En KINDLED

A knock at the door on Friday, the UPS Man hands me a light weight box , and I am catapulted into the outer regions of the electronic "envelope"!!

Thanks to the amazing generosity of my daughter Justine, and her husband Paul, I am now the proud and enthusiastic owner of a KINDLE 3G E-Reader. Stunning ! Imagine carrying around an item the size of a small format Paperback, capable of containing 3,500 books and able to facilitate search within any one or all of them, that remembers what page you are up to in the one's you are reading etc., etc.

Needless to say I am immeasurably grateful, and impatient to extend the library to facilitate my reading and reference work for my Blogs and FOUNDATION.One of my early coups has been to load Whiston's Complete Works of Flavius Josephus for about $5-00 - the paperback of one of his works costs $ 34 !
Let me know if I get boring about Kindle - but the possibilities! Already I am re-reading in the Kindle Edition "The Passion and Death of Our Lord Jesus Christ"by Archbishop Alban Goodier S.J. and reading for the first time the Autobiography of Ulysses S. Grant- just as terrific a read as my Brother-in -Law Tony Hannon said it is!

*1944 THE WAR AT SEA COMES HOME

H.M.S. Repulse British Battle cruiser ( in 1916) sunk with H.M.S. Duke of York Battleship on 10th December, 1941, when attacked by 350 Japanese land based Aircraft.The giant ships had been sent without escort to shore up defences in the East.

The war at sea was very much in the mind of Australians during WW II - and rightly so. The phrase "tyranny of distance"had yet to be coined, but if any phrase covered our situation it might have been "splendid isolation" - so that our safety depended on sea power, and our Royal Australian Navy was fairly large in relation to our small population of only 3.5 Million.Even so, given our enormous coastline, it was really inadequate and we relied heavily on our "great and powerful friends""Mother"Britain and our American "cousins".

As time would tell, "Mother"did not succeed in "coming to our aid"until the show was almost over and the British Pacific Fleet was formed late in the war. It was not lost on the Australian public that Australian ships, soldiers and airmen had , from 1939 served with the British throughout the European and North African theatres.The bulk of them were not withdrawn until the Japanese threat was revealed.

But the War at Sea came home to Berala in 1944. My brother Pat finished his secondary schooling at Marist Brothers 'Lidcombe in 1943 at the end of Third Year as was the custom for most young fellows of the time - very few went on to Matriculate and go to University. The famed Parish Priest of Lidcombe was Father Lloyd who was a legend in Sydney for his ministry to the Boxing fraternity. He was equally famous in the Parish of Lidcombe for getting young fellows leaving school at the Brothers ' jobs. The Great Depression never really ended in peacetime and getting jobs was a tough assignment. Well, Father Lloyd did it regularly , and he got young Pat Dixon a job with the American owned JANTZEN ( "the Trademark is the Jantzen Diving Girl"said the jingle on the wireless) swimwear factory out on Parramatta Road, Lidcombe as a machine mechanic apprentice.This suited the young 16 years old for some months, but in 1944 he got the idea in his head that he wanted to join the Navy.

And so the War at Sea came to our home. By this stage of 1944 it was clear that we - the Allies- were winning the war and that nothing could reverse that trend.( In fact I grew up with the moral certainty that we would win the War , and except at the end of 1941 in the East, and a little later in Europe, I gather that was the case with adults as well.) My Mum and Dad were firmly opposed to their 16yrs old Pat, who had a good job, going needlessly into the Navy. The battle was largely engaged in the evenings , after I had been put to bed.The salvos were then fired back and forth. Sometimes pleading, sometimes angrily on either side. This went on for weeks it seems to me.It was so memorable because ours was normally a very peaceful household. Then a decisive intervention took place. Pat's boss at JANTZEN, a very nice fellow apparently , with the exotic name of Andy Ortega - himself an American I think, wrote a letter to Mum and Dad saying how pleased he was with Pat's work and what a bright future he had with JANTZEN, and urging them not to consent to their son enlisting (a  consent that was necessary for anyone under 18yrs). That put Pat's case back several paces and steeled Mum and Dad's resolve. I have an idea that Brother Loyola, the tough little Headmaster at Lidcombe was also pressed into service on Mum and Dad's side at some stage. Finally it was over. The family was to have no association  with the Navy. At least, not until I joined the R.A.N. Reserve in the 1960's.But that is another story.

