Thursday, December 22, 2016

1963 MY FIRST CAR : DEUTSCHLAND UBER ALLES!


1961 VOLKSWAGEN - MY PRIDE & JOY - WHEELS AT LAST!


In 1963 at age 23 I finally was in a position to buy a car. Already the fascination with things German had ensured that it HAD to be a VDub. In any case, the mighty VWs were enjoying cult status at the time, and why not? They had several times won the epic Round Australia Car Rallies, knocking the Peugeot 203s off their perch. And if we didn't know it before , full page ads. in the daily press told us that our VDubs were so well built they would float!Which they did. 

Driving around in a VDub made one a member of an instant fraternity, exchanging discreet waves of the hand or nods of the head as we drove along . That was a bit demanding as there were so many of us. The Fuhrer would have been pleased!(Joke - in case any of the humourless PC police are reading!)

The car was bought from a VW dealer in the heart of Double Bay. It had had one owner - a Commercial Traveller- who used it on regular trips Sydney to Melbourne. It was in superb condition and had done only 23,000 miles and went like a VDub dream! At that stage they still had orange lighted turning indicator arms which came up out of the door posts and dropped back with a good Germanic clunk when cancelled. In addition, there was no fuel gauge! Instead, there was a floor mounted small lever which when turned as the engine began to splutter, gave access to a Reserve level of fuel which was good for about 40 miles I think.I was so absorbed in the joy of mobility that I did not think much about the practicalities surrounding this device.Until one day......heading West on Parramatta Road, just at the junction with City Road, the car started jerking about , the engine sputtered, and in great confusion, to the sounds of derisive following cars ( and horrors, possibly trams!-I dare'nt look) hanging onto the Steering Wheel with my right hand, I reached down with my left hand to turn the Reserve lever...but couldn't contact it!!!In desperation I took a quick look down and kicked at it with my foot and all was well as the Reserve came on stream. As I drove off looking resolutely ahead I realised it could only work properly foot activated. The worst times are when you realise you have been stupid!

I have very happy memories of the VDub, the comforting reliability of the chaff-cutter sound from the great hearted flat four rear engine and the dream to use Gear Box. Oh! That brings to mind one special feature( I nearly said "deficiency"!)- no synchro on First! It seems incredible now , and even then the Car Reviewers were hypercritical. But we loyal VDubbers would not publicly acknowledge it as a problem when speaking to drivers of "ordinary" cars".

I have had one occasion to sit in the front seat of a Beetle as they were also known, in recent years and found it hard to escape the idea that the windscreen was "in my face"and that a fuel tank "bomb"was immediately in front of me! We change after long years of conditioning,this time for the better. But it isn't always so.

A very poor photo of the 23yrs old Banker and his German wheels -
I guess these days it would have to be a Beamer !

Wednesday, December 21, 2016

1954 FIRST VISIT TO MELBOURNE - PROPRIETY IN JOLIMONT


1937 THE SPIRIT OF PROGRESS is introduced in a blaze of publicity - no immediate effect on me.
However from the earliest days after my 1940 birth, there began to build up in my little boy's mind glamorous images of the Spirit of Progress- all blue and gold and sleek. The brilliant new large window carriages made of Corten Steel got plenty of publicity as did the round ended observation lounge car that brought up the rear. It wasn't until many years later that I got to discover that the locomotive was actually 1928 Mutton dressed up as Spring Lamb!  But you will understand I just HAD to visit Melbourne.

"And so it came to pass" that in 1954 at the end of my Lower Secondary Schooling with a schoolmateWallace Simpson, whose parents owned the Milk Bar on the Southern Side of the Lidcombe Arcadia Theatre (Picture Show) where I worked at weekends with Wallace, we spent our built up savings from our pay on a trip to Melbourne with my Mum coming along to see we did not get into any trouble at 14 years of age!

The First Division of the MELBOURNE EXPRESS is hustled South by the great C 38 Class locomotive.
The first part of our journey was on the MELBOURNE EXPRESS to Albury on the border, where the gauge changed from N.S.W. standard gauge (4 feet 8 1/2 inches)to Victoria's broad gauge ( 5 feet 3 inches) a legacy of the persuasive powers of Isambard Kingdom Brunel in the previous century and the relatively easy country in Victoria compared to the frequently hilly and tightly curved territory very frequently encountered in N.S.W.  The MELBOURNE EXPRESS was made up of very large and heavy teakwood clad carriages each running on two six wheel bogies.The carriages had side corridors half on one side , half on the other side of the carriage with compartments coming off the corridors in the British/European fashion. There was no airconditioning. Leaving Central Station in the early evening she ran through the night arriving in Albury in the early morning, when everyone transhipped down the long platform to the Victorian tracks and train.

The air-conditioned carriages  and compartments of the Spirit of Progress were a revelation , the great wide picture windows of the compartment were impressive. Our seats were near the side corridor rather than the window, which slightly dampened the enthusiasm. The journey was principally noteworthy for the continual bleating of the Diesel loco's horn as we approached the repeated  level crossings so much a feature of the VR track. 
The Chocolate Box image of the Spirit of Progress kept the glamour alive,
long after the steam locomotives were all gone to ignominious scrapping yards.
We arrived at Spencer Street Station and took an electric train out to Jolimont where we were booked into a very nice small hotel which I think was called the Cliveden ( the name is preserved in the Dining Room of the Hilton Hotel which now occupies the proximate or even precise site.)The hotel was brilliantly presented, clean and crisp as its linen and the white capped, black aproned with white lace trimmed waitresses. We made our way down to the City and by some miracle of Guardian Angelic care found the Hopetoun Tea Rooms, where we had a light lunch of really delightful Pin Wheel sandwiches. Over the several days of our visit we saw all the sights, rode the trams, and explored the Bookshops which I found to be a particular asset of the City. At that time, my interests in books centred on History and Steam Locomotives. In those days nearly every book available in Australia was published in England. This was an unfortunate result of the Commonwealth licensing arrangements which locked out European or American published books which generally were produced on high quality paper and featured high quality, even colour photography . How did we know? Well, some importers bypassed the big agencies and brought American and European titles in directly. The price was very high because numbers were small - but what a joy. However, mostly we got by on British blotting paper and cardboard - slight exaggeration - but only slight. Australian published books were printed here, dear and approx. English quality.

