No by-the-book soldier is Outback; for him, the rules of war are the rules of Rafferty. If the beaten track winds, it's a fair bet he'll go straight. He's more comfortable out in the never never anyway, up grades as steep as 50 degrees, or kicking up willie willies at 110 mph. His insubordination gains him little respect from his mates, and often he finds no partner on his missions but Pat Malone and his trusty rooftop tank-jigger, loaded with armor-piercing shells.
Way in the back blocks of Outback's mind, however, there lurks a dark certainty. By the rules of Rafferty he lives, and by these rules, he is sure, Outback's bound to be a write off. The army's run by Wallies and the war's a no-hoper, but he's not totally clapped-out yet, so he'll give it a fair go. It's not the best attitude, but he'll share it with anyone without reserve. Outback calls a spade a bloody spade.
Let a mission go down the gurgler, though, and Outback's the one who'll sort it. He may be largely a mediocrity; he may be an insubordinate grizzle, but his courage is beyond reproach. By the rules of Rafferty he lives, and so far they've served him well.
His alt-mode is a Land Rover Defender.