The RAAF's Fugitive

Suicide is all too common in today's military. So why did the RAAF allow a highly rated technician, who dared to blow the whistle on drug abuse and weapons theft, almost pay the ultimate price? Paul Toohey reports.



The call came about a week ago. Leading Aircraftsman Nathan Moore's girlfriend passed on the not unexpected news that he had tried to kill himself with pills, finally making good on his threats – or, at least, going close. A few days later, he was on the phone from a pub in Melbourne. He sounded recovered, but not philosophical. Just angry.

Rewind to a few weeks earlier, and a lawyer's office in Melbourne where Moore is aglow with intensity. With his left leg tapping at machine-gun pace, the eye cannot help but be drawn by its rhythm. There is an inclination to search for flaws in Moore, 23, a former elite RAAF combat specialist who made allegations of widespread drug abuse and weapons theft among former colleagues at RAAF Amberley, near Ipswich, Queensland. Because you'd have to be at least half-crazy to do what he did: name some 50 individuals from within his own special guard unit as drug users.

For his trouble, Moore claims he has been bashed and hung out to dry by the RAAF. He is on the run and in hiding, he says, from ex-comrades who are out to kill him. He is edgy and obsessed. "The RAAF is trying to silence me. I've been on the run, been taken away from my family, left alone on bases where no one knows where I am. I believe they've openly tried to encourage me into killing myself." Now, he's made his point.

The RAAF has shunted Moore from base to base and from safe house to safe house since he raised his allegations in April 2002. That was with a superior at Amberley who – Moore says – told him to get lost. So he broke ranks and in May 2002 went to the Australian Federal Police, who immediately sent officers to interview him. This, in turn, led to Queensland police raiding the homes of several servicemen.

The RAAF has moved Moore nine times because he feels his life is under threat. At a Senate estimates hearing last November, Australia's most senior air, sea and land officers were questioned over a series of drug raids on Defence personnel in Queensland, South Australia and the Northern Territory. Speaking for the RAAF, Air Marshal Angus Houston told ALP Defence spokesman Chris Evans that he was aware of Moore's allegations. "We kept moving him when he felt unsafe," Houston said. "We have moved him again – and I prefer not to mention where he is at the moment – but we are very concerned for his welfare."

Houston's comments, at first glance, appear to provide Moore a telling degree of vindication. But Houston could just as easily have been describing someone who has become a potential suicide risk. "I think that's the area Houston's coming from," Evans says. "They do accept he felt insecure. But I don't think the police think he's under any threat. I think Houston was responding to his need to be reassured. You only have to talk to the guy [Moore] to see he believes what he says."

In 2001-02, the ADF spent $48,000 on drug and alcohol management. In 2003-04, $1.78m will be spent. ADF chief General Peter Cosgrove says the dramatic funding escalation reflects "a recognition we need to do more".

Moore's initial information on a drug circle at Amberley appears to have been right. It led to raids on personnel and admissions from 22 servicemen that they were users. Moore believes the RAAF offered more help to the users than him – and Evans says Moore is justified in this view. But is anyone from the RAAF really trying to kill him?

"I haven't tried to make the judgment as to whether Nathan Moore's fears are real," Evans says. "I just want to support him. I'm just trying to keep him alive and safe. I'm quite concerned for him."


When The Bulletin met Moore in Melbourne, he had just abandoned his latest safe house at Mt Coolum, Queensland, because he claimed it was being set upon at night by unknown assailants. Flyscreens were ripped from the windows and garden taps were turned on. Garden taps? "It's psychological torture," says Moore.

Moore had driven himself to Melbourne and was, at that stage, refusing orders to meet RAAF officers in Victoria. He wanted guarantees he wouldn't be arrested if he turned up on base. Moore bugged phone calls, one with an awkward RAAF officer who had had his case file dumped on his lap. The officer did not know how to deal with this conspiracy-theorist insubordinate except to bark angrily that he had to show for duty. But Moore wasn't playing along and the man was left exasperated.

Most telling on Moore's mind was that he believed he'd been demoted and had his pay cut for doing "the right thing". Numerous RAAF documents sighted by The Bulletin – including Moore's official RAAF ID card – describe him as a leading aircraftsman (LAC). But after he made his allegations, Defence officials began describing him as a plain aircraftsman, or AC (the equivalent of an army private). In a statement to the media, Cosgrove said Moore's apparent promotion to LAC was due to an administrative error.

Just weeks before he complained to his superior about drugs, Moore was assessed for "remuster", or a new job, with the RAAF's security police. The mandatory remuster psychological report, which also describes him as "LAC Moore", strongly recommended him for the job, stating: "Seems ready and well suited for this role. His preparations were good, his motivation is sound, his understanding of the difficulties in the role are realistic and expectations for the future are sound." It is clear that until he opened his mouth, Moore had done all the right things by the RAAF.

