In defence of my rising expense account

MY name is unimportant, a nom-de-plume since I write a weekly provocative defence column for a significant Australian regional newspaper.

You make ruthless enemies in such roles, hard-hearted non-binary senior officers who would throttle a grandparent if they considered their careers threatened.

Then there’s politicians who profess interest in defence providing it is a comfortable sinecure which doesn’t require emotional attachment.

At the end of the day, and in the morning, it’s all about being re-elected and occupying the treasury benches.

For me it means taking precautions when I move about, uncovering the unsavoury aspects of top-level defence intrigue.

My editor’s supportive, but only so far.

When arguing personal security is essential, there’s not always mutual agreement.

Take a recent example.

I book a taxi to deliver me to a general aviation facility to attend a major sporting activity interstate.

That doesn’t come cheap, and the taxi driver -let’s call him Pablo - understands I have to return immediately to attend the Bingo at my local RSL that same night.

Pablo arrives and I dash through my front security gate into his cab, my trench coat collar pulled high, a felt trilby and Ray-Ban aviators covering my face.

Pablo drives defensively, an eye in the rear camera monitor in case we are being followed.

My business jet is ready then waits at the destination for me to return.

I submit the taxi fares and private jet hire costs to the editor for reimbursement.

The reaction is loud, fierce and unprintable.

“What the (unprintable) did you think you were doing?” a Voice which does not accept opposition roars down the phone.

“$16,000 to watch the Cowboys play and why?”

“National security,” I reply nonchalantly to this forensic interrogation.

“For personal security reasons and timing I cant’ afford to rely on cheap internal fares, even if I could find one on non-existent, sold out Qantas flights,” I respond.

“Why take your golf clubs?”

“In case someone offers to play around.”  

“Bull chips!” I think the editor yells, “That is (unprintable) ridiculous!”

“Who do you think you are!”

There’s no simple answer, but I try.

“If the defence minister can do it to perform his duties, so must I!”

The editor quickly disabuses me of what is apparently an unsustainable argument.

Given the pittance I’m paid, a Go-Fund-Me account may be necessary to cover those costs.

I suspect however an overwhelmingly No response.

© Ross Eastgate MMXXIII

This column first appeared in The Townsville Bulletin