There was always much talk by Melbournians about the wonders of the Myer Store - but we were underwhelmed. It had the appearance internally of WALTONS Sydney store - an American chain that had takenover Murdochs ( I think)  and turned it into a junk bazaar with merchandise hanging off tables cluttering every aisle - and that is just how Myers struck us. MYER had their revenge on us, coming to Sydney after a few years and taking over our beloved, staid FARMERS Department Store on the Corner of George , Market and Pitt Streets and raping it until it too was another WALTONS.

So we did the return trip without incident and that was Melbourne - I was unchanged, it was unchanged,but I was at least oriented for future trips . Both Wallace and I had a good time and I think Mum also enjoyed herself all going well and the pace only moderate.





Not quite St Mary's Basilica, but St. Patrick's 
is a very beautiful Cathedral.

A light lunch of Pin Wheel Sandwiches 
at the Hopetoun Tea rooms has stayed in my memory,
 57 years later.
The ugly truth -  by 1954 The Spirit of Progress
 was hauled by one of VR's double-ended 
(rather ridiculous) Clyde - built GM Diesels,

1954,55 & 56 FIRST EXPERIENCE OF WORKING FOR MONEY Part ii

Mark Foy's Piazza Department Store was a model of style and elegance
1955

At the conclusion of 4th Year at Marist Brothers Darlinghurst, the question again arose of some holiday work. I applied to Woolworths and was posted to their Liverpool Street Store which, if I remember rightly (I think it no longer exists) was on the Southern side between Castlereagh Street and Pitt Street. It was on two levels, a basement and the Ground Floor or street level ( which Americans call the First Floor). both the basement and the Ground Floor were accessible directly from the footpath because of the slope of Liverpool Street, via steps up and down.

I was posted to the Hardware and Electrical Section , which was a bit of a laugh because I had little practical inclination or knowledge. But it didn't matter, because it seemed to me that everyone working there loathed working there. Only two things stick clearly in my mind about the time I spent there :

. one of the female sales assistants, a plump  young Methodist girl, stole my wallet! At the time I had no credit cards of course(neither did ANYBODY else!) and I had the habit of keeping what little cash I had in my trousers pocket. So, when it went missing from my jacket in the staff locker room, I thought I had probably mislaid it. However after about 10 days, I received a letter from a lady, who owned the boarding house where the girl was staying. She had found my wallet under the girl's pillow! (Snooping?) She asked me to contact her to retrieve the Wallet AND SUGGESTED HOW IMPROPER OF ME SHE THOUGHT IT WAS, TO BE FRIENDS WITH THIS GIRL WHEN I WAS PLANNING TO BE A PRIEST! Her snooping had extended to the contents of my wallet and there was a letter there from the Vocations Director, Father Kevin McGovern, which also gave her my address. I was amazed at the action of this girl who was either a kleptomaniac or had her eye on me! I wasted no time phoning Mrs. Snoop and setting her straight about my total lack of interest in the girl in question. and later recovered the wallet. I felt sorry for the girl , who was really rather pathetic. My time at Woolies was just about up and I don't recall ever confronting the girl about the theft.It seemed pointless.

. the second point I remember was that the senior woman who was in charge of the Section, had had a brother, who died in the War (then only 10 years past) at the hands of the Japanese - whom we always called "JAPS" in a Prisoner of War Camp. This had so affected her that she implacably HATED THE JAPS. It was terrible to see the venomous change in her  personality whenever the subject was raised, or she raised it - we had plenty of "Made in Japan" cheap goods  that prompted such occasions. Evil begets evil.


1956

5th Year was over and so was my High School time.But before the Seminary Year of 1957 was to commence, it was necessary to find some temporary employment.

In each of these holiday periods, the rationale was the same : Mum and Dad could not afford cash for me to have even a modest holiday, they did not in any case believe it was good for me to idle around and I wanted to get some spending money. Solution : get a job.For 1956 together with my best friend Tony Hannon I applied to Mark Foy's Department Store an impressive Italianate building which they termed the Piazza Store bounded by Liverpool Street to the North , Elizabeth Street to the East and Castlereagh Street to the West. at the Southern end across Goulburn Street the 1926 built underground City Railway dived under the building and split into two tunnels the western one tending left toward TOWN HALL STATION and WYNYARD STATION and the other pulling sharply to the East to promptly arrive at the shallow MUSEUM STATION and then on to ST.JAMES STATION.The tunnel subverted MARK FOY'S not only physically but commercially. The effect of the undergound City Railway was to move the commercial hub of the City to the North midway between MARK FOY'S and Circular Quay.And at that centre point on Market Street lay the deadly threat to MARK FOY'S : DAVID JONES' LADIES AND MEN'S Store and FARMERS ( Now MYER).

Poor Tony got the rough end of the pineapple and was appointed to the carpet cutting section of the warehouse across Elizabeth Street from the Piazza Store, whereas I , I had the high privilege of working in Ladies Handbags and Umbrellas!! AAaaargh! This was on the Ground Floor and was headed up by a Mr. Fenwick - who , despite the verrrry British name was, I believe, Maltese. Mr F. was, shall we say, rather fastidious - if I remember rightly- he wore a bow tie! He made it obvious I was not part of his plans and I should not get in the way or touch anything. Despite all these strictures I do believe I managed to sell a few things. 

One occasion is burned in to my memory, in embarrassment : Tony's sister Robyn ( my wife of 41 1/2 years, and her Best Friend Penny Rowley ( who later became Penny Loughland and with her husband Keith   they are our oldest friends) and several others from St Clare's College Waverley, came into the Piazza Store and stood across the floor from my Section giggling and smiling.I made my self busy and shifted around the other side of a pillar hoping they would be gone before Mr.F noticed. He was not the type to take kindly to giggling girls! In time they left but the embarrassment lingered on.

