On August 17th, 2006, when federal parliament was commemorating the 40th anniversary of the Battle of Long Tan, a letter was read to the chamber of the House of Representatives by Kim Beazley, then Leader of the Opposition.
It was written by the Member for Cowan, Graham Edwards, a Vietnam veteran, who lost both legs in a mine incident in Vietnam in May 1970. At the time of his wounding, Graham Edwards was a member of 7 RAR, the same unit in which I served as a conscript in Vietnam in 1970.
The reading followed a speech from Prime Minister John Howard, apologising for the way Vietnam veterans were treated on their return to Australia, such treatment being somewhat alleviated by the public reception at the 1987 Welcome Home march. The march on 3rd October was organised by the veteran community, with the support of the then Hawke government.
The 2006 apology came thirty-four years after the end of Australia’s commitment. For most veterans of the war, the march in Sydney in 1987 coming as it did nineteen years earlier, was much more significant than the apology in Canberra.
It is worth noting that The New Zealand parliament also recorded a bipartisan Crown apology to their veterans (none of whom were conscripts) two years later, on 28th May 2008.
Kim Beazley’s reading of Graham Edwards’ letter, in its entirety in the Hansard, is reproduced here –
I have just been advised that the Prime Minister will only allow one speaker on this important statement before the house today.
I thank you for the opportunity to be our speaker, but I believe that our recognition of the service, sacrifice and suffering of Vietnam veterans should rightly come from you, as our Leader.
I would however be pleased if you could perhaps consider just a couple of things.
I noted that at the Launch of the book “Vietnam Our War—Our Peace”, the Minister for Veterans’ Affairs offered an apology to Vietnam Veterans for the actions of all who opposed the war.
Kim, many good Australians opposed that war and not all who opposed the war took it out on the troops. My father for instance strongly opposed the war. I remember too that Senator John Wheeldon, a former Labor Minister for Repatriation, was a bitter opponent of the war but he was incredibly compassionate toward the individual veterans and strongly supportive of their needs.
Equally it should be said that not all who supported the war supported the troops, and even to this day many Vietnam Veterans refuse to join the RSL because of the treatment they received on their return home.
Had I the opportunity to speak today I would have taken the time to publicly forgive the person from my mother’s church in Scarborough who wrote an anonymous letter to my mother saying she hoped I died as a result of my wounds, as I was a killer.
I could not have found it in my heart to say those words a few years ago but it is time to move on.
Kim today is not a day to enter into the divisive issues surrounding Australia’s involvement in that war.
Today is a day when our Federal Parliament should honour our Vietnam Veterans, recognise their service and say to them that they did a good job in the best tradition of the Anzacs.
It is also a time when we should remember the sacrifice of those who did not come home at all.
It is a day when we should remember the Regulars and the National Service men who confronted their enemy on his home ground and who never took a backward step.
To say to them, our veterans, that we understand the difficulties of those who suffer Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and that we recognise and respect the love and loyalty of the families of veterans, particularly the wives, the partners and the children.
Today is a day when we should say we are proud of our Vietnam veterans. A day when we honour and recognise their sacrifice, their service and their suffering.
I think it is also a time to reflect on the horror of war, the lasting trauma of those involved and the terror and suffering of innocent civilians caught in the devastation of war.
I just also want to thank you for your support in Government of the Welcome Home Parade. I know there are many veterans in Australia who would not have made it to that incredibly warm and emotional parade if you had not pitched in to ensure the support of defence and other government agencies to get them there and home again.
Kim, can I just say those who served Vietnam either on the ground, in the air or on the waters served as a team.
We would enhance our support today if once again we could become a team and work together to support each other.
Kim, I said earlier that it is time to move on.
Last night I had dinner with the Vietnamese Ambassador. As we left the table, he said to me that both our countries must look to the future.
I agree. I would wish him and his children, indeed all the children of the world that which was most elusive during the last century—peace.
In closing Kim, I want to say I am proud to have served my nation and proud of all who served with me.
I am proud of my mates and the contribution they made to Australia.
I take pride in their mateship.
I don’t need anyone’s apology for that.
