1/2006 - OTU Scheyville

The
Scheyvillian
O.T.U. Association National Journal No. 1, 2006
Officer Training Unit, Scheyville NSW 1965-1973
SEA CHANGE
“Kinross”
Terry Walsh 3/69
IN THIS BUMPER ISSUE: Sea Change articles about Terry Walsh, Geoff Butts, Nic Israel,
Jay McDaniel, the 2/69ers in France and La Dolce Vita in the King Valley.
Also: a First Class Reunion, some scintillating 40th Anniversary speeches and a cavalcade of
celebratory dinner reports and photos. Neil Leckie’s Avalon Air Show, the Burrcutters Union,
Lang Kidby and the Bhutan Bugles plus Book and DVD reviews and details of the new website:
www.otu.asn.com.au
SEA CHANGE
Page 2
“Buttsy” (1/72), on right, and Denis Gately (2/72)
sharing a “bundy” on the Black Pearl.
The Black Pearl at the Atherstone Locks,
Coventry Canal.
Denis Island, The Seychelles –
Nick Israel’s (2/70) little piece of paradise.
Nick’s cramped General Manager’s office on
Denis Island.
The “two-sixty-niners” do dinner in France.
And then they do lunch!
And then the sixty-niners stormed the beaches.
A BBQ on a barge in burgundy.
The
CONTENTS
Scheyvillian
Page
Around the Traps – from the Chairman and Editor Laurie Muller (1/65)
4
Sea Change – Terry Walsh (3/69) and others
6
A First Class Reunion – Laurie Muller (1/65)
12
40th Anniversary – First Class Speeches
14
State Chapter News and Photographs
20
Asbestos Kills 2RTB – Neil Leckie (3/68)
33
Avalon Air Show – Neil Leckie (3/68)
34
The Burrcutters Union – Doug Oliver (4/71)
35
The Bhutan Bugles – Lang Kidby (1/67)
37
Profile in Courage – Alistair Pope (4/66) and Dave Sabben (1/65)
44
Book and DVD Reviews
48
New Website – www.otu.asn.au
57
OTU – National and State Chapter Contacts
58
Deadlines for 2006:
Issue 2 of 2006 due out June/July. Receipt of material no later than 1 May 2006.
Issue 3 of 2006 due out Sep/Oct. Receipt of material no later than 1 August 2006.
Issue 4 of 2006 due out December. Receipt of material no later than 1 October 2006.
Submission of Material:
Please provide text and photos in separate files. Text only in a Word document and
photos as JPEGS (medium or high resolution if possible, minimum 1 megapixel), or as
prints for scanning. Captions either as an addition to the Word document, or on back of
prints in soft pencil.
Please send direct to Laurie Muller via email [email protected] , or post a disc,
or print material, to OTU Association c/o Cleary Hoare 145 Eagle Street Brisbane Qld
4001. Laurie Muller’s phone numbers 0733741841 or 0418788493
Editorial Committee:
Laurie Muller (1/65) Chairman and Editor, Gary McKay (2/68) and Owen Williamson (4/70) with
assistance from Alan Storen (1/67) and Tony Sonneveld (1/70).
The Scheyvillian is published on behalf of the OTU Association by Austed Publishing PO Box 8025
Subiaco East, WA 6008. Phone 08 9203 6044, fax 08 9203 6055, email [email protected]
Page 3
Around the Traps
Laurie Muller AM 1/65
Editor and National Chairman
Sea Change is an appropriate theme for this bumper issue of
the Scheyvillian. Approaching, or turning sixty seems to have
re-invigorated the adventurous spirit of Scheyvillians to keep
on giving it a go. Typical of the “baby boomer” generation it
seems that OTU graduates and their wives are entering that
phase of their lives where they are free to enjoy whatever
takes their fancy. Certainly the stories that are starting to
come in demonstrate that the spirit of adventure, derring-do
and being different is very much alive amongst us all.
Terry Walsh’s (3/69) Sea Change feature story of he and his
wife Gail tackling Kinross, the beautiful B&B at Beechworth
in Victoria, was the trigger for a series of pieces about other
Scheyvillians having a go at new challenges.
There is “Buttsy” (1/72) living on his barge the Black Pearl
travelling the canals of the UK and there is Jay McDaniel
(3/69) and his wife Maureen, entertaining visiting
Scheyvillians on their barge in Burgundy. Not to be outdone
Nick Israel (2/70) headed off and found paradise on Denis
Island in The Seychelles. The class of 2/69, having collectively developed a taste for the good life and guided by
Andrew Sutherland and Bill Watson, roamed widely in
France. Not to be outdone Graeme Chester (2/67) reports of
the ongoing adventures of a happy group of Victorians
enjoying La Dolce Vita in the King Valley, North East of
Melbourne.
cancer and Scheyvillians lost a great friend and supporter. Her
funeral in Sydney was attended by a group of deeply
saddened Scheyvillians, led by Greg Todd (2/71) and Tony
Sonneveld (1/70), who paid respect to the Geddes family on
behalf of us all.
Book writing and for that matter book reviewing, has also
become widespread amongst Scheyvillians, as the latter pages
of this issue will attest. David Sabben (1/65), Lang Kidby
(1/67) and Gary McKay (2/68) all have new books out and
John Neervort (2/67), Neil Leckie (3/68) and Alister Pope
(4/66) have tackled the reviewing with gusto.
The new OTU website is now a reality after many months in
gestation (see page 57). It is a simple, modern, multi-function
website that should serve Scheyvillians well and be a key
means of communication and a source of contact details for
all who shared the Scheyville Experience.
Finally, we are keen to broaden the appeal of the Scheyvillian
by running stories similar to Terry Walsh’s Sea Change, so
don’t hold back if you have a good story to tell, get it down,
add some photos and send it in, it’s bound to get a run.
Nil Bastardium Carborundum
Add to all this the indefatigable Lang Kidby (1/67) not only
leading an amazing Paris to Peking car rally but then
following it up with a United Nations adventure he calls work
in Bhutan and you start to wonder whether the Scheyvillians
are really gently ageing at all, or are hell bent on riding the
roller coaster of life right to the very end.
Last year was the Fortieth Anniversary of the founding of
OTU Scheyville and it was extensively celebrated around the
country with reunions, dinners, speeches, BBQs and a variety
of other events. The old Officer Cadets’ Mess at Scheyville
was generously readied by National Parks for an anniversary
dinner of inaugural 1/65 and 2/65 classes. In a marathon night
time dinner exercise, and in testimony to the training and
fitness of these men, not one casualty occurred. Quite
amazing really considering a bunch of sixty years olds still
thinking and acting like they were twenty!
On a more sombre note Jan Geddes, the wife of the first
Commandant Brigadier Ian Geddes (1/65), lost her battle with
Page 4
Remember this? The old Officer Cadets’ Mess, now made
most usable by the hard work of the Scheyville National Parks
ground staff. See “A First Class Reunion” story page 12
Dates for your Diary for 2006
(check updates on www.otu.asn.au)
NEW SOUTH WALES
Quarterly Lunches.
18 May at Drummoyne Rowers Club
17 August at Concord Golf Club
16 November at Drummoyne Rowers Club
Annual Dinner
1 July at Victoria Barracks (date to be confirmed)
Contact Greg Todd ([email protected]) via email
preferably, or on 02 98762958 or 0404074765
QUEENSLAND
Monthly lunches every second Thursday at Fridays at
12.30pm.
Contact Mick Hart or Steph on 07 32461017
Annual Black Tie 41st Anniversary Dinner
Saturday April 1st the United Services Club
Wickham Terrace – 7.00pm for 7.30pm
Contact Gary McKay on 07 54462292
VICTORIA (To be advised)
WESTERN AUSTRALIA
Quarterly lunches at Romany in William St Perth 1pm on 5
May, 4 August and 3 November
Contact Frank Lefaucheur on 08 92462666 or preferably
email: [email protected]
ACT
Have already had their Annual Dinner on 24 March.
Contact Jon Peters 02 62654127 or 0417692545
VALE
Alec James Ball 3/66
Passed away 3 October 2005
“AJ” as he was known to many was respected for his
determination and tenacity. His career included
agricultural science, the family’s butcher shop in
Leitchville Victoria and retail distribution. He
overcame a major stutter to enable him to succeed
at OTU. Alec visited PNG on a school excursion
and was excited to be posted to PNG after
graduation from OTU. In 1984 he and his family
went back to live in PNG for about ten years. During
this time Alec suffered major head injuries in an
attack by the local rascals in Rabaul. It is suspected
that this ultimately led to his first major stroke about
a year ago. He is survived by his wife Marion and
children Leisha and Trent.
Peter Whitelaw (3/66)
Vale
Jan Geddes
April 2005
Whenever we think of Jan Geddes, two images in
particular come to mind:
• In the picture on the cover of the Scheyvillian
taken at the OTU reunion in October 2003.
• During the NSW Chapter dinners at Victoria
Barracks, outside with a number of others, plotting
mischief.
In the first image she is in her more accepted and
understood role of supporting partner to Ian as he
unfolded his illustrious military career and, in
retirement providing whatever support he needed.
In the second image, she is very much her own
person, communicating and sharing with whomever
she met in a manner that drew them in, that enticed
them and relaxed them and made them feel totally
comfortable. Here she could be relied upon to place
a fresh spin on any old yarn. Boy was she sharp!
Jan was a wonderful enthusiast for the OTU
Association and what we stand for. It wasn’t just
because Ian was founding Commandant – it was
because she saw each of us as “her boys”. She often
said how she admired us for what we had endured
and become as young men – because she saw the
transition as it occurred! Is it any wonder that in her
times with us over recent years we simply had fun?
Jan has left us with many good memories and a
bunch of fine ideals she shared with everyone she
met, as an equal. She was an unspoken role model
for the wives of OTU men and understood the trails
and tribulations they faced when they married an
OTU man. Jan often demonstrated how she kept her
beloved Commandant in check during speeches at
OTU events, interjecting jokingly to make a point
more clear, or to simply correct a little slip of the
tongue – but she never wasted an opportunity to
demonstrate her total support for her husband and
for us all!
There was a full house at her memorial service on 6
May 2005. A number of graduates were able to be
there at short notice. Thank you Tony Sonneveld,
John Carroll and others, The service was beautiful
and truly celebrated her life.
Vija and Greg Todd (2/71)
Page 5
“SEA CHANGE” TO THE
HILLS OF VICTORIA’S
NORTH EAST
You are in long term, secure
employment for which you are qualified
and suited, and which is satisfying in all
respects. So when is it time to call it
quits?
After fifteen years as General Manager
of Melbourne Legacy it dawned on me
(Ordnance Corps – slow learner) that
my life had become overrun by
seemingly endless meetings, surveys,
reviews and reports. Battling traffic an
hour each way from home in the ‘burbs
also did little to help maintain an
enthusiasm to suffer the same all the
way through to ‘retirement’. But, I
hasten to add, it was a most fulfilling
and challenging role which I had been
privileged to assume.
So, what was the alternative? For my
wife Gail (similarly disposed after 23
years as Administration Manager in her
family business – a non-ferrous foundry
in Dandenong South) and I, it was to be
a total lifestyle change – that of a
traditional B&B owner/operator.
Having stayed at a number of B&Bs
over the past few years, the thought of
running our own had a lot of appeal.
Long before we eventually extricated
ourselves from our jobs, we had been
undertaking detailed research of the
B&B industry. We completed a
specialised
course
in
Rural
Accommodation conducted by the
Glenormiston Campus of Melbourne
University; took food handling courses;
applied for a liquor licence; set up a
company; joined accommodation and
tourism associations; and started to
develop criteria for a B&B that would
meet our needs. It had to be an existing
Page 6
business, historic home, minimum of
four guestrooms (all with own en-suite),
in a popular ‘tourist’ town within 3
hours’ drive from Melbourne, and a
short walking distance to restaurants
and shops.
For the past three years now we have
been operating Kinross Guest House – a
traditional, hosted B&B (as distinct
from self-contained, you know –
“Here’s your provisions, cook them
yourselves”) – in Beechworth, North
East country Victoria.
We sold our home at Wantirna South,
Melbourne, resigned from our jobs,
informed the ‘kids’ (Simon and Lauren
then aged 27 and 25 respectively) that
they would need to find other digs, and
we moved into our newly acquired
home/business 270 km up country.
The change of pace has been very
refreshing. Stress levels are down, and
bed-making, vacuuming, sweeping,
raking, gardening and wood chopping
are the healthy and natural alternatives
to gym membership. We pride
ourselves on the fact that we employ
no-one, running the business by
ourselves. It is what is commonly
referred to today as 7/24, but we do
schedule short respite breaks every
couple of months, especially in
February and July/August – the ‘less
busy’ periods of the year. And we have
determined that our tenure will be for
around five years only – the realistic
life expectancy for hosted B&B
operators. After all, we want to put our
feet up too.
Highway between Melbourne and
Canberra-Sydney, we pick up a lot of
travellers to and from, and folk wanting
to meet ‘halfway’. And for some
inexplicable reason Defence personnel,
present and past, seem to be attracted to
our facility. We spend much time of an
evening over a bottle of wine (local of
course – there being twenty four
wineries in Beechworth) talking of
matters military. We used to travel
overseas to experience other cultures.
Now, with the number of international
guests we host (around 15%) – the
world comes to us.
A little time is spent on other pursuits. I
have retained my links with Legacy,
reverting to ‘grass roots’ voluntary
status as a Legatee. Local Chamber of
Commerce membership seemed
appropriate, but how come I now find
myself in a second term as Secretary?
Also President of Beechworth RSL, and
on Shire planning committees? And
I’ve been conned (by a fellow Nasho,
and owner of Beechworth Bus Lines)
into casual school bus driving and
winery tours. Gail still practises her
accounting skills as Treasurer of the
Beechworth Harvest Festival.
With the recent purchase of a cottage in
town, it is safe to assume that we plan
to settle in Beechworth in the long term.
Through our lives we are all drawn in
different directions according to
circumstance, but in the words of a one
time famous resident of Beechworth
(not that he actually saw much of the
town) – Such is Life!
Terry Walsh (3/69)
Situated just 20 minutes off the Hume
Sojourn in
France
by Mick Hart (2/69)
The get together in Hong Kong in November
2003 of several class members and spouses to
visit John Hunter (class member resident in
Hong Kong for some years) was a few years in
the making and anticipated to be a "one off"
event. However, such was the camaraderie
amongst the group (equally amongst the wives
as with the men) that wild suggestions were
made and agreed upon for a get together in
France in mid 2005.
Andrew
Sutherland,
having
"French
Connections" and being a Man of Letters and,
using both facilities, organized a get together in
a little village called Cabrieres, near Marseilles,
in the south of France. It’s a very small village
and the mini resort/motel in which we stayed
was an amalgamation, over some years, of a
number of houses within the village, linking them
all together. The informal get together lasted a
week and had various facets, including a formal
dinner at which both national anthems were
sung and a presentation of a Scheyville plaque
was made to the resort owner (the resort has
been in the same family for over 100 years).
Various vineyards were visited and there were
sporadic forays into nearby villages, mountains,
etc.
For many, the highlight was a group canoe trip
down the Gard River, led by Bill Watson.
There were many highlights and many "great
speeches". In strong company, the best,
perhaps, was by Paul Flanagan. Seeking
immortality for the Scheyvillian concepts, he
suggested the creation of a Scheyvillian sperm
bank (most of the ladies thought the attempts
should have been made many years earlier),
perhaps to be housed with the other
memorabilia at Duntroon. At one of the wineries
visited, Flanagan was subsequently captured on
film, his back to the rest of us and fronting an
enormous wine vat, near the inlet valve –
probably just testing ease of access (being,
ever, the engineer).
Terry Keogh, an experienced traveller.
Page 7
Those attending the France nosh up
were:
Andrew & Kathie Sutherland
Paul & Judy Flanagan
Graham & Kay Charge
Kevin & Kath Richardson
Peter Don
Bill & Jenny Watson
Terry & Jocelyn Keogh
Ross & Jane Robbins
Peter & Cheryl Wotton
Mick & Tricia Hart
It was a magnificent feat of organization and leadership by Andrew
Sutherland and, if he had been
given this opportunity in 1969, he
may well have challenged more
strongly for the Sword of Honour.
Cheers everyone!
The touring party with a captured
French tour guide.
Dinner in good company in Cabrieres.
The villas in Cabrieres.
The plaque.
Paul Flanagan checking ease of access.
Page 8
Canoeing on the Gard with Bill Watson.
Buttsy and The Black Pearl
Geoff Butts (1/72) sold up his family legal practice, sold his home in Brisbane and free of any former marital responsibilities took off for the UK in 2005, to find a barge to live on and roam the canals of England.
The stylish, sleek Black Pearl is now home to young Buttsy and as the photos show life is good, whether cruising the
canals in Coventry, hosting visiting classmates from Australia or simply living the simple life.
Geoff is considering opening a “canals paragraph” of the OTU Association so that any lost OTU souls in the UK will
know where to get a good bundy and coke. His email address is [email protected]
Pics clockwise from above: Pic 1: Denis Gately (BSM 2/72) sharing a bundy and coke (or several) with Buttsy on the
Black Pearl. Note the insignia on the caps. Pic 2: The sleek and lovely Black Pearl, gliding through the tranquil
waters of the canals in Atherstone, Coventry. The total of 11 locks each of 50 metres, lifting 100ft over a ridgeline,
took Buttsy 3 hours to complete. That’s what bundy and coke will do for you! Pic 3: Mick Hart (2/69) celebrates a
shared birthday (11 May 1946) with young Buttsy, as the Black Pearl drifted into London. The swell in the Thames
has caused the lean to starboard!