That was it really, my glorious career in retail trade was at an end! From milk shakes and ice creams to Ladies' Handbags and Umbrellas via Hardware and Electrical! Been there, Done That!


BTW in due course dear old Mark Foy's - famous for its Grand Ballroom succumbed to the commercial subversion by the City Railway. The Store closed and after a period of being boarded up,was bought by the Labor State Government for a Court and Legal Complex and dubbed the Downing Centre after a Labor Minister.A great loss to the City.

1954,55 & 56 FIRST EXPERIENCE OF WORKING FOR MONEY Part i

"The hub of the district's social life - Lidcombe's "ARCADIA" Picture Show
in 1954 I worked regularly at the Milk Bar just showing on the left of the photo.
My first experience of paid work was serving in a Milk Bar next to Lidcombe's "ARCADIA" Picture Show, about twenty minutes walk from home. (N.B. It was here that my Mum and Dad met in 1926/27) The Milk Bar was owned by the parents of my good friend Wallace Simpson ( it didn't occur to me until much later that this was one of those cute namings that have become so popular to-day). Mr. & Mrs Simpson were very pleasant and friendly people, but appropriately business-like.The Milk Bar lived on the Picture Show business and especially on Friday and Saturday nights and Saturday Matinees, there were of course, no movies on Sundays.

I served behind the counter during the pre-show period and intervals for the Saturday Matinees, and I think for occasional Saturday nights and Friday nights during the School Holidays. The shop was fitted out originally in the 1930s and little had been changed except perhaps the ice cream refrigerator cabinets which were at counter height  with six or eight deep circular recesses to receive the ice cream cylinders in various flavours. The non-refrigerated display cabinets were typical 1930s stuff  with a flat glass front up to counter height and then a further glass section sloping back away from the customer, not very high , so that we could easily reach across to provide the goods and take the money. On the wall behind us were shallow cabinets up to counter height and then glass shelves with a mirrored background.

Many of the product names are still around, some appear occasionally from some corporate attic and many are gone forever. But nearly everything was Australian made and I believe very many were Australian owned. Among those seemingly gone forever were Mastercraft Chocolates, Nestles "Winning Post"brand with its characteristic apple green box and oval picture of a winning horse and jockey crossing the winning post) and many others.

The feverish crowds as showtime approached, and even worse at the 15 minutes interval made for a frantic burst of activity. This required a lot of preparation if sales potential was to be maximised ( although we didn't talk like that). Milk shake containers were lined up with milk and the scoop of ice cream , awaiting only the flavour selection - these would only handle the initial "attack"by the hordes and after that the ladles into the refrigerated milk canisters would be flying with the occasional flying spill. Ice cream cones had to be dipped in chocolate well in advance to get the dipped chocolate to freeze. Soft drink cabinets had to be stocked hours before to chill the drinks. The till was checked for change. And we were ready Then , with gathering pace, seemingly in waves the assault came! Buses timed to arrive for the pictures would drop groups of 50 and 60 at a time and because of our location, we were the first Milk Bar of the three around the Picture Show that they encountered. It was hectic. Then it was over and we had to tidy up and set-up for interval. That was bedlam, as everyone was desperate to maximise their relaxation time by being first. It is great the way our minds go into "automatic"mode in such situations . They protect us from working through each transaction in detail, which would be exhausting. As it was, by the end of it all we were pretty well spent.

I enjoyed the work , and I think got to be pretty competent. The money could not have been huge, but I saved most of it ,as did Wallace, and by the end of the year we had enough to travel to Melbourne by train for a few days with my Mum acting as the responsible adult. All in all it was good experience well rewarded.

The Simpsons were very kind to me and I occasionally went with the family on "Sunday Drives". Their car was a 1934 Ford V8, which had belonged to Mrs Simpson's father I believe, but he- a former steam locomotive driver- could no longer drive. He suffered from senile dementia, poor man, and sat most of the day on the lounge looking straight ahead his lips trembling slightly, apparently having no more mental ability than to co-operate with those helping him up and to the table in response to the call "Daddy, Lunch/Dinner is ready..."

When I finished Third Year and was about to move from Lidcombe to Marist Brothers Darlinghurst next year(1955) Mum and Dad were keen that I should not be idle through the holidays and it was suggested that I should call on Father Lloyd the retired Parish Priest of Lidcombe who still lived in the Parish there.So I made an appointment and went to see this man who was a legend not only in the Parish but also in the Boxing fraternity of Sydney as its Chaplain ( I wonder if they still have one?)



Now a very old man, he was kind and thoughtful in receiving me and because of his many connection later was able to provide a contact with a Windscreen Wiper manufacturer in Wentworth Avenue near Central Station. I have always felt guilty that I did not take up the contact - I wasn't attracted to the idea of manufacturing work - sounds snobbish and unattractive but that was it - best to be honest.

Monday, December 19, 2016

1955 - 1956 ZEROING IN

It seems that the protracted cold referred to in my last post in July, last year(!!) froze my processes of recollection! In the last few days, a blast of heat reminiscent of my childhood years in 1944 and 1945, has however administered a jolt to the memory and summoned up the will ( it has also started the alleged "Global Warming" fanatics lifting their heads out of the long grass) .

So where was I , before I froze? Doesn't matter - I choose to resume by peering back to 1955 and 1956, come with me and see the cast of student characters assembled at Marist Brothers' Darlinghurst that was.

Marist Brothers Darlinghurst which was soon to be converted into expensive Apartments and a Town House



1955 4TH YEAR CLASS
ZEROING IN 1955 - MY BEST FRIEND AND FUTURE BROTHER-IN - LAW TONY HANNON EXTREME LEFT BACK ROW 







ZEROING IN 1956 TONY HAS MOVED TO THE RIGHT A LITTLE IN THE BACK ROW, WHILST YOUR SCRIBE HAS MOVED DOWN TO THE FOURTH ROW DOWN THIRD FROM THE RIGHT - AND HAS OBVIOUSLY BEEN WATCHING TOO MUCH LENI RIEFENSTAHL!


