Names on the Wall

Wall of remembrance

On a recent trip to Canberra to participate in the 75th Anniversary of National Service, I took the opportunity to attend the daily last post ceremony held at the pool of reflection at the Australian War Memorial.

It was a moving ceremony, attended as it was by a lot of Vietnam veterans. There was a sea of grey hair and the setting sun glinted on Vietnamese campaign medals.

Pool of reflection

The soldier remembered was signalman Alexander Henry Young, a Nasho killed at the Battle of Coral Balmoral on 16th May 1968.

The wall of remembrance reminded me of the Vietnam veterans' memorial in Washington which I visited in 2018. There are 57000 plus names on that wall. There are 521 Australian names on the Canberra wall.

Washington memorial

The first two names from 7RAR on the right hand column are from B Coy, and record the deaths of two diggers who died in April 1970 when we hit a bunker system. I remember it well.

One died of heat exhaustion after our overnight company insertion on foot into the AO, and the other was killed by shrapnel from a rocket propelled grenade when 4 platoon assaulted the bunkers.

The third name down from top right was a soldier who initially transferred out of 7RAR when his father complained to the local federal member that his son's thick glasses would be a major problem in a rifle section in Vietnam. This soldier was put before the Eastern Command Medical Board and declared fit to serve. He was reposted to C Company on 14th May and killed on 6th June in a mine incident, the day after my twenty-third birthday.

May they rest in peace.

It's an Ill Wind

 

Pic courtesy Military History & Heritage Victoria

Australians called up during the second National Service scheme (1965 -72) have been to a large extent whitewashed out of our history. 

Those 15381 who served in Vietnam have to some extent been redeemed by a cultural shift assisted by the Welcome Home March in October 1987, and John Schumann's "I Was Only Nineteen", albeit fifteen years after the last of us left Vietnam. Better late than never, I suppose.

The forty thousand plus who did not serve in Vietnam have never really been recognised nor adequately compensated, but there is a smaller cohort who did contribute significantly to the peaceful independence of Papua New Guinea in 1975.

These were the "Chalkies", or Nashos who were called up as teachers, assigned to Education Corps, promoted to rank of sergeant, and shipped to New Guinea to teach Papuan members of the Pacific Islands Regiment. The rapid promotions put many regular soldiers' noses out of joint, but these men did a low key but significant job in enculturating unifying values into members of what is arguably the most significant institution in PNG.

Remember that native Papuans come from very different environments in that country and speak 840 living languages which makes it the most linguistically diverse country on the planet.

Into that diverse mix were sent over three hundred young Australians, who had worked as teachers for twelve months post call up and were then conscripted and trained as members of one of the most effective jungle fighting armies in the world. They were tasked to create and provide a meaningful and relevant curriculum to Papuan soldiers.

Given the peaceful outcome of PNG  independence, despite dire predictions of conflict such had developed in ex colonies such as Kenya, Rhodesia (Zimbabwe) and Angola, that contribution should be recognised, fifty years down the track.

As a personal note, if I had been allocated to Education Corps, which as a teacher was my preference, I may have spent the rest of my brief and unspectacular army career contributing something useful.

I should, I guess, be grateful I got home from Vietnam in one piece, unlike two hundred other Nashos killed, and thirteen hundred significantly wounded.

Remember the Chalkies.

It's an ill wind. 

 

A Cautionary Tale

Pic Courtesy Scamwatch

Until a few days ago, gentle reader, I thought I was scam-proof. I've always avoided the usual traps (clicking on links in emails, etc) and am security conscious to the point of hypervigilance.

Not so.

Two days ago, I had my card refused at the bakery early in the morning, so paid cash, wondering what was going on.

I had been home only a few minutes when my bank phoned saying there had been suspicious activity on my card (overseas transaction). Once they knew it was an unauthorised transaction, they gave me the option of cancelling my card, or letting me monitor transactions closely.

I chose the latter because I didn't want to be lumbered with using cash until a new card arrived.

Then, almost on cue, an email arrived, telling me to contact PayPal because there was unauthorised activity on my account. I checked the account, and indeed there was a transaction (purchase of antivirus software) that I had not authorised.

(I use PayPal to sell my book).

I phoned the number on the email, and then began a long conversation with someone who sounded South Asian, was very polite, and had all my details at his fingertips.

The problem was, he wasn't working for PayPal. He was a very sophisticated scammer who had set up a successful ambush. If I had checked the number when I logged into PayPal and found it was different, I would have realised what was going on, but I didn't.

Over about twenty minutes he kept me on the line whilst he claimed he was ensuring my account was secure. He wasn't. He was moving funds from my account using money transfer Apps which he convinced me to download to my phone, on the pretext that he would use them to test the security settings.

At this point I became suspicious, especially when he heard me talking to my bride, who by this time, was also becoming suspicious. He asked me who else was on the call.

I hung up, and phoned my bank. After the usual identity process, they put me through to their security team, who confirmed that $5000 in two separate transactions had been removed from my account.

A prolonged conversation ensued, during which the bank agent sought as much detail as I could provide. It was a very thorough interrogation, and apparently useful.

The bank retrieved the funds overnight, but my card was cancelled, and access to my online banking denied until I could get the two devices I used (iMac and iPhone) certified cleaned. 

This involved cost and inconvenience, and the technician involved told me he was getting an average of five jobs a week cleaning and certifying devices which had been used by scammed customers. 

