into the Air Force base where he served as an aircraft refueller and he gave an inward groan when he saw that one of the guards manning the gate was waving him into an inspection bay for a random security check. The checks were a PITA, and to his mind pretty much ineffective due to the casual way in which a vehicle’s contents were fleetingly looked over by the civilian security personnel contracted by the Department of Defence, however higher pay grades than his had deemed that they were necessary due to the threat of terrorism.
By chance, it was a neighbour and friend of his who worked for the security company that was doing the check of his car that morning, and the inspection was even more casual than it might have - could have - should have been.
“You won’t find anything, Chris,” he told the guard as he handed over his I.D. card to have its number along with his name recorded on the inspection sheet. “Our Senior Sergeant told the section last week that these searches were going to be happening so I moved all my weapons and ammo from the trunk into my locker. Gotta admit the RPG launcher was a tight fit though.”
“Oh ha, ha, ha,” Chris replied. “I wouldn’t joke like that when the base’s own uniformed people are doing the checks, which I’ll tell you now are going to be done randomly over the next few months. A few of those SECPOL guys would probably enjoy ripping your locker and your car apart and maybe send a few of their guys to go through your home too.”
“I hear you, Mate. They wouldn’t find much there if they did though: Even if they could access my gun-safe all my weapons are legal and registered, and the amount of preps we have on hand is only what a prudent family should have... at least in my opinion.
“Fully agree with you. Anyway, I won’t hold you up any longer, though knowing you, you’re probably early anyway.”
“Always here early enough to have a coffee before the rush starts, though I’ll most likely miss the bacon and egg roll this morning.”
“You guys have those every morning?”
“We early ones do… unless we get held up by these bloody useless security checks when we arrive.”
“Get outta here,” laughed Chris as he returned Brad’s I.D. card and waved him out of the inspection bay.
He was lucky to find when arriving at his section building that there was still a bacon and egg roll to be had, though it needed 30 seconds in the microwave to reheat it, but he’d barely managed to finish that and a mug of coffee before being sent out on the line.
A heavy flying program had been written up on the board adjacent to the dispatcher’s desk and after emptying the truck he was driving took a second one out to complete the refuelling of the eight F/A18 Hornets he’d been assigned to. It was a rule that no more than two hours could be worked before a fifteen minute break was taken however it was close to three and a half hours when he returned to the section building, having taken on the task of uplifting the truck he’d just emptied. Not that he’d ever think of complaining as he loved the job and, unlike many of the younger bloods he worked with, believed that time worked over the two hour limit was simply part and parcel of the job for which he was paid.
Sitting in one of the easy-chairs in the crew-room with a large mug of coffee his eye caught the image of a weather map that was being shown on the large flat-screen TV mounted on one wall. The sound had been turned right down but the display was enough to make him locate the remote control and turn it up so that they could all hear what the reporter had to say. Apparently a Low Pressure System had formed off the coast and was rapidly intensifying and giving all the signs that it was very likely that a cyclone would hit them sometime during the next twenty four hours. Such events were hardly a rare occurrence, particularly around this time of year, but this time the barometer had fallen lower and faster than had been seen for several years, and viewers were now being advised to take all precautions they thought might be necessary to “weather the storm.”
That was a rather feeble attempt at humour on the reporter’s part as far as Brad was concerned and though she did say that people should try and get at least three days of supplies in order to do so, how viewers would be able to achieve this before the storm arrived was apparently not thought of.
For his own part it wouldn’t be a problem as he and his wife had at least six month’s worth of preps squirreled away at their house, which was just as well because as soon as the ‘A’ Shift finished at 1500 hrs the local supermarkets would be flooded by base personnel who had seen or heard of the report. And as many guys around him were now phoning their wives or partners and asking them to go shopping ASAP he thought by the time he left work most shelves would already be close to bare if not completely stripped, and he decided that rather than join a melee it would be better to simply go and top up his vehicle’s fuel tank and fill the only two empty jerry cans of the twenty he had.
The amount of preps they had on hand would be way more than would be needed to tide them through this event, however he and his wife Kelly had a couple of elderly and infirm neighbours who they’d decided might need help in an emergency, and had made up a list of items that could be quickly packed into totes and distributed to them if the need arose.
By the time Kelly arrived home from working the late shift at the hospital forty kilometres away in Maitland it had already begun to rain and she said that the wind had been strong enough to give her car a good buffeting on the way. She’d had the good sense to top up her car’s fuel tank and had purchased three two-litre jugs of milk which she placed in the ‘fridge in the preps storage room, but otherwise didn’t appear to be too concerned about the prospect of a really bad storm bearing down upon them.
Whilst not being blasé about the situation they’d had enough experience with the local weather to know that a really heavy rain event would once again mean that the back half of their property would be inundated, though he hoped that his new vegetable garden beds wouldn’t be washed away - as they had been twice before. He’d raised them to a decent height, admittedly mostly to save bending his back when gardening, and had dug a spoon drain around the perimeter of the section where they were located, and with any luck they would survive.