Moore has also been denied the protection of the Defence Whistleblower's Scheme, which came into effect in July 2002. Cosgrove was reported as saying this was because he went outside Defence to the AFP. Moore argues he had no choice because the RAAF didn't want to listen. Moore, who has done two years of legal studies through a Queensland TAFE and is a qualified justice of the peace, knows enough. Enough to get right up the RAAF's nose. This low-ranking serviceman's name is well known to Australia's top military. He is now an official headache.

Moore was in Melbourne with a former schoolmate, Clay Collinson, also 23, who left a civilian job six months earlier to join his beleaguered friend. Collinson wasn't handling being a whistleblower's buddy too well. Caught up in Moore's world, he too appeared depressed and disillusioned. "They've got the whole Defence whistleblowing scheme where they trick people into coming forth with information, and what happens?" Collinson asked. "They get beaten up, they get raped and they end up killing themselves because they get isolated." Asked whether he was in for the long haul with his mate, Collinson replied: "I think so. Unless I kill myself in the process." Why do you say that? "Just the pressure." A week later, Collinson was in a Melbourne hospital after threatening to harm himself. Two days later, he'd shaken off his demons and was back at Moore's side.

The failure of both men to finish the job properly may appear to be attention-seeking of the most calculated type. But both are genuinely not coping. They share a cinematic vision of high-echelon military Canberra, where some giant, eyeless, killer colonel-bureaucrat monitors their every move and has failed to rub them out only by dint of bumbling subordinates.

Moore presents as anything but a young man about to embark on life. "I'm a sinking ship," he says. "All people want to do is discredit me and put me down when all I tried to do was the right thing. I was the first person in the military to go outside the chain of command to the authorities to get assistance. I've opened a can of worms.

"The message to all servicemen out there is that if you see something going on, you do not report it to your superiors. Do not go outside the chain of command – you'll get found out, you'll get bashed, you'll be on the run. I've been dragged around the country. 'Look at this bloke – this is what happens to a whistleblower. If anyone gives any information about what goes in-house at Defence, this is what'll happen to you. You'll be made bankrupt. We'll cut your pay, we'll demote you, we'll traumatise and harass you. We'll take your career away from you. You'll be left trying to survive by yourself on the streets because no one will stick by you.' That's what happens and that is a true story of what a whistleblower goes through."


In February 2000, Moore enlisted as an aircraftsman in the Airfield Defence Guard. Tasked with defending airbases from attack, "Adgies" are trained at Amberley, where they wear a unique blue-grey beret and receive intense weapons training. Famous within the forces as the last Australian troops to leave South Vietnam in 1975 because there wasn't room for them on the final flight to evacuate Australian embassy staff, the RAAF boasts in a publicity sheet that 60% to 75% of those who attempt the Adgie course fail. Moore was regarded highly within the unit. But, having followed his Vietnam-serving dad into service life, he didn't like what he saw.

"People were taking pills on exercise, dropping ecstasy to make it more exciting," he says. "People were turning up to work on speed, smoking pot in lunch breaks. On counter-terrorism drills, people were using speed and when we were out bush, people were staying awake using speed, and obviously the psychotic effects speed has, after several days, with people using live ammunition ..."

Moore claims "at least" a third of the 150-odd Adgies he served with were on drugs – speed, ecstasy, GHB (liquid ecstasy, aka GBH), steroids and cannabis. He had also been attached to RAAF stores, where he regularly saw equipment disappear, he says. The method for stealing standard-issue Steyr semi-automatic rifles was, he says, to return from exercise with one part of the weapon – which breaks into five component groups – missing. "Little by little [the components] are walking off and they reassemble a whole weapon at home. Several weapons [Steyrs] went missing while I was there. There was also an F89 [a light support semi-automatic machine gun], tripods, batons, gas masks, pistols, all 'lost' in the field or unexplained. Seven pairs of night-vision goggles were taken from the Airfield Defence Wing. There was a person seen – a member of that wing – trying to flog them off to bikies at the local pub. Then we move onto ballistic equipment – helmets, Kevlar vests, IEDs [improvised explosive devices]. We would sign out 25 items to an exercise and 22 would come back. Where's the rest?"

In April 2002 Moore made his formal complaint, claiming he could identify 50 ADG personnel involved in drug use, on and off base. The superior he reported it to "said that basically he knew about it," Moore says. "He said: 'What do you want me to do about it?' That was the end of the conversation." Moore claims he was not asked to name names.

Why were soldiers taking drugs? "If you look at it from a performance-enhancing aspect, that explains the speed and the steroids. The other thing is that people are depressed. You are treated like a dog. People are singled out and bullied. To cope with life, that's how they do it – take drugs. Then there are those who take advantage of the situation and become dealers." Asked if he has any sympathy for his colleagues, Moore stiffens: "Sympathy? To a certain degree, yes. I can understand it, but we also signed up as sworn servants to protect our country. Drugs aren't helping us in any way. I've seen what speed psychosis can do."

