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FEBRUARY, 2003. I was in Los Angeles editing a film. I called my son, Benjamin, in Normandy and suggested he visit for a few weeks. He told me that he'd lost his Australian passport, so I pointed out he could use his British passport (Benjamin was born in England, in 1967, while I was working there) and I would arrange for a new Australian one. This would be easy, I assured him, as people must lose their passports all the time.
A couple of days later I called the Australian consular office in Los Angeles and was told it was closing down in an economy drive. They gave me the number of the office in Washington DC. I phoned the Washington office, explained what had ...