*THANK YOU IRELAND !

My dear Mum & Dad on the right, but one of the heroes of this post is Father Cornelius "Con"Donovan a true son of Ireland and graduate of All Hallows Seminary.

Father Con Donovan was a big man by any measure.He was born in Araglen, County Cloyne on 2nd December, 1897 .His education began at the National School, and he went on to Mt. Melleray College. In due course he graduated from the National University in Dublin in 1920 as a Bachelor of Arts.He was ordained Priest on 15th June, 1924 at All Hallows College the famed Seminary in Dublin. He very soon left for Australia, arriving on Melbourne Cup Day, 1924.He served as Assistant Priest in Camperdown, Bondi, Annandale, Mt.Carmel, Gosford, Broadway and Enfield. He was briefly Administrator of Lawson Parish and on 14th July, 1938 he was appointed Parish Priest of Berala by Archbishop Kelly to replace another Irishman Father Carmody who was terminally ill.
He had been instructed to build a Presbytery. Many years later he recalled "I was ordered to build a presbytery when I came here but, you see, the numbers of children wanting to come to school increased so much that we were forced to build a Parish School first." so, Father Donovan came to live for 12 years under the care of the McLean family in the Regents Park Hotel...."the most difficult time of my life"he later recalled whilst praising the McLean family.
On 28th January, 1940 the new Archbishop, Norman Gilroy blessed the foundation stone of the new Church/School on Regents Street, where I was to be schooled from 1946 to 1949 - 1st Class to 4th Class. The day is recorded as being extremely hot at over 40 Degrees Celsius.The new building was opened less than 5 months later on 9th June, 1940.The old wooden Church/School up on Kingsland Road, which had originally been sited in Fourth Avenue behind Grandma Dixon's house in Third Avenue, would become the Parish Hall. It was in this aged building that the First Communion Breakfast for my classmates and me was set up in 1947.
The Church/School was a great success. At the Eastern end was the Sacristy, Sanctuary Confessional and three rows of pews.Here Father Donovan said Holy Mass each morning and, on Friday evenings after school was finished, we kids had immense fun opening the huge folding doors between the classrooms and the final one to the Sanctuary. Then there was the best fun , racing the seats down the length of the building to turn the whole into a Church for Sunday Masses.
None of your wimpy 9.00am Post Conciliar Masses then - morning Mass, winter through to Summer was at 6.00 am.- up the hill I would go on First Fridays , always beaten by the old gents and ladies who in these pathetic times are "too frail"for Mass before 9.00 a.m. There were good numbers of us kids. And the Nuns were there en bloc - an example to everyone . And then there was dear Father Donovan.The vestments we have come to know as "Roman"were always perfect, the Maniple from time to time a minor problem.we had a Gong struck by the Altar Boy, rather than a Bell. However, there was a small silver bell kept in the Nun's pews in case the designated Altar Boy failed to appear for any reason.Then one of the Sisters could do the necessary without entering the Sanctuary -  it was rarely necessary.
Several memories are stirred by this account. One morning after the 6.00 a.m.Mass Father Donovan beckoned to me and asked if I would take the Mass Kit Box up to the Convent on Kingsland Road. "Yes Father was the keen reply". Father brought the Box with its sacred contents of Chalice , Paten etc. and passed it to me , impressing on me its sacred character. Off I went up the grassed acreage toward the Convent full of devout concentration - too much so it seems, for I tripped and the box fell to the ground. I picked myself up, and the Box , which had not opened, and - grateful for my good fortune, delivered it to the Sisters who cared for it until the following day. That was that - I thought.
About ten days later, from his great height , Father Donovan called to me " Antonny!" - "Good Morning Father" "Antonny, when you took the Mass Kit Box to the Convent , was there a problem?"A benign look down from his great height....""Ummmmm, Yes Father, I tripped and the box fell to the ground ......But it didn't open!!" "Don't worry, it caused a little dint in the Chalice , but I have had it repaired and its OK - I just wanted to know. Don't worry now!"And that was that!
On another occasion a mate and I went into the chapel which the Sanctuary end of the building became during the week to pay a visit to the Blessed Sacrament. Somehow our devotion must have lapsed, and his eyes lit onto the silver Bell used by the Nuns when the Altar Boy wasn't present.He dared me to ring it. Evidently I was more daring at 6/7 years of age than later, because I did and then swiftly returned to my kneeler in the pew. But the tinkle of the silver Bell did not go unheard. To our horror we heard the rustle of a Religious Habit and the jangle of Rosary Beads as one of the Nuns came swiftly along the Verandah
About a year later, after Mass one morning Father Donovan asked me to be an Altar Boy - my head was full of wild confusion  - I really was delighted to be asked and desperately wanted to be an Altar Boy. BUT I was painfully shy, and I found myself saying against my real wishes "No thank you Father ". Father Donovan was obviously perplexed and once more urged me to accept but my embarrassment only grew - I said "No thank you"again  - and that was that. There was no reason Father should understand my decision, Heaven knows I was so conflicted in my head I didn't understand!!The subject was never raised again, and I was free of the risk of embarrassing myself by making a fool of myself on the Altar.
Father Donovan was far from being eloquent, in fact in one to one discussion he was a little awkward as became obvious when he made his Parish visitation and called at our home. My Father was even more awkward in any difficult situation, and Father sought to get him back to attending Mass. No luck....that would not happen until years later when Mum had been terribly ill.But we all loved Father very much and appreciated how much he had given up to leave family and friends and his beloved Ireland to come and look after our spiritual welfare. He was a good and faithful and true Priest whom I would love to be able to thank in Heaven.He completed a remarkable building programme Convent, Presbytery,several School expansion projects up to High School and a fine new Church - built before the Pizza Hut design era.Father Donovan died at age 78 on 30th December, 1975- Requiescat in Pace.