The photos above are now 57 and 56 years old respectively. It is interesting that what they do in my mind is summon up a series of brief thumb-nail sketches of a remarkably diverse range of rapidly forming personalities.  I can't share them all in full and one or two might be deemed libelous in any case, so I shall confine myself to a very few.


 It needs to be borne in mind, that the majority of the Class were longtime students of "Darlo"as it was affectionately known, but in the year I transferred in on my own, a group of boys from Marist Brothers Bondi, which had closed in an Archdiocesan Schools rationalisation, came to Darlo. I think about 10 of them were in our class, including Tony Hannon (now my Brother-in-Law). Tony and I  shared many interests in common, but especially History and movies and Goon Show humour. We frequently went to the movies together and bushwalking, and in later years each had a bewildering succession of cameras and cars. Zany humor was the order of the day and the Goon Show was the ideal grist for our mental mills. Here was a friendship that was to last through the decades and I would anytime trust my life to Tony.



I guess I was rather reserved with most people in those days , so I did not form close friendships with  students other than Tony - living 12-14 miles away to the West didn't help in that regard. I was always coming from, or going to, a different place to everyone else.



 I got to know a little and to like, the irrepressible Roger Constable, an engaging fellow, who delighted in projecting himself as a daring sort of rogue. He was a good guy with no harm in him that I saw. We ended up together in both Class Photographs above( he standing to my right as we look at the photo) and in 1955 the slight inclination of the head and my slightly contorted mouth show that he had just muttered one of his gags and I was trying to repress a laugh. By 1956 my Leni Riefenstahl training had overcome any such risk!



Considering the diverse make-up of Australian society to-day we can see  a very few indications of what was developing. The few Chinese students were affable fellows, super whizzes at Maths. The last of their number to arrive spoke almost no English and certainly had a very hard time as he began his 4th and 5th Year Studies!!He was very popular because of the way in which he struggled on in the face of this impossible adversity, and was always treated kindly in a jocular fashion becoming known as “ Curly” in that perverse type of Aussie humor!

An interesting phenomenon which I only realise now, as I write, was the fact that the subjects we took and the formal activities we engaged in, began to determine the possibilities of forming friendships, much more so than in earlier years of schooling. Thus school began to provide a foretaste of life in tertiary institutions and, indeed, life itself.



As I look on the photos now, I see those who went on to become a Solicitor – mover and shaker, a Barrister, a Doctor, a Dentist, several Teachers, and a briefly famous Merchant Banker. Strangely enough in all my years since school, apart from Tony Hannon for obvious reasons, I have only ever met two of those former fellow students. Considering the variety of circles in which I have moved, in The Commonwealth Bank, in the French Bank, in the Australian – American Association, in the Royal Australian Naval Reserve and in the Church in various places, that seems to me to be very unusual, and quite surprising.  But out of all of us, as far as I am aware, there was not one Priest, though I know at least 5 had considered the possibility, and I was briefly in the Minor Seminary in 1956. I often wonder what became of them all.



All too soon real life was to take us “cogs” up in its gearbox, and schooldays and their concerns and joys and pains would swiftly disappear in the rear vision mirror, as life moved into Top Gear whirring us away all over the place.







CELEBRATING CHRISTMAS

YOUR SCRIBE
As you know, I started this Blog for the use and I hope interest, of my children and their children and... well, you get the picture. That purpose still holds good. But along the way some kind folk from various parts of Australia and the rest of the world have dropped in to see what went on way back when. You are all most welcome , so don't feel you are intruding in any way.

I want to wish every one of you, but family of course most especially and whenever you might read this, a Happy Christmas now or in whatever year you are in(!), and to thank you for reading . I quite enjoy telling the stories and I hope you enjoy the reading of them. 

Special thanks to my Followers on Networked Blogs ,and on GOOGLE Friend Connect, for going that extra re-assuring (to me) step.

Life is good and God is Perfect so we should not be too surprised at this wonderful gift and at a loving Wife and marvellous Children and amazing Grandchildren and family all told , to share the gift of Life, and the Hope "that is in you" as St. Peter puts it - Eternal Life with God.That is, after all, what ITS ALL ABOUT!

1955-1956 MARIST BROTHERS DARLINGHURST PART III

I apologise for the poor quality of this image. The top Floor Classroom at this end was our Fifth Year Classroom and the one next to it away from the camera was our 4th Year Classroom. The fine building on the right was used for the Tuck Shop ( Is there an American equivalent for something so basic?) and a Sports Kit storage.area.The spiral staircase was quite a feature of the school building and relieved pressure on the enclosed stairway on the Southern (left hand side in this picture)
The heart of the School was provided by the Marist Brothers. Marist Brothers had educated me at Lidcombe and it was grand to have them again at Darlo. They had operated the School since it opened in the 1890's I believe. They are an Order of French origin, founded by Saint Marcellin Champagnat who was Beatified in May, 1955 by Pope Pius XII when I was in Fifth Year, and Canonised in April, 1999 by Blessed  Pope John Paul II in April, 1999. The Order seemed to attract and develop well- balanced men , though of course not free of the human foibles we all share. We became familiar with the French terminology used in the Order - the Mother House ( Maison Mere) was the worldwide headquarters. Interestingly, I was to encounter the same terminology many years later in the Banque Nationale De Paris - but that is another story.

The Principal at the time was Brother Fergus ( family name : McCann) whom I liked and admired immensely. He was an intelligent gentleman and a good teacher. He was a gentle soul who would try to see the good in everyone present and historical. He was, I am afraid too good a man for the likes of some of the students in our Class. As I have said, a number had repeated 5th year and were really, physically at least ,young men and he treated them and all of us accordingly. Regrettably some lagged in maturity of character and caused him a lot of unnecessary difficulty - he was too good for the likes of them. The next most senior teacher was Brother Cloman who was dubbed "Trigger"because the top of one of his fingers was missing. He was the ultimate in low key operating style. But the same feral oafs who sensed vulnerability in Brother Fergus and worked on it, were totally under Brother Cloman's thumb! Without histrionics, or raised voice, or physical gestures - with no seeming communication by sound or sight he seemed to exude an aura that affected them and shut down their "stirring"tendencies. It was wonderful to see, and all the more so because he was in no way pre-possessing in appearance! He was universally well liked.