Page 9
Finding Paradise
Nick Israel 2/70
Dear Family and Colleagues,
I landed in paradise just a few days ago.
I didn't realize one could find paradise
on our earth until I found the closest
thing to heaven, well I think I did, here
on Taj Denis Island. You can get all the
info you need on the website
www.denisisland.com or the Taj Hotels,
Resorts and Palaces website
www.tajhotels.com
All I can say, it is a unique island resort
set on a coral base of some 350 acres
that features a dense rain forest,
teaming with bird life, encircled by
coral reefs and the most incredible
vibrant hues of blue water splashing on
the white sandy beaches. Seeing is
believing. This is truly an idyllic island
environment where the atmosphere is
pure relaxation where the food is great,
the service is smooth and island like
with an ambiance that is truly Robinson
Crusoe and where you can disappear to
your own little hideaway somewhere on
the island. The fishing around the island
is compared to some of the best in the
world with tuna and sailfish in
abundance. You catch and we cook it
for you. The scuba diving is the best
also and in isolation, as you'll find no
one else connecting at the dive sites off
the island so you'll be alone with just
the coral, the luke warm sea, the fish
and expert advice.
Part of the magic is flying into the
island by an AirSeychelles twin otter
aircraft that takes 30 minutes from the
main island of Mahe cruising at an
altitude of 5000 ft and from where you
can observe most of the small islands of
the Seychelles on the way to Denis
Island, and on arrival you fly over the
island at around 1000ft before you land
on a grass airstrip. This is a unique
experience as the plane carries 20
passengers when full but you feel like
you’re next to the pilot and as you land
you’re able to view the descent to the
island. Wow! and exhilaration is what
you feel when you land.
The island life is very laid back, and if
you're stressed, tired, overworked,
hassled, and all those things that bugs
you in the real world, 5-7days will
bring your body system back to a
healthy level. Five to seven days is
sufficient to enjoy the medicinal
rewards of slowing right down and
probably cost efficient as you'll need 23 weeks at a standard resort to achieve
the same result. Mobiles don't work
here, so no one can reach you but
emails can ... At least that's a help for
those that need to be in touch!
Paradise is calling me now as I have got
to go and interact with my guests by the
sea and participate and indulge in a
Seafood Creole barbecue night.
Barging in Burgundy
Frank LeFaucheur (1/71) claims this was an OTU based function held recently in
Burgundy, France. The barge is owned by Jay (3/69) and Maureen McDaniel and
they are most generous hosts indeed, as Wayne Banks (1/70) and Frank found to
their pleasure.
Much fine wine, French style cooking and leisurely cruising through the picturesque
French countryside beats the hell out of the old six day exercise according to Frank.
Top: Sharing friendship on the back of the barge –
Maureen and Jay McDaniel and Chris and Frank LeFaucheur.
Note the aussie flag on the stern!
Bottom: A BBQ on the Barge – Clockwise from the left ; Wayne Banks
Jay McDaniel, Pip Banks, Maureen McDaniel, Frank Le Faucheur.
Page 10
Lobsters, king prawns, mussels, tuna,
sailfish, ah ah ah ... just makes you
hungry doesn't it.
New contact details :
[email protected] but my
personal email is still good. Telephone
is the main line into the resort being
+ 248 321143/42.
Hope to see you real soon in paradise.
Best regards, Nick.
LA DOLCE VITA
in the King Valley
By Graeme Chester 2/67
Over the weekend 18–20 November a number of the
Victorian Chapter members and their partners visited the
King River Valley area of Victoria. It was the Victorian
Chapter’s annual weekend away and coincided with the La
Dolce Vita weekend conducted by the wineries of the King
River Valley to celebrate their Italian heritage. Indulging in
wine, food, music and entertainment, and a bit of Ned
Kelly nostalgia, was the aim of the exercise.
True to our military background, and in deference to our
fading memories, an Operations Order was issued to
ensure we all knew what we were doing.
Accommodation for the weekend was at the King River
Camp, a Church of Christ camp for school children. It was
rustic, reminded the fellows of their Scheyville days and
the managers thankfully gave us dispensation of the ‘No
Alcohol’ rule. After a welcoming dinner on the Friday
night, acquaintances were remade and all was in order for
the next day’s activities.
Before we hit the wineries, our first port of call was to Typo
Station. This is an organisation in an isolated area of the
valley that works with boys ‘at risk’ with a view to getting
them back on track and giving them work and life skills.
The Victorian OTU Chapter supports Typo Station as part
of its contribution to youth leadership development. Anna,
a social worker there, gave us a full briefing on what they
aim to achieve and we left feeling that our contribution to
Typo Station was well worth it and sat well with the OTU
Association’s youth development aims.
For the remainder of the Saturday we set about sampling
the wines of the King River Valley. We weakened fairly
quickly with only three wineries of the available 17 visited.
However, when you taste all of the wines, sample the
interesting food, listen to the variety of music provided and
participate in some of the local customs, the time seems to
rush by. We soon discovered that some of our group had
latent Italian backgrounds that induced them to try the
gnocchi rolling and wine spitting competitions. A not so
quiet dinner at the local pub, with many of the other La
Dolce Vita attendees, topped off a great day.
On the Sunday the aim was to get a bit of culture into the
group with some Kelly history and some gourmet food.
After a short cross country trek we found the remnants of
the Kelly home at Eleven Mile Creek, Greta West and then
visited a museum and the station at Glenrowan to learn
more of Ned and his exploits. We were there just after the
125th anniversary of his execution so it was all the more
poignant. Glenrowan has plenty to offer and is well worth
a detour off the Hume Highway to visit.
After Glenrowan we headed to Milawa to try the gourmet
food of the region. The cheese factory and shops
specialising is mustards and olives were particularly
enticing. After sampling everything on offer, and buying
most of it, we ended our weekend away with a lovely
luncheon at the King River Café at Oxley – a restaurant
specialising in local produce. As we said our farewells we
all agreed that it had been a fun weekend and that we must
do something again next year.
A Typo Station being briefed by Anna
(second from right).
Wine and coffee at Station Creek
Winery.
Wine Spitting: Brian Scantelbury
preparing to launch.
Jim Madden: A splashdown
in the third bucket.
At the ruins of the Kelly Homestead.
Winding down at the King River Cafe.
L to R: Brian & Cathy, Les & Dianne,
Jim & Ruth, Ian & Trish, Winston & Sue,
Heather & Graeme.
Page 11
A First Class Reunion
Forty years ago in July 1965, a bemused bunch of 20
year olds debussed onto the parade ground at the brand
new Officer Training Unit at Scheyville and found that
their lives were about to be changed dramatically.
Some forty years on, on 16 July 2005, many of that first
class, together with their “sons” returned to Scheyville
for the first time and sat down to dinner in their old
Officer Cadet’s Mess. Many hadn’t see each other since
graduation, some had remained in contact and became
good friends, but to a man conversations resumed as
though it was all just yesterday.
A determined contingent made their way from Perth, led
by Harry Neesham and JP O’Halloran himself and
chaperoned by Rodney Hatcher and Bernie Houston.
This contingent was under the illusion that the Virgin
flight was self catering in the drinks department, until a
flight steward advised them otherwise. A prolonged
discussion ensued in an attempt to clarify the Virgin
policy, by which time the contingent had managed to
exhaust their own supplies and were ready to avail
themselves of Virgin’s stockholding. It’s comforting to
know that OTU habits have not changed at all after forty
years!
Graduate 0001 ROE Melford James kicked off the
dinner with a witty and clever speech about his SAS
days when his squadron returned to Scheyville on antiterror exercises and blew up quite a bit of the
infrastructure of the place. This probably accounts for
why the old Officer Cadets’ Mess was in such poor
shape, until the National Parks people put in a
Herculean effort to ready it for our dinner.
The speeches continued in graduation order throughout
the evening with increasing interludes for bladder relief
as the orations relentlessly gained marathon
momentum. 0010 SYLVESTER John Douglas had flown
in from New Zealand and somewhere during the past
forty years had developed a striking resemblance to Burl
Ives. 0025 BEASLEY David Leslie was sure he sang his
speech to the Streets of Laredo but then again the old
“bees-knees” had cleaned up a fair bit of the Blue
Tongue lager before he seriously tackled some of the
Penfolds reds.
As an interesting aside – when trying to arrange the
catering, which is no mean feat in the neck of the
woods, contact was made with a Windsor butcher who
also ran a spit roast business. When it was explained to
him what it was about he exclaimed “Are you little
bastards still out there and is that little fat sergeant still
shouting at you all?” It turns out that he was local of
about our age, who lived on a farm on the eastern side
Page 12
by 0021 MULLER
Laurence Conway
of the camp and saw a hell of a lot of our comings and
goings back in the sixties.
The evening had a fair concentration of infantry types,
which is where most of the first class blokes went and it
wasn’t that long into the speeches that the old RAR
rivalry emerged. I think it was 0028 O’HALLORAN John
Patrick of B Coy 6RAR who started it, during his
extensive and passionate speech remembering those
blokes who didn’t come back, but the counter attack
from 0015 DEANE-BUTCHER John Hugh and 0006
NEESHAM Harry Thomas both of 5RAR carried the day.
It seems as though one or other of those battalions won
the war about 1966, but forgot to report it. At 2RAR we
certainly didn’t hear about it!
One of my concerns in organising and providing
beverages for such an evening was pondering whether
sixty year olds would switch over to lite beer, or even
water, late in the evening and leave us over provisioned
with good quality alcohol. My concerns were unfounded
as it quickly became apparent that these sixty years olds
had the same staying power and capacity as when they
were last here as twenty year olds. Even Owen O’Brien,
who attended the dinner and was Captain and Adjutant
in 1965, was impressed. Owen was in charge of mess
dining niceties when we were officer cadets and
introduced us to foreign substances such as wine and
cigars, liqueurs and cutlery, napkins and toasting the
Queen and how to keep your elbows in when you ate.
We nicknamed him Captain Couth at the time and this
gnarled old warrior grew moist around the eyes as he
saw just how far his boys had progressed in their social
graces that evening. That was until 0010 SYLVESTER
J. S. fell under the table when trying to pour another
bumper of Galway Pipe.
Scheyville is still very frosty in July and some parts of
the old Cadets mess are still a little breezy, particularly
in the early hours. The hired in mushroom style gas
heaters attracted ageing Scheyvillians like moths and
the dinner developed a somewhat lopsided format as
the night wore on. The Victorian contingent of 0040
DELVES Michael John, 0055 IRVINE Mervyn Robert
and 0041 SELLARS Warwick George did not seem to
notice the sub zero temperatures and I did notice the
Canberrians 0066 LONERGAN Paul Frederick and 0005
AUSTIN John Linton take their coats off as the mercury
bottomed at ten degrees below. 0069 LONGUE Brian
Geoffrey of Singleton seemed unaffected and was able
to remind us he was in OTU in 1973 when it all finished
and has an orderly office flag which he nicked off the
pole to prove it.
It was the second class contingent that brought the
speech making part of the evening to a rousing
conclusion as we headed towards Reveille. 0081
HURFORD Gordon Warrington rallied our sons and
the evening concluded with a poignant speech from
0113 PATTON Warwick David about how wonderful
we were as fathers. It was 0110 NICHOLSON John
Andrew from Carcoar, who left us with this little homily
from RSM Larry “The Bat” Moon just prior to their
graduation.
“You leave here to continue your National Service
obligation as a member of one of three groups. The first
are those soldiers who others will follow anywhere
because they respect and trust you implicitly … I regret
there are not many in this group. The second are those
whose orders will be obeyed simply because you wear
rank … I am relieved that this is small number. It is to
my eternal shame that the majority of you are in the
third group whose soldiers will follow you anywhere for
no other reason than …. out of sheer curiosity to see
what you are going to do next!!!!”
It was appropriate that about this time the bus arrived to
take the bulk of the contingent back to barracks, the AVina Van Village at Vineyard just down the road.
Everyone got on board even if they weren’t staying there
and 0056 HATCHER Rodney led a detail back into the
mess to retrieve a large esky full of coldies whilst some
excellent reds were selected by Captain Couth for the
trip. By the time the bus got to the Village some
oustanding renditions of the Scheyville Song had been
belted out and the battalion of officer cadets adjourned
to the room of 0025 BEASLEY David Leslie for predawn stiffeners. It’s fair to say that the Bees-Knees
room didn’t pass inspection later that morning but then
he was well on his way back to the warmth of
Bundanoon.
The Cadets’ Mess set up and looking quite stylish for the
Reunion Dinner.
Some of the assembled multitude
last seen in the mess in December 1965.
It was agreed we should try another reunion fairly soon,
whilst everyone was still alive and able to remember
dates and things.
Part of the WA contingent: Harry Neesham,
Rodney Hatcher and Bernie Houston, all of 1/65.
Those brave blokes who surfaced the next day and are
struggling with the bright sunshine and the noisy birds!
Back row: Warrick Patton, Rodney Hatcher, Harry Neesham,
Mick Delves, Gordon Hurford, John O’Halloran.
Front row: Brian Longue, Bob Irvine, Bernie Houston, Laurie
Muller, Warwick Sellars, Lance Parker.
Page 13
OTU ASSOCIATION 40th
ANNIVERSARY DINNER
OFFICERS’ MESS
VICTORIA BARRACKS, MELBOURNE
Friday 27th May 2005
Anniversary Speech by Pamela Lombardo
Thank you for the opportunity to speak on this Fortieth
Anniversary of OTU – its beginnings as an Army Officer
Training Unit, its inaugural intake of recruits and its First
Class – Class One – 1965.
Two graduates from that First Class are here tonight – David
Sabben and Adrian Lombardo, my husband. They were the
trail-blazers for the rest of you to follow in successive years –
through to 1973 – when the last Class marched onto the
hallowed parade ground and graduated from the distinctive
Officer Training Unit, Scheyville.
My few words will focus on the feminine perspective of an
extraordinary period of time that saw random birth dates
picked out of a ballot box. If your birthday came out of the
box – bingo – you were in and, like it or not, the next two
years of your life were suddenly spoken for. This was so for
all of you here tonight.
For many, the “call up” was a serious inconvenience and a
major impediment to an otherwise flourishing civilian career.
When Adrian showed me his love letter from the Department
of Labour and National Service, it was not a welcome read.
The excited anticipation of his impending appointment with
Alitalia Airlines suddenly evaporated – and the suitcase
slammed shut on a life of jetsetting around the world. We
stared at each other, speechless. There was nothing even
vaguely exotic about the next two years that I could see! For a
few moments, I did a pretty good impression of a screeching
banshee, thrashing around in a diatribe about the bloody
Government and the unfairness of the ballot, and how come
29th March had jumped out of the box, and not the 28th or
30th, for Heaven’s sake!!! Adrian’s quiet observance of this
performance unsettled him more than the letter itself and, at
that point, he would have been entirely forgiven for ditching
me as an unsuitable life partner. Instead, he was galvanised
into action – ALREADY – and declared “Right, that’s enough
– WE are going to get on with this and make something of it”.
He had just given his first order to a subordinate!
I farewelled Adrian as a civilian almost exactly 40 years ago.
He reported for duty on 30th June 1965 and was transported
to 2 RTB, Puckapunyal, with 500 or so other raw recruits.
They had every reason to feel angry and resentful yet, in those
early days of conscription, these men saw it as a challenge,
Page 14
and simply got on with it rather than use all measures to try
and get out of it.
In the first two weeks at Pucka, with no phones in “the lines”,
and certainly no mobiles, I learned by letter that the recruits
had already been taught much about the military – about rank
and authority, respect, the salute, the marching and stampting
about in endless drill, the introduction of weapon training, the
very particular discipline, the uniform, the spit polish, and the
correct way to wear the slouch hat.
I also learned that Adrian was one of few selected for Officer
Training, and that he was taking his first flight ever from
Mangalore to Richmond Air Base in a DC4 aircraft to the yet
unknown Officer Training Unit at Scheyville in central New
South Wales. Oh, and no leave pass by the way – he was off
the very next day and I would not see him for another three
months – at the half way mark, if he survived it. But he would
try and write the odd line or two along the way – and he
would like to have lots of nice long letters from me – bundles
of them, in fact. “This sounds good”, I thought, “He wants
bundles and I might get a few lines”.
He knew already that time was to become a precious luxury.
Nevertheless, getting into the early groove of a soon-to-be
military wife, I composed volumes of exquisite romantic
verbiage turning ordinary life into dreamy images and giving
it a bit of a metaphysical make-over. I soon learned that’s not
quite what he had in mind.
Adrian’s first letter to me from the confines of OTU was not
exactly typical of the romantic young man pining for his
absent love. Instead, it concentrated on a hand-drawn plan of
his room in “the lines” and a detailed map of the area around
his Section Block! Girls LOVE these things!
He also described the shock he and the other chosen few felt
as they were disgorged onto the holy parade ground of OTU
to be immediately hit by the booming voice of RSM Moon
bellowing orders from what seemed like miles away –
piercing the otherwise tranquil, semi-bushland setting of this
remote new place.
The Recruits had just become Officer Cadets.