There are a couple of lessons. One is never to phone a number on an email, until you're absolutely certain it is genuine. It's easy to do so by checking the origin address on the email. I didn't - first time ever.

The other is to follow your instincts, which I subsequently did by terminating the call, but not before the damage was done.

I was very impressed by the thoroughness of the bank, and their persistence in securing the return of the funds. I'm not entirely sure how that was done. Readers may make suggestions through commentary.

I dodged a bullet...

In Memoriam

From left - Bob Hughes, Allan Aldenhoven and John Walker. (Pic courtesy AWM)

Today, gentle reader, is the fifty-fifth anniversary of B Coy, 7 RAR's encounter with a bunker system at grid reference 588698 near a feature which the operational maps called the "bone".

I remember it as if it were yesterday.

We had, as a company, a number of fleeting contacts leading up to the action which had indicated that VC were active in the area. It was the middle of the dry season, and access to water was an issue both for us, and whatever VC were around.

At the end of the encounter, all three platoons had taken casualties - 4 platoon one KIA (Bob Hughes), and one WIA (Karl Metcalf), 5 platoon one WIA (Colin Tilmouth), and 6 platoon (Graham Kavanagh) who died of dehydration on the 21st, the day before we hit the bunkers.

We had been inserted into the AO on the 19th April by patrolling all night along the dry creek bed of a stream called the Suoi Lho O Nho, led by Karl Metcalf, OC 4 platoon. Karl's navigation skills saw the whole company safely arrive in the AO. Most of us were exhausted at the end of the insertion, as we had stumbled for hours in the pitch dark along a rocky creek bed in close single file, fully laden with rations, water and ammunition, and immediately following a period of R & C at Vung Tau, when we'd drunk plenty of beer and other local concoctions. 

A number of men in my (5) platoon had collapsed by the time we arrived, and apparently the same was happening to other callsigns and Graham Kavanagh (6 platoon) had collapsed and became progressively weaker as time passed. I remember seeing a group of soldiers clustered around him as we passed through their position. He died of severe dehydration just before a medivac chopper turned up.

Graham Kavanagh's medical report. (Note misspelling).

Doug Gibbons (OC 5 platoon) had taken a half platoon squad out mid-morning on the 22nd to patrol along a dry creek, and it was a sentry from the bunker system that opened up on that patrol. Colin Tilmouth was wounded and choppered out, after Doug Gibbons retrieved him.

Colin (Charlie) Tilmouth

4 platoon,  led by Karl Metcalf, assaulted the bunkers, and the VC used RPGs to repel them. It was shrapnel from an RPG round fired into a tree that killed Bob Hughes. I was part of a half platoon group that remained as a blocking force on the banks of the dry gully whilst all this was going on. Looking back on it, it was only dumb luck that spared me, and others from my section, from participating in the assault. 

After an afternoon when artillery, a light fire team (Bushranger gunships), and USAF F-100s joined in to attack the bunkers, tanks were summoned. It took them the best part of the evening to turn up, and by then it was too dark to move on the bunkers. Apparently, the combination of tanks, infantry and darkness would not have been conducive to a successful assault.

Next morning the tanks moved in and destroyed the bunkers, but the VC had (wisely) decamped.

This was our first serious contact as a company, and the second time we had been under fire. The first time was when 4 platoon opened up on us on 13th March in a friendly fire incident when Paul Lusk was wounded. I was patrolling next to him at the time, and the incident remains firmly implanted on my memory. Being on the receiving end of a volley of M60 concentrates the mind.

So today, I remember Bob Hughes, Graham Kavanagh and Colin Tilmouth (who was repatriated to Australia, and died in 1990).

May they rest in peace, and their memory be honoured. 

Sed pro gratia dei.....

Australian Coffee Culture

 

Coffee & Chicory (Pic courtesy museums Victoria)

I’ve been around long enough, gentle reader, to have lived through some remarkable changes in the way we drink coffee in Australia.

As far as I can remember when I was growing up, my parents never drank coffee. They were both tea drinkers. The coffee that was around at that time was execrable, which may have had something to do with it. 

I do remember my mother always having a Coffee substitute in her pantry. To this day I'm not sure what it was used for. Perhaps it was part of a cake recipe. It was never used to make coffee.

When I was old enough to leave home, I started drinking instant coffee occasionally. Working as a young teacher in the bush meant that I was exposed to staff room milk. If you're not familiar with staff room milk, suffice to say that it was frequently off on Mondays, after sitting in the staffroom across the weekend. This forced me to drink black tea, a habit I've maintained. I could never stomach black coffee.

Then I was called up conscripted, the tea and coffee often came in ration packs. At this time I reverted to coffee, perhaps because it was a mild stimulant. Mostly in the army I was bored stiff, and the caffeine provided a little bit of excitement.

This continued once in Vietnam, although occasionally there was some excitement. Drinking coffee had by this time become a habit.  

Back in civvy street I remained addicted to coffee and cigarettes, but gave up the latter cold turkey by refusing to buy smokes. The social pressure (smokers retreating when they saw me approaching to bum a durry) did the trick.

A few years back into teaching I had an itinerant job supporting kids with disabilities in bush schools, and saw the inside of plenty of roadhouses. They almost always had a boiling urn and enormous tins of instant (usually Bushells) coffee in the corner.

I returned to this work post retirement (which I failed first time round), but by then (2010) proper barista coffee was becoming available in these same roadhouses. It was usually served by backpackers with interesting accents.

The contrast between what was available in the seventies in the bush, and what is sold now is stark.

