WILD DOG RIVER BY GREG BARRON In 1973, after a two-year stint as a Nasho – a year of which I served in Vietnam – I first laid eyes on the tiny bronze relic that would wreak havoc on my life. I was back home in Cairns, working as a…

WILD DOG RIVER BY GREG BARRON Poised to step out of the tinnie as I was, I had a good view of the camp: a bunch of dripping children, the corrugated iron and bush pole humpies I’d seen from the river, smoke drifting through from various campfires and a ‘fifties…

WILD DOG RIVER BY GREG BARRON I was young and naive in 1973, even though I’d been to war and seen things that will never leave my memory. Back then I didn’t understand the power of words and the power of being with like-minded companions, and the power of fire…