Richard Fidler

And then two more of your men died.

Yeah.

Part of this kind of collective delirium that was sort of going on, including Ken Jones, the guy who'd got you through all of that.

When I was reading this part, Mick, I was thinking, oh, I must have felt like you were living under some cruel star at some point.

The fates have been so terribly cruel.

it would have been so easy to give in and just lie down and wait to die like those two fellas did.

What kept you going?

What thought was it that kept you wanting to live and find a way out of this impossible place?

What you didn't know well enough to give up, in other words, in a way.

He wanted a fresh note.

Don't blame him.

After it had effectively been used as a second underpants for yourself.

Right.

So after several, well, many failed attempts to get out of this inlet, you and two of the others did find your way, pushing your way through the dense forest scrub.

But when you found your way up to a road, long story short, a logger picked you up.

Right, so you're standing there in your jocks in an orange canopy made out of... What can you worry about that?

Like covered in scuts and bruises, looking like something from a horror movie, really, I suppose.

I'm sure he'd see that all the time.

I'm sure he'd see that all the time.

Just out for a stroll.