Trips to Vietnam post retirement introduced me to Vietnamese coffee (very strong and smooth and served with condensed milk) and a sojourn in the USA and Cuba in 2018 revealed that American coffee is not a patch on ours. I found the Vietnamese brew slightly more robust than what I encountered in Cuba. Both were better on the street than in the USA, but not of the quality that you can find locally.

Whilst I probably haven't travelled enough to make any reasonable comparisons, I reckon that Australian coffee is amongst the best in the world. Italian immigration post world war two probably has much to do with this. An Italian coffee culture developed first in Melbourne and has spread. Having said that, when I was in Italy in the eighties, I don't remember being impressed by their coffee.

Australian coffee culture has been exported to the USA and chains have developed. 

Australians are great innovators, they import excellent beans, and their baristas are the best. The machines used are invariably good quality and this helps. We're now growing coffee on the Atherton Tableland, so the coffee scene can only improve.

Only the best of everything originates in that part of the world, including my bride...

Sound and Fury....

 

Pic courtesy Dan Connors - Medium

You can always rely on the bard, gentle reader, to find words fitting any given situation.

If he were alive today, I have no doubt that he would apply those words to the statements made by the abomination occupying the White House at the moment.

These statements are indeed sound and fury, but what do they actually signify?

To my way of thinking, they signify a mindset foreign to rationality, but uniquely American. This mindset is known as American exceptionalism. It's an important feature of their culture.

I have met plenty of Americans, in a range of situations including serving beside them in Vietnam (albeit a long time ago), working with American teachers in the seventies when a local shortage meant many were recruited, and visiting their country not so long ago.

My contact with Americans over the years has revealed a few things. Individually, they're reasonable people, but collectively, they harbour beliefs about their country that are largely delusional.

That's where the "exceptionalism" label applies. Many of them believe that because they're Americans, their country is exempt from the rules of international behaviour that apply to everyone else..

Life expectancy - International comparisons

Hence their scorning of international organisations, and most recently their sanctions against the ICC.  Put simply, they believe that they are somehow culturally superior to almost everyone else, and they are simply excused because of this assumed superiority.

Incarceration rates - International comparisons

This "superiority" is a fiction. Their life expectancy, incarceration rates, murder rates  and  health care standards provide real evidence of conditions of national inferiority.

 It's pretty clear that the US is indeed exceptional amongst Western countries, but in a negative sense. 

Health Care system performance

Trump's worldview is a blend of real estate entrepreneur and world championship wrestling promoter. As such, he does indeed represent the world view of many of his countrymen.

Murder rates comparison

 So his words do indeed signify something, but that "something" is exploitative, manipulative, and arrogant.

Not much has changed since 1970, when we used to say as Australians serving aside Americans - "You can tell them anything; sell them anything".

A glance at the images above affirms that aphorism.

As Australians, we have more in common with the Vietnamese than the Americans. Like the Vietnamese, we have a sense of humour, endurance and kowtow to nobody.  Remember that in the end, the Vietnamese overcame American exceptionalism....

Harry Smith's Story

I've just finished reading Harry Smith's Long Tan - The Start of a Lifetime Battle, and found it hard to put down.

Harry Smith was the commander of D Coy 6RAR during the battle of Long Tan in August 1966. Despite the title, his book covers events prior to and after the battle, as well as his own account of his company's ordeal when it defied an estimated regimental attack from main force NVA assisted by local elements of D445.

The book has the flavour of an exercise in setting the record straight, and he pulls no punches describing the intelligence failures that led to the encounter battle, the incompetence of senior task force commanders, and his conflict during the heat of battle with these same commanders in getting the artillery support he needed for the survival of D Coy.

Smith (who died in 2023) was a soldier's soldier, and disinclined to suffer fools gladly, especially when it came to the allocation of honours and awards for his soldiers. He spent the remainder of his life post Long Tan fighting for justice for the members of D Coy who were denied awards because of the quota system that operated at the time, and for many years post Vietnam.

Because there was a ceiling placed on the number of decorations to be awarded, senior commanders who experienced the battle from their command posts safe behind the wire at Nui Dat received honours whilst the soldiers under fire for hours had recommendations rescinded. Smith did extensive research for years, especially after the thirty year rule revealed the correspondence relating to these awards.

It makes pretty shocking reading, and it obviously motivated Harry Smith to fight for his men until the situation was largely remedied in November 2016, representing the culmination of a fifty year battle.

Smith's commentary on the human costs of the war makes interesting reading. One example - 

Whilst I have always been deeply saddened by the loss of the 18 young men in a battle that should not have happened in a war we could not win, and as well, the 521 men who gave their lives during the Vietnam War,  I must say now feel too for the families and loved ones of those young enemy soldiers we killed. Many of these soldiers were just teenagers.  (p187).

Apart from the remarkable narrative of Smith's battle for his soldiers, this book provides an amazing insight into the way the Australian military is organised, and the difficulties experienced by a career soldier attempting to maintain a stable family life. Again, Smith's honesty shines through, and he is quite frank about his failed marriages.

The book had a special resonance for me, as I have been to Long Tan twice, and went to school with Frank Topp, who was killed in the first few minutes of the battle. He was a local, and I got to know his mother before she died a few years ago.

My first sight of Long Tan was in April 1970 when we used a site near the rubber as a forming up point before we set out along the dry bed of the Suoi O Lo Nho on a night company move into the AO of our second operation.

The second time I was there was in March 2006 on a tour with my sons and a group of Vietnam veterans, most of whom were ex 8RAR.

