Long Tan

I've been struggling to post something relevant to Long Tan. Working 500km from home (Charleville and Cunnamulla) has delayed this somewhat. Blogging on the go works in theory, but you need to get all your ducks in a row.

The duck called reliable wireless networking has been missing.

Surely everything that could have been written about Long Tan has been written. Nothing new can add to the stark simplicity that a company of diggers overcame impossible numerical odds and held out against a determined and well-organized enemy until relieved.

This year, the media story has been the awards. Somewhere embedded in this narrative is a metaphor for the war. The shameful reality that it took 45 years for these diggers to be recognized says it all. Our national understanding of this conflict improves with time, but it still has a way to go.

I should know. No soldier's service should be used to abuse or denigrate, but if you have the temerity to identify as a veteran opposing the political orthodoxy, that is precisely what happens.

The first time I saw Long Tan was at the beginning of our second operation in April 1970, when we brewed up after getting off the trucks and before setting out on a night insertion into the AO.

I remember thinking at the time of Frank Topp who was killed in the first ten minutes of the battle. He was attending Downlands college in 1961 when I arrived as a homesick 13 year old over 1000 kms from home. Frank hailed from Helidon in the Lockyer Valley. Home for me was North Eton near Mackay in Central Queensland.  In those days this boarding school was a pretty tough environment, and Frank behaved a bit like a big brother. For reasons I've never really understood, he was good to me back then. Perhaps he sensed that we were both from the wrong side of the tracks, different from the sons of landed gentry who comprised a fair whack of the enrollment.

He enlisted not long after leaving school, and ended up in RAEME. After a few years of service he transferred to Infantry, and arrived in Vietnam as a Reo in July 1966. He was posted to 6RAR a fortnight before Long Tan  and joined D Coy on the morning of the battle.

The last time I was at Long Tan was March 2006. It's a haunting place - full of the ghosts of brave young men.

Lest we forget.

One Picture....

Is worth a thousand words....

(Courtesy Pure Poison).

Why?

Probably the last thing you’d expect on a sunny Saturday morning in leafy Toowoomba…….

I was driving along by Lake Annand in the MX5, when suddenly – Bang!

Half a brick landed on the bonnet about 40cms ahead of the bottom of the windscreen. By the time I’d stopped and figured out what happened, the perpetrators had scarpered.

There were perpetrators -  the bloke sitting on his front veranda heard the bang, came out to discover its origin, and told me about the kids who lob things at cars and hide under a pedestrian bridge across the lake.

We (he and I) went looking, but they were long gone – probably just as well. The result of that same half brick being jammed somewhere obvious would not have been pretty.

I reported it to the police (this will help with the insurance claim). They didn’t seem to be at all surprised. Apparently it’s pretty common.

It could have been worse. I could have been driving with the top down – could have worn the brick in my face. It could have landed 50cms further back and gone through the windscreen, or 60cms further back and landed on the soft top. MX5 convertable tops are pretty sturdy, but I don’t think they’re brick proof.

As to why? Possibly someone’s been watching coverage of the British riots and was inspired. The cost of a new bonnet (aluminium on the MX5) is about the same as a one-way fare to Blighty. Aluminium is beyond most local panel-beaters.

I’d cheerfully deport them to the UK, reversing what happened two hundred years ago.

Boulders in Cunnamulla

Boulders

I don’t usually review restaurants, but here goes –

I was working in Cunnamulla this week and found myself and co-worker looking for somewhere to have breakfast.

We drove around the town centre (doesn’t take long) and saw a large building on a corner, with the sign “Boulders”.

The building has been carefully renovated, and looks as if it could have been a cinema – I may be wrong. It certainly has an imposing front leaving plenty of space for sign writing. The work is thoughtful and thorough, not your usual slapdash effort. It must have taken a lot of time and plenty of ladders.

Inside was a very large airy space, decorated with some interesting and historic photos of life in that part of the world. The décor was a little less in your face than the usual out this way, and obviously chosen by somebody with a talent for this kind of thing.

Good Tucker ("Big Breakfast")

A youngish couple run the show, and their friendly and cheerful demeanour adds to the experience. The coffee was great and there was a good range of eats, including cakes, for a different time of the day.

