VIN & EDNA BALDOCK
Written by Edna Baldock
The most important man in the camp was the night man. He was the only one we missed when he went on holidays. His name was Yacca Jack, and for most of the time, he wore one sandshoe and one rubber boot. He carried his goods on an old army blitz truck. Unfortunately, if he happened to open the back flap of the loo and discover that someone was in residence, instead of going on his way, he would stand outside with his hat on his chest and apologise as that person emerged. Visitors from the big smoke found this most embarrassing.
We had a rec hall where we occasionally held functions, but there was very little talent to entertain us, so we had to make our own fun. I remember one social were four men (including my husband) decided to give an item singing “Doggy in the window”. It was decided that the wives of these men would make paper skirts for the men and their bras would consist of saucepan lids joined together with elastic, and they would wear rubber boots. We would also help the men dress and do their make-up. We were all in the kitchen which was the dressing room, when one of the men, who had quite a bit of Dutch courage, dropped his trousers in order to put on his skirt, only to discover that he had forgotten to put on his underpants. After that he had the nickname “Tripod”.
Occasionally we would have a picture show. We had to take our own chairs, so you would see the picture goers heading towards the recreation hut carrying their kitchen chairs. The children usually sat on low stools at the front, and of course, they got restless during love scenes and other boring parts and had to be quietened. I remember on one occasion, a very passionate love scene was being enacted, and the man was saying “Marry me, marry me, marry me” and a voice from the back said “At the rate you are going mate, you will bloody have to”.