In May 2002, Moore rang an AFP hotline. This time, they did ask for names. Two he fingered were fellow Adgies LAC Scott Challen and another man, both of whom turned up at Moore's home on July 29, 2002. Challen blindsided him with a punch to the face. Challen later pleaded guilty (charges against the other man were dropped because there was no evidence he attacked Moore).

One of Challen's lawyers says Moore did not inform on Challen and the other man until after the assault, which was actually over a girl both Challen and Moore were seeing. The reason Challen and the other man went to Moore's house was to collect some of the girl's belongings. Moore rears against this argument, claiming he didn't know that Challen and the girl were an item until months later.

For the next few weeks, Moore – whose jaw joint was shattered – sought medical help. When he returned to base on August 28, his reputation as a rat was entrenched. The next day Queensland police, without telling the RAAF, raided homes including those of Challen, the other man and another ex-RAAF member. After the raids, Moore was placed on front-gate guard duty at Amberley so – he alleges – every Adgie coming to and from the base could stare him out.

Moore claims the Adgies were lined up and told "words to the effect of: 'A dog and a nark in this squadron has been giving information to the police. You probably already know who this person is. Queensland police are raiding houses and if anyone's got anything untoward or any military property at home, they are to return it ASAP'. So all these people left and went home – although it was too late for Challen 'cause his house had already been hit."

Moore did not hear the superior tell the men to clean out their homes; he had it reported to him by two fellow Adgies. But by now, with police beginning their raids, RAAF ­command was starting to listen. Moore was asked whether anyone could back his claims of drug abuse and the two Adgies came forward. It is understood the two have since been posted interstate for their safety.

At Amberley, 345 people were pulled off operations and read the riot act in the wake of Moore's allegations. "Out of all of that, of the 345 personnel, a total of 22 members came forward and admitted they might have been involved in the illegal use of drugs," Houston says. Six of the 22 tested positive in urine analysis.

Moore, complaining he could no longer work among men he'd fingered for drugs, briefly went AWOL from gate duty. Thus began his new life, hiding in bases along the eastern seaboard. Wherever he was posted, he claims, personnel quickly learnt who he was and intimidation and harassment began anew.

At the same time, low-ranking Defence staff have developed an inclination for suicide to such an extent that the NSW coroner has decided to go behind military lines to see if there is a common thread – bastardisation or drugs – to the high suicide rate. And the Senate is inquiring into the effectiveness of the military justice system and is considering the wider suicide and accidental death issue.


In late 2002, the RAAF staged an internal inquiry into drugs at Amberley, at which Moore gave testimony. The report was never made public but Houston told the Senate hearing: "The outcome of the inquiry, the investigation, was that there was limited – I think these are the words used at the time – use of soft drugs."

Last May, Moore was sent to a NSW naval hospital after it was found his jaw had not repaired properly. He was diagnosed for deep depression and began a six-month stint at the base, stupefied on sedatives. He recalled being told to remove his LAC rank slides because he was only an AC. Then he heard a death threat had "come down" from Amberley. Moore was immediately flown to Brisbane and told to report to a military hospital. By then, he was considered a RAAF leper. Medically unfit to serve, he moved into the first of a series of "safe houses" provided by the force.

In October 2002, Challen went before Ipswich Magistrates Court on the assault charge and was fined $150, no conviction recorded. He was also fined $200 for steroids and drug equipment picked up in the raid on his home. Leaving court, Challen, a bodybuilder, showed the media cameras his biceps, saying: "Take a good look at that, fellas." Challen, despite assaulting a fellow airman and being found guilty on drug charges, was named for promotion from LAC to corporal. The promotion never went through.

"Moore's initial concerns have been proven right," Evans says. "I spoke to Houston before Christmas and got some personal assurances the kid would be looked after. And Houston wants to deal with Nathan but Nathan is making it difficult by not turning up to meetings. He blew the whistle on a drug circle. I am concerned the Defence Department seems to have, in trying to be fair to those who were alleged to be the wrongdoers, [allowed] Nathan [to be] disadvantaged."

Moore, who faces imminent discharge, says his suicide attempt was about something that just kept building up. In a recent meeting with a wing commander Moore had outlined his demands: that his LAC rank be formally recognised, that he be back-paid, that he either be pulled into a desk job in Canberra close to Houston's satellite or posted overseas under a secret name. All were rejected, his solicitor, Wally Edwards, says. Moore was also told there would be no ex gratia payment for his jaw and subsequent mental trauma – he'd have to go through the normal channels. The time, it seems, has come for Angus Houston to bring Nathan Moore in from the cold.