We had another gift from Ireland , in the person of Sister Austin . I have no photograph of her, but she was the Superior of the little communty of Sisters of Saint Joseph who taught at our Convent School in St. Peter Chanel's Parish. Sister Austin was kind and concerned for our well-being in every way. I loved the way, in her Irish lilt she called me "Ant'ny". She made our Primary schooling a very special experience along with Sister Alan, Sister Christina and others. They were devout and selfless women, kind and gentle and dedicated to our well-being.Nothing "I  gotta be me" about them.Saint Mary Mackillop of the Cross would have no trouble recognising them - unlike some to-day in Country Road clothes , bangle and necklaces and footy scarves!

Thank you Father Donovan, Sister Austin and companions AND THANK YOU IRELAND!

....AND TO-DAY YOU ARE SIX YEARS OLD!

Grandad and baby Josephine Dixon.

How beautifully she has grown!   HAPPY SIXTH BIRTHDAY      -   Josephine Alexandra Dixon!!!!

..........................."AND 23 MILLION BLACKS"

SOUTH AFRICAN NAVY FLEET OILER AND SUPPLY SHIP PROTEA BROADLY SIMILAR TO SAS TAFELBERG

Between October and November, 1968 two South African Navy frigates and the Fleet Auxiliary TAFELBERG paid a courtesy visit to several Australian cities. The squadron was in Sydney from 2nd to the 8th of November and the vessels were berthed at Garden Island with the TAFELBERG alongside the Northern most wharf.

As a member of the Executive of the Junior Australian- American Association I, along with a number of my colleagues, was on the Royal Australian Navy's hospitality invite list. So it happened that a group of us , among many others was invited to a Cocktail Reception aboard the TAFELBURG.

