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| Poor quality pic of Keith returning from Operation Finschhafen - April 1970 |
Keith was born on March 13th, 1945 and died on
August 13th, 2019.
I was privileged to know him for only a small part of his
life, initially when we were marched into B Company 7 RAR in July 1969, and
from that time until he left B company in June 1970, halfway through our tour
of duty. Keith had thick glasses, and after another soldier who also wore
glasses was killed in a mine incident, Keith, amongst others was consequently removed
from our rifle section.
I was privileged to experience that period of operational
service with Keith, After that, like most Nashos, we went our separate ways.
Later, we would encounter each other at battalion reunions,
notably in Melbourne and Adelaide, and recently, when Keith was diagnosed with
multiple myeloma, more frequently. This last association was perhaps the most
significant for me, when all the qualities that I had observed in Keith from
earlier times, came to the fore.
These qualities of generosity, quiet courage, and complete
integrity shone brightly as he struggled with his illness. Keith is probably
the most selfless person I have ever known.
Along with the rest of us in his National Service intake,
Keith adjusted to army life quickly. He did so with the minimum of fuss and
maintained his core values more strongly than many of us.
Keith had a strong Catholic faith, and never once did I ever
see him do or say anything that compromised that faith. That was a tall order,
given what he dealt with on operational service.
Two things stand out when I remember him.
One is that he never swore. He didn’t need to. Keith was
never out to impress anyone.
He also, as far as I remember, never had a nickname. Again,
he didn’t need one. He was simply Keith.
Towards the end of his life, a group of us from 5 Platoon
would, from time to time, converge in Newcastle to spend some time with him. On
one of these occasions, Keith invited me to stay at his place, to save the
expense of motel accommodation. I never did that again, because he spent the
whole time I was in his home, looking after my every need. This was a man who
was very ill and in pain much of the time, but Keith put that aside, and became
the perfect host for the duration of my stay.
I reflected that perhaps because he had cared so well for
his aging mother for so long in that home, he simply reverted to that same
generous habit.
Another habit of Keith’s was letter-writing. He was probably
the only person I knew who would write to me regularly. I still have a letter
he wrote to me in 1991, telling me of a fellow member of 5 Platoon who was
killed in a police siege. I remember him writing that we should look after each
other so that kind of incident would never be repeated.
Again, his first thought on that occasion was about caring
for others.
In summary, I shared only a small part of Keith’s
life, but am forever grateful for that association and insight into his character and quiet
strength.
May he rest in peace.