Subsequent letters described many new and unique
experiences – 16 hour days of tortuous military training
marked with “firsts” at every point. Firing a pistol and being
barely able to control it, weapon training on the rifle range,
jumping off the back of fast-moving military vehicles, the
daunting obstacle course which defies description – and, the
one I loved best, the excitement of “leaps” (that magical
changing of dress code in minutes, like Superman, with a 30
second shower in between). This is the one Adrian has been
trying to instil in me, without success, for nearly 40 years. I
would never have made it over the line at Scheyville!
But, as every gorgeous girl in this celebratory gathering
knows very well, your young men then were not only being
prepared for the very real battle of Vietnam – they were also
being groomed in a wonderful new set of Aussie Rules called
“Mess Etiquette”. And, as you will observe at every Officers’
Mess function, that code of impeccable manners is inherent –
and your men not only became Officers at that young age, but
Gentlemen as well.
At the 12-week mark of the course, when family and select
visitors were “allowed in” to OTU, I got my first glimpse of
my fiancé as an Officer Cadet. We had been apart for four
months and it was the first time I had seen him in uniform. I
had an image in my mind of what he would look like –
bronzed, athletic, handsome, of course – but no real difference
to the last time I saw him. I looked around but found it hard to
pick him out in the blur of 100 Officer Cadets in khaki battle
dress. Then I saw this vision marching towards me – with the
most atrocious haircut you’ve ever seen. This obviously
registered with him immediately – “It’s great actually”, he
said, “I’ve thrown away my comb”! This was the SIXTIES –
no young man went anywhere without a COMB!!!
I sat with him in the Nissen Hut that doubled as the Officer
Cadets’ Mess – transfixed by the loss of his thick, dark locks,
and stirring the sugar-laden tea he had offered as a calmative.
I listened as he told me amazing stories of the previous 12
weeks and detailed the extraordinary pace of learning and the
supreme effort it took to keep up with it all. I was struck by
his enthusiasm for this new aspect of his life, his respect for
authority, the strong camaraderie already formed with his
fellow cadets and, in essence, a sense of belonging.
He looked lean – and very fit.
It was already clear that National Service was moulding and
shaping this young man, forcing him to draw on resources that
may otherwise never have been tapped.
The second half of this extraordinary six-month period saw a
steady increase in pressure on the Cadets and, inevitably, a
“weeding out” of those who were unable to sustain it.
Scheyville was designed to “break and re-mould” the Cadets,
test them beyond the limit, place them under horrendous time
constraints and hand out frequent charges with the standard
punishment of extra duty parades for the most minor
infraction such as a speck of dust on one’s bayonet. Cadets
who failed to reach the required standard were ruthlessly
removed from the course (often mid-exercise by chopper)
without the dignity of polite farewell. Adrian’s letters during
this time were punctuated with expressions of despair and
uncertainty when the going seemed relentless and defeating –
but juxtaposed against this was a flourishing confidence, selfdiscipline and a determination and commitment to “get over
the line”. His letters were scribbled on graph paper and
covered in dirt, but frequently contained something extra
pressed into the last few words – a delicate wildflower spotted
and picked while crawling along the ground on exercise.
This was “sending flowers” the military way.
The rigours of OTU need no pointers for any of you here
tonight. You are all well aware that you were being
physically, mentally and psychologically stretched to the limit
of your endurance every single day. From the pre-dawn
Reveille to the poignancy of the Last Post – the marching,
perfectionist drill, parades, and more marching, crawling
around on your bellies in the dust and the dirt and the mud,
Platoon exercises, route marches, enemy attack and ambush
sequences – all were daily reminders of this new life –
military life – that you were part of (not at your seeking) but a
life nevertheless that was clearly destined to test, shape and
make leaders of all of you.
At the end of 1965, on 18th December, the Battalion of
Officer Cadets marched onto the Parade Ground dressed in
the impressive uniform of Regimental Blues. (This sight
would have inspired a sense of immense relief in the
officiating party as, at the previous day’s dress rehearsal, in
collective defiance of Dress Code, the Cadets had marched on
in their Long Johns!) Of the 100 Recruits who had first
arrived on that same Parade Ground in June, barely more than
half completed the gruelling six months and graduated as
Commissioned Officers.
The Parade and Graduation Ceremony was the ultimate
reward to the young men who had landed on the Parade
Ground six months earlier as awkward, raw Recruits and who
were now marching off the same Parade Ground as Officers
in the Australian Army. The transformation that had taken
place during that time was nothing short of remarkable.
Against a backdrop of anti-war sentiment and hostile protest
marches, they dutifully prepared for impending service to
their country in Phuc Tuoy Province, South Vietnam.
Historically, they would become part of an elite camaraderie
that would recognise each other for ever more. It was a
privilege to be part of it – and each knew that the National
Service ballot that had begun as such an inconvenience and
interruption to their lives, by quirk of fate of a birth date, had
transformed them into such extraordinary young men that
those who were not called up were deemed the poorer for it.
All of you are here tonight had class mates and room mates
next door in “the lines”. Your lives have taken you in
different directions and the occasions that you come together
now are probably all too few, but the profoundly close bond
between you characterises a unique friendship and is evident
merely by observing you together.
Being here tonight taps the reserves of memory and provides
a reference point, recognition and appreciation that OTU
Scheyville was far more than a training unit for potential
young Army Officers. It was, and will always remain, the
defining point from which all who went through it (and those
who waited in the wings) proudly acknowledge its profound
and powerful influence on the rest of their lives.
Page 15
FIRST CLASS ALL THE WAY
Queensland Anniversary Dinner, April 2005
United Services Club, Brisbane
Speech by Laurie Muller (1/65)
Being the fortieth anniversary of first class’ arrival at
Scheyville and the year we all turn sixty, I tried to get a
few fellow first classians along here tonight. A couple of
them couldn’t hear me no matter how loudly I spoke, one
couldn’t remember even being there and the matron of
the old men’s home, caring as she was, simply wouldn’t
let the other five out at night. She said she had enough
trouble with them during the day, digging slit trenches in
the grounds, running happy hours at morning tea and
chatting up some of the octogenarians.
This turn of events has certainly given me a little more
freedom to reminisce tonight, without fear of interruption,
or having to repeat myself loudly for the old codgers in
the front row.
For me the National Service happened out of Melbourne
in July 65 when, after receiving the first ever lot of call up
papers, we were told to report to Watsonia Railway
Station. That was my first experience of the perverse ways
of the Australian Army. Expecting to be put on a train, we
were put on a bus instead and driven away from the
railway station to the Watsonia Barracks, which was
probably only a short walk away. I think the reason we
were put on the bus was to allow us to be more easily
attacked by a small company of older ladies, who looked
very much like our mums, all bearing SOS ( save our
sons) signs and banging them on the bus windows and
screaming hysterically. This was probably the most
frightening time of my military service. Having made it
safely to the sanctuary of the barracks, where the machine
guns emplacements seemed to deter the pursuing mums,
we were debussed (an Army term) and given a haircut (an
Army first principle) and as the day had got way from us a
bit, there was no time left for anything else, so we were
given our tea (as they say in Melbourne) and sent to bed,
so that we could be got up an hour before dawn and
shouted at.
The army is pretty cunning, because at this stage they put
us back on the bus and drove us back to the railway
station before first light, well before the Save our Sons
squadron were up and about. This time there was a train
at the station – it looked like it was last used by the Light
Horse contingent for Gallipoli – and a very hung-over
sergeant, who told us to get on board or he would get
someone to tear our arms off. The train pulled out of the
Page 16
station and headed north. For a lot of us parochial
Victorians the day turned out to be something of a
surprise. To our amazement we sped across the foggy
Victorian countryside and in a few short hours crossed the
edge of the known world at the Murray River and instead
of finding nothing on the other side, there was this
unfamiliar country called New South Wales. “Where are
we going sarge?” we asked – “To Kapooka you little
pricks”, he growled.
Kapooka is an old aboriginal word that roughly translates
to freezes the balls of a brass monkey. The Nissan hut
they put us in that July night had handily spaced gaps in
the western wall that let the 25 knot westerly slow to
about 15 knots as it passed pass through and brought the
chill factor up to about minus 10. This toughened us up
for the before-first-light assembly on the parade ground
next morning. When the sun finally came up there was a
scene reminiscent of steppes of Russia – hoar frost
whiteness as far as you could see, a few bedraggled huts
that resembled those in pictures of the gulags and several
hundred shivering twenty year olds, who were wondering
what the hell we had got ourselves into. A tough looking
dog sauntered across the parade ground; his coat lightly
dusted with frost and clamped in his jaws was a rabbit,
stiff, not from rigor mortis, but from being snap frozen as
he brought it home. It’s likely the dog belonged to the
camp kitchen cook.
The word got about that there was an escape from this
Siberian wilderness for the lucky few. All you had to do
was answer some tricky questions, do clever things with
logs and imaginary mine-fields, not drop food on the
officers’ mess carpet when feeding and you could go to
Scheyville – a gentle place with warm rooms and caring
instructors , a place fit for young gentlemen.
For those of us that got the nod we were given a greatcoat
to disguise our ill fitting greens, placed on a bus again
and driven to an airport this time and placed on an
aircraft (Ansett) and given breakfast. Life was starting to
pick up. To our surprise we landed at an air force
establishment, the RAAF Base at Richmond, and were
once again put on a bus and given a nice little tour of the
Hawkesbury valley and the Macquarie towns of
Richmond and Windsor, dropped a leftie at McGrath’s
Hill and in no time pulled up on the nice, peaceful
looking parade ground, with the big cannon on it at
Scheyville.
That’s when all hell broke loose. RSM Larry “The Bat”
Moon and the team of masochists and recidivists he had
hand picked, laid about us shouting and threatening us as
we debussed. They were nowhere near as frightening
though as the Save Our Sons ladies. Like a pack of well
trained cattle dogs with an unruly mob of scrub cattle, the
NCO’s somehow doubled this rabble of bemused twenty
year olds all over the camp until we were kitted out and
ready for our cells.
First light the next day was another surprise. Brigadier
Geddes had splurged battalion funds on a scratchy 78
rpm recording of Reveille, which was played at a zillion
decibels, about a half hour before the kookaburras
normally call. (It’s funny, any time I hear the scratchy
sound of an old record I still expect Reveille to follow).
We had been instructed to be outside our cell, in our
“pyjamas for the sleeping of in” and with bedding draped
over our shoulders.
Most of us accomplished this manoeuvre without great
difficulty, which seemed to surprise the hard eyed NCO’s
lurking in the gloom. As the last notes of Reveille trailed
off the great ugly mug of WO2 Johnno Cochrane
appeared nose to nose with mine and he roared “ You’re
an horrible little bastard, Officer Cadet Muller – what are
you?” “ An horrible little bastard saaah“, I replied. A faint
flicker of a smile appeared as he advised that I had scored
a couple of extras for sharing his first opinion of me.
We settled into the gentle rhythms of military life with
ease. WO2 Laurie Tillbrook, the dulcet toned master of
the machine gun, gave us the full rundown on the
capabilities of his favourite weapon. A tear ran down his
cheek as he fondled the breach. There was a poignant
silence then he turned on the squad and barked at a
startled officer cadet Peter Black, “What do you do when
you have a runaway gun?” to which the quick witted
Black replied, “You mount a tripod and give chase
saaah”. Somewhere in the dead of night Peter Black
ceased to be an officer cadet – we never saw him again.
He probably ended up a tankie.
Terry O’Hanlon and I were in the same section and
became good mates and still are. We were paired up for
an exercise in stealthy crawling up on the enemy. Sgt Von
Kurtz (whom we suspected had served in Rommels Afrika
Corp) was installed in that old silo at the head of the
denuded gully and we were instructed to sneak up on
him and effect capture. Terry and I had both grown up in
the bush and were of the opinion that we wouldn’t get
within a bulls roar of him given the camp terrain and the
absence of cover. Terry was always a lateral thinker and
suggested that as there had been no direction to stay
inside the camp boundaries, we might as well nick off
across the adjoining farmland and catch the good
sergeant unawares from behind.
This tactic had an unexpected bonus for me. We were
cutting through the back of a farm and passed close to the
farmhouse when I spotted a sight for sore eyes, partic-
ularly those of a twenty year old male who had been
locked up for a month or so. It was a young lady,
fetchingly clad in a bikini lounging by a pool. We leopard
crawled up to the shrubbery, attracted her attention, had
a pleasant chat, extracted her name and phone number,
promised to be in contact and moved on to capture from
behind, a furious Von Kurtz. To my pleasant surprise this
stunning young lady attended a couple of later social
functions on my arm and pinned on my pips at the
graduation ball. See page 146 of The Scheyville
Experience for photographic evidence
It was the same Terry O’Hanlon who hatched the plan to
paint the RSM’s parade ground cannon either blue, or
pink. We noticed as we doubled past the RSM’s house
that the RSM’s wife was clearly very pregnant. Terry being
a compassionate lad thought we could show our affection
for the RSM by celebrating the imminent birth with some
showy larrikinism. He talked the Presbyterian padre, by
the unlikely name of O’Sullivan, into procuring a can of
pink and a can of blue paint and some nappies, and to act
as our eyes and ears for the birth. The news of a baby girl
came through late one evening and at about 3am the pink
cannon painters swung into action. Kerry Rinkin (who
later stepped on a mine in Vietnam) and David Webster
(who made it to Brigadier) acted as cockatoos whilst Terry
and I were assigned to the parade ground. Terry ran up
the flagpoles, some nicely inscribed celebratory nappies,
whilst I gave the RSM’s pride and joy, his massive parade
ground cannon, an evenly applied coat of nipple pink,
semi-gloss. In the dark we didn’t fully appreciate the
quality of our work. At first light the startled extra drillies
thought that Armageddon was upon them as the staff
poured onto the upper levels to view the sacrilege.
The battalion of cadets was then marched onto the parade
ground to be confronted by virtually every Officer and
NCO and the RSM roaring that he would slow-march us
on the spot until the culprits stepped forward. Many of
you won’t know that after about half an hour of slow
marching on the spot, your thighs begin to scream for
mercy, your calf muscles lock up and your body starts to
go into spasm. We couldn’t have stepped forward at that
stage had we been game to and we weren’t and we
didn’t. Mercifully the RSM brought the whole thing to a
halt and just before he dismissed the parade, he barked
out, “and my wife say thanks”. It was a triumphant
moment.
Larry Moon in later years told me that he and the NCOs’
and junior officers loved it all, as it showed that they
hadn’t broken our spirit. He was also bemused at the time
by the camp 2IC, a somewhat cheerless artilleryman
major, who directed Larry Moon to find the culprits and
charge them. Larry was relieved we went to ground
because he didn’t know what to charge us with –
“Conduct unbecoming in that they celebrated the birth of
his daughter?”
Our first leave after thirty days of being locked up was a
fairly dramatic affair. Kerry Rinkin had a Morris Minor, so
about ten of us promptly became his closest mates and
we headed for the northern beaches of Sydney. Monty
Page 17
A First Class Soiree back in 1965. From left, Gordon
Sharp, Terry O’Hanlon, Des Lyons. Seated, Laurie
Muller with evidence of a successful patrol.
Graduation night 1965 – singing our little hearts out. From left:
Peter Sheedy, Rod Millican, Tony Trevethick, Dave Webster (at back),
Terry Properjohn, Gordon Sharp, Laurie Muller, John O’Halloran,
Bernie Houston, Dave Beasley, Des Lyons and Monty Bagot.
First Class in Muck Order – note only one non-conformist!
Officer Cadet Muller L.C.
in Orderly Officer rig.
RSM Larry “The Bat” Moon confronts his smartly turned out battalion, with a reckless Gordon
Sharp about to intercept.
Page 18
Bagot was a member of Long Reef Surf Club and as they
had bunks in the boatshed we decided to base ourselves
there. The army had thoughtfully kitted us out in quite
inconspicuous going out gear – really quite snappy for an
outing on the northern beaches. Grey trousers, white
shirt, narrow army tie and a navy jacket, plus a close
cropped haircut that was clearly before its time. We
pulled into the Newport Arms for a schooner or several
and had nicely settled in when a fracas developed.
Unbeknown to us the Arms was the territory of a bunch of
local boyos, who rowed surf boats and all played in the
front row – we found out later that they were called the
Newport Nasties.
I don’t know how they worked out we were in the army,
but a few of them offered some advice to myself and JP
O’Halloran and Gordon Sharp, all of us vertically
challenged and some harsh words were exchanged. Terry
O’Hanlon stepped up to the ring leader, a big bloke with
number 3 on his tattered rugby jumper and suggested he
might try someone his own size – and he did and it was
on. We were going pretty well considering how poorly
dressed we were for the occasion – Bombardier Mitchell
would have been impressed by what we had retained
from our unarmed combat training. We would have
completely routed the Nasties had not Tim Bristow the
pub bouncer, and later to become one of the feared men
of Sydney’s underworld, not stepped in. Tim made a snap
decision to throw out the troublemakers and he did it on
the basis of dress standard. As we were clearly better
kitted out than the scruffy Nasties, he grabbed their ring
leaders and their hangers on and put them out the gate.
Tim then nicely welcomed us to the Arms and told us to
make ourselves at home. This was an economic necessity
as there was no-one left in the beer garden. The Nasties
hurled insults over the fence for an hour or so until thirst
drove them elsewhere and OTU celebrated one of its first
victories on Australian soil. Unfortunately our rig for the
going out in didn’t survive its first outing and there
probably are still bits of tie and navy jacket tangled in the
beer garden shrubbery.