There was at the time the beginning of a thaw in South African - Australia relations which had been severely strained over the Apartheid issue.So there was a little anxiety on our part as to how the evening would go. It was to prove very revealing,

We had a very fine view up the Harbour to the Harbour Bridge. The hospitality was generous and the immaculately turned out officers were doing their best to be good hosts and succeeding well,despite a perceived awkwardness on both sides. Making small talk whilst sipping a drink and looking toward the Bridge backed by the declining Sun, I asked the young officer I was chatting with : "How many people are there in South Africa?" He promptly answered "" About 3.5 millions" and lapsed into a silence which lasted so long I expected to hear no more. Then after at least 30 seconds he said : "And about 23 Million Blacks."

I had lost any desire/curiosity to hear more, and could hardly wait until I could decently excuse myself and be gone. What got to me was that the fact that the appropriate answer of "26.5 Millions"did not occur to him. The 23Million Blacks were nothing but an afterthought, they didn't count.

I doubt anyone was more surprised than me when South Africa made a relatively peaceful transition to full democracy in 1994.

*1945 - END OF THE WAR - "I KNOW THAT!"

2nd September,1945 - Japanese Surrender
 aboard U.S.S. MISSOURI in Tokyo Bay.

H.M.A.S. Warramunga( I )

On Wednesday, 15th August, 1945 the Feast of the Assumption of Our Lady, I can recall be roused from bed by the sound of the elder daughter of our friends across the street calling out at the back flyscreen door. I got to the door at the same time as my Mum who had been busy elsewhere in the house. The young Judith Dryden called out joyfully "The War is Over!" - I was not impressed. "I know that", I said, "It happened a long time ago ""  - "No! That was the Germans! Now the Japanese have surrendered and it is all over!"

The interesting thing about this very clear memory, to me at any rate, is that I knew enough about what was going on at age 5 for the German surrender to register, but not enough to know that the Japanese were yet to be brought to heel.

The actual formal surrender of the Japanese took place on 2nd September,1945 in Tokyo Bay aboard the mighty battleship U.S.S. MISSOURI which enjoyed the nickname "Big Mo", also present was H.M.A.S. WARRAMUNGA which had been part of MISSOURI's destroyer screen. She was irreverently dubbed "Little Mo"by the Aussies.

The imposing figure of General Douglas Mac Arthur - not a perfect man - but one of my heroes nonetheless, accepted the Japanese surrender. He later ruled Japan absolutely under an Allied mandate, and did so with noble distinction, concluding with the transfer to democracy he had engineered.

*1945 -IMPRESSED? - IT KNOCKED MY SOCKS OFF!



H.M.S. ILLUSTRIOUS 23,500 tons WW II Aircraft Carrier.



The great Graving Dock at Sydney's Garden Island Dockyard - largest in the Southern Hemisphere.

In mid -1945, H.M.S.ILLUSTRIOUS was in Sydney's Garden Island Graving Dock for repairs after being hit by two Kamikaze suicide bombers off Okinawa.(Thank you internet.) The planes had caused damage deep below the waterline after penetrating her armoured flight deck with their bomb loads. The damage must have been severe, because she had initial repairs in the Phillipines , these repairs in Sydney and then again more repairs at Rosyth when she got home to England.

My Dad  worked at the Dockyard during the War, being unfit for military service due to an eye injury sustained in Newlands Iron Foundry near Central Station where he had commenced work when he was 11 years old (those were the days!). Now, in the declining days of the War, Dad was able to take me into the Dockyard on one of his days off. I have never forgotten the sight of the biggest hole I had EVER seen with a vast Aircraft Carrier sitting high and dry within it!

There are not too many details you recall from age 5, but the name ÏLLUSTRIOUS"was seared on my memory by that truly awesome sight for this little blond haired boy. It is probably there and then that the seeds of my love of ships and the sea were planted.