The Internet never ceases to amaze. Here is the grave of Brother Fergus, died at 90 yrs in 2003 -
God rest his gentle soul.




Two other teachers were Brother Cassian and Brother Patrick. Brother Cassian had the nickname "Skull"( how merciless we were!) since he was thin and his skull was very evident. He taught Physics and Maths and was not popular - it was generally said of him that he must have lain awake at night thinking up his carefully crafted "impromptu"remarks! Brother Patrick was far more down to earth than the others, with a short fuse and a no nonsense manner. In 1955 he was the first person EVER to publicly call me ""Tony", when going around the Class putting faces to the list of names he had. It stuck well and truly! I had never liked it, and had always been called "Ant"or "Anth"in the family and at Marist Brothers Lidcombe it was "Dicko" as for many other boys Surname contraction or embellishment was used e.g. "Walshie". 

Brother Samuel who had taught me in Sixth Class at Lidcombe came to Darlo in 1956 but since he was teaching Primary School I did not have much to do with him. The last of the Brothers I recall was a young chap Brother Athanasius( a mighty Patron to live up to!) He took our Latin Class and had great trouble with one young fellow, whose name I had better not mention in case I might be deemed to sully his reputation, but he was a little terror and beyond rational control.

For the first time I encountered Lay Teachers here at Darlo. Mr. Connolly and Mr. Everingham were both good men, Mr.Connolly the younger ( perhaps 50) and the more likeable. He had lost a son due to illness I believe, and the trauma was reputed to be the cause of his virtual baldness save for a few irregular tufts of hair. He was also given a rough time by the usual suspects. Mr. Everingham was much older (60 Plus) and seemed rather crabby  and was not popular. The arrival of Lay Teachers into Catholic Schools may have been necessary as the number of religious vocations declined in the face of post-War prosperity and growing materialism, but it was quite adverse in its effect on the authentic Catholic spirit of our schools and the quality of Religious education.

Our Darlo years came to an end after we sat for the State Leaving Certificate examinations. To do this, we Darlinghurst Catholic School Students were required to go for several days to Cranbrook College (Anglican I think) a very expensive and snobby place which had a reputation for rather "limp-wristed boys"which was carefully nurtured by a ditty to the tune of the Sailors Hornpipe tune. It must not have been a reputation given only by our students because in later years I heard the same thing referred to on Radio National. Anyway we were set at some psychological disadvantage by the requirement. The reputation of the "Cranbrook"students was reinforced in our eyes when we found most of them falling in with their own "fashion"of getting about with their shirt collars turned up! We did not regard such affectations well!

The years of High School culminate in the Leaving Certificate results which have become a much more frenzied pre-occupation in recent decades. After a short period they fade quickly in importance as the real world takes over our lives. I did quite well in the exam and my now Brother-in law did somewhat better and Darlo acquitted itself quite well overall as I remember. Tony went on to University in the Arts Faculty , and I went on to St. Columba's Minor Seminary at Springwood. And that is another story!


1955-1956 MARIST BROTHERS DARLINGHURST PART II

ZEROING IN 1955 - MY BEST FRIEND AND FUTURE BROTHER-IN - LAW TONY HANNON EXTREME LEFT BACK ROW 

ZEROING IN 1956 TONY HAS MOVED TO THE RIGHT A LITTLE IN THE BACK ROW, WHILST YOUR SCRIBE HAS MOVED DOWN TO THE FOURTH ROW DOWN THIRD FROM THE RIGHT - AND HAS OBVIOUSLY BEEN WATCHING TOO MUCH LENI RIEFENSTAHL!
The photos above are now 56 and 55 years old respectively. It is interesting that what they do in my mind is summon up a series of brief thumb-nail sketches of a remarkably diverse range of rapidly forming personalities.  I can't share them all in full and one or two might be deemed libellous in any case, so I shall confine myself to a very few.

 It needs to be borne in mind, that the majority of the Class were longtime students of "Darlo"as it was affectionately known, but in the year I transferred in on my own, a group of boys from Marist Brothers Bondi, which had closed in an Archdiocesan Schools rationalisation, came to Darlo. I think about 10 were in our class, including Tony Hannon ( now my Brother-in-Law) . Tony and I shared many interests in common, but especially History and movies and Goon Show humour. We frequently  went to the movies and bushwalking and in later years .Each of us had a bewildering succession of cameras and cars, perhaps I led the race in the "bewildering range"area. Zany humor was the order of the day and the Goon Show was the ideal grist for our mental mills. Here was a friendship that was to last through the decades and I would still, anytime, trust my life to Tony.

I guess I was rather reserved in those days with most people so I did not form close friendships with other students - living 12-14 miles away to the West didn't help in that regard, I was always coming from or going to a different place to everyone else. I got to know a little and to like the irrepressible Roger Constable, an incorrigible wag who delighted in "stirring". There were several students who repeated 5th Year for their personal reasons. Whilst I didn't "hate"school I was impatient to be out in the world and independent of the regimented routine of school.

I particularly admired, but was not close to, several students for various  reasons : Bill Allport for his ultra modest manner and politeness coupled with academic ability and athletic success, Brian Wyndham for his manly bearing and good humour and outgoing personality - he was also accomplished as Drum Major in the School Cadets and Paul Langford for his quiet but friendly manner and genuine openness. The Class had varied outcomes in our lives one  student became a successful lawyer, another a doctor, another a dentist, another went into the Army , at least one a teacher ( my Brother-in- Law Tony with great distinction as a much admired Rugby Coach of Sydney Boys High and longtime enthusiastic and accomplished History Teacher) . Another was Bob Vagg who became media  famous for a time in the Financial Press as an "expert"executive of a major American Merchant Bank. But, several financial crises later that is not the sort of "darling"the media cultivates. 