What a weekend it was. Long Reef, Dee Why, Curl Curl,
surf races, cold beer, ham-boning on the shark tower,
young ladies – all the good things of life. The trip back to
Scheyville on the Sunday night was broken by a pause for
the last session at the Macquarie Arms at Windsor, where
the Big Pretzel would quite often provide spontaneous
quality entertainment – that together with a Chinese feed
in the main street capped of a great 36 hours leave. And
we had another five months of them to come.
Somewhere between that point and our last leave at King
Cross five months later, we somehow have got through all
the military stuff and ended up with a pip on our shoulder
– it is still one of those sweet, little mysteries of life that
we all managed to get through it.
It has had a lasting impact on most of our lives and we
made a lifetime of good mates from it all.
I for one wouldn’t have missed it for quids.
Laurie Muller 1/65
VALE
Terry Properjohn
Passed away 16 July 2005
Terry Properjohn graduated in the very first class
(1/65) at OTU Scheyville. He died on the eve of the
fortieth anniversary of that first class marching into
Scheyville in July 1965. Terry had been ill for some
little time before returning from Canberra to his
home state of Tasmania to spend his last days. He
leaves behind a loving wife and best friend in Jan
and two grieving sons David and Andrew.
His military career, courtesy of Neil Leckie’s
research, was as follows:
Graduated from OTU 1/65 and posted to 3RAR on
18 Dec1965.Regimental number 6708264 changed
to 61808 on signing with Aust Staff Corps in 1975.
2PIR 26 Feb 1969. Lt 2 July 1969. Temp Capt 9 Jan
1970. AATV Adviser 15 Oct 1970 to 15 Oct 1971.
Oct-Dec 1970 1/4ARVN Quang Ngai. Jan-Oct1971
Jungle Training Centre, Nui Dat. Army Apprentice
School 8 Dec 1972. Captain 15 July 1973. PNG DF
Rec Unit 31 January 1975. Details of post -1975
career under new Reg No still being determined.
Peter Whitelaw (3/66)
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Page 19
VICTORIAN CHAPTER CELEBRATES 40th
ANNIVERSARY OF NATIONAL SERVICE
101 members and friends attended the Annual Dinner of the
OTU Victorian Chapter at Victoria Barracks, Melbourne on
Friday 27th May 2005. The theme for the night was the 40th
Anniversary of the first intake of National Service in 1965.
Among those present were two of Intake 1/65 Adrian
Lombardo and David Sabben along with one of the first
Directing Staff, David Presgrave.
Perennial MC Ray Andrews (1/70) once again entertained and
informed the gathering. After a welcome by Chapter
Chairman Peter Hateley (2/71), Ray welcomed those who had
travelled considerable distance to attend. These included Phil
Riley (1/72) from Kuala Lumpur, Ron Storey (1/72), Rob
Walters (1/72), Allan McCallum (3/70), Gus Steegstra (3/70)
and Brian Scantlebury (3/67). (Brian had not given his class
number but claimed that he had no class, so it didn’t matter!)
During the course of the evening, Ray asked if there were any
ladies present that were ‘on the scene’ when their
husband/partner commenced their National Service. Three
indicated that they had been. Ray Selected Pamela Lombardo
(wife of Adrian Lombardo – 1/65) to give ‘a three minute
talk’ to the assembled crowd. (Pamela had actually been
asked in advanced and she used the seven Ps.)
It was won by Ros Lewis (Dave Lewis – 2/68). Second Prize,
a $200 Great Chef’s Dinner for four at William Angliss
College was donated by Chris Coates (3/71). This was won by
Kerrie Walker (Colin Walker – 3/70). Third Prize, a $150
Display Frame of Medals etc, donated by David Presgrave
and was won by Margot Stork (Carl Wood – 1/72). Mick
Stone (1/68) donated a $100 voucher from Camberwell
Books, which was won by Christine Edrich. Jeff Coster, a
3/69 Cadet who was medically discharged, donated a $100
voucher from his business Frets’n’notes. Jeff describes his
business as fixing problems with people’s Cords and Gstrings. Maureen Cronin (Robert Cronin – 2/67) won the
prize. Frank Miller’s (4/67) chocolates were shared by Reg
Biggs (2/70), Ian Dobie (2/67) and Irene Stone (Mick Stone
1/67).
The dinner concluded with a birthday cake for the 11
members who had turned 60 in the previous 12 months.
A great night was had by all, including the 11 members who
attended their first OTU Victorian Chapter Dinner.
Pamela’s informative talk was humorous, honest, emotional,
relevant and entertaining for all in attendance. She described
their feelings from receipt of Adrian’s Call Up Notice,
through the course and on to Adrian’s commissioning and
service.
Adrian’s right of reply confirmed what Pamela had been
saying and he spoke about a number of highs and lows of the
course and how his National Service Call Up had changed
their lives.
The gathering was also entertained and informed by David
Presgrave, an original DS, who spoke on the formation of this
new unit called ‘Scheyville OTU’. After finally locating the
unit, David commenced duty on perhaps an apt date, 1st April
1965 and served at OTU for 3 years and 5 months.
Later in the evening the gathering was addressed by a young
lady, Emma Broughton. Emma was co-sponsored by OTU
Vic and Ray Elder’s (2/67) Rotary Club Branch to attend a
week long Rotary Youth Leadership Camp. Emma explained
how the camp changed her life from being a successful, but
not overly happy, Child Therapist, to a 000 Call Centre
Operator, a job she finds fulfils her core values in life.
A raffle to support Youth Leadership was held during the
night. First Prize, a $500 Coles Myer Gift Voucher was
donated by John Fletcher (1/72), now the CEO of Coles Myer.
Page 20
Adrian Lombardo (1/65) – in full flight.
First-timers.
Turning 60 and struggling with a cake!
Classmates from 1 of 72.
Somers Camp attendees
with OTU’s Peter Whitelaw.
Page 21
New South Wales Chapter News and Activities
On Saturday 18 June, a collection of
the usual suspects (and a few new ones)
gathered at the Victoria Barracks
Officers’ Mess for the NSW Branch
dinner. The company was excellent, the
food delicious and an extremely
enjoyable evening was had by all.
Guests of honour at the dinner were the
young people who had been attending
the Lord and Lady Somers camps and
who had come along to tell us about
their experiences. This was really a
highlight of the evening as they
recounted their impressions of, and
reactions to, the "character building"
they had "endured" during the camps.
There were two points about these
presentations which really impressed
your correspondent. Firstly, was the
obvious maturity of the young men and
women who were speaking to us. The
future of Australia will be in good
hands while there are people like this
growing up in our community.
Secondly, their reactions to the
"character building" (aka barstardization) which they experienced seemed
to me to be very much the same as I
remember at Scheyville in 1966.
Admittedly, we were a bit older than
they are and also our "experience" went
on for a lot longer but the impact on the
recipients does not seem to be very
different in principle.
Brigadier Geddes was present in spite
of the recent loss of his wife and it was
very good to see him again.
One of the features of the evening was
the fact that class 2/66 was represented
by no fewer than four members. Tom
Geczy and I could not see any other
class with this many present. How
many were there from your class?
The accompanying pictures will give
some idea of the dissolute representation of the evening. Let us hope that
we see you there next time.
Robert Wood 2/66
Victoria Barracks, Sydney
Victoria Barracks, Sydney,
from Tony Sonneveld’s perspective.
Page 22
Table shots of NSW Dinner attendees, Officers’ Mess, Victoria Barracks.
Page 23
From left: Lisa Elliott, Brig. Ian Geddes with Amy Fahy; Shane Shokman.
More scenes from the NSW Dinner, photo above with Barbara Bertinetti, Ralph Bertinetti (1/67),
Joan Wood, Robert Wood (2/66), Tom Geczy (2/66) and Gloria Bleasedale.
Page 24
NSW Scheyvillians meeting for a quarterly lunch at Drummoyne Rowers Club and the Rogues Gallery below.
Peter Krauklis 4/69
Richard Jeffkins 1/70
David Morgan 3/72
Greg Todd 2/71
Colin Gray 1/72
Doug Oliver 4/71
Geoff Bennett 2/66
Kevin Dixon 4/69
Dick Adams 3/72
Paul Meldrum 3/68
Malcolm Boyd 1/70
Greg Jenkins 3/70
Nick Israel 2/70
Wayne Broun 4/72
with John Neervoort 2/67 in background.
Tony Sonneveld 1/70
Page 25
Kokoda Memorial Walk, Concord, NSW
Photos courtesy Tony Sonneveld (1/70)
Page 26
Queensland – Beautiful One Day
– A Bit Hung-over the Next
Geoff Daly (4/69)
The Queensland Chapter celebrated the 40th
Anniversary in considerable and sustained style, as
befits such an auspicious anniversary.
The year kicked off with the annual Black Tie
dinner at the gracious old United Services Club on
Wickham Terrace. Under the benevolent gaze of
the head banana himself, Gary McKay MC, bon
vivant and taskmaster, a gathering of some of
Scheyville’s finest turned out, resplendent in
dinner suits, medals and accompanied by some of
the most gracious women on the planet. Amongst
the throng were two former Chief Instructors; Stan
Maizey (67-69) and Dick Flint (69-71) and a
former Adjutant David Nickols (66/67). Given that
the evening was to celebrate the 40th, young
McKay gave the task of guest speaker to the oldest
codger in the room, the newly turned sixty-yearold Laurie Muller (1/65). The speech seemed to be
mainly about a great battle in the dim mists of time
at the Newport Arms on Sydney’s Northern
Beaches and the ladies seemed to have liked it. In
fact they seemed to have liked the whole evening
including a rousing toast to OTU Scheyville by
Peter Lauder MC (2/66) and mellifluous rendition
of the OTU Song by the all male choir.
As the photographs show it was indeed and
evening of sophistication and glamour and quite a
step up from the normal boozy lunch at Fridays.
Pictured in formal fineries,
clockwise from above:
Geoffrey Colless (1/71),
Owen Williamson (4/70),
Allan Burman (2/68),
Warwick Goode (2/68),
Gary McKay (2/68),
Laurie Muller (1/65),
Peter Lauder (2/66)
and a bevy of beauties.
Page 27
Still a little
bit hung-over ...
The boozy lunches continued throughout the year
on the second Thursday at Fridays and culminated
in the Christmas lunch that carried on into the
early evening. It was momentarily interrupted by a
massive tropical thunderstorm that shut down half
of the City, but overall had little real impact on the
momentum of the OTU celebration.
As part of the 40th celebrations a good old
fashioned BBQ was held on the beautiful rural
property of Owen Williamson (4/70). A
spectacular display of Owen’s vintage cars greeted
the large gathering, who were surprised to see
Lang Kidby’s giant prime mover parked amongst
them and nestled up against it Gazza McKay’s
wimpy, little Brumby Ute. It was great to see so
many Scheyvillans and their wives from all over SE
Qld enjoying each other’s company and
appreciating the generous hospitality of Linda and
Owen Williamson.
The photos give some idea of the relaxed good fun
of the day.
The final event for the year was the annual OTU
Golf Day held at the famed Indooroopilly Golf
Club. A smaller field than in previous years due to
a competing Vietnam Vets function it was
nevertheless a good day for golf in good company,
followed by a well earned lunch, trophy presentations and a longish cheese and bikkies session
sorting out the world’s problems. The winners of
the two man event, a 4BBB Stableford, were Vince
Green (2/72) and Peter Lauder (2/66) with Vince
Green himself taking out the single Stableford
event. It was great t see “Maffa”, Barry Maffescioni
(4/70), back in action after a bout of ill health.
Winners are grinners! Peter Lauder and Vince Green.
Page 28
Don Keyes explains the finer points of not falling
off a chair to Col Burg.
Victoria Does It In Style
A scrum of 1/72ers. Front-rowers: Riley, Gadsen,
Fletcher; back-rowers: Walters, Ballard, Storey
and Wood.
The First-Timers Eleven at the Victorian Annual
Dinner.
Doing the Lombardo! Adrian Lombardo (1/65)
in full cry at the 40th Anniversary Dinner,
Melbourne.
Their Majesties! Pamela Lombardo and Elizabeth II –
an impressive pair at the Victorian Dinner.
The famous
Kinross B&B at
Beechworth,
Victoria.
Mine hosts at Kinross – the most hospitable
Walshs – Terry and Gail
Jan Gedde’s Memorial Service in Sydney.
OTU Mourners – including Tony Sonneveld and
Greg Todd.
Page 29
Queensland Celebrates at the 40th
Anniversary Dinner
Let’s go home
darling! Cilla and
Rick Vickers (1/72)
Peter Lauder MC (2/66) holds court.
Hey it’s a great party!
Rob Johnson (4/71)
Geoff Daly (4/69).
Adjusting for
magnetic
variation?
Warwick Goode (2/68).
No longer hirsute but
well bow-tied.
Three Wise Men? Officer Cadets Colless (1/71),
Williamson (4/70) and Burman (2/68).
The Guest
Speaker and old
codger from 1/65
– Officer Cadet
Muller.
Adding some glamour
– Melanie Keyes,
wife of Don (4/69)
Page 30
NSW at Victoria Baracks
40th Anniversary Dinner
The first Commandant – Brigadier Ian Geddes
and the Pocket Dynamo Tony Sonneveld (1/70).
Table nine including Geoff Bennett (2/66) and
Peter Lloyd (2/71).
A well satisfied table – including Doug Miller (1/71),
Peter Williams (1/71) and John Carroll (1/67) with
their wives Angela, Trish and Susan.
Douglas Geddes (standing), son of Ian, matches
pendulums with the grandfather clock.
The resplendant Robert Wood (2/66)
Greg Todd (2/71), NSW Chairman,
keeping good order and discipline.
Lunching at Drummoyne Rowers Club – with
Dick Adams (3/72) packing into the front row
as hooker.
Greg Todd (2/71) considering purloining an
unattended meal at Drummoyne Rowers.
Page 31
Something Old Something New
OTU Scheyville from the air about 1966.
A bright, shining, new OTU Scheyville,
glistening in the sun.
Page 32
OTU stalwarts Brigadier Paddy Outridge and
Lt. Col Dick Flint, striding it out on Anzac Day
at Gympie.
Owen Williamson (4/70) enjoying a Christmas joke with
Stephanie Mauchlan (1/06) on a Thursday at Fridays.
The 40th Anniversary Qld BBQ – with dual
Rugby international Geoff Richardson (1/70)
about to flick pass a bottle of red.
Christmas Lunch at Fridays – Peter Watson (1/67)
goes for the snatch and slurp!
KILLS 2 RTB
Neil Leckie (3/68)
In the National Service Era, Puckapunyal’s 2 RTB marched in
20 platoons of 64 men each in four companies, four times a
year. Each accommodation hut would house a 16 man Section
in 4 cubicles. A typical March-Out Parade at 2 RTB would
see 1024 men on parade. At the same time 1 RTB would
March-In 9 platoons of 48 men, which were housed in the 3
story brick accommodation buildings which had 6 four man
rooms along each side of each floor. As the Regular Army
Recruits were also trained at 1 RTB, any number of platoons
above the 24 housed in the brick buildings would find
themselves accommodated in Silver City, the Nissen Huts of
E Company out the back of Kapooka. If numbers required, 3
TB at Singleton would also have an intake of National Service
Recruits.
The 2 RTB buildings were built in 1964/65 for the first intake
of National Service Recruits, Intake 1/65. The areas on which
they were built were called A Block, south of Beersheba Road
and O Block, north of Beersheba Road. A Block housed A
Coy, next to the Main Parade Ground, and B Coy. Both
companies ate in the A Block Mess. O Block housed C Coy
on the east near the Sgt Mess and D Coy on the west. C and D
Companies ate in the O Block Mess.
Since National Service ended, these blocks have been used by
numerous units including 3 Trg Gp, which undertook Reserve
Recruit and Promotion Courses in O Block in particular. In
more recent times, the A Coy lines have been known as the
Pucka Transit Lines and have been used by units for courses
by both Reserve and ARA units and for weekends by Reserve
Units. As Site 6 at Scrub Hill is being wound down, O Block
is being used by more units and some of the buildings are
being maintained.
Unfortunately, as all buildings in the former 2 RTB Area were
made with asbestos, they are being progressively demolished.
The first demolished are the A Coy buildings nearest the
Parade Ground on the RAP or ARA NCO Staff Quarters side.
These will be followed by those on the other side near the
Parade ground and will be then by the A Block Kitchen.
It is a sad sight to see the bulldozers and grab cranes tearing
down these building which stood proudly and have served the
Army so well for 40 years. Although many have had some
changes to their internal wall arrangements, such as turning 4
man spaces into 2 single rooms, and some have had their
wooden windows replaced with aluminum ones, the majority
remain quite straight and are still useful for the current tasks.
However, it must be said the ‘Asbestosis is killing 2 RTB.’
Page 33
Avalon Airshow
2005: A Small
World or Nasho
Reunion?
John Foster and Neil Leckie (3/68),
comparing dogtags after an amazing coincidence.
With my 60th birthday only eighteen months away and
my military career then coming to a close, I have been
looking at undertaking some Army Reserve activities
that are a little out of the ordinary. One such activity
arose when the Victorian Army Reserve 4th Brigade
was tasked with co-ordinating the Australian Defence
Force (ADF) Ground Display at the Avalon Airshow in
March. When the call went out for an Army Reserve
Major to be the Executive Officer on the ground, I did
the un-Army thing and volunteered.
