Heady times for an NT cop abroad
A life-changing stint in Cyprus was more than just scenic drives, drinks and Mediterranean food for a young Territory cop. When war broke out in the nation, things changed quicker than he could’ve imagined, writes
FOR a Territory copper stationed in Borroloola in 1973, Cyprus was an incredibly long way from home.
But when Allan Mitchell heard there was the opportunity for one police officer from the Northern Territory to travel to the Mediterranean country, he jumped.
There were simple conditions cops had to meet to be eligible to apply.
They had to be a constable and they had to be single. Allan was both, and he applied, not really knowing what
sort of ad- venture this foreign country would hold for him. “In fact, when I was advised that I was successful, I remember going over the road to the library in Katherine to see exactly where Cyprus was,” he said. The secondment would be for 12 months and the copper would be working with 35 other Australians as part of the Commonwealth Police. There was a third requirement of the applicant that wasn’t advertised though — to be of upstanding character so the constable didn’t “bring discredit to the NT Police Force”. “It seems that over the years, some previous members may have been ‘mentioned in dispatches’ back to their relevant police departments,” Allan said. The year was designed to be a breeze. Flying first class on a Qantas jumbo 747, the contingent overnighted in Bahrain before arriving in Nicosia. For Allan, his time in Cyprus could be divided into three periods. Eight months of routine duties, a few busy weeks observing a military coup and then the complete intervention of the country by the Turkish national army.
“We had three police stations in the south and west of the island — Limassol, our HQ station, with usually 19 men and two smaller stations at Paphos and Polis about 60 miles away,” he remembers.
FOR the Commonwealth Police, life was fairly routine. Over a number of years a pattern had emerged and procedures and duties carried on without any need for change.
One of the jobs a policeman was tasked with was driving to Nicosia airport once a week to collect the diplomatic bag.
Containing letters from home, newspapers and official documents, the courier would then report to the United Nations headquarters near the airport.
A Territory cop who was used to being stationed hundreds of kilometres from anywhere else, the 130km journey was not a big deal.
However, Allan soon realised he was “stuffing up a good thing”.
“I remember being taken aside by one of the contingent members who had been there for six months and told that this job takes all day and sometimes over-
night,” he remembered.
“It didn’t take long ong to see why the job could take so long. There was lunch to be had at UNHQ at the Canadian Army’s NCOs mess, where you lined up for your meal, or with some slight arrangement to your epaulets, one could eat in the officer’s mess, hosted by the British Army where it was pre-lunch drinks and table service.
“If it was an overnight trip that you were after, it was just a matter of stopping at the Danish police camp, where they manned an observation post along the Nicosia-Limassol road. After a few schnapps, we were not capable of going anywhere.”
Other highlights involved morning visits to local villages, almost purely to be given Greek or Turkish coffee and tasty snacks. By 1pm the job would be done, and it was time for lunch and an afternoon of sports, shopping or reading.
However the trip was not to remain this easy. ON a Monday morning in July 1974, the military junta in
Greece organised a coup, coup resulting in an attack on the presidential palace in Nicosia.
“At our level, the coup was completely unexpected and did not involve the UN as it was outside our mandate,” Allan said.
“The fighting only involved Greek Cypriots, between those that wanted union with Greece and those who supported the lawful independent nation. The Turkish Cypriot community were assured that it did not involve them and they were safe.”
Under the terms of independence 14 years earlier, Greece, Turkey and Britain had signed a tripartite agreement whereby each could intervene should the independence of Cyprus be threatened.
Turkey approached the British Prime Minister which, after he failed to act, put everyone “on edge”.
Five days later the country had descended into war. Around 20,000 Turkish soldiers took part in the largest seaborne invasion since World War II, and over the next month, pushed south until they occupied one third of the island.
At Allan’s police station in Paphos, the 11 officers were told about the fighting in the north through radio broadcasts.
“We knew it was to be only a matter of time, before fighting would break out in our town, which had a mixed population and a distinct Turkish enclave,” Allan said.
“We were instructed to pack our personal effects in readiness.
“We had to have everything ready to go but couldn’t leave. ... We were to remain at the station until the last minute, so as not to concern the citizens.”
It wasn’t until guns started firing from the Greek patrol boats in the harbour that the station broke into chaos.
Gone were the organised plans of taking long, winding routes through the city.
The officers raced out, driving in a long convoy towards the British army camp.
“We were just boys from the bush, Australians a very long way away from home. It certainly was not what we were expecting,” Allan said.
“One of the things I’ll always remember was how I left my Mercedes-Benz at the station. It was brand new. You really know something is wrong if you’re prepared to leave a brand new Mercedes-Benz behind.”
Despite being part of the UN forces, and effectively removed from the entire war situation, Allan said he still ran into some hair-raising situations.
At one point, after visiting a Turkish village at the bottom of one of the hills, Allan drove himself, a passenger and two armed British soldiers towards another village before coming across a group of militia.
“The leader came up to my driver’s side door and started to accuse us of spying for the Turks in the village below and that we would report to them what we saw,” he said.
“Of immediate concern was one of his lackeys, who was standing immediately at the door and pointing a Kalashnikov sub-machine gun at me, complete with bayonet — about a foot from my head.”
After eventually convincing the militia the UN had the right to use the road, the car was let through.
“The problem with dealing with the militia and not the regular army was one of discipline, or rather lack of it,” Allan said.
“They were normally in small groups and had a mix of homemade uniforms, weapons and the like. It seemed anyone could join.”
The one thing that kept life a lot easier for Allan and his fellow officers was their nationality.
“I think that the fact that the Australian police were unarmed, and every Cypriot had a relation in Australia — ‘do you know Costas, he lives in Melbourne’ — put us in good stead,” he said. “We were well accepted by both sides and there were occasions when we were sought out when information was to be given.”
Eventually, 12 months after he arrived, Allan left Cyprus.
He’s since returned a number of times, including in 2017 when he attended a ceremony for the official withdrawal of Australian troops from the country.