Living in the Mandate Camps (Part 2)

It has been three days since arriving at the camp. First, we are packed into these trailers with a capacity of only 12 occupants. Then, over the last two days, 3 more busloads of the unwashed or the unvaccinated arrived, so our living conditions are much more cramped. There are now 20 people in our tin-molded trailer, and on some nights, it's impossible to breathe.

On the first day, when the indigenous woman was dragged in the back of a trailer and presumably beaten, never to be seen again, most of us are obliged to follow orders.

Our routine is tedious: we rise to the sound of clanging pots and maneuvered single file to the mess hall. It should go without saying, but the food is less than desirable. On Fridays, however, is fried sausage day with fresh beetroot. On all mornings, an oatmeal-type concoction is served that isn't fit for a farm animal. I can't eat it and go through the day on an empty stomach. After breakfast, we are sent to the coal mines.

The usual Covid 19 rules like social distancing, wearing masks, and avoiding crowds change by the day. Like the outside world, the press and the government played the virus by ear, changing the rules, locking down and unlocking, pushing the vaccines, then telling us to register on our cell phones to get a Covid Pass. Before I was sent to the camps, everyone in Australia was bound to write into a digital identity program. Anyone with any sense of civil rights understands this program to be a direct violation on so many levels. Personally, I never got this far and wonder how my family is going and whether they're on this draconian digital system.

How the world has changed.

I was initially correct in believing the camp was somewhere in the deserts of the Northern Territory. From the base, we are a 30-minute bus journey from the coal mines.

Coal mining is dangerous work. We are not paid for this work and are basically slave labor. After each day, I lay in my hammock and cough all night. Most nights, I have to go outside so as not to bother my fellow unwashed. Then the day begins again – eating slop, working underground, and back to the trailer.

I met an Irish gentleman in Australia on a work visa only to be whisked away to this camp. In a broad Irish accent, he told his story.

"I arrived in Australia and was immediately quarantined in a shitty hotel in Sydney. After a week, we were released into the wild, and by the time I arrived in Melbourne, I felt sick and tested positive for Covid. By sheer luck and the fact I'm a young man, the symptoms were mild, and within a week, the virus was gone. I knew that by getting the virus, my body had developed antibodies and was protected. My work visa was for one year. But they wouldn't let me work until I received the vaccine. Of course, I was insistent that the chances of getting it again and spreading it was doubtful because I already had the virus. This was no argument as far as the authorities were concerned: "Get the jab, or we'll send you back to Ireland." I said fine that I'd rather go home than put up with this shite. They put me on a bus which I thought was going to the airport, and I ended up here."

Sean the Irishman and I became fast friends and partners in the coal mines, watching each other's backs. We discussed on most evenings why an untested vaccine took precedent over natural antibodies. Our conclusions were the same. There's an overall money element to this whole vaccine mandate rubbish, and 80% of the population has fallen for it.

On the 6^th week, Sean and I developed a plan to escape the camp. Somehow we need to steal the cell phones of two guards, using their Digital Identities to move freely through society once we run.

Obtaining two cell phones from the guards would not be easy. Finally, after a long day in the coal mines, we showed up at the mess hall and sat down, and Sean, with a cheeky grin, revealed he had a working cell phone. 

Now it was my turn.