About 10 days out from the Airshow I began to take over
the reins from the full-time brigade staff that had done
the initial planning. Ten days later I was thinking ‘Why
did I volunteer for this?’ However, the display came
together quite well considering all the ‘moving parts’
involved i.e. Navy, Army, Army Reserve, RAAF and
Army and RAAF Museums.
The 4th Brigade provided capability displays from
Armour (M113 APC), Artillery (105mm and 155mm),
Engineers, Signals, Infantry (5/6 RVR and 8/7 RVR) and
Combat Service Support. Other Army displays were
Armour (Leopard and ASLAV), Air Defence,
Commandos, Transport, Recovery and Petrol Supply.
The Navy provided a Clearance Diving Team and a
Display Diving Tank (I hope their ships don’t leak as
badly as their diving tank does), while the RAAF
provided an Airfield Defence Guard display. All this was
tied in with the RAAF Museum, which also included a
display from the Army Museum at Bandiana and an
ejection module from an F111. Defence Force
Recruiting, the Navy and the RAAF provided staff for the
recruiting display.
Like the ADF Display, there were many other nonaviation exhibits at the Airshow. These included a
Historic Military Vehicle display and a mobile display
from the Vietnam Veterans Museum that is based at
Phillip Island, both of which were located directly across
the road from the ADF Display. The Vietnam Vets
provided a ‘Birddog’ aircraft.
Being a Nasho, and obviously having served in the
Vietnam War era, I naturally visited the Vietnam
Veterans’ display and spoke to many of the members.
One of the first I spoke to was Peter Austin (3793182)
who told me he served his Nasho time in 1968/69. It
turns out that we both enlisted on 7th February 1968.
Peter told me that there was a mate of his there, John
Foster, who also enlisted on the same day. Peter and
John both served in Vietnam in the Engineers. The
following day John was looking at my Army ID Card
when he realised that his Regimental Number was the
one before mine. On 7th February 1968, John must
have been the man in front of me when we received our
numbers. The following day John brought his ID Tags
and sure enough there were 3792830 and 3792831 side
by side again. A small world indeed!
The next day, when visiting the Vietnam Vets I was
introduced to another Nasho. Stuart Hilsberg (3793739)
who commenced OTU with 2/68. Stuart now lives in
Currimundi in Queensland and has worked in the
aviation field for most of his life. He was most interested
to hear about the OTU Association.Stuart said: “Yes it
was a surprise and a pleasant one at that, to catch up
with somebody from my dim past. In some ways I was
always disappointed/embarrassed that I didn't complete
and graduate from OTU. This was directly as a
consequence of contracting an illness (Glandular Fever)
that resulted from the series of vaccinations we always
seemed to be getting, I finished up in hospital for a
couple of weeks. On the other hand, you can't change
the past but you can affect your future.
I honestly believe and am thankful for the positive (and
very enjoyable) time and effect doing NS had on my life.
I can say now that prior to NS as a sales/storeman for
John McIlwraith Industries that I really lacked direction
or even a goal in life. The Army actually opened my
eyes and my mind to my future even though the Army
was not part of my future post NS.
I was called up in May '68 and went initially to 2RTB at
Pucka. It was there I was selected for OTU a couple of
weeks into Basic Training. The only thing I remember
about Pucka was that Sam Newman, the then Geelong
footballer and now TV personality and I were in the
Continued page 36.
Page 34
The Burrcutters Union –
but don’t tell anyone!
Does this sound familiar? Grown men,
many prominent in their fields,
anonymously replaying 20 year-olds for
a couple of hours several times a year,
in a group with great traditions and
many artefacts, and a heartily sung
anthem, where folklore (and a good
joke) never gets in the way of a good
story.
OTU Association, you say? In fact, it’s
The Burrcutters Union – but don’t tell
anyone!
Heard at a recent Burrcutters Union
meeting: A guy walks into the psychiatrist wearing only Clingfilm for shorts.
The shrink says, "Well, I can clearly see
you're nuts."
Now that I’ve got your attention, let me
declare upfront that I cannot publicly
confirm or deny that what I am about to
tell you.
Who would believe a story about
graduates of a most famous national
institution seriously dedicated to
training the best of the best young
Australians to lead 30-odd other young
men on cross-country walks around a
distant South East Asian country? Why
would these respectable OTU graduates
ever consider infiltrating The
Burrcutters Union, a respected, but
secret, organisation dedicated to:
this bloke says to me "Can you give me
a lift?" I said "Sure, you look great, the
world's your oyster, go for it.'
I’m sure that everyone reading this
article can tell a better joke! Funnily
enough, that is what got we OTU
graduates into The Burrcutters Union in
the first place, led by The President
(OTU class 1/70), a prominent member
of the OTU Association who shall go
nameless (a full list of OTU members
of the Burrcutters is at the end of this
article) and chief joke teller.
So you say, what is the The Burrcutters
Union? And how did the OTU get
involved?
We all probably remember the OTU
story. Forty years ago, in the sixties,
which we don’t remember because we
were there, a group of young men got
together in the New South Wales
countryside to have two cans of VB and
a few good jokes before dinner. We
were lead by the PMC, who sat at the
head table with the occasional invited
guest, enforced strict dining etiquette,
told us when to eat and later ran mess
meetings at which we moved motions
that no one took any notice off, in
between lousy jokes and the singing of
the OTU song.Funnily enough, at about
the same time not that far away in
Wagga Wagga, a few young civilian
men started doing much the same thing,
and calling themselves The Burrcutters
Union. And they’ve been doing the
same ever since.
The first thing that strikes you about the
Burrcutters is their humility. You
quickly learn that the lowliest job on
any farming property is cutting burrs,
particularly Bathurst Burrs, the very
curse of farming and grazing. Bit like
junior class cadets in their first four
weeks at Scheyville.
To honour the burrcutter, anonymous
men of prominent position in the
community gather on the first Friday
each month (except January) to
maintain the Burrcutter tradition, revere
artifacts, sing the Anthem, enjoy a little
frivolity, exchange the latest jokes and
stories, not listen to guest speakers and
then forget to hurry back to their
offices.
And you wonder what attracted The
President and a few good OTU men to
the Burrcutters?
You know how you sometimes forget
the names of other graduates at OTU
Association functions (OK, it’s old
age)? The Burrcutters understand how
“The study and advancement of the
ideals, moral attitudes and techniques
of burrcutting, and shall include the
pursuance of any cultural activity
reasonably incidental thereto, but shall
not include any activity of a charitable
or otherwise offensive nature.”
Now I may or may not be a member of
the aforementioned Union, but let me
acknowledge my debt to the author of
the non-selling history of the
Burrcutters for the above quote, and
anything else remotely libellous in this
story.So I was getting into my car, and
Doug Oliver – OC Burrcutters – introduces Colin Gray.
Page 35
this can occur, and so anonymously
refer to their members by their
occupations, professions and callings,
or some other memorable feature – like
the colour of their hair. So I can tell you
about The President.
It’s simple. The President led the OTU
Association during the period around
the incredibly memorable 30th year
national reunion. Need I say anymore?
The President doesn’t do it on his own:
17 of us are Burrcutters. There is the
Real Estate Agent (OTU class 2/72) the
Computer Salesman (2/71), the
Government Adviser (2/66), the
Colonel (4/71) and many others – see
the list below. You may recognise a few
of us in this photo from a recent
Burrcutters meeting.
• And many others that have been
government ministers, a State
Governor, company chief executives
and senior Defence Force officers.
number to climb as digging continues
into the night!
The Burrcutters meet for lunch at a
quiet restaurant in the inner Sydney
suburb of Ultimo where we won’t
disturb anyone with our anthem
singing, story telling and general
enjoyment of each other’s company
once a month.
OTU
graduates involved with
Burrcutters over the past five years:
Keep smiling! Ireland's worst air
disaster occurred early this morning
when a small two-seater Cessna plane
crashed into a cemetery. Irish search
and rescue workers have recovered
1826 bodies so far and expect that
Postscript
Geoff Bennett (2/66), Tom Geczy (2/66),
Gordon Alexander (3/66), David
Longhurst (1/67), Joe Hassan (2/67),
David Coulter (1/69), Peter Wotton
(2/69), Malcolm Brown (3/69), Jim
Berry (1/70), Tony Sonneveld (1/70),
Chris Miller (2/70), Doug Miller (1/71),
John Murray (1/71), Greg Todd (2/71),
Doug Oliver (4/71), Col Gray (1/72)
and Al Hirschel (2/72)
Story by Doug Oliver (4/71)
We join the many Burrcutter characters
including:
• The Judge (a member of the NSW
Bench and past NSW Attorney-general)
• The Artist (a famous newspaper
cartoonist and author)
• The Gardener (seen in houses and
gardens on TV)
• The Admiral
• The Taxi Driver
• The Airman
Burrcutters of the OTU Variety.
Avalon Airshow, continued from page 34.
same platoon. Perhaps I shouldn't say that too loudly!
I left OTU after 16 weeks for the (then) RAASC Centre at Pucka for training as an Air Dispatcher. That completed, I
was posted to 40 Air Dispatch Platoon, 1 AASO at Wallgrove NSW. After a couple of months there I was offered a
posting to the Army component of the Air Movements Training & Development Unit at RAAF Richmond. I spent the
remainder of my NS at AMTDU. My time at AMTDU was a total delight, terrific people, interesting air drop projects
and I learned some skills I carry with me to this day. Thanks to the communication powers of the Internet I recently
'found' the Air Dispatch Association of Australia (http://www.diggerz.org/~adaa/index.html ) and joined.
As required by the NS Act I returned to my pre-call up employer but found like most NSmen, the world was a very
different place than the one we had left and we were different people too. I think I lasted all of 2 weeks selling taps
and sewerage pipes.”
Back to the Airshow: As far as the Airshow went, the ADF Ground Display provided a Capability Display on the
ground, an Air Mobile Platoon for the Army’s flying display and a piquet for the ADF Assets at both Avalon and
Laverton. The Air Mobile Platoon and piquet flew in three varieties of Army Helicopters – Blackhawk, Chinook and
yes, Iroquois. Some ADF members flew to and from their accommodation at Pt Cook in a Caribou.
As for me, who else got to go to the Airshow for ten days, answer a few ‘phone calls and questions, see all it had to
offer, meet the State Governor Mr John Landy, who also happens to be the Honorary Colonel of the Royal Victoria
Regiment, which is my regiment, the CDF (again – 4th time), the CA (again – 3rd time), the CAF, catch up with some
Nashos and get paid to do it? It’s a pity the next Airshow is not until after I am due for retirement.
Neil Leckie 3/68
Page 36
from Lang Kidby (1/67)
Lang Kidby does the
United Nations – In
Bhutan
Lang Kidby (1/67) seems to be
trying to shame us all into getting off our backsides and
putting a bit of real adventure
into our lives.
Not that long after the Peking to
Paris Car Rally, Lang headed
off to Bhutan to oversee a United
Nations food distribution programme. His reports from the
front, The Bhutan Bugles, show
that for Lang, life was not all
Arak and yak butter.
The Kingdon of Bhutan is one of
the world’s smallest countries,
sandwiched between India and
China and the Great Himalaya
Range.
Having arrived at Paro Airport we
had to drive the 60km to the capital
Thimpu which is in the next valley. It
took over two hours on the narrow
winding road. I doubt there is any
flat ground in Bhutan.
The rushing rivers are unbelievably
clear as they come from the snowy
peaks to the north. In the sections
between the rapids the water is
totally transparent. A great pity this
pristine water eventually finishes up
in the Brahmaputra River in India.
The buildings are very un-Asian and
the towns look like Swiss villages.
Everyone wears national dress
(compulsory for government
employees) and the society is based
around the Bhuddist religion and the
King. The King is a benevolent
despot despite the illusion of a
parliament, which he can, and does
override. The Monks have 20% of
the seats in parliament. Despite all
this, the first impression is of a pretty
contented people, happy with the,
undoubtedly popular, king’s superior
wisdom.
The local newspaper is a totally
sycophantic publication but there are
no restrictions on 50-channel
cable/sat TV or broadband Internet
services. Mobile phones work in two
or three of the bigger towns (with a
population of 600,000 in the whole
country, “big” is a relative term).
English is universal as it the language
used in the schools.
Tourism is totally controlled with
only 7,000 per year (140 per week!)
coming in to the country. $US200
per day must be spent and everyone
must be accompanied by a tour
leader. If you come as a couple or
singly you still must have a tour
guide and get charged 40% extra!
The king does his duty and, coming
back from the market in Thimpu, I
saw a school athletics carnival on the
city sports field. Right on the finish
line there was a large white tent with
the king in all his golden finery
sitting on a large throne-like chair
surrounded by his four Queens (like
being on a QANTAS flight), courtiers
and advisers. Reminded me of King
John at the jousting competitions.
Page 37
After a couple of days in the capital
Thimpu I set off to drive the 170km
to Phuentsholing on the Indian
border. We only stopped for a
twenty-minute break for lunch and
the trip took 6 hours. I doubt there
was 100 metres of straight road
anywhere on the journey. A single
lane continuous switchback road
precariously cut into the valley sides
is the main highway in the country.
Landslide closures are a daily
occurrence. It is not without just
cause that the Thimpu-Phuentsholing
bus is called the “Vomit Comet”. The
traffic is not heavy but when you
come up behind a truck it stops
immediately on the toot of the horn
to let you pass. I have never seen
such polite drivers.
Arrival at Phuentsholing is quite
spectacular, as you are still 2,500
feet above the town 5km out. The
mountains just form a wall rising up
from the Bengal plains – no foothills.
As we got further south the sparse
vegetation turned into full-on rain
forest.
When the British forced the
Bhutanese to give up their territory in
the 1800’s they drew the border right
along the hills leaving the Bhutanese
not one square inch of their previous
fertile Brahmaputra Valley plains.
The Indian border runs right through
Phuentsholing and is basically open.
The border actually divides a street
with just a deep stormwater drain
indicating its presence. People are
supposed to go through the gate but
the police occasionally remove
planks across the drain placed by
those too lazy to walk up to the
official crossing. All Indians must be
back in India by 6.00pm. How they
would ever know has got me beat.
I did an exploration into Indian
Jaigiang, the sister town or, more
correctly, the southern half of the
Phuentsholing/Jaigiang city complex.
I was a little worried about getting
back as I did not have my passport so
I asked the customs inspector sitting
on a deck chair on the footpath as
streams of Indians flooded by into
Bhutan for the day.
Page 38
“Do you have a Bhutan visa?”
“Yes, but I do not have my passport
with me.”
“That is OK. Just so long as you tell
us you have one you can come back
in.”
So much for the three weeks notice
for visa application, issue of
individual invitations and prepayment of $200 per day!
The
comparison
between
Phuentsholing and Jiagiang is quite
remarkable. The Bhutan side is quiet,
orderly and clean while on the other
side of the gate it was a typical
seething Indian town with broken
drains, piles of rubbish, beggars and
shouting shopkeepers.
My duties commenced with
inspection of the various warehouses
holding hundreds of tons of food for
the school distribution in January and
resulted in a big list of repairs and
modifications for the Food
Corporation of Bhutan to carry out.
The worries about the Bhuddist
aversion to killing (rats) have been
overcome by employing Indian
warehouse labourers The killing
aversion is not a universal embargo
or moral position but a personal
restriction on the path to enlightenment. If others choose to kill that is
their bad luck and they will never
reach Nirvana.
I could not understand seeing
Bhuddist monks wolfing down Lamb
Roghan Josh or beef kebabs until it
was explained that Bhudda said you
must not kill but never said you can
not eat meat. An underclass carries
on the trade of butchers accepting
they are never going to reach enlightenment while providing the pious
with food. “If it is already dead, we
may as well eat it.”
Sex Crazed Grandmothers:
Read the article in today’s paper
describing how 50% of condoms
issued in the AIDS prevention
program have gone to women aged
60 to 80. No such luck for the
grandfathers as investigations
revealed the lubricant on the
condoms enhanced the smoothness
and appearance of the fine threads
the grandmothers use in their
traditional weaving!
...
Having been in Bhutan for 3 weeks
WFP decided to send me on a ten
day tour of the country to inspect all
the small food stores in preparation
for the next food distribution in
January. I travelled the 168
kilometres (and six hours driving)
from my base at Phuentsholing to the
national capitol of Thimpu. After a
night in the hotel with earplugs worn
against the hundreds of continuously
barking dogs, I set off with Megrehj,
the Food Corporation of Bhutan
representative, Tashi Doma the WFP
Logistics Officer and Tashi our driver
(Tashi and Tashi are male and female
but the name is bisexual so to speak).
We headed into the mountains on
the usual single lane ledge hacked
into the cliffs. The scenery is
spectacular and at one stage we
crossed a 12,500 foot pass, sliding
on black ice inches away from an
unguarded 1,500 foot vertical drop.
Each morning when we set off Tashi
spent about 5 minutes singing under
his breath. When I asked him what
he was singing he told me he was
praying that we would not slide off
the mountain today. I thought this
was a pretty good idea so told him
before he finishes his conversation
with Buddha each morning to say
“Lang sends his regards and says the
same.”