The second visit was much more pleasant than the first.

A Letter to Heston

I received an email from Heston Russell the other day. He is the founder of the now defunct Australian Values Party.

He is asking for an apology from the ABC for alleged misreporting.

This is what I wrote in reply - 

Dear Heston 

I note you’re asking for an apology from the ABC for misreporting.

Fair enough, but I’ve just about given up on getting an apology for the treatment of tens of thousands of young Australians from 1965 to 1972.

I’m referring of course, to the heinous National Service Act 1964, introduced by a Coalition government. This piece of legislation conscripted one in twelve twenty year olds to be enlisted in the ARA, and sent about sixteen thousand of us to Vietnam, to participate in a futile and tragic conflict which killed millions of Vietnamese, fifty seven thousand Americans, and five hundred Australians, two hundred of them conscripts. I saw two of them die in April 1970. Misreporting is a pretty venial sin compared to that.

Where does your Australian Values Party stand on support for ex-service personnel?

If you’re serious about justice and fairness, as an ex-serviceman, you should be advocating for national servicemen, about thirty thousand who survive. Those, like me, who saw active service, have been compensated, after years of struggle, but those who served in Australia, PNG and Malaysia, have not. The DVA white card which they have now been grudingly granted offers very limited support.

Here is a piece I wrote about my experience, which is far from unique. I am one of the lucky ones. Three members of my rifle section had succumbed to trauma by the time of the Welcome Home march in October 1987. It was too late for them -  https://independentaustralia.net/australia/australia-display/reflections-on-the-fall,4404

So until you’re ready to publicly advocate for an apology for national servicemen, you won’t get any support from me. Every email you send simply reinforces my opinion that you put political  affiliation before support for veterans. Prove me wrong.

Bob Whittaker

5 Platoon, B Coy, 7RAR, 1970

It's Time

 

Excuse me for resurrecting the 1972 political slogan, gentle reader, but it's completely relevant.

Back then, I had returned to teaching after two years in the army, and ten months (298 days to be precise) on active duty in South Vietnam.

It was great to have returned to a productive enterprise (teaching kids with disabilities) in complete contrast to my experience during 1969/70. Most people I encountered after my RTA* were in a state of disregard about our commitment to a civil war in peacetime on foreign soil and wanted no part of any discussion about it.

That suited me, as I wanted to put the sojourn behind me, and get on with life.

That disregard had changed somewhat by 1987, with the Welcome Home march, and John Schumann's popular song, but for most Australians it was a non-issue. There was a lost fifteen years when Vietnam and national service had been consigned to the forgettery. Neither of these events (the march and the song) were initiated by politicians, although Bob Hawke did take the salute at the march. The march was organised by the veterans, although the then Labor government got behind it with some financial support through  transport and organisation.

If you follow the activity post withdrawal of politicians of all brands, they have studiously avoided the issue. John Howard made a speech on the 40th Anniversary of the Battle of Long Tan, but the apology was about how we were treated on return, rather than for sending us in the first place. He also made no distinction between volunteers (regular army) and Conscripts (Nashos). 

There has never been an apology to conscripts for sending us to Vietnam. Our situation was markedly different from that of the regular soldiers, who were all volunteers. It's likely that no politician wants to remind voters that there has been only once in our military history when selective conscription was used to send young men to kill and die in peacetime, and the party that did so would rather that it be forgotten.

But there are cranky old curmudgeons like me, who remember, and when my local Coalition federal member contact me unsolicited on Facebook, I decided to remind him of the war, his party's support of it, and their lack of action since.

This is my contribution to his feed.

I'll let you know the outcome, but won't be holding my breath.

*Return to Australia.

Humanity, Humour and Humility - a Review of "Lest"

 

Mark Dapin seems to have made a habit of slaughtering sacred cows.

That's not unique, of course, but he does it with style and humour. There is a flavour of humility, and the writing is frequently self-deprecating.

I didn't have any idea what to expect when I found this book next to my self-published memoir in my local Dymocks. (I was checking how many copies were left, as I sell them, five at a time, on consignment). 

Some sweet young person had written a review on a slip of paper attached to the shelf. That was nice.

A bit of self-promotion is always good, and there are only eighty copies of the one thousand I had printed left. But I digress......

I had no intention of buying it, but given that I've read much of what he's written (except for his fiction - I don't read fiction) I grabbed it.

I did pay for it, by the way, something that didn't happen for one reader who stole a copy of my book from the shop last year. I'm not sure what to make of that.

Dapin's "Lest" is an engaging read. There is a unique balance of historical research, humour and whimsy that captures even the most cynical reader.

And there is a bit of that as well...cynicism, I mean.

War myths abound in our national literature. They're like barnacles. Challenging them can attract all manner of hostility.

I reckon Dapin has read Teaching as a Subversive Activity and has a highly developed ICD. That's Postman and Weingartner's Inbuilt Crap Detector for those who haven't read it.

He takes us through a range of beliefs that have been marinated in semi-sacred sentiment for generations, including Anzac Day, white feathers, Gallipoli, Monash, and the Emu War.

He ventures where others have feared to tread, covering No Poofters, spitting at Vietnam veterans, the role of the RSL, and makes predictions about myths to come. Nothing is sacred, even the old joke about Vietnam veterans and lightbulbs.

Yet the material is handled deftly, without offense to veterans, and with the objective clarity of an outside observer. Dapin is, after all, an ex-Pom, and I reckon that provides a perspective generally absent in lifetime locals.