I have included the full text of this letter, as I intend to trace the references that Graham Edwards made throughout its text, and to use them to outline what has been learned (and not learned) through the Australian experience during the war in Vietnam and conflicts since.
I have recently had the privilege to interview Graham Edwards, and consequently have a clearer understanding of these references.
Reflecting on the story of another member of 7 RAR, Joseph Gilewicz, a member of my rifle section in Vietnam in 1970, who was shot by police in a siege situation at his farm at Pelverata near Hobart on 16 July 1991 is a tragic but revealing insight into the plight of many veterans. The Tasmanian State Coroner had found in 1992 that the shooting was justifiable homicide.
The first time this incident had an impact in parliament was when an unsuccessful attempt was made in the Senate on 25th November 1999 by Senator Bob Brown to have documents describing the incident tabled, with a view to the calling of a Royal Commission into the incident. These documents had been compiled by journalist Paul Tapp, during research for a book he wrote about the incident and its aftermath.
Paul Tapp is a Vietnam veteran (a national serviceman) who had also served with 7 RAR from 27th April until 14th August 1967 during its first tour of Vietnam. On the basis of Tapp’s manuscript, and the evidence of a police whistle-blower, Stan Hanuszewicz, (also a Vietnam veteran), a subsequent Commission of Inquiry (the Mahony report) was eventually held in 2000 which again exonerated the Tasmanian Police.
The point of including Joe Gilewicz’s story in this essay is to illustrate the tragic consequences to veterans and their families of the trauma suffered by operational service, and the bonds created and cemented between veterans by this shared experience.
My intention is also to help in an understanding of the impact of operational service on young men in that conflict, the widely differing effects these experiences had on them and their families, and the often random (and sometimes tragic) nature of the outcomes.
I also seek to puncture some of the generalisations about Vietnam veterans that persist in the public consciousness, fifty plus years after the war. Lastly, I wish to honour these men and their service, and to ty to make a small positive contribution to the plethora of literature that has emerged in Australia about the war in Vietnam.
Joseph Gilewicz was the son of Polish immigrants who survived the horrors of the Nazi invasion of their home country and arrived in Australia after the end of the Second World War. Joseph (I knew him in my platoon as “Joe”) was born in Berlin on 1st September 1948. That date was not drawn in the eighth National Service ballot held on 13th September 1968 (drawn birth dates were September 5, 9, 12, 14, 22, 23, 24, 26), so Joe was a volunteer national serviceman.
Whilst I spent a great deal of time with Joe during the first half of my tour of Vietnam in 1970, I do not remember him ever explaining his reasons for volunteering. He was a conscientious soldier, often being employed as forward scout when we were patrolling. He had been promoted to Lance Corporal by the time the battalion finished its tour.
I lost track of Joe post discharge and heard no more about him until another ex-member of my section wrote to me in 1991 telling me about his tragic and controversial death in a police siege. Subsequently, another Tasmanian Vietnam veteran, Stan Hanuszewicz, who was a police ballistics expert at the time of the incident, became a whistle-blower in reference to the circumstances of the police conduct during and after the shooting.
He claimed that he was asked by a senior officer to plant evidence meant to indicate that Joe had fired his shotgun at police before being fatally shot. Stan Hanuszewicz, like Joe, was also of Polish heritage, and had served two tours of Vietnam as a regular soldier, the first in 1 RAR as an infantryman in 1965/66 and the second as a tank commander.
On his second tour, Stan had rank of sergeant in C Squadron, 1st Armoured Regiment, and A Squadron, 3rd Cavalry Regiment in 1971. In 1991, Stan visited a lawyer and made the whistleblower allegations.
He believed a senior officer wanted to make it appear that Joe had shot at police snipers. This claim was denied by the officer concerned. Stan Hanuszewicz had made a similar claim at the coronial inquiry into the death in 1991, but the coroner had dismissed him as a witness of truth. Despite the evidence of a cover-up, the commission found that Joe’s death was “justifiable homicide”.
Stan has never made his motives in taking the step to become a whistle-blower public, but it is likely that his regard for the reputation of a fellow veteran and an understanding of his suffering were instrumental in taking what must have been a courageous step given his position as a career police officer, and the opprobrium that it caused amongst his police colleagues.