There is a sign at the counter advises you that you may have to wait a while (for food) but we didn’t. Even if there was a wait, it would have been enjoyable, as the large picture windows give a wide view of downtown Cunnamulla. There was plenty of activity to observe on this (Tuesday) morning – that of Cunnamulla waking up. It happens slowly

Cunnamulla waking up

There are a couple of restored church pews at the front, and that was were we sat, as the sun came in through the window and warmed us up nicely (5 degrees in Cunnamulla that morning). The food was well prepared and presented, and prices were very reasonable.

Apparently Chai is available - I didn't ask for it. My eldest daughter's measure of a good cafe is one that serves Chai, so she'd give it the seal of approval.

Hopefully there will be enough Grey Nomad traffic to help it prosper. It deserves to.

Automotive Authenticity

In the Old Dart you can buy a "new" MGB off the showroom floor.

The question is, of course, why would you?

I’ve driven MGBs, and they’re characterized by heavy steering, leaks, and dodgy mechanical reliability.

The Mazda MX5 offers everything the MGB did, but it’s watertight and reliable.

This may be the solution. These things come with MX5 engines and trannies. The whole body shell is beefed up, and they’re trimmed with state of the art materials.

The question remains, however – why would you buy one?

You can get a new MX5 for less than half the ask in the UK.

If you really want an MG, just buy an MX5 and some octagon badges, and substitute them for the Mazda logos. A good panel beater would do this for a couple of hundred dollars.

The MG Rover trademark is owned by the Chinese these days, so authenticity is relative in 2011.

Small Dog

Sunny Dog

This is my daughter’s small dog.

Her name is classified.

She was a birthday gift when our second daughter was eight. Daughter is now 19, so in dog years, the pup is now 77.

She doesn’t show it, still demonstrating as much energy and general feistiness as she did when she was younger.

She lives in solitary splendour now, as her long time companion (a Red Heeler) died of Lymphoma five years ago. They had a comfortable relationship. Occasionally, this one would make a nuisance of herself by prancing around the older dog in a play posture. He’d put up with this for a few minutes, and then would bark once, very loudly in her ear.

Mostly, she’d get the message and wander off to find a comfortable gonking spot.

As daughter is studying and working in the Big Smoke, my bride and I are now managed by the dog. She is very little trouble, although she has a strange habit of barking at the wind.

She has her uses. She found the rat in the car the other day, and takes me on a walk daily when I’m not out west working.

She is as dumb as a bag of hammers, but has shown us recently that she is still capable of learning new tricks.

My sister has a Blue Heeler, and we look after her when he and her hubby are holidaying. Last Month sister and hubby headed off to Paris for 60^th Birthday celebrations (sister’s), so we looked after the Heeler.

The Heeler has a habit of rolling over to have her belly scratched. After watching this a few times, small dog took it up as a behaviour. It works every time.

She's trained us well.

Caloundra Memorial Walkway

One of the many plaques - WW1 digger

Wandering around Caloundra a few weeks ago was a pleasant exercise in nostalgia, but it also revealed a fitting way of honouring war service.

There is a picturesque walk running along the Caloundra Esplanade. From a point about halfway along this path, the Golden Beach RSL have instituted a memorial walkway.

Brass plaques describing the service of hundreds of soldiers, sailors and airmen are embedded in the pavement. I’ve seen something similar in the streets of Roma.

It’s an interesting way to commemorate service, in the sense that each plaque is separate and distinct. Traditional memorials provide a list, which to me is a little impersonal, although it’s obviously the most practical way of doing it.

My dad, like many other young Aussies of the time, enlisted in the RAAF shortly after the bombing of Darwin. He wanted to be posted to aircrew, but ended up as a radio fitter after it was discovered that he had sinuses completely unsuited to flying in unpressurised aircraft.

My parents had been married only a few years at the time, and they must have found the long separation (1942 – 1945) pretty difficult. Dad was posted to squadrons in Port Moresby and Lae and spent his war fitting and repairing radios in Kittyhawks and Beauforts.

Dad's Medals

Mum ran his small school whilst he was away, and as a married woman could only be a temporary employee. She was obliged to resign when dad came back.

Dad loved Caloundra enough to buy a house there in the sixties, and we spent some great times as a family using it as a weekender.

It struck me as fitting to have a plaque installed on the walkway, as the only other place at which Dad’s service is recognised is on his grave. He died in 1991.

My five siblings also think it’s a good idea.