Despite what I'd regard as a lightness in tone, there is obviously a deal of hard research embedded in this book.

It should be required reading in every Australian high school history curriculum. It won't be, of course. 

Most current high schoolers have a very vague grasp of recent wars, especially Vietnam, Iraq and Afghanistan.

But the myths endure.

 

 

Degrees of Separation - A Book Review (Sort of)

Recently I've reconnected with my class at boarding school in 1961/62. That's over sixty years ago. 

There was a reunion organised which I couldn't attend, but it led to a raft of email exchanges. 

It was almost eerie to discover that one of those people was, like me, an ex-Nasho, a Vietnam veteran, and like me, wrote a book about it. Strangely, I remember his name, but can't put a face to him. 

Again, it was a long time ago. 

Anyway, I tracked down his memoir which he called Dominoes and Marbles and read it in one sitting.

Apart from the fact that the subject matter describes experiences we shared which obvious resonates, it's an engaging narrative, and the product of a professional writer; a journalist.

One chapter, which he called Fortes in Fide,  and which describes his experiences at school, unearthed previously hidden memories of my two years at a boarding school nearly a thousand kilometres from my home in North Queensland, as a thirteen year old who had never been away from my family.

It reminded me of another schoolmate who often defended me when I was on the receiving end of a bit of bullying. In those days I weighed thirty kilograms wringing wet, and probably needed a bouncer. This schoolmate went on to join the regular army and was killed in the Battle of Long Tan in 1966.

The memoir covers much more than Vietnam. The author describes his childhood at Mount Tyson, his primary school experiences in the small state school there, and his time at Downlands.

He relates experiences at recruit training similar to mine, and his posting to Vietnam in September 1966, four years before me. He served with 5 RAR, the battalion my unit (7 RAR) replaced on its second tour.  

Much of the narrative describes his experiences as an apparently competent rugby union player, a journalist, and his appreciation of the music of the Vietnam era. 

For me, the memoir is very much an indulgence in nostalgia, but it's well worth a read as it captures the flavour of the time.

You can buy it online here - https://www.amazon.com.au/Dominoes-Marbles-Young-Times-Peace/dp/0994281439

  

The One Day of the Year

At the cenotaph 25.04.24

It took me fifteen years after returning from Vietnam before I marched on Anzac Day.

There were all manner of reasons for this, but foremost amongst them was the reception we received in the early seventies if identified as Vietnam veterans. I was never personally called a "baby killer" but the atmosphere of  indifferent hostility (particularly on the campus of the University of Queensland where I was undertaking a Department of Labour and National Service rehabilitation scholarship) was absolutely clear.

So I put the whole experience on a shelf, worked and studied, got married and became a father.

In 1983 I was the principal of a special school in a Northern Brisbane suburb. On Anzac Day of that year the local RSL club donated $500 to the school. 

I'd previously had nothing to do with the RSL, but was obliged to meet with the local president to organise a presentation of the donation on Anzac Day, and he became aware that I was a returned soldier. I refused his offer to join the RSL, but accepted an invitation to march.

It was only after the Welcome Home in 1987, that I felt free to march again. Whilst interviewing many who had served in Vietnam for my thesis, I discovered that this behaviour was typical.

For about a decade and a half (from 1972 until 1987) we were personae non grata. Then came the Welcome Home march, the song, and a change in the public perception. Unfortunately it was too late for some.

So now I march. 

This year I went to Sydney and marched there with two blokes I've known since June 1969, when we were marched into 5 Platoon, B Coy, 7 RAR. We went through six months of intensive training which culminated with a couple of weeks at the Jungle Training Centre at Canungra and a pre-embarkation exercise at Shoalwater Bay near Rockhampton.

Together we embarked for Vietnam on HMAS Sydney on 16th February 1970.

We served together through operations Finschhafen and Cung Chung, and all three of us were involved in an assault on a bunker system on 22nd April. B Coy took one KIA* and two WIA+ in that incident, and a soldier from 4 Platoon died of dehydration the day prior to the bunker contact.

You can read about it here.

Then, coincidentally we were all re-posted out of 5 platoon in June 1970, more or less simultaneously and for a variety of reasons driven fundamentally by manpower requirements which tended to decide the fate of most Nashos, another fact I discovered during my research.

We're all in our mid-seventies, so marching may not be possible for much longer, so I took the opportunity to travel to Sydney to march with them, probably for the last time.

There were only about thirty of us left to march from a unit that had seen thousands pass through its ranks between 1965 and 1972.

Perhaps, if there are no more wars, nobody will be left to march in the future.

I live in hope.

*Killed in Action

+Wounded in Action

The Forgotten Men

The Canberra billet which I guarded in 1970. Taken in 2006 with an extra floor added. Excuse the blurry shot. 

Between November 1964 and December 1972, 804286 twenty year-old Australian men registered for what was euphemistically called national service.  

Of these, 63735 had their birthdates drawn in one of the sixteen ballots and were enlisted into the Australian Army. They were conscripts, although that word is generally not used.

Perhaps the notion of conscription does not sit well with our national narrative. History would suggest that, which may explain the endurance of the euphemism. 

Of that conscripted group, a minority (15381) served in Vietnam. I was a member of that minority. The remaining forty thousand plus served out their two year obligation in Australia, Papua New Guinea, Borneo or Malaysia. This post is about those who didn't serve in Vietnam, and as a consequence are forgotten. They had no "Welcome Home " in 1987. Nobody wrote a song about them.