His background has some similarities with Joe Gilewicz, given that he was born in a concentration camp in Germany and his parents emigrated to Tasmania in the early 1950s. He also had a great deal of experience with national servicemen, having spent three years training them at 2 RTB Puckapunyal prior to returning to Vietnam in 1971 as a tank commander. Stan described himself as “persona non grata” with the Tasmanian Police Force after the two Gilewicz inquires in his 2008 interview with Nick Fletcher from the Australian War Memorial, and he subsequently retired from the force.
The episode was put to bed, as far as Tasmanian authorities were concerned, by this reference added as a postscript to the Department of Police and Public Safety 1999 – 2000 Annual Report -
The report of Commissioner Mahoney into the death of Joe Gilewicz has reiterated the findings of the coroner in 1992, that the officer who fired the fatal shot acted appropriately under all the given circumstances.
Commissioner Mahoney accepted the fact the shooting occurred in the circumstances found by Coroner Matterson and rejected various scenarios put forward since then.
Joe Gilewicz, Stan Hanuszewicz and Paul Tapp, all have one experience in common.
They are (or were) Vietnam veterans. The last two worked together to right a perceived wrong for the reputation of the first, and his family. They may have been unsuccessful, but their intention, brought out of a clear understanding of a common experience, was obvious.
Graham Edwards is one of a small number of parliamentarians who were also Vietnam veterans.
This small cohort includes the late Peter White, Kevin Newman, and Tim Fischer, as well as survivors like Rod Atkinson and John Bradfield. Graham Edwards’ enduring strong support and advocacy for Vietnam veterans has always been obvious since he has been a public figure. The reasons why individuals enter parliament are probably similar, in that those who do so are seeking to improve the lot of the communities from which they emerge.
In Graham Edward’s case that community was initially wounded Vietnam veterans.
Prior to Vietnam, he had worked for five years as a railway fireman before enlisting in the Australian Regular Army in 1968. He went to Vietnam as a member of the assault pioneer platoon of 7th Battalion, Royal Australian Regiment, where he had the misfortune to trigger an M16 mine on 12th May 1970, near Route 326, between Long My and Tam Phuoc. This resulted in the amputation of both legs, and the three weeks later, he was flown home to Australia.
He recalls that time –
It was an emotional time, a really confronting time, but it was a very warm time too, to finally come into the embrace of a loved one and my family and to be reunited but never ever the way I ever wanted to be reunited, and I still feel a sense of emotion, when I see homecomings of other troops today and I see them walking off the ship or walking off an aeroplane, and walking into the arms of a loved one and I would have given anything, even today, for that sort of a homecoming.
He found that both the army and the Department of Veterans’ Affairs was unsure about how to deal with wounded veterans during the Vietnam era and puts this haphazard treatment down to the fact that, in contrast to the situation in previous wars, wounded soldiers returned in an irregular and interrupted fashion and were regarded as problems rather than people.
His response to this was to fiercely throw himself into community activities which he says worked for him both physically and mentally. He describes channelling the anger he often felt into positive outcomes for others, especially veterans. Over time he met every challenge head on and, driven by his work with veterans' welfare, moved into politics, serving first in State parliament and later with distinction in the Federal Parliament of Australia.
I interviewed Graham Edwards a short time ago, in the hope that his responses to some simple questions might give some insights into the points he made in the letter read to the Australian parliament on 18th August 2006.
My first question was “What do you believe has been learned, or not learned, by the Australian experience in Vietnam?”
His response referred to how Australia came to be involved in both Vietnam in 1965 and Iraq in 2003. He reminded me that the Australian commitment to the Coalition of the Willing in Iraq was based on poor intelligence – or more accurately – a lie, and that this was a precise rerun of how the country became involved in Vietnam.
He reminded me that Prime Minister Howard had announced on March 18, 2003, that Saddam Hussein had weapons of mass destruction and was prepared to use them, and that this had been used as a justification for the commitment of an Australian Task Force.