Following phone calls to two of their daughters who lived in apartments in Newcastle both Chris and Kelly were pleased to hear that both had not only followed their parent’s advice to always have at least three week’s worth of supplies on hand but had decided that two month’s worth was even better. They each felt they were in a reasonably good position apart from extra fuel for their cars: Only 30 litres of fuel can be legally stored in a garage or within six metres of a dwelling; however they’d decided that since it wasn’t a well known law they could probably get away with having two twenty litre Jerry cans each. They’d joked that they weren’t nearly as criminal as their parents who had twenty Jerry cans holding a total of four hundred litres on their property, and at least the fuel they did have would get them there.
Although their third daughter still lived at home while she was studying to become a nurse like her mother, she too had her own Jerry cans, and Brad turned a blind eye to the fact that when she rotated her fuel out with his own supply she could be a bit tardy when it came to refilling the empties. Knowing how cash-strapped she was he often refilled them himself but never said anything about it.
Whilst they each had 3-day BOBs and good sleeping bags the girls probably wouldn’t have spent much of the little money they earned on more items, however Brad had made up and given each of them an echelon bag containing a three-person dome tent, an air mattress with a small pump, a small gas cooker with two canisters of fuel each, and a battery powered lantern. Each of the family’s cars also had a small dry powder fire extinguisher and an extensive first-aid kit which Brad explained that even if they didn’t need to use them for themselves it put them in a position to help others if necessary, and to that end he had also made sure they all had undertaken first-aid training.
Along with their echelon bags they each now had a tote that could be quickly loaded into each of their own cars, and on the underside of each tote’s lid was written, with a permanent marker, check-lists of items that were either carried or had to be added. Brad had also insisted that they go with him and their mom on a couple of weekend camp-outs to make sure they were familiar with their gear if they ever needed to bug-out, and this had resulted in the girls working out what was and was not essential to carry. (Actually the girls were quite keen and had lots of fun, and it was Kelly who needed to be persuaded as she was not really an outdoors girl.)
The smile and sigh of relief that Kelly gave on hearing that the girls were all OK meant he no longer had to worry about her being worried about them, and it being almost midnight it seemed a good idea to get some shut-eye and in the morning see what might have happened during the rest of the night.
The Storm of 2015
The day had dawned bright and the sky was a deep autumn blue, as it had been for each day of the preceding two weeks, and it appeared that the good weather was set to continue for some time to come, at least in the local area if the forecast was anything to go by. Not that he was cynical by nature, but Brad Cooper was of the opinion that weather forecasters, used-car salesmen, fortune tellers and politicians were all graduates of the same school, and he felt that little faith should be placed in anything that any of them promised.
However, on a personal note he believed he was reasonably well prepared if there was any unexpected change, and as he drove to work listened to the latest news that confirmed that the government was still in the supposedly capable hands of the self-servers who’d been voted into office by a slender but gullible majority. And also that a looming recession was predicted to be nowhere near as bad as many feared it would be, that World War Three hadn’t begun while he was out feeding the chickens that morning, and that the good weather would continue.
A long gap in oncoming traffic allowed him to swing across the road into the Air Force base where he served as an aircraft refueller and he gave an inward groan when he saw that one of the guards manning the gate was waving him into an inspection bay for a random security check. The checks were a PITA, and to his mind pretty much ineffective due to the casual way in which a vehicle’s contents were fleetingly looked over by the civilian security personnel contracted by the Department of Defence, however higher pay grades than his had deemed that they were necessary due to the threat of terrorism.
By chance, it was a neighbour and friend of his who worked for the security company that was doing the check of his car that morning, and the inspection was even more casual than it might have - could have - should have been.
“You won’t find anything, Chris,” he told the guard as he handed over his I.D. card to have its number along with his name recorded on the inspection sheet. “Our Senior Sergeant told the section last week that these searches were going to be happening so I moved all my weapons and ammo from the trunk into my locker. Gotta admit the RPG launcher was a tight fit though.”
“Oh ha, ha, ha,” Chris replied. “I wouldn’t joke like that when the base’s own uniformed people are doing the checks, which I’ll tell you now are going to be done randomly over the next few months. A few of those SECPOL guys would probably enjoy ripping your locker and your car apart and maybe send a few of their guys to go through your home too.”
“I hear you, Mate. They wouldn’t find much there if they did though: Even if they could access my gun-safe all my weapons are legal and registered, and the amount of preps we have on hand is only what a prudent family should have... at least in my opinion.
“Fully agree with you. Anyway, I won’t hold you up any longer, though knowing you, you’re probably early anyway.”
“Always here early enough to have a coffee before the rush starts, though I’ll most likely miss the bacon and egg roll this morning.”
“You guys have those every morning?”
“We early ones do… unless we get held up by these bloody useless security checks when we arrive.”
“Get outta here,” laughed Chris as he returned Brad’s I.D. card and waved him out of the inspection bay.
He was lucky to find when arriving at his section building that there was still a bacon and egg roll to be had, though it needed 30 seconds in the microwave to reheat it, but he’d barely managed to finish that and a mug of coffee before being sent out on the line.