One night we stopped in Mongar
(9,000’ altitude) and checked into a
basic establishment (with resident
dogs of course). There were cracks in
the walls and I had to get into my
sleeping bag under the bed covers.
Arising next morning I went into the
“bathroom” and went flat on my
back. There was no shower and you
had to bucket water over yourself
and the water left on the floor from
the night before had frozen into a
sheet of ice.
Over the next few days we went
from small store to small store. Most
of these are built on ledges in or near
a tiny settlement and are as far as
trucks can travel up that particular
valley. The schools then come down
with their horses, donkeys and yaks
to collect the food and take it back
into the mountains. A couple of
schools in this area are two days
walk but in the north east there is
one requiring six days walking.
During inspection of one store a
truck, loaded with rice, arrived from
India. As it backed up to the loading
ramp I noticed a family of rats leap
off the back and scurry straight into
the store disappearing under the
pallets of bagged food inside. The
boys told me these were not just any
rats – they were Bengal Rats! I got a
pretty good look at them and think
the only way to tell the difference
between the touring Indian rats and
the Bhutanese stay-at-home variety is
by their suitcases, sunglasses and
Hawaiian shirts.
We finished one day at a small
village near the Tibetan border
which just happened to be our
driver, Tashi’s, home town. He told
us that after we were settled at our
hotel – for want of a better word –
his parents wished us to come for
dinner.
He later picked us up in the
Landcruiser and we scrambled up a
four wheel drive track far into the
mountains. Eventually we stopped
and Tashi pointed to a tiny house
somehow attached to the side of the
mountain far below the road. The
almost vertical twenty minute
descent on a rough footpad brought
us to his home where his parents
scrape an existence from one tiny
rice paddy terrace, one cow and a
couple of pigs. His toothless old dad
and wrinkled, round-faced mother
welcomed us into their three room
dwelling.
We were taken into the living room
where a great effort had been made
to prepare with nice carpets,
obviously only used for special
occasions, laid out for us to sit upon.
A rough wooden altar festooned with
pictures of the King and the Dalai
Lama, cut from magazines and lit
with candles stood against one wall.
The first treat was a serving of Arak,
the local farm-distilled drink. I had
been told previously that this was
normally 110 proof (55% alcohol). It
is a clear liquid tasting something
like a mix of bad sake and rough gin
with a dash of paint thinner. Tashi’s
dad brought in a saucepan full,
heated to just below boiling, which
he placed in front of us. He then
produced an egg and whipped it into
the liquor which was soon swirling
with lumps of poached egg. The final
touch was a heaped tablespoon of
yellow-green rancid butter. This
spread across the mixture like an evil
scum.
As a very large bowl of arak
containing at least half a litre was
placed before me I thought “This is
going to be interesting.”
Mother saved the day for, before I
could put off drinking no longer, she
appeared with two large bowls and
placed them before us. To each of us
she gave a large plate containing rice
and, on top, a great pile of the hottest
chilies known to man. No other meat
or vegetables, just chilies. Of course
there were no utensils and we ate
with our fingers.
Anticipating a bit of a test, I thrust the
first handful into my mouth. I can tell
you right now that women in
childbirth know nothing about pain!
Instantly my eyes watered but I
thought it can’t get any worse, so
plunged on to finish it in one painful
short period. This was a bad mistake.
The pain went straight to eleven out
of ten. By now I could not see
through the tears, sweat had broken
out on my brow and my nose started
to run. Not having the forethought to
bring a handkerchief, I wiped the
flowing snot from my nose with the
back of my hand, immediately
transferring chili to my nasal
passages. About this time I reminded
myself of my oft quoted phrase
“Giving up anywhere short of death
is a mental decision.”
I could not give up in the face of the
intense scrutiny of the family but I
definitely needed some relief. The
only liquid available was the foul
potion sitting in the bowl in front of
me but, desperate times require
desperate measures.
I grabbed the bowl and in one
continuous draft consumed the entire
half litre. It could have been the
finest champagne or diesel fuel as far
as my decimated taste buds could
tell but at least it was liquid. The
pain immediately decreased to a
manageable five out of ten.
There I sat with a sweat beaded brow
and tears flowing from my eyes
down my cheeks. Snot was pouring
from my nose over my yellow, rancid
butter soaked moustache and lumps
of semi-poached egg hung from my
beard. But, as I tried to focus through
blurred vision, I saw the wide
toothless grin and the extra hundred
wrinkles that had appeared on the
round, beaming face. All in all, I
think I carried it off rather well.
The exit on hands and knees up the
vertical path in the pitch black
darkness remains a little unclear. The
next morning I resolved to erase the
whole incident from my mind but
was unfortunately forcibly reminded
by nature a couple of times during
the day.
The instant height of the Bhutanese
mountains is amazing. After sliding
across the high road on slick ice at
3.00pm we were back down on the
border of Assam at 5.00pm checking
into a hotel fitted with much needed
mosquito nets and fans. Samdrup
Jonkhar is another teeming border
town similar to Phuentsoling with
Indians allowed across on a daylight
Page 39
basis. Unfortunately it is the centre of
Assamese independence rebels and
the Bhutanese close the border
regularly any time they get uppity.
I was absolutely overjoyed while
wandering around Samdrup Jonkhar
to make reaquaintance with a
company I had seen in Calcutta 12
years ago. They have obviously been
successful and opened a local
branch.
J.B. GUPTA & SONS of Calcutta
Purveyors of Lingerie
for Ladies of Distinction
We have had a hand in womens’
underwear for 30 years!
...
Having finished a 10 day trip through
Bhutan looking at warehouses and
school stores prior to the January
food distribution it was time to turn
around and return to Phuentsholing.
The journey from Samdrup Jonkhar
in the east to Phuentsholing in the
west was only about 200km in a
straight line but travelling via Bhutan
takes three full days driving via the
mountains.
The possibility of going through the
flatlands of India existed but created
all sorts of security problems. As I
think I already related, a couple of
years ago the Bhutanese, under
pressure from India, cleaned out the
Assam Free State rebels hiding in the
jungle on their side of the border.
The rebels did not take too kindly to
this so took out a Bhutanese bus
travelling in India and killed 26
people.
Since that time all Bhutanese
vehicles must travel in convoy with
military escorts until they are out of
Assam. There are only three convoys
a week and if you miss these the only
option is the mountain road and
three days driving. Another problem
for me was, while the Bhutanese
need no permits, all other foreigners
in the rebel territory need special
approval
from
the
Indian
Government. This was easily fixed by
Page 40
a visit to the Indian customs post and
an appropriate donation to get a
permit stamp in my passport.
Starting early from Samdrup Jonkhar
we lined up with about 200
Bhutanese registered vehicles in a tea
plantation just over the Indian side.
The usual parade of Indian soldiers
moved up and down the convoy
with clipboards taking down every
conceivable detail of the cars and
occupants. I am sure I answered the
same questions on the same form for
three different people. Alongside the
soldiers was a cast of thousands of
Indian village entrepreneurs selling
boiled eggs, masala tea, curry and
rice and of course the Bhutanese
favourite, betel nut. While the huge
convoy was lined up on the narrow
single lane road, Indian cars and
buses (not subject to restrictions)
roared down the wrong side of the
road, horns blaring, missing cars,
people, cows and goats by inches.
At last we started to move. The
convoy on the move covered about 5
kilometres of road. There was a truck
full of soldiers at the front and
another at the back. About every
5km there were two or three soldiers
at the edge of the road. The rebels
could have stopped a bus, shot
everyone on board and been off into
the bush before the rear troops
arrived. The front troops would have
read about it in the paper the next
morning.
Anyhow after about an hour of what
appeared to be a full-on rally with
everyone tooting and passing we just
sort of drifted into a drive through the
countryside at our own pace. I never
did see the front troops and there
was no hand-off or identifiable
release point. We stopped for a cup
of tea still well inside Assam and in
the half hour that we were there the
racing Bhutanese cars finally petered
out and the road went back to its
sleepy Indian village existence.
Never saw the rear troops either.
It took 5 hours to reach
Phuentsholing driving down the
Brahmaputra River valley compared
with 3 days via the hills!
My main motivation for pushing the
Nervous Nellys at the UN country
office for permission for the Indian
route (I suspect they only approved
because they thought I could not get
an Indian permit) was to get back
before Bev arrived from Australia.
She was only going to be in Bhutan
for 10 days and I did not want her
hanging around the hotel in
Phuentsholing while I was stuffing
around in the mountains driving
back.
The week before this big trip I
endeared myself to the management
with my unbounded thirst for work
and set up another field trip leaving
Phuentsholing on Xmas day to stock
take all the small school stores in the
beautiful tourist valleys of Wangdi,
Punarkha and Pobjika. There was the
usual hand wringing by the UN over
my desire to drive my own car and I
had to sign all sorts of statements
saying I would not sue them if I got
airborne off an icy cliff along the
way.
The permanently employed UN, is
composed mainly of people of
academic background – predominantly women – with no practical
skills that I have been able to identify
in two jobs working for them. They
have an illusion that it is much safer
having local drivers “who know the
conditions”. Having driven with
these locally recruited, first
generation, drivers in numerous
countries, giving them a shiny new
Landcruiser says much more about
the UN’s knowledge of driving than
the people behind the wheel.
Anyhow I hired a motorized roller
skate in Phuentsholing which the UN
agreed to fund at the standard
mileage rate. It was a Maruti Suzuki,
made in India under licence. I went
to check the oil and after a short
search in the engine bay saw what
appeared to be a watch mechanism
that proved to be the three cylinder
motor. The 800cc’s put out slightly
less horsepower than my lawnmower. It was a good thing first gear
was very low or we would not have
made it over the 12,500 foot high
pass during the trip.
On Xmas morning Bev and I set off
on the 170km, 6 hour drive, to the
capital Thimpu. Next day we
collected Tshering Sumdrup, a young
fellow who was on holiday from
University doing a 3 month
“Internship” (work experience) with
WFP. I don’t know if they suddenly
gained confidence in my driving or
thought an intern was expendable
but we set off with a big list of
schools to check upon. Of course all
hotels were prebooked by WFP and,
as the mighty midget struggled up the
hill with three of us on board every
night, it was with great delight we
discovered the best tourist hotels in
Bhutan awaiting us.
Not to bore people with repetition I
will forego the descriptions of the
spectacular mountains, cliff-hanging
roads, waterfalls and rushing rivers.
Bev had a great time clicking away
and the various types of monkeys
stood in gangs at the edge of the road
to be duly photographed. One mob
even had to be shifted as they
insisted on blocking the path as they
licked the salt from the bitumen. It
was spread to melt ice on a particularly nasty bit of road.
We had one great night at Pobjikha
where a wide marshy valley is winter
home to the black-necked cranes
from Tibet. The rough track was
almost the death of our little car but
the new hotel (needing four wheel
drive to get up to the front door) was
spectacular. Our rooms were huge
with a burning fireplace in each.
There were only two other guests.
Bev was overjoyed when they issued
each person a rubber boiling hot
water bottle to take to bed with us as
we left the dinner table. I haven’t
seen one of these since I was 5 years
old.
Bev and I walked to the Education
Centre to look through telescopes at
the flocks of cranes. The university
student counting the birds, said
about 350 were in the valley. We felt
a bit guilty as the hotel dog, a fine
friendly fellow, had decided to come
on our 2km walk to look at the
cranes but, unknowingly, we took
him into the territory of the local
canine Hell’s Angels. I am sad to say
he was thoroughly done over and
was last seen disappearing at high
speed with the gang after him. He
did survive, as I met him again next
morning curled up on the mat in
front of the hotel door seemingly
none the worse for his drubbing or
spending the night in -10 degrees
temperature.
After a very interesting week during
which we went from snowy passes
down to full tropical jungle and saw
numerous Buddhist temples,
interesting villages (and counted
hundreds of sacks of food in various
school stores) and winding mountain
tracks, Bev and I dropped Tshering
off in Thimpu and returned to
Phuentsholing.
New Years day once more saw us on
the road as we headed into India to
take Bev the 150km to Siliguri for her
flight from Bagdogra airport to
Calcutta and home. She was very
taken with the 30 seat buses and
their 70 passengers hanging off the
rear bumper and on the roof racks.
After a ride in the Indian version of a
Bangkok TUK TUK and another in
the pedal rickshaws we had a
delightful final evening at the hotel
with workmen pounding on our wall
until 10.30 at night.
I dropped Bev at the airport then
drove back to Bhutan in the mighty
midget ready for the last 6 weeks
before completion of my sentence.
...
This Bugle is based on my most
interesting trip so far on this job.
There are two areas in the east of
Bhutan which are so remote that the
reasonably large stores and the
schools they serve have not been
visited by either the Bhutan Food
Corporation (BFC) or the UNWFP for
over two years. After a bit of pressure
I goaded the WFP into trying to get a
permit for me to visit and of course
the ‘very difficult’ turned out to be
very easy.
Learning from my previous mistakes,
I organized an Indian registered Jeep
and driver and, along with an FCB
staff member and a Bhutanese WFP
Logistics fellow, set out for our first
port of call, Nganglam. The road
leading from the main east-west
Brahmaputra Valley highway heads
due north into the Bhutanese
mountains. It was only 50km from
the highway to Nganglam but it took
us 4 hours. With nothing more than a
rocky track winding its way through
the jungle we did not get out of
second gear for most of the way.
About 7km of the track is along a
stony riverbed which, when flooded
in the wet season, cuts Nganglam off
from the world for 6 months of the
year. The Indian trucks bringing in
the food during the distribution take
two days to do the 100km round trip.
No Australian truck owner would
allow his vehicles on this track.
The highlight of my whole time in
Bhutan occurred about an hour into
the journey. As we pitched and
rocked at walking pace over the
rocks we rounded a bend, and there,
not 100 metres away was a large
Bengal Tiger. He was idley padding
down the track as we stopped. The
Tiger continued towards us until he
was 30 metres away and, without
any recognition of our presence,
angled off to the left and faded into
the jungle. Best animal sighting I
have ever had!
At last we climbed into a narrow
valley and arrived at the original
Shangri-la. This mediaeval village is
straight out of “Lost World” (without
the singing). The town is jammed
between jungle-clad hills but, unlike
the Swiss Chalet appearance of much
of Bhutan, every building here was
unpainted wood. The people wore a
different tribal dress and our vehicle
was the only one in town. I created
Page 41
quite a spectacle as it was 18 months
since a westerner had been in the
area.
Winding down the steep slopes
surrounding the little town, strings of
pack horses and mules could be seen
descending through the jungle. The
only flat bit of ground, serving as
village green, football field and town
meeting place, also was the pasture
for the mule trains coming from the
mountains. All around the small field
the horsemen had set up temporary
woven cane huts in which to sleep
while the two hundred odd horses,
donkeys and mules were unloaded of
their big baskets of mandarins and
spices to be set free to graze.
I was very glad of my good sleeping
bag that night for the icy winds
sliding down from the mountains
made it mighty cold on the floor of
the cane hut in which we were
accommodated. The FCB store man,
who lives a lonely existence by
himself, made a great effort to cook
us a nice lentil (almost certainly
pilfered WFP lentils) curry with rice.
He also produced a bottle of
surprisingly good Bhutanese whiskey
to warm us by candlelight.
Next morning we went to his very
well kept store to check his stocks
and see the condition of the building.
Having nothing else to do, he had
arranged all the bags of food in the
most perfectly stacked manner. They
had a bird problem which had been
cunningly solved by having a
sparrow-hawk (found dead and
certainly not killed by the Bhutanese)
stuffed in a wings outspread flying
position suspended by a string in the
middle of the warehouse.
They also had a serious rat problem.
I counted 6 rat cages around the
warehouse (these are wire cages
about the size of a shoe-box which
catch the rats, without harming them,
for subsequent relocation. The
storeman flatly refused to use poison
or conventional traps). When I asked
why none of the traps had bait in
them there was a ten minute
Page 42
discussion between the assistant
storeman, who spoke perfect English
and the storeman who spoke none.
Even with not a single word of
Bhutanese, I could see there was
considerable prevarication and
ducking and weaving going on.
I asked the WFP man to intervene
and he eventually got to the bottom
of the story. As a very devout
Buddhist, the storeman thought it
was unconscionable to trick the rats
into the cages. If you deliberately
start lying, even to a rat, your whole
life becomes a lie and you will never
reach enlightenment.
I thought about the problem for a
moment and asked the assistant
storeman to put the following
proposition to his boss. What if we
had tiny little signs printed – in
Bhutanese and Hindi because, being
so close to the border, we could not
be sure of the rats’ nationality – and
fixed on the front of each cage.
“DANGER. ENTER AT YOUR OWN
RISK” Place the bait in the cages and
the rats, in full knowledge of their
actions, could make their own
decision to enter or not. The
storeman’s conscience would be
clear.
As the assistant storeman earnestly
tried to explain the cunning plan to
his boss, the blank face and glazed
eyes told me he was stunned by this
stroke of brilliance from an expert
brought across the world at great
expense to the UN. Then again,
perhaps he thought I was a complete
cretin. Whatever his thoughts, as the
2IC continued earnestly with hand
waving and pointing to the
appropriate place for the signs on the
traps I was taken with a fit of the
giggles which recurred from time to
time for the next 2 hours.
Retreating on another 4 hour rock’n
roll trip back to the highway we only
saw monkeys and a couple of deer. It
was now time to go as far from the
capital as possible. On our way to
Daifam we had to travel east through
Assam then swing north into India’s
most remote state of Arunachal
Pradesh before re-entering Bhutan.
