Letter to David Johnstone

I sent this off to David Johnstone, after watching his rant about the ABC. It will be interesting to see if I get a response.

Senator the Hon David Johnston
PO Box 6100
Senate
Parliament House
Canberra ACT 2600

Dear Sir

I write after watching your recent interview on television which included intemperate language directed at the ABC.

Over forty years ago, in 1970, I served as a conscript in 7 RAR, on the battalion's second tour of duty in South Vietnam.

I well remember how conscripts, "called up" by a Coalition government, were dropped like proverbial hot potatoes on our return to Australia.

I recall a Liberal booth worker abusing me roundly in the 1975 federal election, when my father (voting with me at the time) told him I was a Vietnam veteran and that I would never vote for a party that sent me to an undeclared war, whilst the bulk of my peers enjoyed civilian life.

I recall this Liberal booth worker telling me that I hadn’t fought for him, and that Vietnam wasn't a "real" war. This attitude was typical not only of Labor politicians, but also of your colleagues at the time. We were persona non gratia in the country we had been conscripted to fight and die for.

The Labor party at least were not hypocrites. They opposed the commitment from the beginning. The Coalition amended the National Service act, sent conscripts to an undeclared war, and then abandoned and disowned us when the political tide turned.

When it comes to the ABC, it’s right and proper that the media question the conduct of ADF personnel when they have reason to do so. This country, minister, is a democracy, not a plutocracy (like Soviet Russia) with a compliant media.

You may recall the My Lai massacre. No doubt the troops who committed these atrocities at the time had the support of their government. It took a media, searching for the truth, to ultimately tell the citizens who voted for the government that sent these soldiers to war what they were doing in their name.

One of the principles that I was fighting for in Vietnam in 1970 was freedom of the press.

This same press freedom helped end the tragedy that was Vietnam when Australian voters became aware of the reality of that conflict.

It rankles, therefore, when I see a Liberal minister abusing a media organization which has the temerity to report allegations about misconduct of service personnel in the guise of loyalty to these same personnel.

It is disgraceful that responsibility for Operation Sovereign Borders has been removed from your portfolio to that of Immigration, although this situation clearly exposes the sad fact that ADF personnel are being used as collateral in a political campaign.

Please reflect on the wisdom of ADF personnel being used for political purposes. I would have thought that after the sad lessons of Vietnam, no Australian government would ever do that again.

Unfortunately, after your behaviour recently, it is clear that this lesson has not been learned.

By all means defend the ADF, but you should also defend the right of media organisations to hold them, and you, to account, just as I was held to account forty four years ago.

Yours faithfully,

Bradman

This story by academics David Dunstan and Tom Heenan has appeared in today's New Daily.

 Apart from the sound track of Paul Kelly's *iconic brilliant song, it's a "must watch" because of the footage of the Don in action.

I wish I had been around at the time to see it.

The article has as its central thesis an argument that Bradman resembled a modern professional cricketer more than he did the amateurs who were his contemporaries. It also describes him as ruthless and acquisitive.

Whatever. Most modern cricketers are both these things.

For mine, the most interesting allegation in the story is that Bradman behaved as if he was on the Autism Spectrum. In other words, the Don had Asperger's Syndrome.

This is perhaps plausible, Bradman was extraordinarily focused, and socially flat (there is plenty of evidence of this in interviews), but I'd argue that it is irrelevant.

Anyway, watch the video and listen to the soundtrack. For those who are into Karaoke, here are Kelly's lyrics -

Sydney, 1926, this is the story of a man 
Just a kid in from the sticks, just a kid with a plan 
St George took a gamble, played him in first grade 
Pretty soon that young man showed them how to flash the blade 
And at the age of nineteen he was playing for the State From 
Adelaide to Brisbane the runs did not abate 
He hit 'em hard, he hit 'em straight 

He was more than just a batsman 
He was something like a tide 
He was more than just one man 
He could take on any side 
They always came for Bradman 'cause fortune used to hide in the palm of his hand 

A team came out from England 
Wally Hammond wore his felt hat like a chief 
All through the summer of '28, '29 they gave the greencaps no relief 
Some reputations came to grief 
They say the darkest hour is right before the dawn 
And in the hour of greatest slaughter the great avenger is being born 
But who then could have seen the shape of things to come 
In Bradman's first test he went for eighteen and for one 
They dropped him like a gun 
Now big Maurice Tate was the trickiest of them all 
And a man with a wisecracking habit 
But there's one crack that won't stop ringing in his ears 
"Hey Whitey, that's my rabbit" 
Bradman never forgot it 

He was more than just a batsman 
He was something like a tide 
He was more than just one man 
He could take on any side 
They always came for Bradman 'cause fortune used to hide in the palm of his hand