The cabinet announcement read –
The government has authorised the chief of the Australian Defence Force, General (Peter) Cosgrove, to place the Australian forces already deployed in the Gulf region as part of any US-led coalition operation that may take place in the future, directed in accordance with existing authority under UN resolutions to disarm Iraq.
Grahame Edwards likened this statement to Prime Minister Menzies alleging on 29th April 1965 on the floor of the Australian parliament that the government of South Vietnam had requested the involvement of Australian troops.
In the first instance (Iraq), history clearly revealed that those weapons were non-existent, and in the second (South Vietnam), that a very reluctant South Vietnamese government was pressured through both US and Australian diplomatic channels to make a request. It took until 1971, with the release of the Pentagon Papers, for his successor as Prime Minister, William McMahon, to acknowledge this fact.
Another question referred to the way in which veterans of the war in Afghanistan have been treated in direct comparison to the treatment of Vietnam veterans. Graham Edward’s response was unequivocal.
He contrasted the treatment of veterans of Afghanistan with those from Vietnam and described it as much improved. He explained how the separation of the rights and wrongs of war from the treatment of veterans was so significant, something not apparent after the political and social division that lingered after Vietnam. He described his action as President of the West Australian branch of the RSL in inviting an Afghan veteran to lead the ANZAC Day parade through Perth, and the symbolic significance of this.
Again, this recognition of younger veterans by their forebears was unfortunately not a feature of the treatment of Vietnam veterans by the RSL in the sixties and seventies.
Something still not completely understood and acknowledged is the impact of Post Traumatic Disorder, as evidenced by the incidence of suicide amongst veterans of Afghanistan.
Graham Edwards referred to this problem, noting that it is still often underestimated and misunderstood, and referred to
Dr Peter Yule’s recent monograph. Peter Yule makes note of the Joe Gilewicz tragedy in this comprehensive and compassionate work as follows –
His severe PTSD meant that Joseph Gilewicz had stormy interpersonal relationships, seen clearly with his long-term de facto partner. In early July 1991, Gilewicz made violent threats to his partner and her family, leading to a siege at his home. Early in the morning of 2 July Gilewicz was shot dead by a police marksman. An inquest found that the shooting was reasonable and justified.
To quote Grahame Edwards in my interview –
Everybody comes home changed.
He argues that the many “rotations” (tours of operational duty) that soldiers experienced in Afghanistan are a major factor in suicides, and that despite the post-Vietnam experience, when the norm was two rotations at most, and a large proportion of veterans have been diagnosed with PTSD, the lessons still have not been learned.
Finally, it is worth revisiting the 2006 speech that introduced this article, and to analyse its relevance sixteen years later.
In his speech Graham Edwards referred to several surviving cliches that adhere like barnacles to any discussion of our Vietnam experience.
Prominent amongst them is the notion that the soldiers, upon return, were blamed for the war. What is closer to the truth is that the veterans were readily identifiable and may have become a target for hostility with some as a result. However, as pointed out in his speech, many who opposed the war nevertheless supported the soldiers.
Graham Edward’s reference to his father resonates in my experience. My father was very much opposed to the war, something which frequently brought him into conflict with our local parish priest. On the other hand, the notion that not all who supported the war supported the soldiers, holds true in my memory, after an experience at a polling booth in the 1975 federal election when a Coalition booth worker abused me when I told him I was a Vietnam veteran.
Graham Edwards’ reference in his speech to PTSD and the effect this has on their families is also significant. But what was for me most impactful in his speech was his appeal for reconciliation, both between those in Australia who had very opposing attitudes to the war, and between Australians and Vietnamese fifty years after it ended.
The memory of Joe Gilewicz and other victims of this war is honoured by reconciliation, not bitterness. As the poet J. S. Manifold reflected in 1945 after a different war –
This is not sorrow, this is work:
I build a cairn of words over a silent man,
My friend John Learmonth whom the Germans killed.
Joe Gilewicz, and the other five hundred Australian soldiers who died in Vietnam, can be regarded as “silent men”. If we understand, fifty years later, the truth about their experience, rather than confecting a rationalising mythology, we respect their sacrifice, and have the best opportunity to learn the lessons of that sacrifice to achieve peace and reconciliation for ourselves and our children.
