A Twittle to Mars Prompt Response
Blasted Blasting!
The darker side of exploration
Elon Musk tweeted a Japanese poem. Carolyn Hastings reshaped the poem into a twittle, hoping Elon would take it to Mars. That’s the short version.
Here’s a link to Carolyn’s full version and the reason behind my prompt reply:
Experienced in Woomera, South Australia:
Dreary, eerie, and very scary!
Yellowed orders cling to aging walls —
Military lock-down, sirens blare
Should radiation fall.
A Little Background Information:
The Woomera Range Complex, in South Australia, was established in 1947 as a joint military project between Australia and Britain. Its purpose was to test weaponry and launch rockets, some of which included Skylar, Black Knight, and Europa. It is now home to an RAAF base — weapons testing is still carried out in the area.
The aerospace and systems testing areas cover approximately 122,000 square kilometres. Apart from Woomera Village, and public access roads that run through the area, the complex is closed to the public. Wire fences and warning signs keep inquisitive tourists from leaving their vehicles.
The whole complex is located on Kokatha Aboriginal land.
Woomera’s history is darkened by events surrounding the deaths of many aboriginal people including infants and children; deaths that were attributed to the nuclear bomb testing to the west, at Maralinga and Emu Field.
For greater insight into the operations of the base and the terrible events that occurred, I highly recommend watching the Australian television series, “Operation Buffalo”.
Our Experience:
My husband and I, (I sound like the Queen), visited Woomera a few years ago, and I must report that the stay, although educational, (in a slanted kind of way), was quite disconcerting.
We pulled into the South Australian town having driven for several days from Brisbane. We were hot, thirsty, cranky, and looking forward to a nice refresh in a motel room, before seeking out a decent meal.
We had known very little about the area, before arriving in Woomera. I supposed it was a defunct military base of historical importance, serving as a tourist trap. Imagine my surprise when we drove around the small village and spotted no obvious accommodation. We noted a few military uniformed personnel on the quiet streets, which made me suspect my initial thoughts had been inaccurate.
Finally, we asked for assistance. We were directed to a small, neat compound area with a well-presented hotel. “Hooray,” we thought. “A hot meal, a drink, and, with luck, maybe somewhere to stay.”
Unfortunately, we had arrived outside of normal dining times. They did, however, offer accommodation, and we were directed to the back of the property where there were several old buildings on tall wooden stumps, with parking underneath. It seemed like a big come-down from the hotel!
I realised the buildings were old military barracks built in the early 1950s, re-jigged for accommodation purposes. I suspected the reno’s had been carried out in the 1970s. I also suspected that very little had been done to the rooms since then!
The place was clean but very old, with a peculiar smell in the hallway reminiscent of a public toilet. I had developed the beginnings of a migraine headache, (no food and excessive heat), so we decided to just put up with the old, uncomfortable bed, noisy refrigerator, dishevelled window blinds that did little to keep out the light, and call it a night.
To add to my misgivings, yellowing signs had been plastered on the inside of our unit door outlining air-raid, evacuation, and lock-down procedures. In the event of an emergency, (emergency? what emergency?) we would be locked down, in-situ, for however long the military presence deemed it necessary.
I don’t know if it was the weirdness of being placed in what was once housing for the lower ranks of the armed forces, or whether my headache had made me ultra-sensitive to the unsettling surroundings, amplified by my newly-learned history of the area.
Whatever it was, my nerves were strung tight with concern. I feared at any moment, a siren might suddenly begin blaring, and we would be locked down in an austere environment, without food, at the whim of the remaining military forces in Woomera!
Headache still intact, I was up at the crack of dawn, urging DSM to burn rubber as we left the hotel grounds. We stayed long enough to visit a couple of the local museums before hightailing it down the road (380 kilometres) to the underground town of Coober Pedy.
Another twittle from Carolyn Hastings:
And my first attempt at a twittle Raine Lore:
