Inspiration

It's been an interesting week. I spent Monday to Friday traveling around my largest circuit which took me 700 km west. The work is largely about supporting students with physical impairments, and some of it involves visiting the families where these children live, particularly when they're very small, so that plans can be set in motion to make whatever adjustments are necessary to allow their access to school. I've covered over 2500km this week.

Because it's Queensland, the schools are almost universally built on stumps, accessed by stairways. This is a problem for kids in wheelchairs. One of my jobs is to write access audits for the principals so that they have the information they need to plan for these students. Often, because of financial planning issues, the reports need to be available many years before enrollment. So I try to make an assessment of the student-to-be well in advance of actual enrollment, and often the children are as young as three.

On Thursday, I visited the home of a three year old girl with an undiagnosed condition. She is a beautiful child, but requires around the clock care. She is tube-fed, and still doesn't sleep through the night. She is delightfully responsive, mostly cheerful and loved dearly by her mum and dad who live on a very remote cattle and sheep property accessed by a road that is impassable after a few showers of rain.

Her mother has done a fantastic job in setting up learning programs for her, ably assisted by a visiting support teacher who spends a few hours with her every week. It takes about two hours to get to the property from the nearest town, and the nearest (very small) school is about an hour's drive to the south.

There is support from health and disability agencies, but the support teacher is the only professional who actually visits her home. To access therapy (very important for this child), the mother has to take her to a health clinic. Routinely, she has to travel the 600km to Brisbane to access the range of specialist services necessary.

This is by no means an unusual situation. The devotion and sheer grit demonstrated by her parents in ensuring she lives the best quality of life possible is inspirational, but not unusual in rural communities. Her mother simply hasn't had a break in three years, since her little girl was born. She dismisses this with a philosophical shrug – for her it just isn't an issue.

On the day I was there, her dad was out meulsing, but he came in for lunch, and after a quick cleanup (meulsing is a messy activity), he and his two brothers sat down with his wife and the visitors (the support teacher and I) to have lunch. There ensued a lively conversation, and one of the issues discussed was executive remuneration. Given that lack of public funding is often given as a rationale for lack of services in the bush, it occurred, as a passing thought, how much difference the injection of some private money might make to this situation. The parents could, for example, get some respite. They could also employ someone to run a stimulation programme with this little girl so that she might develop some language skills. She's certainly showing some strong pre-communicative behaviours.

I wonder if any of the Masters of the Universe receiving packages in excess of say, 10 million per annum, spare a thought for people in these situations? I wonder whether there is any angst associated with these obscene amounts?

I guess not – Australian Execs aren't noted for philanthropy.

In any case, I find the selfless love demonstrated by these families inspirational, and you can't put a price on that.

Review of 1942

This week's review is 1942 by Bob Wurth.

I have always been fascinated by this period of our history. This probably developed from my childhood in North Queensland, and my dad's occasional stories about his time in the RAAF in New Guinea. Listening to him, it was abundantly clear to me that many Australians genuinely feared a Japanese invasion, and living in the area which at that time was considered to be under great threat also focused my interest.

There has been historical disagreement about whether an invasion of this country was intended at the time. I won't spoil any reading of 1942 for you, except to say that different elements of the Japanese military hierarchy held different ideas about invasion.

The other contending views about this dangerous time relate to the role of the Americans.

Wurth's view of this is interesting in that he describes a strong personal relationship between Macarthur and Curtin which he concludes influenced American tactics at the time. He takes a different and refreshing look at American motives, exposes some disagreement between the military and political arms of the US administration, and sees Macarthur as an ally for Curtin in his disagreements with Churchill.

This is rivetting stuff, and some of it is bound to send some of the more extreme right-wing interpreters into meltdown. Wurth's conclusion about war in general, and Japanese suffering, in particular, will raise hackles –

Japan's war cost the lives of 17501 Australians and millions of others. How many more, though, had the brash captains and the bellicose admirals of the Inland Sea had their irrational way?

Of all the foibles, war is the worst, equaled only by ignorance and disinclination to discover the truth of it.

"I'm fed up to the ears with old men dreaming up wars for young men to die in."

George McGovern.

After the rage generated by my review of Paul Ham's article, it appears my lack of condescension to the reigning historical orthodoxy has already caused deep offence.

Wurth's research gives the story life and authenticity. It also reveals that very strong opinions and old grudges are still held in Japan over the course of events. He spent a lot of time in and around the Hashirajima anchorage, where the great ships of the Japanese fleet found refuge, and thoroughly analyzed Senshi Sosho, the Japanese official war history series on the Pacific campaign.

The book is available in soft cover at good newsagents. It's a great way to spend $34.

I'll be travelling with work this week (Roma, Morven, Charleville, Quilpie, Cunnamulla and Eulo), so will be at the mercy of Nomadnet to respond to comment, but I'll do my best.

Reviewing "Paul Ham on War"

It's time for another review – this one is looking at an article in the Weekend Australian Magazine of October 4 – 5, 2008.

I'm a fan of Ham's, having read both "Vietnam, the Australian War" and "Kokoda ". I like his work because it is a combination of thoroughly researched and objective material, with reflections based on the experience of soldiers. He lays out context with an attention to detail unsurpassed in anything else I've read. His reflections are never mawkish, but cut like a knife through the jingoism and faux nationalism which is unfortunately a feature of literature about war and conflict.