The further east we got, the more
impoverished became the Indian
villages. Many had no shops at all,
only local farmers sitting crosslegged in the dirt with a small pile of
vegetables or some fish plucked out
of rice paddy waterholes. The shanty
woven cane housing was abysmal
and the stench was a mix of curry
and excreta. A cup of tea for the four
of us at a roadside “café” cost 20
cents. Curry and rice lunch for four
cost 80 cents.
My arrival in Daifam caused more
interest as I was the first westerner
that the FCB storekeeper’s 12 year
old daughter had met.
There was a problem in Daifam as
one of the schools had not collected
all the food from the last distribution
and there were about 3 tons of bags
still in the FCB store. The
storekeeper’s daughter (who spoke
perfect English) went to that school
and told us the 350 boarding kids
lived on rice gruel two meals a day
for the whole past term. I wonder if
“Oliver Twist” was on the school
curriculum? The Daifam store still
contained the tinned fish, flour,
sugar, lentils and oil designed by the
UN to give the kids a balanced diet.
It seemed the problem was that the
porters did not want to go to this
school (9 hours walk away) as they
could get more money carting for
other government departments such
as Forestry. The track was too steep
for the mule trains which served the
other schools in the district. I could
not understand the problem as the
government rate for this distance for
a porter carrying 30kg was 150
rupees ($4) for the two day round trip
but they claimed they were only
offered 100 rupees. Nothing for it but
a personal visit. Steep hills, night on
the ground thinking about tigers,
great reception by the headmaster
who was rewarded with preknowledge that the police would be
arriving shortly to take him to jail for
pocketing 50 rupees per load.
Leaving Daifam and crossing back
into India we met a fellow wearing a
washed-out, but neatly pressed,
khaki uniform in the first
impoverished village. He was the
local customs man who asked us to
go to his office. I actually had
noticed this small, overgrown, hut
with a couple of attached rooms on
the way up. It had a sign “Foreigners
Registration Office – All foreigners
must stop and report.” I did not bring
it to the attention of my Bhutanese
companions who would only have
insisted on stopping to obey the
rules, losing us another hour.
The customs man had me sit down at
his desk (the Bhutanese did not have
to register) while his wife brought me
some tea. He reached up and
retrieved from the shelf a large
leather-bound ledger issued by the
British in 1863. It was falling apart at
the seams but was treated with
reverence. He opened the huge tome
and I saw at the top of a blank page,
written in perfect copperplate writing
(could it have been with a quill?)
“Register of Foreigners for 2002”. He
turned the leaf to another blank page
perfectly titled “Register of Foreigners
2003”. 2004 – blank, 2005 – blank.
I can see him now, his whole
mission in life is to represent the
Indian Government keeping track of
almost non-existent foreigners in his
district. At exactly 9.00am on
January the first each year he arrives
in the office to inscribe the page for
the New Year. Each day for the next
365 days he arrives at the office at
exactly 9.00am and sits, pen poised,
ready to record any wandering
foreigners passing his domain. The
rapturous joy on his face and the
bursting pride of his wife was
something to behold as he took 15
minutes to record, in perfect copperplate writing – the details from my
passport. I swear there were tears in
his eyes as he gripped my hand in
fond farewell. I had a warm fuzzy
feeling for an hour after our
departure.
Departing Samdrup Jankhar via India
on this trip was much easier than
previously as we were in an Indian
registered car. We went through the
gate and passed the huge lineup of
Bhutanese cars waiting for the
military escorted convoy start.
After about 4 hours driving we were
told there was a “strike” on the 50
kilometre road that leads from the
main highway, north to the
Bhutanese border at our destination
Phuentsholing. Traffic was being
stopped for the day until 6.00pm by
disgruntled villagers demanding the
government honour its 10 year old
promise to fix the road. There were
three small towns each with
roadblocks effectively cutting off
traffic between the two countries.
As we approached the first village
there was a line-up of about two
hundred trucks and cars. I had the
driver pass along the line to the front
of the queue where we saw a great
pile of tables and chairs across the
road. There were numerous red,
hammer and sickle flags to be seen.
The crowd was as one would expect
at any political rally or union stopwork meeting in Australia or
elsewhere. A few loudmouths
strutted out front and the brainless
rabble made lots of noise in the rear.
I decided to play the UN card and
got a very friendly reception when I
explained that the Secretary General
was taking an intense interest in their
road widening program and in fact
was considering the idea of bringing
his own wheelbarrow to India and
undertaking the task personally. They
opened the barriers and let us
through.
The reception at the second town
was very aggressive as we drove
along the line to the front of the
queue. The ringleader was denying
our passage in a mixture of English
and Hindi in a loud voice for the
benefit of his disciples. The disciples
reminded me of the poem The Man
From Ironbark:
Their eyes were dull,
their heads were flat,
they had no brains at all.
It was obvious that the previously
successful gentle approach would
not work here. Loud enough for the
disciples to hear I let it be known
that one phone call from me and the
UN Security Council would cease
discussing North Korea, Iraq and the
Gaza Strip. Within 48 hours a full
division of the UN ready response
force, comprising of crack troops
from Monaco, Tasmania and the
Galapagos Islands would be floating
down onto Hasimara to teach them a
lesson they would never forget – or
words to that effect.
There appeared to be some doubt as
to the veracity of my statements. I
may be wrong but I think haramkhor
means bullshit in Hindi. Faint heart
never won fair lady so I moved close
to the ringleader and stood arms
folded, legs apart, staring him in the
eye. He blinked first and they let us
through.
The third town was only 7km south
of the Bhutan border and the
Bhutanese WFP Logistic officer with
me, overcoming his stated
premonition of being beaten to death
and emboldened by our previous
success, said he knew some of the
rabble in this crowd and would get
us through the last hurdle himself. As
he diverged from the usual
obsequious Bhutanese manner and
became authoritative I thought he
overplayed his hand somewhat.
In an uncharacteristic loud voice he
demanded this important UN
Delegation be allowed to pass. If we
were detained, the entire Bhutanese
Army of three would sweep across
the border and push the whole
Indian population of one billion into
the sea. It worked a treat. Not only
did they remove the barriers to let us
go but they let all the other vehicles
pass as well – when they all went
home for dinner only 4 hours later!
There were some gilded youths,
that sat along the barber’s wall,
Page 43
Profile in Courage:
D Company 6th Battalion,
Royal Australian Regiment
“Long Tan”
18th August 1966
By Lieutenant Colonel Alistair Pope, psc (Retired) & David Sabben, MID
THE BATTLE OF LONG TAN
Phuoc Tuy Province, South Vietnam, 18th August 1966
Introduction
In what was then the Republic of South Vietnam, on 18th
August 1966, at Long Tan in Phuoc Tuy Province, Australian
soldiers fought their most significant battle of the Vietnam
War. Arguably, the battles of Binh Ba and Fire Support Bases
Coral and Balmoral were larger, but no battle compares to
Long Tan and its effects. In the World Wars Australia had lost
thousands of soldiers in a day, yet the country remained
doggedly behind the government and the respective war
efforts. However, Vietnam was different as it involved the use
of non-volunteer conscripted soldiers for the first time.
Already the seeds of dissent over their deployment to an
undeclared war were becoming an issue in Australian society.
A major tactical defeat at Long Tan with, most likely, the
annihilation of a complete Australian infantry company and
the possible overrunning of the base itself could have had
incalculable political consequences for the Australian Army,
Page 44
the Government and the Australian commitment to the
Vietnam War.
Prelude
Estimates of enemy strengths operating in Phuoc Tuy
Province varied from 300 to 3,500. However, the most recent
patrols had only fleeting contacts with 3-6 man groups. There
appeared to be little evidence to substantiate reports of three
enemy regiments based somewhere to the north-east of the
province.
Two months earlier, two Australian infantry battalions, the
5th & 6th Battalions, Royal Australian Regiment (5RAR &
6RAR) plus supporting arms had established themselves at
the 1st Australian Task Force (ATF) base around the rocky
outcrop of Nui Dat. This was to be a strong operational base
from which the Task Force could dominate the surrounding
country. The base was vulnerable as the defences were far
from complete. The time available to build them was limited
because the Task Force had immediately engaged in an active
and aggressive patrolling program.
Early on the morning of the 17th August Nui Dat had been
shelled with around sixty mortars and rocket’s slamming
randomly into the base. At the time of this attack 5RAR was
patrolling to the north and A Coy, 6RAR was also away from
Nui Dat and operating to the north-east. A Coy had been in
three small contacts, killing 2 Viet Cong (“VC”) and
capturing one. Once again, nothing of substance had come to
light to indicate a large force was in the vicinity. B Coy,
6RAR spent the day of the 17th August sweeping the area to
the east-north east and east of Nui Dat and found the mortar
and RCL baseplate positions. Meanwhile A Coy had several
sightings of small groups of enemy to the north east, but still
nothing to suggest a larger force.
In retrospect, the intelligence picture should have been much
clearer given the evidence available as earlier intelligence
reports had still not ruled out the threat of 274 and 275 NVA
Regiments, plus D445 VC Battalion, mounting an attack on
the 1st ATF base. This option was considered unlikely,
although not impossible. As a precaution 5RAR was ordered
to return to Nui Dat.
On 18th August, D Coy, 6RAR under Major Harry Smith,
was ordered to relieve the B Coy patrol. Thus 108 officers and
soldiers of D Company, 6RAR moved out on “Operation
Vendetta” to follow up the tracks leading away from the
baseplate positions used for the attack. The men of D Coy did
not anticipate any action as they expected that the enemy
would have adopted their usual tactic of ‘shoot n’ scoot’ and
would be long gone.
The Battle
At 11.00 hrs D Coy left the ATF base and began their patrol
eastwards with a combat strength of 105 Australians and 3
New Zealanders. Meanwhile A Coy was continuing their
patrol back to the ATF base.
At noon the B Coy patrol followed the enemy trail to the
south and found another baseplate position with signs of at
least two wounded VC, presumably as a result of the artillery
counter bombardment fire. The men of D Coy met up with B
Coy at 13.00 hrs. The two company commanders exchanged
notes about the enemy positions before B Coy set out to return
to Nui Dat. Major Smith decided to follow the trail to the east
and D Coy began its search along the track running east into
the Long Tan rubber plantation. The trail soon divided into
two tracks that ran about 300 meters apart but roughly parallel
to each other. Major Smith adjusted his company patrol
formation to suit. He placed 10 Platoon (Pl) commanded by
Second Lieutenant (2Lt) Geoff Kendall as the forward left, 11
Pl commanded by 2Lt Gordon Sharp on the high ground to
the forward right and 12 Pl commanded by 2Lt David Sabben
to the centre rear behind Company Headquarters (CHQ).
At 15.40 hrs a group of six VC literally walked into 11 Pl.
They were fired at and subsequently withdrew, taking one
dead and two wounded with them. 11 Pl reported the contact
to CHQ and stated that the enemy was dressed in khaki
uniforms. This intelligence went unnoticed by all concerned
but it indicated that the enemy was probably Main Force
soldiers and not the anticipated village guerrillas. The Pl
commander of 11 Pl, 2Lt Sharp called in artillery fire on the
enemy withdrawal route about 500 meters forward from the
original contact. 11 Pl then followed up the enemy and chased
them to a small hut, where a Pl attack was conducted to
ensure the hut was free of enemy. No one was found, despite
extensive bloodstains. 11 Pl then continued advancing further
into the rubber plantation. The soldiers were now fully alert as
they moved east-south east, following a fence on their right
flank, towards a small clearing in the rubber.
By 16.08 hrs, 11 Pl had reached the near side of this clearing,
when heavy small arms fire opened up on their left flank. The
platoon went to ground and began to return fire. There was a
pause in the fire and 5 Section (Sect) was moved around to
bring fire onto the enemy position. No sooner had 5 Sect
begun to carry out this task when the heavy fire commenced
again. This time the fire appeared to be more deliberate and
intense than on the first occasion. 2Lt Sharp reported a
platoon size enemy to his direct front, changing this to a
company size enemy in the ensuing minutes. At this time, 60
mm mortars began to fall near the position of CHQ, 10 Pl and
12 Pl. They had struck a major force, but just how large was
not yet clear. Major Smith moved CHQ, 10 Pl and 12 Pl to the
north of the mortar blasts into an area which was to become
the company’s final defensive position. 11 Pl was ordered to
withdraw as the artillery from the task force began to fall,
with missions of 10 rounds ‘Fire-for-Effect’ (FFE) and
repeats being called. The Battle of Long Tan had begun in a
rubber plantation some 4,500 metres to the east of the Task
Force base at Nui Dat.
Meanwhile A Coy had just returned to Nui Dat, and were
warned to be prepared for movement on 15 minutes notice.
The continual thumping of the gun line told everyone at the
base that somebody was in a lot of trouble. B Coy was halted
on its return to base but not told to move back to the D Coy
location. Ten APCs from 1st APC Sqn were also placed on 15
minutes notice to move A Coy out to the rubber plantation.
At Long Tan the situation was deteriorating. 11 Pl were being
outflanked, suffering heavy casualties and unable to
withdraw. 2Lt Sharp was killed and Sergeant (Sgt) Bob Buick
took command. 10 Pl were ordered to move around from the
north to give support to allow 11 Pl to withdraw. A mass of
fire started in the 10 Pl location and all radio communications
between 10, 11 and CHQ were lost. The second signaller from
CHQ dashed forward and communications with 10 Pl were
soon restored. Artillery fire engaged targets to the south and
helped to suppress the fire of an enemy mortar position to the
east. Casualties were mounting in 10 Pl, but they still
managed to advance to within 100 meters of 11 Pl before
being halted by intense small arms fire. 2Lt Kendall and his
Platoon were then ordered to withdraw to the CHQ position
due to the large numbers of casualties the Pl had received.
At the same time, 12 Pl was sent out to approach 11 Pl from
the west. As they left CHQ, Major Smith was advised that 10
Page 45
Pl was withdrawing with its casualties, so Smith retained one
of the 12 Pl sections to reinforce CHQ's defence. As 10 Pl
arrived in the company location a Company Aid Post (CAP)
was established, and CHQ, 10 Pl and the 12 Pl Section were
placed on the ground to provide protection for the casualties.
12 Pl reached a position about 200 metres behind 11 Pl and
came under heavy fire and were subsequently attacked from
their north east and south east. With the attacks continuing on
11 Pl; CHQ and 10 Pl were now also being subjected to
attacks from the east by enemy who were following up 10 Pl's
withdrawal. Major Smith called for an air strike at 17.02 hrs
and would accept napalm to within 100 metres of the troop’s
position. At the same time an ammunition resupply by
helicopter was called for as stocks of ammunition was
critically low.
The time was now 17.10 hrs and D Coy reported "Enemy now
200m to our direct front, 42 (the radio callsign for 11 Pl – 11
having replaced their radio aerial and restored communications) being attacked from north, east and south, 43 (the
radio callsign for 12 Pl) pinned down attempting to reach
them." The artillery continued with rounds now falling
dangerously close to the friendly locations. The success this
had on preventing the enemy from overrunning the position
was immeasurable. At 17.20 hrs, artillery began firing
regimental scale missions as ordered by the Forward Observer
(FO), Captain Morrie Stanley. The expenditure of artillery
ammunition also became a concern, and additional supplies
were ordered from the Logistic Support Group at Vung Tau.
Soon, a flight of Chinook helicopters was delivering palletloads of shells directly into the artillery gun sites, despite the
near-impossible flying conditions as the monsoon struck and
heavy rain and low cloud reduced visibility to below the
minimum for flying.
D Coy reported that all Pls and CHQ were now under constant
attack from the east and south. Artillery fire was brought to
within 100m of the 11 Pl position. The strike aircraft
requested earlier reported they were unable to give close
support to the now desperate D Coy due to the cloud cover
and torrential rain. Their visibility was reduced to nil, so the
aircraft randomly dropped their ordnance on suspected
positions to the north east.
At the ATF base, 5RAR took over the defence of the
perimeter. Two "Huey" helicopters from 9th Sqn, Royal
Australian Air Force (“RAAF”) had been tasked to fly the
ammunition resupply out to D Coy. The 6RAR Regimental
Sergeant Major (“RSM”), WO1 George Chinn, organized the
ammunition resupply on to the helicopters, and at 18.00 hrs
the artillery ceased fire for 15 minutes to allow the helicopter
resupply to get to D Coy. Again, the dreadful flying
conditions were overcome, and with the aid of a coloured
smoke grenade the critical resupply of ammunition was
successful, literally falling into the hands of the Company
Sergeant Major (CSM), who quickly organized its distribution.
By this time, 2Lt Sabben's 12 Pl had sustained six casualties
Page 46
out of its 20-man strength in keeping the 11 Pl escape route
open. Another colored smoke grenade thrown by 12 Pl
allowed the remainder of 11 Pl to finally withdraw to the 12
Pl position. After fighting off several more assaults, the
combined 11 Pl and 12 Pl group withdrew the 300 metres to
the company position.
Concurrently, the 10 vehicles of 3Tp from the APC Sqn, with
A Coy 6RAR on board were moving at best speed towards the
D Coy location. The going in the late afternoon torrential
downpour was very slow and the move was not without its
problems. Their departure from the ATF base had been
delayed by the Task Force Commander for over an hour as he
feared that D Coy had hit a decoy and the real enemy force
was massing to assault the west side of the base).