Those 63735 men had a number of things in common. They were taken away from their employment and income, their homes and families, and their reasonable expectations of a future on the basis of a lottery draw. Meanwhile their unballoted peers continued with their lives unmolested.

All shared recruit training at Singleton, Puckapunyal or Kapooka depending on their state of origin, but once posted to corps, they had very different experiences. Their postings frequently had them sent to bases great distances from their homes on the Australian mainland, and in many instances overseas. 

These overseas postings included Borneo (where two died) and Papua New Guinea (serving as 'Chalkies" - teachers) in Education Corps. Service in Borneo and PNG is not considered "warlike", so these men have no entitlement to benefits accrued through active service.

Towards the end of the Australian commitment, the period of the National Service obligation was reduced from two years to eighteen months. The National Service Termination Act 1973 used the "exceptional hardship" expedient to legally process this. Towards the end of the period of National Service, these soldiers had almost become an embarrassment. 

During my Vietnam service with 7 RAR in 1970, I was posted to Saigon for about ten days late in my tour to be part of a Saigon guard. My normal situation (when not patrolling on operations) was the ATF base at Nui Dat. These guards were routine, and involved serving Infantry personnel providing security at the Australian billet in Saigon, called the "Canberra". Infantry soldiers were flown to Saigon from the ATF base at Nui Dat. The billet was attacked  during the 1968 Tet Offensive when coincidentally 7 RAR was providing security during its first tour of Vietnam.

During that quite pleasant interlude, I learned a little about the conditions of those ADF members serving in Saigon. They slept in a comfortable bed in what was a middle class Vietnamese hotel, had their laundry done by Vietnamese workers, and ate food prepared for them in the hotel kitchen. They also received a Saigon allowance meant to cover the expense of living in a comparatively expensive environment. 

Compare this experience with a national serviceman posted to an infantry battalion in Borneo. For much of the posting this soldier would be sleeping on the ground, patrolling through jungle with weapon and full kit, and completing piquets at all hours of the night. The Chalkies serving in PNG would have experienced more comfortable conditions, but were still serving in challenging tropical conditions.

Yet the soldier who served in air conditioned ATF headquarters in Saigon and slept nightly in a secure guarded billet is entitled to all the benefits accruing to a soldier on operational service. 

Those who served in Borneo, Malaysia, New Guinea and at home in Australia do not.

That is, to say the least anomalous. 

It's time it was fixed. There's not much time left. These men, like me, are in their seventies.

One Website at a Time

 

Some of 5 Platoon B Coy June 1970

Regular readers of this blog will remember this post, which explained the fun I had setting the record straight about the "Volunteer Nasho" myth that had persisted for nearly fifty years at the time I encountered it.

The simple exercise of discerning and disseminating fact is essential if we are to tell the truth about our history, military or otherwise.

Truth-telling is, after all, the first step towards reconciliation, and I'm aware that there is still a way to go to to achieve real reconciliation amongst Vietnam veterans, given the comments I get whenever I post on the topic. Three years of research doesn't seem to make a difference to some of the enduring mythology. 

The barnacle metaphor springs to mind.

I'd written about the need for reconciliation before.

Last month I came across a page on the State Library of Queensland website devoted to national service. It regurgitated the old myth that national servicemen who served in Vietnam were for the most part volunteers. Once you ignore the logical impossibility that conscripts could be classified as volunteers, the next step is to consult the literature, something that I spent three years doing prior to my thesis.

I made phone and email contact with the library about a month ago, sending them my thesis, together with a reading list on the topic, much of which has been around for ten years at least.

Today on revisiting the site I found that the reference to "many" volunteers on the website has been altered to - 

The 1965 amendment to the Defence Act stated 'conscripts could be obliged to serve overseas' and in March 1966 then Prime Minister Holt announced, National Servicemen would be sent to Vietnam to fight in units of the Australian Regular Army. Consequently, most National Servicemen (Nashos) were not given the choice of active service once allocated to a regular army unit, especially infantry units. As a result, 2 died in Borneo and in the Vietnam War 210 were killed and more than 1200 were wounded. 

This is gratifying because the reference to infantry units not being given a choice is precisely what my interviews with Nashos revealed. Once posted to infantry, manpower was all that mattered to the army.

The courteous head librarian told me that they had relied on material from the National Service Association to provide content. I then contacted the NSA who told me that they had not updated their information for years, mainly because the people tasked with maintaining their website were infirm as a result of age.

So the myth has remained on the NSA website more out of neglect than malice, a very sad state of affairs.  

It's still there -

Most but not all units gave National Servicemen the choice of active service and most volunteered. 

So the next step in my quest is to contact the NSA and suggest that they rejig their website to reflect the historical reality. 

Everyone has to have at least one obsession. 

Wish me luck...

Update -

I posted this email to the NSA after many unsuccessful attempts to talk to them, with copies to the Australian War Memorial, and the Minister for Veterans' Affairs -

____________________________________________________________

Dear Sir

I draw your attention to the following statement on your history of national service as it refers to the second national service scheme on your website – 

 

 All Battalions were rotated through Vietnam between 1966 and 1971.  Most but not all units gave National Servicemen the choice of active service and most volunteered.  

 

This statement is misleading, especially the “most volunteered” reference, and is not based on fact. In the first place, national servicemen (including myself who served in 7RAR in Vietnam in 1970) were conscripts. We were in the army because our birthdates were drawn in the various national service ballots. If we had wanted to volunteer to fight in Vietnam, we could have done so by enlisting in the ARA.

