“I’M OFF TO LIGHT THE CHUFFER, FELLAS” By Chris Nelson, 8/9 RAR
We were on exercises once at a place called Allies Creek, not too far from Chinchilla. Alan Norcott, Phil Moody and I were based in a tent at the one-teacher school of the timber settlement. The town had about 15 houses in one street and then a saw mill. Anyway, one morning whilst it was still dark, Phil got up and said, “I’m off to light the chuffer, fellas, so we can have breakfast before we joined the battalion.” Alan and I agreed and rolled over in our sleeping bags, happy in the knowledge that Phil was doing the morning’s work. After a few minutes we thought we were under mortar fire because we heard the wumph and echo. Alan and I got up to see what was going on, to be confronted by Phil who was staggering back from the direction of the 11+11 tent that served as the cook house. He was black as soot from the mid-chest upwards. His bleach-blond hair was frizzed and singed brown, as were his eyebrows. He actually looked like a panda. He said, “Oh fuck, the chuffer blew up in me face.” It took Alan and I about an hour to pull ourselves together and stop laughing
