Please be assured that my research documents are covered with impeccable sauces.

I sent a scout party to Humper Hill from the Alzheimer Cure Seekers. They came back VERY LATE with big smiles on their faces.

I really appreciate your research as I could very well be wrong.

Perhaps it was called Henry Lawson Humper Hill.

On the other hand Cow Shit Hill does ring a bell, and it was included in John Manifold’s collection of Australian folk songs:
Tra la la tittledy dee
It gives me a thrill
To wake up in the
Morning on Cow Shit Hill.

P. Would like to hear more from you on local knowledge.

*The Rebellion of Cow Shit Hill received no mention by Manning Clark.

Enquiries to locals only elicit Cow Shit Hill (now Wattle Hill) or channel banks as the preferred carnal locations.

Either The Ginger Man got it wrong or I spoke to members of the Alzheimer Cure Seeker Battalion.

Dear P,

KJ.

The bombardment began at first light……….

At first The Riverina Prawn Men had the best of it.

Large missiles of flour, water, egg, and breadcrumbs began to rain down on the town.

The shire secretary was hit in the chest and carried away babbling to a casualty station.

Father Dougal, regimental chaplain, visiting for the Father Tedfest was rebuked for attempting to eat the mixture while offering spiritual consolation.

The area beyond Pine Avenue became filled with Mixture.

No Man’s Land beyond was a vast, sticky mess.

The Yabby Battalion was unable to make an advance on the left front, the Queen’s Own Cutlet Consumers were pinned down in their trenches, while the Alzheimer Cure Seekers were able to make some progress on the right flank.

The Yabbies, being an indigenous battalion, set a magnificent example under their banner, The Claw, and sent commando missions into Prawn Lines.

The enemy made considerable use of propaganda, firing pamphlets such as BOILED WITH DIGNITY, NOT CRUMBED AND FRIED into our lines.

On loudspeakers they played a Scottish song taken from the CD, KJ in the Highlands:

A Cutler for Me
Who won the VC
If you nae a CUTLET
Ye’re nae guid tae me.

The Regimental Aid Post (RAP) did a splendid job de-crumbing the casualties. Leeton Catholic Sisters kept up a stream of hot tea to those on the front line.

The tide of battle turned when we opened up with our Cat Cannon on Old Crumbie, the enemy battery.

Riverina Prawn Men, who had been without rations for several weeks, broke ranks to devour the contents. Surprisingly when they consumed Kitty Kat and other pussy provender they began to shrink.

By the time we reached their lines only the Presidential Honour Guard – a fine group indeed – were of gigantic proportions.

Under the flag of truce it was resolved to cease hostilities.

The cease fire agreement was that annually the young men of Leeton would perpetuate the Battle of Humper Hill, with all proceeds to go to assist knee trembler research efforts.

Further, it was negotiated that the postmodern practice of crumbing and frying be discouraged in favour of the Traditional Boiling and Salting, thus restoring the Dignity of the Prawn.

Yabbies counter-signed the Cease Fire Agreement with the provision that in future only good quality meat, not scraps, will be used by all children fishing for Yabbies in lakes and dams.

A Prawn Line will be administered by the United Nations.

THE END

*Ed’s note: Thanks to The Ginger Man for the magnificent The Riverina Prawn Men Are Coming! (Part of Radio National’s special Summer Reading programming).

A flare explodes in the air.

We can see the massed beady eyes of the foe, their myriad legs waving.

A small figure appears next to The Great Prawn Leader. Is it KJ ? Have they taken her hostage ? We have received a message in GHQ saying:

‘I love him, General, not as a Prawn but as a MAN.’

Have they turned her, like Paddy Hearst ?

FIRE!

An opened can of Kitty Kat sails through the air and lands near the couple.

The Prawn Leader releases his hostage and begins to gobble the contents.

The strategy will work!

Aux armes Leeton citoyens ! Formez vos batallions!