I joined the Cadet Corps in 4th Year and saw the year out without distinction and did not sign up again for 5th Year. Interestingly, whilst re-reading the book "The Old School Tie"by Father John O'Neill the well-known Parish Priest of Doonside in Sydney's western suburbs, I came across a description that immediately brought to mind a Cadet Corps figure with outstanding clarity. The book is based on Father O'Neill's life together with that of another Priest friend. Names are fictionalised and some characters are "telescoped"for the purpose of the book, but it is all based solidly on fact.The hero and his friend and fellow Priest to be are both students at the Cathedral School and are members of the Cadet Corps.  The Permanent Army supervisor of the Cadet Unit at the School is "a World War Two and Korean War veteran, Sergeant Peter Irwin". When the two friends are at a mixed Schools Cadet Camp at Singleton and attendance at Sunday Mass makes them a tad late for breakfast in the Mess Hut the cook abuses them and won't serve them. The story goes on :
"He did not notice Sergeant Irwin standing near.
  Get breakfast for these men Cookie", said Irwin, They've been to Church Parade, I don't think we'll penalise them for being Christians."
The cook grumbled as he sloshed porridge into bowls, and slapped rounds of toast onto cold plates.
"Thank you Cookie", said Irwin. "Enjoy your breakfast gentlemen."
'Thank you Sir, they replied.
"If you can't enjoy it, offer it up"laughed the Sergeant as he walked away, and from that remark, the boys knew they had a fellow Catholic in high places."

Our Cadet Unit at Darlinghurst - just up the hill from St.Mary's Cathedral College was obviously supervised by the same man as the Cathedral College :- the smiling, manly Warrant Officer Sam Irwin who exuded an admirable competence, efficiency and self - possession that made him universally admired. He was every inch the professional soldier, and a great fellow.

Sunday, December 18, 2016

1954 CONFESSIONS OF STEAM LOCOMOTIVE ENTHUSIAST

"RAILWAY TRANSPORTATION" - WHILE OTHERS WERE READING FOOTBALL MAGAZINES


Just exactly when I became addicted to steam locomotives is a question I have never considered until now, as I write this. The 1952 school prize shows that I was already hooked then,and by that time I already had several books about "trains" as non-addicts would say. As a little boy at Christmas 1945 I believe it was, I was given a Hornby Train Set with a little four wheeled, clockwork, red  locomotive and two chocolate and cream passenger carriages. It was to last until the great railway disaster of about 1950, when the spring broke hurling the upper part some distance from the wheels!

It wasn't anything to do with my Grandad Beckmann having been a Signalman, because I don't recall any glimmer of the addiction in him. I think it must have been spontaneous. And there is just SOMETHING about a steam locomotive. It seems ALIVE.Its Brake Compressor 's panting seems like breathing, its Coupling Rods and Connecting Rods are like muscles flexing and its exhaust is a human like indication of effort and just like a human body it is warm and its whistle and Safety Valves are like human roars! At the beginning of the classic film documentary "A Steam Train Passes"made by the famous Australian Cinematographer Dean Semler, a retired Steam Locomotive Driver speaks about the feeling when the Regulator (Throttle) is opened up, the steam released into the cylinders and "life"is breathed into the locomotive which begins to move under the driver as all the complex forces come into play.
TRACKSIDE JUST EAST OF LIDCOMBE

The photo above is one I took one morning, having climbed through the fence to get right beside the track with my pathetic camera, to see what I could catch , when along came 3670 at a nice clip leaning slightly into the long gentle curve behind the rarely used Rookwood Station headed East. That was before the days of the Nanny State with its more serious fences , CCTV and heaven knows what else to prevent ANYTHING HAPPENING ANYWHERE,EVER! In those days the Railways contented themselves with printed Regulations displayed in every Waiting Room, making all sorts of things an Offence and threatening all manner of death and destruction if you disobeyed. But when you are young in the 1950's you know that it doesn't mean you....and if it could have, there was no-one to police it anyhow!



AND BY SHE RUSHES WITH MAGNIFICENT NOISE AND THE SMELL OF STEAM<OIL<SMOKE AND COAL- WHAT MORE COULD YOU ASK FOR?
Coming and going it was a great sight and experience! I used to write off around the world to different railway companies when I was about 10 years old for photos and details of their Locomotives and quite often got very good replies. I would carefully monitor the Shipping Notices for ships arriving from the U.S.A . which would be carrying the mail - international Air Mail was too expensive. And often some days later a nice fat letter would arrive full of the right stuff - I particularly remember one from the Norfolk and Western Railway full of pictures and info. on their magnificent locomotives with a Business Card from "Ben Bane Delaney"- there was a name to conjure with! His reply was generous in the materials supplied - I still have a Blotter ( ok folks, one used it to blot up excess ink when writing with pen and ink....no, you can just find out about that yourselves!) with a colour photo of a sleek "J "Class 4-8-4 on the back.

Another thing about steam locomotives is that each Class made a distinctive noise. So from miles away I could tell just what Class of Locomotive was passing. The C36 had a quite distinctive noise especially when coasting or just regaining speed after coasting - it was a hollow clanking sound, which I think was called Piston Slap and came from small amounts of condensation in the cylinders caused when coasting.

The love of steam locomotives is "in the blood"somehow. I have known two brothers in Brisbane to be badly ( wrong word actually, its a virtuous thing!) addicted , and a third brother unaffected! Poor fellow!

1960 MUSCLED ATHLETE OF THE SEA PART II A PRIVILEGE

H.M.A.S.VOYAGER AT SPEED
EVERY INCH A MUSCLED ATHLETE OF THE SEA

At the purely human level, one of the greatest privileges in my life was to be assigned to carry out two weeks training in the Daring Class Destroyer H.M.A.S. VOYAGER.

The Daring Class represented the ultimate development of British Destroyer design up to that time. They were beautiful ships in every respect, except in the Funnel design in my humble opinion, having an odd for'ard Funnel which appeared to grow out of a lattice mast and a rather thin after Funnel. But for all that, the overall impression was one of magnificent muscled power and speed. And that was the reality.