England 1930 and the seed burst into flower 
All of Jackson's grace failed him, it was Bradman was the power 
He murdered them in Yorkshire,he danced for them in Kent 
He laughed at them in Leicestershire, Leeds was an event 
Three hundred runs he took and rewrote all the books 
That really knocked those gents 
The critics could not comprehend hsi nonchalant phenomenon 
"Why this man is a machine," they said. "Even his friends say he isn't human" 
Even friends have to cut something 

He was more than just a batsman 
He was something like a tide 
He was more than just one man 
He could take on any side 
They always came for Bradman 'cause fortune used to hide in the palm of his hand 

Summer 1932 and Captain Douglas had a plan 
When Larwood bowled to Bradman it was more than man to man 
And staid Adelaide nearly boiled over as rage ruled over sense 
When Oldfield hit the ground they nearly jumped the fence 
Now Bill Woodill was as fine a man as ever went to wicket 
And the bruises on his body that day showed that he could stick it 
But to this day he's still quoted and only he could wear it 
"There's two teams out there today and only one of them's playing cricket." 
 He was longer than a memory, bigger than a town 
He feet they used to sparkle and he always kept them on the ground 
Fathers took their sons who never lost the sound of the roar of the grandstand 
Now shadows they grow longer and there's so mush more yet to be told 
But we're not getting any younger, so let the part tell the whole 
Now the players all wear colours, the circus is in town 
I can no longer go down there, down to that sacred ground 

He was more than just a batsman 
He was something like a tide 
He was more than just one man He could take on any side 
They always came for Bradman 'cause fortune used to hide in the palm of his hand

* I will never use this cliche..............

Shuroos

Because I'm back on the road, I thought I might take a look at the Shuroo.

There's a couple of reasons for this.

One is the prevalence of macropods of all shapes, sizes and colours on the road because of the drought, and the fact that she who must be obeyed (the fleet manager) allocated me a vehicle with a Shuroo fitted.

On close examination, after noting that the car (a late model Camry) actually had one, I also noted that it was mounted upside down. I have no idea whether that makes any difference. I don't think sound transmissions are effected by orientation.

Speakers work whichever way you arrange them.

The other thing I noticed was the sandblasted appearance of this thing. Apparently it has been fitted to three different vehicles over time, so somebody thinks it works.

A quick Google turned up an article which pretty much debunks their effectiveness. Here's the abstract  from -

 Roo-Guard® sound emitters are not effective at deterring tammar wallabies (Macropus eugenii) from a source of food - Sarah MuirheadA, Dominique BlacheA, Boyd WykesB and Roberta BenciniA,C
ASchool of Animal Biology, M085, Faculty of Natural and Agricultural Sciences,
The University of Western Australia, Crawley, WA 6009, Australia.
BDefence Estate Organisation LB 5001, Fremantle, WA 6959, Australia.


Auditory deterrents such as the Roo-Guard® sound emitters (Shu-Roo Australia Pty Ltd) have been used to keep kangaroos off crops and airstrips. We tested the efficacy of the Roo-Guard® Mk II sound emitter in deterring tammar wallabies (Macropus eugenii) from a known source of food on Garden Island, Western Australia, where up to 400 tammars are killed yearly by vehicles. The device was not effective in deterring the tammars from the food even when an alternative source of food was available. It was concluded that the Roo-Guards in their present form are not suitable to keep tammars off the roads of Garden Island.

That sounds pretty cut and dried, but when you read how the research was carried out, it muddies the waters, as the things were tested in situ (stationary) - not on moving vehicles.

You would have to assume that conclusions from the stationary tests apply to the device when it is moving, and I'm not sure that is a valid assumption.

Anyway, anecdotally, no vehicle fitted with a Shuroo in our fleet has hit a roo or wallaby. I average one hit every three years, and I reckon I know where they congregate, and don't drive at dawn or dusk.

Also anecdotally, I have always fitted those cheap ($7) roo whistles to my private cars, and have never hit a roo although I do a fair bit of bush driving.

They don't repel taxis, but that's another story.

I reckon these work

I didn't hit anything this trip, by the way.

Stairclimbers

New style climber

                                                                              Old style climber 

Back to work this week.

My first job is training staff in a bush school in the use of a stairclimber.

This was a regular part of the job, before the days of the BER scheme, but now that every school has at least one accessible building, it's become rare.

In the case of this student, the classroom is accessible, toilets built under BER are accessible, but the music room (attended once weekly) is not.

It's not practical for the music teacher to ship all her gear downstairs for the class lessons involving the student in the wheelchair, so a stairclimber is a solution.

Technology around disabilities has advanced in leaps and bounds in the thirty or so years that I've been involved, and nothing makes this clearer than a comparison between the new machine (top) and the old one (bottom).

The new one breaks down into three pieces that can be fitted into a small hatchback. The old one needed a station wagon or a ute.

 

Police on the Job in Queensland

This is doing the rounds on You-tube.