To be continued……

The Riverina Prawn Men have mounted their flour, egg and breadcrumb gun on the outskirts of Leeton. The Breadcrumb Battery, ‘Old Crumby’, cannot be allowed to go unchallenged, what, what, what? As I said to my CIC Prince William when we were having Ginners at the Grenners (they served powerful aperitifs in the Grenadiers), the enemy needs to be given a TASTE OF THEIR OWN MEDICINE.

Let us face it, men, THE RIVERINA PRAWN MAN IS NO MAN’S FOOL. They remind me of the wily Pathan.

I have established our own battery on an historic Leeton place, Humper Hill.

Humper Hill is a traditional, knee-trembler local mating place of great romantic local memory and Camilla Parker Bowles has been asked to unveil a name plate and memorial in honour of the many Leetonians who can trace their procreation to the Hill.

General G.I.N. German MC is a splendid commander. All is ready for this show, but for one small defect.

WE HAVE NOTHING TO PUT IN OUR CANNON.

Fortunately we have been joined by an American irregular, Sublootenant Barlowe, who has given us crucial intelligence.

Barlowe: Wassup?

Colonel Brasenose: No munititions. Otherwise all is going plan.

General German: Don’t panic, Colonel. We’ll come up with something. Can you help Barlowe?

Barlowe: Sure can do, kiddo. Look in these boxes. I have cleaned out every store.

Colonel Brasenose: For what, what, what – what?

Barlowe: Cat food, pilgrim. Every brand you can name. Know anything about Riverina Prawn Men?

Colonel Brasenose: Not much.

Barlowe: I kid you not, they cannot resist CAT FOOD. This is a swell lot of ammo.

General German: Well done, Barlowe!

Barlowe: Of all the crazy, mixed up, out of sight rumbles I had to walk into this hill of beans.

Colonel Brasenose: Should we sent a coded message to Canberra?

General German: No, it would just excite them.

Colonel Brasenose: Then let the BATTLE OF HUMPER HILL BEGIN. Load up the CATFOOD CANNON.

To be continued…..

As I look across the plains, I see women kneel in prayer, led by Gwennie the Patriarch, and nuns and priests say the Rosary as this town prepares to defend itself against Crustacean Calamity.

How did this come to pass?

Well, complicated matters can be settled quickly, but the obvious takes longer.

Was it Leeton’s hunger for prawn delicacies and its total disregard for prawn civil liberties? Or was it the crazed scientists who fed Mafia greed by matching human genes with those of the prawn? Was it the prawn objection to denial of a decent death, free from egg, flour and breadcrumbs?

Like the sepoys of India who objected to the British Empire’s use of cow grease on bullets, the prawns are in revolt.

Perhaps they objected before, but now they are seven metres tall. Perhaps they cannot speak, but only squeak, but Leeton has to take notice.

Marshalled against humanoid prawn mutations are the settlers of lovely Leeton.

Leeton will keep prawn eatin’, Leeton will not be beaten, they cry.

When dawn breaks, we shall discover the answer to this ongoing tragedy of Desire, Hunger and Rural Madness.

This is Edward R. Borrow. Good Night and Good Luck.

To be continued….

‘Thanks pal, you’re real swell. What’s the drill?’

‘Well, we have the yabby battalion on the left front, the Cutlet Consumers in the front, and on the right the Alzheimer Cure Seekers.’

‘All infantry?’

‘Well, yes….’

‘Set up my battery, pal.’

‘Sure, old man. We forgot about guns.’

To be continued….

Found what appeared to be a brand new mattress in the street.

Got a trolley to transport same to my boudoir.

Was told by a passerby that it wasn’t a mattress but rather a bed base.

Devastating New Year news.

Tipped base back onto street.

Back to the man eatin’ doona – where the problems remain. Namely, a piece of wire projecting precisely when my bum rests.

Dear The Knuckle,

Projecting + wire + mattress = DISASTER of a very personal nature. Be careful, KJ.

If I could get there in time the whole megillah could be won……..

Otherwise we were as dead as yesterday’s donuts in Art’s Bar and Grill, Leeton.

To be continued……