At around 3,600Tons Full Load Displacement and 390 feet in length and 43 feet in the beam they were far from small. The main armament was 6 4.5 inch guns in twin turrets at the traditional "A","B" and "Y" positions, plus 6 Bofors 40mm Anti-Aircraft guns in three twin mounts, together with 2  5 Tube 21" Torpedo Tube Mounts and 1 Limbo Anti-Submarine Mortar. For the time that was a pretty well packed set of muscles. Though the time was fast approaching when every part of that armament would be superseded, and then made rapidly obsolete again almost every 5 years. For the present, she was as good as it gets.

Deep in her hull were two Foster Wheeler water tube boilers and the 2 English Electric Steam Turbines which generated 54,000 Horsepower and drove her along at an announced 33 Knots. No doubt the reality was several more.

The R.A.N.'s 3 Darings VOYAGER,VENDETTA and VAMPIRE were all built in Australia, VOYAGER being the first all welded ship built in Australia. She was laid down at Cockatoo Island Dockyard in Sydney Harbour on 10.10.1949 and launched 1.5.1952 by Dame Pattie Menzies, wife of Prime Minister Sir Robert Menzies.


                              HMAS VOYAGER LEAVES SYDNEY FOR THE LAST TIME
                                     She was struck by HMAS MELBOURNE on the opposite(Port) side
                                           just abaft (behind) the second,higher "B"Gun Turret.

All of this magnificence was given life by 20 Officers and 300 Ratings.

The Foster Wheeler Boilers proved a continuing source of problems, and, less significantly, help me date the time of my service aboard VOYAGER. On 30th April, 1959 an explosion in one of the Boilers from a burst water tube caused severe damage necessitating ultimately the replacement of 300 sections of tubing. Repairs were carried out and she re-entered service. In March, 1960 there was another Boiler explosion with far less damage. She returned to Sydney and was refitted between June and November. It must have been during the working-up exercises after the refit that I was aboard. I clearly remember that she was coming out of refit and that our trips to sea were for test purposes.

On one particular day we received orders that safety ropes were to be rigged on the upper deck which was nevertheless to be cleared, because the ship would be working up to maximum speed at 33 knots and then stopping as quickly as possible to effect a maximum build up of steam in the Boilers. Engineers from Foster and Wheeler were aboard with equipment to monitor the test results. Away we went, sadly there was nothing to see except for those on the Bridge, but the noise of the Turbines was whining throughout the ship (though whining seems inadequate to describe a noise demonstrating such power).

Then we stopped - no Turbine noise...BUT....no explosion either. After about 20minutes, our muscled marine athlete came about and at an economical speed slowly headed back to Garden Island Dockyard in Sydney Harbour.

I was working in the ship's office under Chief Petty Officer Derek Smith. He was a really nice bloke, very manly and serious about his work. Our small office was certainly a very busy place with deadly serious business like the Sailors' pay, leave arrangements and family emergencies to attend to, as well as the Supply Officer's catering allowances per man, to be recorded and accounted for. We also had the role of preparing Warrants for the Arrest of men who went AWOL.
The Commanding Officers of H.M.A. Ships have the power to issue legally enforceable Warrants for the Arrest of members of their ships' crews. The surprising thing was that most of the sailors who jumped ship did so after widely announcing their intention to crew mates, or, in circumstances such as a wife giving birth to a baby, that made it totally obvious where they would be. Everyone knew that they would not be on the run for long before they were picked up and brought back for punishment and return to duty.

HMAS VOYAGER'S CREST


As a Chief Petty Officer, Derek Smith would periodically have to share the duty roster with other Chiefs, to go on Shore Patrol when the Ship was in port. He told me how he loathed this duty with its unpleasant and risky round of tracking down our ratings in trouble - usually in those days- due to excessive drinking, which could often lead to irrational violence as efforts were made to get them out of trouble. He was particularly anxious to avoid any drunken sailor striking the Officer of the Watch when coming back aboard, since the Officer and his attendant Ratings would be at the brow as the man was dragged or carried abroad... whilst drunkenness ashore would normally get the man on Captain's Defaulters, Striking an Officer was an absolute Court Martial offence. I have seen Officers discreetly make themselves scarce in such circumstances, not to avoid being hit, but to protect the rating from committing a Court Martial offence!

Naval Discipline was ever mindful of the lessons of the long history of the Navy. For example in some cases the Captain's Quarters and Day Cabin featured the sign "Joint Complaints will not be entertained."The memories of Mutinies were VERY long!

Of course I was not a fair dinkum crew member of VOYAGER even though technically so. But one could not fail to be proud to be in ANY sense and in ANY way, part of this mighty Team. Even the lowest I.Q. Sailor knew he was part of something SPECIAL. VOYAGER could hold her head high in any company and they were all determined to let the world know it.

The Ship's Captain was D.C. Wells.

I thoroughly enjoyed my time aboard VOYAGER and learned a great deal about the realities of daily life in the Navy and even more about what it is to be a Ship's Company- that band of men identified with their home and workplace and means of fighting and of defending themselves and their Country- it is a potent and somehow mysterious mix, but it has a very real and meaningful life.

THE LOSS OF H.M.A.S. VOYAGER AND 82 OF HER SHIP'S  COMPANY

On the morning of Tuesday 11th February, 1964, I woke and went out to pick up our copy of the SYDNEY MORNING HERALD from the front verandah. As I unrolled the paper I was appalled by the Banner Headlines announcing that H.M.A.S.  VOYAGER had been sunk during the night in a collision with the Aircraft Carrier H.M.A.S. Melbourne off Jervis Bay on the South Coast of New South Wales.
DAMAGED BOW OF HMAS MELBOURNE AFTER THE COLLISION


82 of the Ship's Company had died, including VOYAGER's Captain at the time Captain Duncan Stevens.

In all her years of service, VOYAGER had never fired her guns in anger.

The aftermath of the Collision was itself a fresh tragedy in two acts. Two Royal Commissions were held into the collision. One in 1964 and a second, following allegations made by Lieutenant Commander Peter Cabban and the dogged persistence of Mr St.John QC.M.P., in 1968. The first Royal Commission had in effect tried to protect the reputation of Captain Stevens at the expense of damning Captain Robertson of MELBOURNE. It was a shameful business. The Second in 1968, despite shameful testimonies given by senior officers trying to sustain the first version, got it right. VOYAGER was in the wrong and her Captain was responsible. It transpired that he had a drinking problem which was well known in the Service.