This article is no exception. I read it as a rationalization of his approach to the subject. He talks about the total impact of military conflict on all involved, and widens the perspective of the reader beyond the conventional guts and glory narrative we're used to. There is also a clear message about the relationship between the soldier and the politicians and the nation who send them off to fight. He makes a very clear and simple conclusion that resonates with my experience –

Australians' newfound enthusiasm for our martial past often fails to consider the dreadful context of a soldier's self-sacrifice, and cleanses the act in a mawkish celebration of civilian conceptions of war as "good triumphing over evil", or "fighting to defend the realm, king and country". Most soldiers scorn these interpretations: "We were fighting for our lives and the lives of our mates" seems to be the most common thread that binds men in battle.

He makes particular reference to Vietnam, and makes a strong point that connects it to Iraq and Afghanistan –

Nor is it useful to see the Vietnam War as a mere setback in the Cold War. As one Australian academic stated: "It is easier now to think of Vietnam not as a war that was lost but as a losing battle within a bigger Cold War struggle that was won." It maybe easy; it is also simplistic and dangerous, as it portrays this unique human tragedy as the forgettable ephemera in an otherwise triumphant Western victory, and tends to absolve the grave political mistakes that led to it. In consequence, the soldiers' self-sacrifice is diminished, and the Vietnam War ceases to be a singular human catastrophe from which we might learn. At least our involvement in Iraq and Afghanistan appears to have taught us not to attack soldiers for politicians' decisions. If we're honest, only by knowing why Australian soldiers went to war, the context of their battle honours, and their failings as well as their triumphs, can we fully appreciate the true nature of sacrifice in war.

I'd recommend it strongly. Get hold of the magazine, or find it in the library. If you haven't read any of his other works, do yourself a favour and do so.

I've also posted the illustration by Danny Snell. I hope no copyright has been breached!

Daylight Raving

It's that time again. We're hearing the usual bleating from the white-shoe brigade about the misery they're enduring because Queensland hasn't embraced daylight saving.

I can remember the last time Queensland flirted with the notion. At the time I was living and working in Mount Isa. I won't ever forget the sight of people going for "evening" walks with hats and sunscreen, or dragging the kids out of bed in the pitch dark. It was not a popular notion in a city due North of Adelaide with Summer temperatures in the forties.

Part of the problem, is the idea that the time difference is a North-South issue. It isn't – it is only meaningful in the East-West context, and this is the problem for Queensland. It makes as much sense for our far Western centres to be on South Australian Time as it does for them to be on Daylight Saving Time.

The disregard of our state's geography is common in inhabitants of the South East corner. It should be a legislated requirement for the air-conditioned boardrooms in Brisbane and the Gold Coast to have a map on the wall.

In the meantime – let the masters of the universe get up an hour earlier, and knock off an hour earlier. In the tropics and sub-tropics, the idea is a nonsense.

And again and again.........

Today we hear of another shooting rampage in Finland - here
It occurs to me that there may be some connection between the high rate of gun ownership in Finland, and these two events.
Apparently, the gunman, Matti Juhani Saari, was a licensed shooter. This puts the lie to the cliche (frequently put out there by the gun lobby), that it's only criminals who offend with firearms.
The other argument put by the firearm freaks to justify owning a weapon is for protection. I wonder who Matti Saari was protecting?

The Global Village

Like a lot of baby boomers, I'm a self-funded retiree and live off the proceeds of my investments. I'm fortunate to be able to do this - wouldn't want to be trying to live off the pension given the cost of living these days.
Having said that, I'm affected by the poor results on the share market post the sub-prime crisis. It's only a paper loss, but it's worrying.
When you consider the global market, it's quite clear that what happens in Wall Street has a direct and measurable outcome in our hip pockets. I remember my dad saying "When Wall Street sneezes, we catch cold"- hardly original, but he had other sayings "In the name of the almighty dollar, every knee shall bend...."
But I digress.
The reality is that because of poor regulation, an over-abundance of greed, and simple incompetence on the part of some very highly paid CEOs in the US lending market, people like us on the other side of the Pacific, cop the flak. The fact that the American taxpayer has been forced to bail out two private institutions says it all. It also says a lot about the American style of capitalism, but that's another story.
With all this in mind, I'm going to pay a visit to the US embassy, to see if I can enrol to vote at the Presidential election in November.
I'm sure I'd be welcome - apparently, many Yanks don't bother, so they'd be glad to pick up a few trans-Pacific volunteers. I'll let you know how I get on.

A Beautiful Life

I went to a funeral yesterday - or rather, I joined hundreds of people in celebrating a beautiful life.
For many years I was the principal of a special school in a provincial city. In the same year that I was appointed, a six year-old with Down syndrome was enrolled.
She had a major heart defect, and her parents had been told that she wouldn't survive infancy. Obviously, by the time she had started school, she had already proved the medicos wrong, and during the following years, with the help of an amazing family, she continued to do so.
Winter was always an anxious time, and more often than not, she'd end up in hospital receiving treatment after complications derived from the usual seasonal viruses that did the rounds.
Come spring, she'd bounce back, and the school garden with its colorful blooms would fade in the shadow of her smile. Her resilience, and the strength and faith of her family were often personally inspirational to me, and I'm sure to those who were privileged to teach her.
I retired at about the same time she headed off to high school, with hope in her heart, and supported by the pride and positive attitude of her parents.
She was about to turn seventeen and was involved in work experience and planning a future after school, when she died suddenly from cardiac arrest.
The music she loved (ABBA) was played at the service yesterday, and this transformed it into a celebration. The hundreds who attended reflected the amazing richness of the networks that had built up around her and her family.
Hers was an inspirational and beautiful life.