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| MOTHER'S MATE CALLS |
I have tried to identify the point in my life at which I began to take the family, community and national memory of World War I seriously, so far without success. Perhaps in writing this post I shall stumble across it.
My earliest memories of the "idea" of the first World War are of images of rather absurd looking flickering figures walking in a jolting fashion in odd uniforms. There was always at my Grandma Dixon's house among the large depressing photo portraits around the Lounge Room wall a young soldier, left profile,eyes raised slightly as if gazing on some distant scene. I believe his name was Patrick Boyd and that he was my Grandma Dixon's uncle(?) who died in 1919,just after the War. The family spoke as if he had died because of the War, I have yet to prove that.I wonder now if his death had any influence on my Grandad's later heavy drinking and brutish behaviour. There was never any talk of him serving in that War.
Then too, I saw in many places War Memorials, most small with names I came to realise were the dead, inscribed below, and surmounted by a soldier standing at attention and resting on arms reversed, and in the heart of Sydney City the solemn Cenotaph which I always had learned to respect
My earliest memories of the "idea" of the first World War are of images of rather absurd looking flickering figures walking in a jolting fashion in odd uniforms. There was always at my Grandma Dixon's house among the large depressing photo portraits around the Lounge Room wall a young soldier, left profile,eyes raised slightly as if gazing on some distant scene. I believe his name was Patrick Boyd and that he was my Grandma Dixon's uncle(?) who died in 1919,just after the War. The family spoke as if he had died because of the War, I have yet to prove that.I wonder now if his death had any influence on my Grandad's later heavy drinking and brutish behaviour. There was never any talk of him serving in that War.
Then too, I saw in many places War Memorials, most small with names I came to realise were the dead, inscribed below, and surmounted by a soldier standing at attention and resting on arms reversed, and in the heart of Sydney City the solemn Cenotaph which I always had learned to respect
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| SYDNEY CENOTAPH DAWN SERVICE ANZAC DAY |
Even in my early teens, as other histories more remote came to attract my reading attention, World War I seemed to strike a stubborn streak in my mind - it was boring, old-fashioned, irrelevant. Perhaps this had something to do with the fact that my early years were spent in the midst of World War II still the great reality of my early teens, filling movie houses, books, magazines. Maybe it made World War I seem as it did.
Do you know? I think writing in order to think something through, works. That was obviously it.
Do you know? I think writing in order to think something through, works. That was obviously it.
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| Off on my first visit to Canberra ,the National Capital in 1957/58. The diesel railcar set was the latest thing operating as the Canberra-Monaro Express. Rail fans of the time spoke of its speed as low flying! Lol! I doubt it passed 80 mph. |
But as time went on,WWII 's colours began to fade, and I visited our Nation's Capital Canberra for the first time. There I visited the great War Memorial, which at the time was still principally concentrating on World War I in its magnificent displays.Now, I began to understand the terrible reality of that "War to end all Wars", and what it had meant to the infant Australia and the World.
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| AUSTRALIAN WAR MEMORIAL, CANBERRA |
Australia lost 61,966 Military Deaths or 1.38% of her total population of 4.5 millions at the time.
United States 116,708 " " " 0.13% " " " " " 92 " " " " .
That visit drew the veil away, the psychological barrier in my mind, and I came at last, to rationally think about the Great War. I was then about 17 and working for the Solicitor for Railways. I travelled to Canberra on my Railway Employee's once a year free Pass. I got more value out of that journey than I could have hoped for.
As the years have gone by, with the advent of television and growing publishing interest in World War I and then the arrival of the Internet ( how blessed we are to live in the Internet era!) my interest has grown and grown. And I have discovered Private Billy Wilson, my maternal Grandmother's brother, whom I knew had called his beautiful young sister "Doll's eyes", was blown to pieces at Armentieres.
And as if by magic, young Australians and older ones, are flocking to Anzac Day Services around the World each year in GROWING numbers at Gallipoli, Villers Bretonneux and now Fromelles. Just as I have over the years, come alive to that great tragedy, and its significance, so have many others and their children and their children's children.
Truly, of those who gave their lives, it can be said::
'THEIR NAME LIVETH FOR EVERMORE"
As the years have gone by, with the advent of television and growing publishing interest in World War I and then the arrival of the Internet ( how blessed we are to live in the Internet era!) my interest has grown and grown. And I have discovered Private Billy Wilson, my maternal Grandmother's brother, whom I knew had called his beautiful young sister "Doll's eyes", was blown to pieces at Armentieres.
And as if by magic, young Australians and older ones, are flocking to Anzac Day Services around the World each year in GROWING numbers at Gallipoli, Villers Bretonneux and now Fromelles. Just as I have over the years, come alive to that great tragedy, and its significance, so have many others and their children and their children's children.
Truly, of those who gave their lives, it can be said::
'THEIR NAME LIVETH FOR EVERMORE"