I wouldn't call it harassment, but it is a colossal waste of time and money - our money.

For mine, the most disturbing thing is the misuse of police time.

At one stage there were eight police officers involved.

The only other concern I would have is for the police, who are the meat in the sandwich.

Their union has gone to water.

First they came for the bikies...

The picture above reminded me of an incident back in 2008 that I blogged about at the time.

In the context of the current politically generated hysteria about bikies, I though it was worth sharing again -


A few weekends ago, my wife and I traveled to a provincial centre some 80km away to participate in a “show and shine” with our car club.
It was a glorious day – or at least it started out that way – with an autumn sun providing gentle warmth, and no wind to speak of. The road was lightly trafficked; the countryside a picture, and once we left the main road, the drive engaging.
There was a wide variety of vehicles on display ranging from street rods to classic British sports cars. There were also lots of bikes, and of course, bikers.
Standing beside a cluster of Harleys was a leathery looking character wearing a Vietnam Veterans Motorcycle club jacket. He displayed some interesting tats, and wore the signature head scarf. He looked about my age, but wasn’t as grey as me, and looked as fit as a whippet.
Despite my wife’s “are you sure this is a good idea” look, I walked up to him, extended my hand and introduced myself as a fellow veteran.
“Nice bike”, was my observation. He shook my hand. It emerged that he’d been in Vietnam at the same time I was, but had served in 4 RAR. During all this time, he kept his left hand hidden behind his back.
As he relaxed and became more animated, his left hand, or what was left of it, emerged. There was no hand as such, but a well-worn leather gauntlet covering a stump.
“Got shot up in a bunker system”, was his explanation. “Copped it in the arse as well”.
We shared warries about bunkers. My story had a happier ending. I mentioned that I’d gone back to Vietnam a couple of times. He looked at me as if I had rocks in my head.
“I wouldn’t ever do that mate – it would bring back too much shit” was his dismissal. Fair enough.
“The whole bloody thing was completely stupid”, was his closing observation as we wished each other well and went our separate ways.
It rained on the way home, so we had to put the top up. I thought of him. You can’t put a roof on a Harley, but his leathers probably kept him warm and dry.

Comparisons

Erin-Go-Bragh

Both Tony Abbott and Julia Gillard were born overseas.

Both came to this country on boats.

Wikipaedia provides some detail -

Former Prime Minister Julia Gillard migrated with her family from Barry, Vale of Glamorgan, Wales in 1966,in her parents' hope the warmer climate would help her fix a lung infection.

The current Prime Minister, Tony Abbott, migrated in 1960 under the £10 scheme, despite the fact that his father had already lived in Australia after arriving at the beginning of WW2 on a "First Class Only" Blue Funnel Liner, served in the RAAF and studied dentistry at Sydney University at taxpayer expense, and that his mother was an Australian expatriate living in England at the time of his birth.

So Julia Gillard came for health reasons, and the Abbott family turned up looking for a better life, after his father was helped along by the Australian taxpayer.

So they were both ten pound Poms.

This meant that they paid only ten pounds for a passage that cost, at the time, about one hundred pounds. The Australian taxpayer picked up the rest of the tab.

Again, from Wikipaedia –

Prior to 1 December 1973, migrants to Australia from Commonwealth countries were eligible to apply for Australian citizenship after one year's residence in Australia. In 1973 the residence requirement was extended to three years, then reduced to two years in November 1984. However, relatively few British migrants—compared to other postwar arrivals, such as Italians, Greeks and Turks—took up Australian citizenship.

Now ten pound Poms came seeking a better life.

In fact, it would not be inaccurate to call them country shoppers.

So, to make some comparisons with the current crop of boat people –

Costs – The ten pound Poms were paid for by the Australian taxpayer. Boat people these days pay people smugglers.

Residency – Ten pound Poms were granted citizenship after one or three years. Boat people these days will never achieve Australian citizenship.

Motives – Ten pound Poms arrived on boats seeking a better life. So do the current crop of boat people.

Religion – The religion of the ten pound Poms was not an issue. Boat people these days are demonized by some because they are Muslims. Those that aren’t (Egyptian Coptic Christians, for example), are lumped together with Muslims and demonized anyway.

Manner of arrival – Ten pound Poms traveled on safe and reliable ocean liners. When they carried ports and wore expensive clothes off their ships, nobody was bothered. Boat people these days are criticized if they carry briefcases or wear expensive clothes. They arrive in rickety boats.

The biggest difference of course, is that the current crop isn’t (as the song says) “neat and clean and well-advised”.

I wonder if my ancestors, when they arrived here in 1860, were “neat and clean and well-advised”. According to the old Irish song – not likely.

When you stand back and look at it, you could very easily come to the conclusion that we’ve lost a great deal of compassion and decency since the days of the ten pound Poms.

But then, what would I know?

I’m obviously just a bleeding heart……