As a boy we'd fly to Tassy, Sheffield to holiday on my pops farm just out of Sheffield. We'd cart in hay, milk cows and catch rabbits.
During our 6 week stay we'd drive to a nearby location called Paradise on the doorstep of the beautiful Mt Roland. It was my other uncles farm on my dads side.. My uncle Jack seemed a stern hard man, fact is I'd learned 50 years later that he was a sensitive broken man. We'd catch eels, eat raspberries and ride on the tractor.
Uncle was 82yo when he passed by his own hand.
JACKS BOOTS
(In honour of my uncle Jack of Sheffield Tasmania)
Walk a mile in my shoes they yell
Especially those that think its hell
But hell for them, those cottoned men
Is nothing compared to way back then
They, the soldiers took their wit
And packed their rations and smoked a bit
For it was, had among the slush and skin
How could we know- to be like them?
Our family had such a heroic fighter
Jack went off to snuff the sniper
Only to return to memories sad
Like all the others, one breath from mad.
I recall as he sat in a humble chair
Chatting to his bro and I was there
Left the war, the stories, the tales
In that slush and mud on Kokoda trail
I wanted to walk in his long black shoes
A mile or two but he refused
His way to protect, his manner to hide
The facts of Kokoda he would not confide
And as his passing went the way he chose
None could walk that mile he strode
For his honour to protect, a bloody good bloke
His lasting wish for his home folk
So when they say walk a mile in his shoes
And you think you have but naught to lose
But try as you might through cursing and hoots
Wed never get our feet to fit.Jacks fighting boots
My father in law was coming up to eighty when one ANZAC Day open up to me about his time with WW2, he only skipped around the subject but I was told more in 2 hours then he had said about WW2 in 60 years.
The story unfolded when I asked mother in law where and what you were doing the day the war was declared ended.
I only found out recently that my old man who passed quite a few years ago had been wounded in WW11. I also found out he was on a ship involved with the Hunt for the Bismark, He was also on the Murmansk Convoys. Involved with the Danish Resistance movement. Five medals from different war theatres.Went to Borneo for the anti communist battles.
Sent to Tanganyika for the Officer rebellion.
Never ever spoke a word about any of those things or what he went through.
Eaglemax's post says a lot about all the soldiers who went off to war and we have no idea what it would be like to walk in their shoes.
We just know we wouldn't fit their boots.
Eaglemax has done his uncle proud, a very deep and profound honour to his uncle Jack
my father was captured at Dunkirk.Spent 5 years p.o.w. in Poland work camps .Was on the Lamsdorf death march jan 1945.He was released by General Pattons 3rd army.
He told me a few stories what he had seen in5 years Not like ;;HOGANS HEROES;;peoples inhumanity to other beings.
He had nightmares for quite a few years passed away 1996 cheers roker
Thanks for the post eaglemax. My ole man served in Middle East, Tobruk, Kokoda, Borneo, Sulawesi before demobilisation in Townsville in 1944.
Here's a couple of excerpts from his diary -
April 1941 - Tobruk
Had a few raids, a few eggs dropped about us and on the hospital, blew in Wards 9, 10, 11 and killed a few patients and one of our Majors and an orderly N.G. Later on in the night while I was on Night duty in Ward 2 and had the shock of my life. Also bombed the beach and the total killed was between 40 and 60 patients and staff.
On tent pitching. Had a lot of air raids throughout the day. No night raids, the first for about a week. Mostly tin food out here.
I turned 21 years of age today and Jimmy Smith was 28. Had a-raid at 1800 hours and a few bombs fell in the town.
Had an early raid at 0400 hours, bombs dropped in the hospital site. Only one got killed, only about 100 yards from our dugout. Going to make a trench further away from the tents.
Had several air raids during the night, most of patients sleep out amongst the rock near the beach.
Had a swim and an air raid and we scampered off like rabbits to our hole.
We had several raids during the day. The worst one was just a few moments ago consisted of 30 planes dive-bombing and then machine gun us after.
Several raids mostly about the wharf, one ship sunk. A mans body was washed up.
Had a few air raids overnight and in the early hours of the morning. Some chaps killed.
Two raids during the day. One at about 1800 hours two bombs dropped about 50 yards from us. Tick Rich turned 21 today and gave him a party.
He never talked about the war - ever. But these days he would have been diagnosed as severe PTSD - back in the 1950s and 1960s he would be under the bed crying if a thunderstorm during the night.
Passed in 1986 at the youthful age of 66. We only found this old diary after he died.
The blokes in more recent conflicts had it bad but with recognition of the 'trauma' of war but with little support. The diggers from WWI and WWII had it bad and with little appreciation of the 'trauma of war' but there was support when they got home.
As Buffy Saint-Marie says -
And that's how it's done About every 30 years The rich fill their coffers The poor fill with tears The young fill the coffins The old hang a wreath The politicians get photographed with their names underneath
Doubt it will ever change.
Cheers - John
-- Edited by rockylizard on Sunday 6th of January 2019 11:34:33 AM
__________________
2006 Discovery 3 TDV6 SE Auto - 2008 23ft Golden Eagle Hunter Some people feel the rain - the others just get wet - Bob Dylan