Back a while ago, we published an incredibly interesting article about the life of one man in Papua New Guinea during the Second World War. It was a transcript of a story he told in relation to his experience during his forced flight from the war ravaged region in 1942.
I was reminded of it yesterday when I was thinking about visit from the current Prime Minister of Australia to the Kokoda Trail. That should be interesting. Albanese’s first day of trekking will pass through Hoi Village and finish at Deniki, where he will camp overnight. On Wednesday, Albanese will continue to Isurava, where a dawn service ceremony will be held on Thursday. Travelling with the PM on the trek is a five-member media contingent.
Well, our boys didn't have a media contingent with them. Far from it. Unless highly trained members of the New Guinea Mosquito Regiment were flying blood samples back to Moresby for malaria testing .
But back to something more serious than the Australian Prime Minister trekking the Kokoda Track, which, let's be honest. is about as sad as Joe Biden's Uncle being eaten by New Guinean Cannibals at the Kokoda outlet of the McSniffys Steakhouse.
You see, this is what is happening to news these days. It is becoming a subject of mockery. The real tragedy is that people, aka the masses, line up to believe the myths and ignore the true reality of that horrific period in history.
Read more: The Fuzzy Wuzzy Angels of the Kokoda Trail versus Albo
The young men who left for war over a century ago were full of hope and excitement.
They were proud young Patriots. They marched off to war and either perished in the mud of the battlefield or came home as different people.
I find it incredibly sad that so many have lost the ability or will to acknowledge those from the past who gave so much so that we could enjoy the life that we have. ( Or had? )
It is essential that we keep the past alive and honour it today. ANZAC Day is truly a day of remembrance and it should be treated with the utmost respect.
Where would our boys have been, had it not been for the animals who shared their burden?
So today, I want to pay homage to the brave horses, camels, dogs and even pigeons who served us so well in times of war and perished in piteous circumstances. They were among the mightiest of the mighty and dear and trusted mates.
25 April is a very important day for Australians and New Zealanders. It is called ANZAC Day.
A while ago, I watched a movie ( Australian ) called William Kelly's War.
It was based on the true story of two brothers who fought in WWI.
The brothers had come from a farming background in rural Queensland Australia and their father only gave them one bullet to use when shooting "roos. " ( for my American readers that means kangaroos.)
As a result, the young William, or Billy as he was called, became a damned fine shot.
In the war, this served him well and he became a sniper.
When our leaders and politicians sign us up to these global accords, declarations and agreements, do they realise what the consequences will be?
Decades on, their moment in the sun and on the front page can have far reaching consequences.
One little known, but very impactive decision is now showing us just how damaging these signatures can be.
Nearly 50 years ago, Australia signed up to the Lima Declaration.
Read more: The Lima Agreement - the Beginning of the Long Road Down?
It has been truly said that Australia arrived in Gallipoli as six separate States and returned as a Nation with its own national identity. In achieving this, of the over 50,000 Australians who served at Gallipoli during a period of 260 days, there were 8,159 deaths in total, comprised of 5,482 killed in action, 2,012 deaths from wounds, and 665 deaths from disease.
To the armchair Revisionists, these are merely numbers and not men who gave their lives for their country and are buried in a far-off land.
Recently, a young man I know preparing for the HSC had to write an essay contrasting the saying that Australia discovered its identity at Gallipoli from both a traditional and revisionist viewpoint.
The traditional viewpoint is said to be a statement of history favourable to the march of civilisation with the facts altered to suit, while the revisionist viewpoint is said to be a statement of what actually happened according to the facts. In order to promote the revisionist viewpoint, it was pointed out that the first war fought by the white Australians was with the aboriginals, and in any event, Australia was defeated at Gallipoli.
What the Revisionists ignore is that until Federation in 1901, the present Australia consisted of six separate British colonies, each with its own Governor and laws, even in relation to customs duties between the States-to-be. By the time of the Gallipoli campaign, Australia had only existed as a nation on paper for 14 years.
Read more: The Lead Up to the ANZAC Diggers - the road to ANZAC Cove
Cats have been a part of ocean going ships since time immemorial being needed to keep the rat population under control.
I love Cats whether they fly through the air or doze at our feet, they are always ready to take flight or stand and fight. Are we?
The most famous one of course was Matthew Flinders’ cat which has been the subject of a book of the same name.
The ship’s cat has always been a favoured mascot among the crews of warships except submarines.
In 1942, my late Uncle was a metallurgist in Papua New Guinea. At the height of WW2 , he was living in the jungles of one of the hotbeds of the conflict. Unable to serve in the War due to being deaf ( years of working in a goldmine in New Zealand) he served in his own way by doing his bit and carrying on.
I always remember with great excitement going down to Mechanic's Bay in Auckland where a big Flying boat was due to land on the water. We were there because my mother's brother was due to arrive back from the war torn area of New Guinea . He was a metallurgist , and had walked out of the jungle with others to safety.
It is so sad that we have forgotten some of the really terrifying things some of our relations have gone through. Not just our servicemen but civilians that worked in places that we couldn't even imagine.
Some years ago, Shaydee and I went through some family archives I think you might call them that . Pieces of paper and so often sent to the bin. My late husband spotted it and rescued it. Had he not looked and said " This is worth saving. " it might have been lost forever.
That is how we stumbled on this . I have to wonder how many more things like this lie buried in a box of memories?
Read more: You can climb mountains no matter the obstacles in your way
We seem to have an outbreak of mental health issues throughout the world. Yelling “allah hu akbar “ is not terrorism, apparently it is a mental health issue. Running in to a shopping centre and stabbing women and babies is not an act of terrorism - it is a terrifying act, but not an act of terrorism. Apparently there is a difference. {sarc}
People murdering others, massacres carried out – mental health issues.
There are people whose brains have been addled by drugs and they have mental health issues. Or addled by religious zealous or fanatical indoctrination. Or addled by greed and the desire for power.
Which makes me wonder if it is time to re open the asylums and get those pesky people who commit terrifying acts ( not acts of terrorism you understand - heaven forbid) off the streets and into the asylum that they seek so much? Because it seems to me that we are turning our nations into gigantic open air mental asylums and we, the citizens and taxpayers, are funding terror.
In our homes, our streets, our shopping centres and our places of worship.
Read more: Asylum Seekers? There are a lot who need some asylum these days.
Imagine this:
It is the 25th April, and a German man and his wife from Munich are taking a motoring holiday to the South of France. They pass through the northern French city of Amiens.
They observe much gaiety among the populace and are wondering what it is all about.
They pass through the city and 15 km down the road they approach a small town.
On the outskirts, they pass a cemetery which has a sign “Adelaide Cemetery”.
Says the man, " that is not a French name. What does it mean? "
It was about 30 years ago when I was living in a tiny town in the Channel Country. I was married to the local copper. We had only arrived in the town of 30 residents a few weeks before..... we still didn't have a handle on how to " fit in " with this isolated and unusual community of people.
We were coasties: people who came from a far distant place that never knew about things like kangaroo shooters, feral pigs and opal mining.
In fact, in those days, I knew nothing about life in the Australian Outback. All I knew was that my husband was a policeman and he had applied to become an officer serving a remote community in one of the most extreme places in Australia. Where walking across the road could make you collapse from heatstroke.
I was in for a rude awakening. A baptism of fire. Literally. It was high summer and the heat was extraordinary.
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