Secondly, historians who have researched national service, including Mark Dapin, Jeffrey Grey, and Ben Morris (the latter a Vietnam veteran) have shown through their research that most units did not offer options regarding operational service. Once enlisted, we were members of the ARA and amendments to the National Service Act of 1965 specified that we were to be treated as such. My own research has made it clear that most national servicemen allocated to Infantry, were not given an option. There were examples of Nashos going directly from recruit training to battalion postings, in the knowledge that those battalions were likely to be deployed but describing that process as “volunteering” is an abuse of the English language. These men were in the army because they were conscripts, not volunteers. 

The best example of this practice was the fate of Stanley Larsson, a member of my unit who was killed in a mine incident on June 6^th, 1970. Reference to this incident is made on P 132 of my recently completed thesis. 

 The statement on your website should read - 

 All Battalions were rotated through Vietnam between 1966 and 1971. Occasionally, unit commanders gave National Servicemen the choice of avoiding active service, but this practice was in breach of the National Service Act and was discouraged at a political level. Most national servicemen simply made the best of their situation.

Whilst this history is not a good fit with the Anzac legend, it is the reality, and if you respect our service, especially those who gave their lives, you will tell the truth about it in your publications. Those who died are honoured by the truth, not convenient mythology.

 

Please acknowledge this email and correct your webpage.

 

Respectfully yours

XXXX

_____________________________________________________________

I'll keep you posted.

Chickenman Remembered

One of the very few entertaining aspects of serving in Vietnam was the opportunity to listen to episodes of Chickenman broadcast on American Forces Radio.

They were universally funny and a send-up of the genre of radio serials that had been popular both in the US and Australia throughout the fifties and sixties.

By the time I was in country, this genre of programming was no longer popular back home in both countries, but they enjoyed a resurgence amongst service personnel during the war. They were at the same time a reminder of home, and a bizarre diversion.

There was also an Australian radio station set up by members based in Vung Tau, which supplied news, sporting broadcasts and other reports from home. From memory, it didn't broadcast around the clock as the American station did, and was bereft of the "commercials" which punctuated the American broadcasts, which reminded GIs to fasten their buttons, take their anti-malarials, and secure parked vehicles, amongst other things. 

This broadcast coincidentally was made on the day I arrived in country aboard HMAS Sydney. 

You're probably familiar, gentle reader, with Robin Williams' Good Morning Vietnam.

We used to listen through earphones to AFN on transistors secreted in our basic pouches. It was tolerated, but not encouraged by our commanders. Listening without earphones was  a chargeable offence, as was listening (with earphones) on picquet.

The Americans were prone to playing radios at all times, even when patrolling in the case of some units.

 

Review - Our Vietnam War

 

Image courtesy ABC iView

This ABC programme has been broadcast on Tuesday nights for the last three weeks. It is also available on ABC iView.

It should be compulsory viewing for all Australian high school students, as it offers a comprehensive, factual and unbiased narrative of the conflict. It is also exquisitely made, featuring interviews with historians (some of whom served during the decade of the war), together with ex-service personnel, of both genders, and Vietnamese refugees. The music of the era provides a sound track, and contributes to an understanding of the time.

The interviews with people like Graham Edwards (ex-7RAR, who lost both legs in a mine incident in 1970), Harry Smith (D Coy commander Battle of Long Tan), Ashley Ekins (ex chief historian at the Australian War Memorial), Mark Dapin (author of The Nashos War and Australia's Vietnam: Myth vs History) and a couple of anti-war activists and Vietnamese refugees, provide an unrivalled cross section of recollections and perspectives.

The topic is covered comprehensively, beginning with the history of the French defeat and concluding with the long shadow created by the war in the lives of so many Australians.

I found it deeply moving, and would recommend it.

It can be found on ABC iView.

Here is a link to the trailer.

Comments closed.

Fifty Years On

 

The 523 who were lost.

I've just arrived back, gentle reader, from the commemoration in Canberra of the 50th anniversary of the end of the Australian commitment to Vietnam.

It was a very well-organised event, and the people who put the programme together achieved a fine balance between commemoration of the loss and sacrifice of those who were killed and wounded, and acknowledgement of the tragedy of the war.

The Canberra weather wasn't cooperative. We had about ten minutes of bright sunshine after the ceremony which was mostly conducted under rainy skies, but then the clearing westerlies turned up. I swear you could feel the snow on the shoulders of that wind.

I was able to link up with a few of the 5 platoon bunch, but we're getting a bit thin on the ground. All of us have age-related maladies, but that didn't spoil the fellowship. Sadly, it's probably the last reunion.

I made the mistake of booking into a caravan park outside of town, which meant I had to drive in and out. This put the kibosh on sharing more than one or two beers with the crew, but there you go.

There was a well-compiled video of the proceedings, and I've included it here.

It's well worth watching.

Comments closed.

   

What Has Changed?

The woodcutters we encountered

The controversy about ADF behaviour in Afghanistan simply won't go away, with Jacqui Lambie's referral of the Australian Defence Force officers to the International Criminal Court over alleged war crimes. 

 Whether or this is going to have any useful outcome is doubtful, but it has certainly elevated the issue on the international scene, and undoubtedly made senior commanders uncomfortable. 

Perhaps the soldiers involved will see it as an opportunity to bring these senior commanders to account, and through that, be granted some vindication. It has always seemed passing strange that they were blissfully unaware of the alleged misconduct. 