A heavy flying program had been written up on the board adjacent to the dispatcher’s desk and after emptying the truck he was driving took a second one out to complete the refuelling of the eight F/A18 Hornets he’d been assigned to. It was a rule that no more than two hours could be worked before a fifteen minute break was taken however it was close to three and a half hours when he returned to the section building, having taken on the task of uplifting the truck he’d just emptied. Not that he’d ever think of complaining as he loved the job and, unlike many of the younger bloods he worked with, believed that time worked over the two hour limit was simply part and parcel of the job for which he was paid.
Sitting in one of the easy-chairs in the crew-room with a large mug of coffee his eye caught the image of a weather map that was being shown on the large flat-screen TV mounted on one wall. The sound had been turned right down but the display was enough to make him locate the remote control and turn it up so that they could all hear what the reporter had to say. Apparently a Low Pressure System had formed off the coast and was rapidly intensifying and giving all the signs that it was very likely that a cyclone would hit them sometime during the next twenty four hours. Such events were hardly a rare occurrence, particularly around this time of year, but this time the barometer had fallen lower and faster than had been seen for several years, and viewers were now being advised to take all precautions they thought might be necessary to “weather the storm.”
That was a rather feeble attempt at humour on the reporter’s part as far as Brad was concerned and though she did say that people should try and get at least three days of supplies in order to do so, how viewers would be able to achieve this before the storm arrived was apparently not thought of.
For his own part it wouldn’t be a problem as he and his wife had at least six month’s worth of preps squirreled away at their house, which was just as well because as soon as the ‘A’ Shift finished at 1500 hrs the local supermarkets would be flooded by base personnel who had seen or heard of the report. And as many guys around him were now phoning their wives or partners and asking them to go shopping ASAP he thought by the time he left work most shelves would already be close to bare if not completely stripped, and he decided that rather than join a melee it would be better to simply go and top up his vehicle’s fuel tank and fill the only two empty jerry cans of the twenty he had.
The amount of preps they had on hand would be way more than would be needed to tide them through this event, however he and his wife Kelly had a couple of elderly and infirm neighbours who they’d decided might need help in an emergency, and had made up a list of items that could be quickly packed into totes and distributed to them if the need arose.
By the time Kelly arrived home from working the late shift at the hospital forty kilometres away in Maitland it had already begun to rain and she said that the wind had been strong enough to give her car a good buffeting on the way. She’d had the good sense to top up her car’s fuel tank and had purchased three two-litre jugs of milk which she placed in the ‘fridge in the preps storage room, but otherwise didn’t appear to be too concerned about the prospect of a really bad storm bearing down upon them.
Whilst not being blasé about the situation they’d had enough experience with the local weather to know that a really heavy rain event would once again mean that the back half of their property would be inundated, though he hoped that his new vegetable garden beds wouldn’t be washed away - as they had been twice before. He’d raised them to a decent height, admittedly mostly to save bending his back when gardening, and had dug a spoon drain around the perimeter of the section where they were located, and with any luck they would survive.
Following phone calls to two of their daughters who lived in apartments in Newcastle both Chris and Kelly were pleased to hear that both had not only followed their parent’s advice to always have at least three week’s worth of supplies on hand but had decided that two month’s worth was even better. They each felt they were in a reasonably good position apart from extra fuel for their cars: Only 30 litres of fuel can be legally stored in a garage or within six metres of a dwelling; however they’d decided that since it wasn’t a well known law they could probably get away with having two twenty litre Jerry cans each. They’d joked that they weren’t nearly as criminal as their parents who had twenty Jerry cans holding a total of four hundred litres on their property, and at least the fuel they did have would get them there.
Although their third daughter still lived at home while she was studying to become a nurse like her mother, she too had her own Jerry cans, and Brad turned a blind eye to the fact that when she rotated her fuel out with his own supply she could be a bit tardy when it came to refilling the empties. Knowing how cash-strapped she was he often refilled them himself but never said anything about it.
Whilst they each had 3-day BOBs and good sleeping bags the girls probably wouldn’t have spent much of the little money they earned on more items, however Brad had made up and given each of them an echelon bag containing a three-person dome tent, an air mattress with a small pump, a small gas cooker with two canisters of fuel each, and a battery powered lantern. Each of the family’s cars also had a small dry powder fire extinguisher and an extensive first-aid kit which Brad explained that even if they didn’t need to use them for themselves it put them in a position to help others if necessary, and to that end he had also made sure they all had undertaken first-aid training.
Along with their echelon bags they each now had a tote that could be quickly loaded into each of their own cars, and on the underside of each tote’s lid was written, with a permanent marker, check-lists of items that were either carried or had to be added. Brad had also insisted that they go with him and their mom on a couple of weekend camp-outs to make sure they were familiar with their gear if they ever needed to bug-out, and this had resulted in the girls working out what was and was not essential to carry. (Actually the girls were quite keen and had lots of fun, and it was Kelly who needed to be persuaded as she was not really an outdoors girl.)
The smile and sigh of relief that Kelly gave on hearing that the girls were all OK meant he no longer had to worry about her being worried about them, and it being almost midnight it seemed a good idea to get some shut-eye and in the morning see what might have happened during the rest of the night.
