I put on the sergeant’s uniform. It fitted well. The boots fitted well also. But the slouch hat ...? It floated on top of my huge afro and then slid off the back completely. This was a problem. In any event, I thought, Sergeants in the Australian Army probably don’t have afro hair styles. I loved my afro. It was the object of envy of all my female friends. Many used to run their fingers through it – just to see if it were real. They were convinced, if it were real, that I used ‘one hundred and one’ hot rollers every night to maintain the style. This was not true. I didn’t do anything at all to it – just a very quick comb in the morning. Nothing more. However, the afro had to go – and go now. Fortunately, the person who had maintained the flowers in the crypt had left a large pair of scissors – used to trim the stems, I suppose. Anyway, in a few minutes, I had hacked the whole afro from my head. It lay on the floor like a dead creature. David retreated to a corner, staring at me. Perhaps he feared that his afro was next. But there was no need for that – not yet, in any case. So, how did the haircut look? Awful. But it would be hidden under the slouch hat. The hat fitted me now – and I didn’t look like Sergeant Hippy, only Sergeant Very Young. When I had completed dressing myself in the Sergeant’s uniform – and had duly straightened all the sharply pressed seams – I turned to David (who was still a little fearful) and exhibited myself: “Ta-dah! What do you think, mate? Do I exude an air of authority?” I’m not sure what, if anything, he thought of my new appearance. He remained stone-faced at the sight of me – though he did look me up and down. “No matter,” I said. “Now it’s your turn.” I bade him come forward to me but he merely retreated, grunting his disapproval. (Not a good start for my grand plan). I thus needed to gently cajole David for over an hour, a precious hour, before he relented and let me start removing his also recently washed – but even more stained and filthy – clothes.
Fatel yw an ki?langbot langbot