Because my 1970 experience with 5 Platoon included mostly long distance patrols and ambushes in the Tan Ru, a long way from any villages, there were very few encounters with civilians, so I vividly remember this rare one. We were on a TAOR* in March 1970, when we came across a party of woodcutters in what was a free fire zone, in other words, an area where civilians were prohibited from access. They were using a very overloaded truck and when we caught sight of them, attempted to drive away from us, as they were in and on the vehicle, and our patrol was obviously on foot.

The patrol commander shot off a magazine of M-16 in the air, and they got the message and stopped. We then spent the rest of the day guarding them until the local authorities got out of bed and answered our request to have them vetted. This took all day, so we spent hours with them. They were a mix of women, old men, and quite a few children.

We treated them well, making sure they had water, and put up hootchies to protect them from the sun. This treatment was an expectation of everybody in our unit. I can't vouch for what happened outside 7 RAR, but maltreatment of civilians was not part  of our behaviour.

Some of this may have been a result of what had been drilled into us through the soldier's handbook. I've included scans of the text below.

This material was taken from the excellent From Nui Dat to Discharge (Adrian Taylor & Karl Metcalf), April 2020, which is a compilation of material collected from members of 4 platoon B Coy, 7RAR. 

It makes interesting reading. Some extracts -

You must observe these rules whether or not the enemy does likewise...

And 

Remember always treat your prisoners in a humane manner...

And 

All the persons in your hands, whether civilians or battle captives, must be protected against violence, insults, curiosity, and reprisals of any kind...

Now I'm not going to pretend that there were never any incidents of mistreatment of prisioners in Vietnam by ADF personnel, but I never saw it, and when it did happen, a blind eye was not turned. It was also rare. It was certainly light years from what is alleged in Afghanistan. 

So what has changed in 50+ years?

I'll venture some suggestions, gentle reader.

The first is a growth (probably cancerous) in our military culture that there exists such a notion as a "warrior class", for whom the normal rules of conduct do not apply. This culture seems to have unfiltrated OR's (and some NCOs) in the SAS regiment. The results are clear to see. Apart from the unfortunate Afghans who encountered it, usually to their cost, it has killed a lot of Afghan veterans who were traumatised by it, and have taken their own lives since. It is a sick and sad culture.

The second is the progression to an all volunteer ADF. 

Conscription, with all its evils (particularly when it is selective and not universal) leavens the culture of any unit by including a cross section of individuals who don't necessarily see military service as a career choice. Professional military units always attract a sprinkling of psychopaths seduced by the notion that they are free to kill, and if not weeded out after enlistment, they can do enormous damage to the culture of any unit.

At least the all volunteer force deployed in Afghanistan included sufficient well balanced individuals with backbone who blew the whistle on the few psychopaths who did all the damage.

The question remains - why were the senior commanders unaware?

*Task Force Area of Responsibility - Routine overnight patrols out to Line Alpha from Nui Dat,.

BRS and the ANZAC Myth

Pic courtesy Canberra Times

It's been a little quiet here lately, gentle reader.

A 30,000 word thesis deadline was hanging over my head, which has now been met, so back to normal posting..... 

 The media is wall-to-wall Ben Roberts-Smith, at the moment. It sells well as a story because it brings together so much of what causes outrage, and outrage always sells.

Personally, I feel some sympathy for Roberts-Smith, not because I believe he has been accused unjustly, I simply don't know, but because he's collateral in the culture wars. Soldiers are always collateral, of course, as any Vietnam veteran will tell you. 

 There are so many aspects of this issue which are tragic. The rate of suicide amongst Australian veterans of Afghanistan is the first aspect of the tragedy. Then there's the issue of the reputations of the ADF and the SAS. 

When I was in what we called the "Funny Country", the SAS were held in awe. We had little to do with them, and they were largely invisible to friend and foe alike at the time, and they would always avoid a fight if possible. 

 Fighting wasn't really their role. They were essentially involved in collecting intelligence, and they were very good at it. 

They seem to have been used in a very different way in Afghanistan which brought them into contact with civilians. Some units seemed to have gone feral. This may have come about because their own culture has always seen them as a race apart and they made up rules as they went along. It's difficult to understand how higher command turned a blind eye to this, but it's apparent, by the outcome, that they did. 

Accountability needs to go all the way up the line, and this doesn't seem to be happening. 

 Then there's the ANZAC myth, as distinct from the ANZAC tradition. The myth holds that Australians in uniform can do no wrong, and if they are fighting for King and Country, they're somehow excused from accountability. The problem with this notion is, that if accepted, it brings our fighting men and women down to the same level as those who would use terrorism and intimidation to achieve their ends. That simply won't wash. 

Heaven help anyone who is critical of aspects of the myth.

The best aspects of the ANZAC tradition uphold compassion, a fair go, and the capacity not to take ourselves too seriously. The last aspect is what makes us so different from the Americans, something which was very obvious in Vietnam all those years ago. 

 The media need to let go of this story, as it harms all those involved, especially the soldiers who served, and their families. There's a whiff of stereotyping wrapped up in this, redolent of the "baby-killer" meme which did the rounds post Vietnam. This doesn't mean the media shouldn't report it, but they should not exploit it. That seems to be something that local media can't avoid.

Accountability needs to be applied, but doing so in the full glare of publicity, to sell clics and newspapers will do more harm than good, and enough harm has been done already, both in Afghanistan and back home in Australia.