The Jillaroo. Part 2 Moving on

“But what about what the doctor said?” I asked. She told me that while I was in hospital Anne would give me a full lesson on biology as it relates to males and females which will answer that question for me. I was very unsure of just what she was talking about and just nodded. In fact I just nodded off to sleep again.

Next time I woke it was Anne beside me, changing my drip and checking things beside my bed. “How are you feeling now?” she asked. “Confused and stupid” I replied “I do not know what I am, who I am, or why Albert got so angry. Oh, does anyone know what happened to him?” “The last question is easier to answer as no-one has seen him since he nearly kicked you to death. In fact, I would think that as he took all of your water and food from the saddle bag, he probably thinks he did kill you and is on the run. The two horses were found in Tibooburra yesterday and the police think that he hitched a ride on a cattle truck there.” As she said this she finished what she was doing and gave me a biology book before she left. “This will answer a few of your other questions. Read it and I will answer all your future questions honestly next time I see you.”

Over the next couple of hours I found out that my life, up to now, had been a total sham. I had been a boy the whole time and suddenly felt ashamed for being so stupid. When I had seen animals rutting I had thought that the one underneath was getting penetrated in their bottom, not realising that a female has another hole. I still could not feel any anger at my mother; she had loved me all my life and I was sure she would continue to do so. I kept on reading the textbook and a whole new world of animals opened up for me. Next time my mother came in I held my arms out to hug her and she started crying again. I told her to stop crying as that was something us Howard women didn’t do.

We talked about everything and I found out that my grand-parents were in on the whole thing, even though they thought it stupid. My mother admitted that she had made pills from various herbs with plant estrogen and had been giving them to me since I turned eight. One thing that was a positive was that my birth certificate already had me down as female and that it would not change anything with my schooling when I get back from hospital. We would just say that I had fallen off my horse, a common reason for injuries in our part of the world.

Eventually my bruises faded, my ribs knitted and my surgery healed. I was given training on how to properly look after myself as a woman and left with a little box of plastic items to help my new passage stay open, as well as some pills I needed to take to become more female. I also left with a lot more knowledge of the world and the difference between men and women. On the drive back to the station I looked out of the window with a far greater appreciation for being alive and for the love that my mother had for me. When we arrived at the station I was hugged by my grand-parents and welcomed back by all of the men who were living at the main house. That evening Alberts’ family came around and his father was very apologetic. I told him that he was not to blame for what happened and gave them all a hug to seal the point.

I got back into my school work with a strong desire to exceed and, by the time I reached seventeen, I passed my final exams with enough marks to get me into the Roseworthy Agricultural College near Adelaide. Before I left I made sure that I took a driving test to get my NSW drivers licence. My grand-parents gave me one of the older ex-army Land Rovers that dotted the station and I took it into Broken Hill to have a mechanic go over it. I stayed in the town with my other grand-parents while it was being fixed and became thoroughly sick of fish and chips. Before I went back home I treated them to a lunch at the Musicians Club, so named as a homage to the orchestra that played on while the Titanic sank.

After I loaded the Landie I made sure I hugged and kissed everyone, not knowing that it would be the last time I saw my paternal grand-parents. I did the four hours on dirt roads into Broken Hill to stay overnight. That evening I saw my maternal grand-parents and, in the morning I left to drive towards Adelaide. In a fast car you would do it in five hours but the Landie was anything but fast so it took me most of the day. I had organised lodging in Gawler and was welcomed with a hot meal when I arrived.

The next day I went out to Roseworthy where I completed all of the paperwork, got my study lists and had a look around. I would be specialising in dry-land farming but needed to do all of the basic subjects as well. In the three years I was there I had a test flight in a glider from the local airfield and liked it so much I decided that I wanted to learn to fly. On one of my off days I went down to the Parafield airfield nearer Adelaide where I signed on for lessons there. By the time I graduated from the college I had also received my pilots licence. I was sure that it would be the way of the future for outback stations. I had also spent lots of time in and around the city of Adelaide where there were more people than I had ever seen in my life and improved my wardrobe with a lot of new clothes.

While I was down south both of my fathers’ parents died within days of each other, one from a heart attack and the other from a broken heart. I coerced one of my flying instructors into coming with me to the station for the double funeral. It became part of my final exam with me doing everything and him in the second seat. My mother had sent me details of an airstrip near Tibooburra we could use so we set down there with her picking us up. The old folks were laid to rest in the family plot on the station with several of our neighbours attending. We stayed overnight and flew back south the next day, a lot quicker trip than my first drive down. Before I left I got my mother to enquire about getting a strip graded at the station.

Before I went north again my mother contacted me to tell me that we were now the joint owners of the Kangaranga Station and to trade the old Landie on a new one to bring home. After my graduation I returned home in a new vehicle, with a new wardrobe and a whole new thinking about how the station would improve in the coming years. I was now rapidly approaching twenty-one and several of my School of the Air friends had got themselves married but I had a business to organise. I sat down with my mother and told her of several things that I wanted to put in place to make our life easier and, hopefully, make more money.

In the following year we had the airstrip graded and two hangers erected. The first for the plane I intended to buy and the second for storage of a helicopter that I hoped we could use during the muster. We had another workshop built to house motorcycles as it was harder to get good riders these days. I had kept my ears to the ground with motorcycle enthusiasts in Broken Hill and had discovered that the best way to get some was to go to a military auction and pick up Matchless G3/L’s. A friend called me and told me of an auction coming up in Adelaide and I got him to join me in a trip south. I hired a plane and we flew down to Parafield, hiring a car to go to the inspection. The auction was amazing, not only for the ex-army bikes, but also some war-surplus Harley Davidson WLAs still in boxes and several Ford Blitz three ton trucks.

The next day I bid for, and won, two of the three tonners, two Harleys and four G3/L’s plus a couple of boxes of spares for the trucks and bikes. My friend knew of a couple of guys in the Hill who could drive the trucks so we flew back that afternoon. The agent in Adelaide said he would get temporary registration on the trucks if we organised the drivers so I flew back the next day with my two drivers. The trucks had been loaded with the Harleys and spares in one and the rest in the other. After settling up I gave my drivers enough money to get to the station with an overnight stop and enough for food. I told the drivers to drop off one of the Harleys at their home as a raffle prize to help the local club and then I went back to Parafield to talk to someone about finding the right plane for us and then flew back to the Hill and drove back to the station.

When we got the trucks and bikes back to the station the guys were very excited. Having an ex-army 4x4 with a vee-8 engine meant that we could now take all of our heavier gear out to the remote holding yards during the muster and the guys would have a bit of comfort. We could also take the bikes and guys on a truck so they would start their work from the yards, rather than a forty or fifty mile trek from the station first. I had organised Adam from Broken Hill, who had a Bell helicopter, to fly out behind the cattle and start them moving. It really improved our efficiency from the start.

Marianne G 2020