As if the Royal Commission experiences were not enough disgrace, Australian Governments of both sides of politics, over the 45 years after the collision, so disgracefully dragged their feet on meeting compensation claims from survivors of the disaster, that the last claim was not settled until 2009! Everyone associated with those delays, which surely could not have been anything but deliberate, should hang their head in shame.
LOST WITH 82 OF HER SHIP'S COMPANY
MAY THEY  REST IN PEACE

It seems to beggar belief, but on 3rd June, 1969 H.M.A.S. MELBOURNE once again ran down, and cut in two another destroyer, U.S.S. FRANK E. EVANS with the loss of 74 of EVANS  Ship's Company. Although the Joint R.A.N. /U.S.N. Board of Inquiry found both ships and one Australian and Four Americans at fault, subsequent Courts Martial found the Australian NOT GUILTY and the Americans GUILTY. It became known that the Commanding Officer of the EVANS was asleep in bed during the night flying exercise at the time of the collision, and one of the Officers of the Watch had failed to pass his Officer of the Watch examination and the other was in his first posting at sea.

If anyone unfamiliar with Naval matters is reading this, they should know that during flight operations, all ships attending an Aircraft Carrier are BOUND to stay out of her way. The reason is simple: the Carrier needs to maximize the wind over her flight deck to assist aircraft taking off, and must be absolutely free to turn into the wind whenever she needs to do so. In each case, both VOYAGER and EVANS, the offending vessel's Watch lost the tactical picture". That is to say, they became confused about their position in relation to the Carrier. In each case, by the time their true position became clear, it was too late to avoid collision, given the relatively slow reaction time of a ship to its helm.

Daring Class Destroyer keepng Plane Guard Station astern of HMAS MELBOURNE by day.
 82 and 74 men lost their lives unnecessarily, and years of pain and suffering and shame, both rightful and wrongful ensued.

1955-1956 TRAVELLING TO SCHOOL

It must have been about a 16 miles journey from my home in Berala in the Western Suburbs to Marist Brothers Darlinghurst on the Eastern side of the City. I walked to Berala Station most days (10 minutes) or occasionally to Lidcombe (20-25 minutes)  to catch the suburban electric train to Sydney  Central Station.
There were still a few of these sad-faced ""Bradfield "cars in service - the only advantage they offered was a front passenger window -fun for kids to get a driver's eye view (a few of the more modern trains were similarly equipped at the time.)

The typical electric train of the day is shown in the photo below. Occasionally one of the Bradfield Driving Cars shown above would form part of the train, and more often, there were wooden trailer cars in the consist. However, after the Berala and Sydenham (I think) electric train crashes, the shattering of the wooden cars and increased casualties, meant that they were quickly phased out.

Standard electric train of my school days - to me they ere the iconic "face "of Sydney.Most were built in the U.K. as the brass plates I had to step over on boarding the train announced

.
There were still then, and for years to come, regular daily peak hour steam trains from Riverstone to Central stopping at Parramatta, Lidcombe and Strathfield,and Redfern where the zealots would hop off and RUN up and across the overbridge to catch an earlier City  underground electric train)  and there were always good crowds  on Lidcombe's No.1 Platform   
to take advantage of the express run to Central ( or Redfern as we have seen).

This is the "best"picture I could come up with of a C32 pulling a train of American corridor and end platforms, suburban cars , but I'm still looking!

These steam trains were hauled by C32 Class 4-6-0s dating from 1891 and they hauled American designed central corridor carriages with open entry platforms at either end. These carriages were also products of the 1880's. So the whole train was an operating Museum piece. There had been 191 of the C32 Class locomotives built, and all were still in service up to the time I left School, but the very next year, 1957 the first casualty came : 3264 was derailed and very badly damaged at Otford in January,1957. Four of the Class  survive in preservation and 2 are operational.

Arriving at Central, I would hurry off down the stairs and out to the ramp leading down to Eddy Avenue which crosses the Northern frontage of the huge Station. There, I would hop aboard a Tram for the trip left into Elizabeth Street up the hill to Mark Foy's magnificent Department Store , then a grinding 90 degrees turn into Liverpool Street and at the College Street intersection a brief glimpse of the College perched high on its hill at the top of the continuation of Liverpool Street and the Tramlines curved away to the right for the run up Oxford Street to Taylor Square. Oxford Street was the still in decline as the 1926 Underground Railway into the City had caused the CBD to flourish whilst all the pre 1926 fashionable places -Broadway, Railway Square, Oxford Street slowly died back.

My favourite Trams were the type seen just entering the picture below from the Left they were the oldest around and by far the most numerous.


Trams at Eddy Avenue in front of Sydney's great Central Station
At Taylor Square I began the walk North East ish to the College past the High Court on the right along what I later learned was the notorious" Wall" where at night, perverts picked up their "rent boys".Some of those using their services have been reported in later years as a member of the Police Commision and a High Court Judge . Ignorance was bliss. On the other side of the Wall was the old Darlinghurst Jail - now an Art School - I never went in.

And so I got to School.

Coming home the process was reversed, except that at Taylor Square I used to catch a Double Decker Bus down to Central - I guess because they may have run more frequently than the Trams at that time of day to Central.

I can't resist recounting a little anecdote that has stuck in my mind. One afternoon I was crossing Oxford Street to catch the Bus to Central at the Taylor Square stop, and had just passed a little old lady, dressed in a tired black cloth coat and wearing a small black hat, thinking to myself "poor little old thing"when a car suddenly surged by coming rather close to her . My Lol rounded on it swinging her handbag and screaming lustily "You f......B......!" I was gobsmacked! I have always been more cautious in awarding the title Little Old Lady ever since!

A heavily re-touched 1947 photo of Double decker buses at Taylor Square
where I used to catch them in the afternoon on way home from school.

N.B. "re-touching"was a manual process in the days before PHOTOSHOP.