LONELY TROOPER

Greymouth Evening Star, 6 March 1943, Page 6

LONELY TROOPER

AUSTRALIAN OUTBACK.

On the banks of a jungle-fringed river in Northern Australia, more than 100 miles from civilisation, is one of the loneliest police stations in the world. It is the headquarters of Trooper Tom Turner, whose territory covers 12,000 miles of almost uninhabited country, and who, in his 32 years’ service in the Northern Territory police force, has had enough adventures to fill a dozen novels.

Born in Victoria, Turner went to Adelaide as a youth and joined the South Australian police force in 1904, being transferred to the Northern territory in 1910. He is now a jack-of-all-trades. Since he first arrived in the Territory he has done practically every possible job, from acting as mid-wife to settling aboriginal tribal wars. He knows every inch of the country, having patrolled some parts of it hundreds of times. He is a ranger, protector of aborigines, registrar of mines, vehicles, and dogs. He has an extensive knowledge of native dialects and is a pastmaster of pidgin English. He has even acted as interpreter between members of different tribes, and very often “boongs” come to him for advice or medical attention or to ask him to adjudicate in a tribal dispute. When his services were sought by a black whose leg had been badly crushed, Unstable Turner found that the only way of saving the man’s life was to amputate his leg. Mrs. Turner gave the anaesthetic and the constable performed the operation with a tomahawk. The black’s life was saved.

Once when a tribal war broke out among 400 aborigines and several were killed, he was faced with the almost impossible task of finding the guilty blacks, arresting them, and preparing the Crown case. The preliminary trial was held in the jungle, in the presence of dozens of “boongs,” irresponsible as puppies and all finding endless amusement in the intricacies of court procedure. In 1932, when the depression sent hundreds of men northwards seeking work, Constable Turner was stationed at Pine Creek when trouble broke out among the unemployed. A bomb was thrown into Turner’s house, almost completely wrecking it, and Turner received severe face injuries and nearly lost the sight of one eye.

Routine patrols around his territory which covers some especially wild country, are always fraught 1. with adventure, but such incidents as having to swim a flood-swollen, crocodile-infested river, or perhaps shoot a couple of crocodiles are dismissed as mere trifles. CROCODILES AT GATE.

Mrs. Turner lives with her husband at the police station, a comfortable house built on tall piles, and overlooking the fast-flowing river. She says she is never lonely, having too much work in the house and garden to worry about being alone. She seldom sees another white woman and, when her husband is out on patrol spends weeks alone. During the wet season, when roads are impassable, the only contact with the outside is by pedal wireless. Mrs. Turner, who was a nurse < in the last war, spends any spare time she has, making hooked rugs, surprisingly beautiful craft works that lake as long as two or three years to complete. She collects silk stockings, and when she has enough for a rug, dyes them and tears them into fine strips. Thousands of the silk strips are necessary for a rug, the six-inch border around one taking 11 dozen pairs of stockings. Cheerful and intrepid, Mrs. Turner speaks casually of her life of adventure, describing crocodiles walking past the front gate, as though they were a clutch of newly-hatched chickens. She has many housekeeping problems. Fresh meat, apart from an occasional goat, is a rarity. All vegetables have to be grown in the kitchen garden, and stores usually have to be ordered six or twelve months in advance.

War has brought few changes in the life of the Turners. “Boongs” still wander round the bush, stopping at the station to ask for flour or tea, and going off again on their “walkabout.” Sometimes a miner or a man from a cattle station calls in and nowadays groups of soldiers make frequent visits. All are assured of a welcome and the kindly.hospitality of the outback. Constable Turner is due to retire in 18 months. Both he and Mrs. Turner agree that they will not remain in the Territory, and plan to settle in Adelaide. “I’d like to come back for a holiday, though,” he adds. “This should be a wonderful place after the war.” —War Correspondent Axel Olsen in the “Adelaide Advertiser.”