Furthermore, a crossing of the flooded Suoi Da Bang River
had yet to be negotiated. However, none of their problems
quite matched the ongoing survival problems of D Coy at this
point. Light was fading, as was the Coy's dwindling stock of
ammunition. It seemed impossible for D Coy to hold on for
much longer.
At about this time, B Coy was also ordered to return to the D
Coy position.
The enemy continued to attack from the east, north east and
south east as D Coy was finally regrouped into a single
command position. At 18.20 hrs Major Smith reported that the
enemy could be reorganizing for another attack as they had
temporarily broken contact. He stated that he had two Pls
about 75% effective and one Pl virtually non-effective. The
company had hastily reorganized into all-round defence and
the ammunition resupply was distributed, just as the enemy
launched another series of massive wave-style attacks on the
company front. These attacks lasted until it was noticeable
that it was approaching last light.
By now A Coy 6RAR and 3 Tp were about 800m away and
struggling to get to D Coy. As they got closer they began to
take fire, and reported that they had contacted possibly three
enemy companies who withdrew after being fired upon by the
APCs machine guns. B Coy, moving on foot, were also now
closing up behind D Coy. The Commanding Officer (CO) of 6
RAR, Lt Colonel (LtCol) Townsend and battalion
Headquarters, aboard three of the original ten APCs, having
recalled them from the water crossing to pick them up. This
left Lt Roberts with only seven vehicles to move to the relief
of D Coy. Roberts sent another one back with casualties
aboard so that when they joined again nine APC’s with A Coy
and Battalion HQ’s relieved D Coy.
As the last of the massed enemy assaults faded, B Coy arrived
in D Coy's position and were used to cover the approach from
the west. It was just on dark. The artillery was stopped to
allow the APCs to approach the company position, and in the
silence, the D Coy survivors could hear the APCs
approaching. The battle was over.
On their arrival, 3Tp and A Coy moved across D Coy's front,
firing the .50 cal MG’s of the APCs as a precaution. The
6RAR CO, who had arrived with A Coy, then took control of
the aftermath. A Coy formed a screen to the east while D Coy
took care of their dead and wounded. A casualty evacuation
was organized in a clearing some 750m to the west, with the
APCs forming a hollow square using their internal lights with
top hatches open to guide the incoming helicopters.
The following morning, despite the constant threat of further
attacks, battlefield clearance commenced. D Coy was again
sent out first for this task. It had been their battle, their
casualties and the battlefield was now theirs.
The Enemy
The enemy was found to have been the 275 NVA Regt and
D445 VC Provincial Battalion plus one other NVA battalion
in support. The original contact was believed to be with a
standing patrol or screening force. The enemy constantly tried
to envelope the Australians, from the northern and southern
flanks. The dispersion and movement of D Coy and all three
platoons deceived the enemy as to the size of the force they
had contacted. Also, the large amount of fire support available
to a single infantry company aided in this impression.
Lessons Learnt
Why did this unit succeed and survive in these circumstances
and against the odds? Six reasons are apparent:
1. Superb training at individual and sub-unit level.
2. Unit cohesion. The units functioned superbly and never
broke. They continued to function as a fighting unit and the
casualties were all found at their posts
3. The enormous artillery fire support dedicated to them as
long as they needed it.
4. Leadership. Without good leaders D Company would be a
very different footnote in the history books.
5. Maneuver. All the platoons moved during the battle,
frustrating enemy flanking and enveloping tactics and giving
the impression of a much larger force.
6. Defence. All subunits enjoyed the advantages of defending,
leaving the high risk and high casualty actions to the attacking
enemy.
Aftermath
The enemy was well equipped and was almost certainly
prepared for a major assault on the 1st ATF base rather than a
contact out in the field. Most of the enemy soldiers carried
ammunition for crew-served weapons which were not in
evidence on the battlefield in addition to their personal AK or
SKS rifle with up to 250 rounds of ammunition. Furthermore,
most were found to have 2 or 3 grenades on them, with some
Grenadiers carrying satchels of 15 to 20 grenades. These were
not used during the battle. The individual soldier was not
camouflaged, yet had netting or frames on which to hang
camouflage. His drills and discipline were of a high standard.
He was apparently well fed and his clothing and equipment
were in good order. Most Australians were surprised at the
personal proficiency and battle discipline of their counterpart.
Statistics & Casualties
The Vietnamese probably committed between 2,000 & 3,000
soldiers to the battle. Probably 20% were killed as 245 bodies
were found on the battlefield, yet only three wounded were
captured by the Australians due to their efficiency in
removing the dead and wounded. Subsequent intelligence
analysis concluded that a further 150 had probably been killed
as many graves were found in the area by later patrols.
Verification of the figures came from a captured diary which
stated 800 killed and this was confirmed three years later in
1969, during Op Marsden when 6RAR on its second tour
went into the Nui May Tao Mountains and captured a
regimental base and hospital complex. The meticulous records
confirmed that 800 had been killed. Statistically another 2,000
were possibly wounded. Enemy casualties could have been
3,000!
D Coy suffered 17 killed in action and 21 wounded with
another one killed from 3 Tp, 1st APC Sqn and an additional
three wounded from 6RAR.
Incredibly, only four bravery awards were made (and some of
these were downgraded by Army Office to lower categories).
D Coy did accept the US ‘Presidential Unit Citation’, but
were ordered not to accept any Vietnamese awards! Their true
recognition is that the Australian Vietnam Veteran’s day is the
date of the battle and is called Long Tan Day.
Bibliography
The Battle of Long Tan: the Legend of ANZAC Upheld –
Lex McAuley, Published by Hutchison, 1986, ISBN 0 09
157180 4
The Battle of Long Tan as told by the Commanders to Bob
Grandin – Edited by Bob Grandin, Harry Smith, Geoff
Kendall, Bob Buick, Dave Sabben, Morrie Stanley & Adrian
Roberts. Published by Allen & Unwin, Copyright 2004,
ISBN 1 74114 199 0
Unpublished Notes and Presentation by David Sabben
Author’s Profile
Alistair Pope retired from the Australian Army in 1986 as a
Lieutenant Colonel. He retains a keen interest in current
military matters and military history. He graduated as an
officer from 1st Officer Training Unit, Scheyville in 1967 and
served in various postings in Australia, Vietnam, Indonesia
and Papua New Guinea. He is a frequent contributor of book
reviews, short stories and the occasional article to several
journals. He is self-employed as an accredited PRINCE2
Trainer and works internationally as a project management
consultant.
Page 47
Long Tan and
Beyond
This book by Lt Col Charles Mollison was published in
2005.
Available in hardcover ($44) or soft cover ($33) from
Cobb’s Crossing Publications, PO Box 82, Woombye,
Qld 4559. Phone (07) 5442 1589 or Email
[email protected]
The following review is by John Neervoort (2/67),
followed by the book’s Introduction.
Commander. The perspective from that level is missing from
so many other accounts of Australian involvement in the
Vietnam War, most of which are either by individuals at
platoon level or by others not closely involved and relying on
interviews with the participants.
This 430 page book with more than 100 photos
and illustrations, many in colour, is printed on
premium glossy paper. The extra $11 for the hard
cover version is highly recommended as it is a
well crafted book.
Upon graduation from OTU in October 1967, I
was posted to 6RAR in Townsville where I met
Charles Mollison, at that stage the Adjutant. Most
of the first tour officers had either been posted out
of the Battalion or were in the process of doing
so. I was one of the first subalterns to join 6RAR
for its second tour of duty. As an under strength
battalion in transition, we were called upon to act
as enemy for various other units undertaking their
final training before Vietnam. On at least two
occasions, I commanded a composite platoon
and had Sgt Bob Buick MM as my Platoon
Sergeant each time. Bob Buick was the Platoon
Sergeant of Gordon Sharpe’s 11 Platoon, D
Company at the Battle of Long Tan. As my first
Platoon Sergeant after graduation, he played an
important role in my development as a Platoon
Commander. He also fired my interest in the
Battle of Long Tan.
As a 6RAR soldier, I have always been aware of
the controversy surrounding the battle. I have no
wish to take sides. I wasn’t there. I have the
highest admiration for all those involved. Having
read books on the battle by Lex McAulay, Terry
Burstall and Bob Buick, it was refreshing to read
one of the few books written by a Company
Page 48
I was prompted to write this review after reading the statement
by Bob Buick that “We carried 600 rounds per machine-gun
and 60 rounds per rifle” in the review of The Battle of Long
Tan by Bob Grandin (The Scheyvillian, No 1, 2005). This
clashed with the 6RAR Battalion SOPs stating 110 rounds per
rifle were to be carried.(fig 10.4, page 117, Long Tan and
Beyond). Low ammunition was a crucial factor during the
battle and was the reason Flt Lt Bob Grandin became involved
during the RAAF resupply. Charles Mollison’s attention to
detail sets this well crafted book apart from others on the
battle. The inclusion of Official After Action Reports in the
Appendix adds to the completeness.
However, this book is more than the Battle of Long Tan. It is a
full account of Alpha Company from its inception, training for
Vietnam and its tour of duty. The historical context is well
covered at the beginning of the book. The difficulties of
establishing the 1ATF base from scratch, something not fully
appreciated by later units who took the amenities for granted.
The passion the author had for “his” company, which he had
commanded from inception and for some of its time in
Vietnam. Throughout this time he held the rank of Captain with
his Company Sergeant Major in effect his 2IC. At the end of
the book he deals with the aftermath of the war. The poor
recognition of acts of bravery by the military, the rejection by
the country of the soldiers that fought the war and some
extraordinary stories of some of the characters post Vietnam.
Amazingly, Alpha Company lost only one man KIA during its
tour.
I recommend this book as mandatory reading along with
books by other authors on The Battle of Long Tan to provide
balance and completeness in understanding this pivotal battle.
Buy this book on a Friday before a rainy weekend, as once
started it is difficult to put down. The Introduction that follows
gives the feel of the book’s style.
Introduction by Lt Col Charles S Mollison
It was 18th August 1966. Desperate calls for assistance crackled over the radio loudspeakers. Delta Company was in big
trouble. Engaged in a follow-up of an enemy assault on the Australian Base with mortars and rockets, Delta Company had
contacted a small enemy patrol. This action soon escalated into a fierce battle as I listened to the radio traffic with the
Commanding Officer 6 RAR, Lieutenant Colonel Colin Townsend who had summoned me to his tent at about 4.20 PM.
‘I might have to send Alpha Company out again to assist Delta Company’, the CO informed me.
Alpha Company had only just returned to Base after a strenuous but very successful three-day patrol. Our cooks had prepared a
slap-up, buffet meal to celebrate our success and my soldiers were looking forward to that as they cleaned weapons, showered
and replenished ammunition expended on the patrol.
Over the radio, Major Harry Smith, the officer commanding Delta Company reported he was being bombarded with enemy
mortar fire and that he now estimated he was up against an enemy company.
The Commanding Officer was on the phone requesting that sufficient Armoured Personnel Carriers (APC) be positioned in
Alpha Company lines to transport us to the battlefield if this proved necessary. I then used the CO’s phone to send a “Warning
Order” to my Company Sergeant Major, WO 2 Jack Roughley.
‘Ten minutes notice to move out in APCs to counter attack a large enemy force in the Long Tan rubber plantation. Normal first
line scale of ammunition on the man and two first-line-scales to be loaded into the APCs when they arrive. Two days combat
rations on the man. Get the cooks to serve the evening meal as soon as possible.’
Suddenly, all transmissions on the Battalion command net were blanked out. Loud oriental music blared from the speakers on
the CO’s radio. The enemy was “jamming” the Battalion Command net! There would be no more conversations with Delta
Company on that frequency. This was getting very serious. Delta Company could be out-numbered by 20 or 30 to one.
Communications were restored but the next transmission from the Officer Commanding Delta Company was ominous, ‘If we
don’t get help soon there will be no point in sending them.’
The Commanding Officer was again on the phone to Commander 1st Australian Task Force. Then he hung up the field
telephone, turned to me and, shouting to make himself heard above the noise of thirty artillery pieces sending countless shells
screaming overhead, told me to get going. He had finally obtained clearance from the Task Force Headquarters for Alpha
Company to deploy.
The Alpha Company soldiers had just started moving to the cookhouse. They surveyed the magnificent buffet laid out before
them with amazement. But before they could get stuck into it, the Company Sergeant Major was yelling at them to mount the
waiting Armoured Personnel Carriers.
As I ran the 500 metres from the Battalion HQ to Alpha Company HQ, my mind raced with thoughts of the orders I must give
and the things I had to check. Delta Company was under siege out in the Long Tan rubber plantation; they were quickly running
out of ammunition and in imminent danger of being overrun by a vastly superior force. We were about to engage in the biggest
Australian battle of the Vietnam War.
I felt no fear but the adrenalin was pumping and I knew I had to present a calm exterior to my subordinates as I headed for my
“Orders Group” assembled by my Company Sergeant Major (CSM), WO 2 Jack Roughley.
We were being asked to rescue Delta Company from being overrun by a vastly superior force. I did not know the exact size of
the enemy force at the time but had no doubt that, without Alpha Company support, Delta Company was doomed. Fortunately, I
had complete confidence in the soldiers of Alpha Company. If it could be done, we could do it.
Except for a few short weeks, I had commanded this Company from the day it was formed just fourteen short months ago, and
we had trained hard to bring every man to a high level of competence. Of even more importance, there was already a strong
bond of comradeship and my soldiers had proved themselves more than adequate to the task in several clashes with the enemy.
It did not occur to me at the time but I was about to put into practice fourteen years of dedicated study of soldiering and warfare.
Starting off in the School Cadets, then in the 1950s National Service scheme and then in the Citizen Military Forces. By 1962
when I took up soldiering as a full time career, I had been trained by and served with some of the best officers and NonCommissioned Officers in the Army. Men like Lieutenant Colonel Cliff Thompson who had been Adjutant of the 2nd / 14th
Battalion on the Kokoda Track; Colonel George Warfe DSO MC of Z Force in Borneo and JTC fame whom I had served as his
Adjutant; Major Kevin Cooke (later to become Major General K G Cooke AO RFD ED); and Warrant Officer Class 1 Jack
Morrison DCM and Bar, MID.
As I arrived in my Company area, I could see my soldiers were ready. The extra ammunition I had ordered was already loaded
into the APCs. My officers, the Armoured Personnel Carrier (APC) Troop Commander and my CSM awaited my orders. I
Page 49
briefed them on the strength of the enemy, the plight Delta Company was in, the extreme need for urgency and the
likelihood that the enemy and our soldiers would be mixed up together. We would need to make positive identification
before opening fire.
I could then give my officers only five minutes to brief their soldiers before we mounted the carriers and trundled out of
our lines. We were thinking of our mates in Delta Company. Could they hold out until we got there?
The commander of the Troop was sitting on a plank across his hatch just inches in front of me but had a set of earphones
clamped over his ears. I tapped him on the shoulder to attract his attention and, over the noise of engines and tracks,
shouted for him to ‘Get a bloody MOVE ON!’ He informed me the Task Force Commander had ordered a maximum
speed of four and one half kilometres per hour on the Base roads. I was still fuming at this inappropriate application of
an administrative order when the column of vehicles stopped altogether.
‘What are we stopping for?’
‘We have to wait for the Engineers to open the gap in their wire.’
‘Bloody Hell!’ I cursed and wondered why this had not been ordered earlier when the route to be taken was decided. As
we passed our artillery gun positions we could see the Gunners, stripped to the waist; firing barrage after barrage of
heavy shells in support of the beleaguered Delta Company. The noise was deafening.
We no sooner got through the barbed wire entanglement than we again come to a halt.
‘Now what?’
‘I have been ordered to send back carriers to pick up the Battalion Commander and to wait for him to catch up.’
‘Bloody hell!’ I cursed. ‘Well let us wait at the river.’
As the APCs lurched across the rough terrain, I heard on the Battalion command net a report from the Officer
Commanding Delta Company.
‘My Company is now concentrated but one of my platoons is almost completely destroyed, the other two are only 75%
effective and the enemy appears to be reorganising for a final assault.’
So I was probably less than kind when again the column stopped on the near side of the river. I told the APC
Commander in no uncertain terms to get his Troop across the bloody river and, if necessary, we would wait on the far
side. My expectation of a willing partner in this hurriedly put together operation was quickly being eroded by a seeming
reluctance on the part of the APC to get into it.
...
Much has been written about the Battle of Long Tan but what is missing from accounts so far published; is the full story
about the relief force. The force that turned certain defeat into magnificent victory. The force that prevented the final,
annihilating enemy assault that would have overwhelmed the exhausted Delta Company and handed victory to the
enemy.
To quote the Commanding Officer 6 RAR, Lieutenant Colonel CM Townsend DSO, “The timely arrival of Alpha
Company mounted in the Armoured Personnel Carriers of 3 Troop, undoubtedly saved the day.” The Relief Force
assaults both mounted and dismounted, into the enemy encircling Delta Company for a final assault, forced the enemy to
beat a hasty retreat leaving 245 of their dead on the battlefield.
This story is also necessary to put the record straight. For some unaccountable reason, very little recognition has ever
been accorded to the vital part played by the soldiers of Alpha Company in the Battle of Long Tan.
But this narrative is not just about the Battle of Long Tan. This is an intimate story about Alpha Company 6 RAR
soldiers and their 1966-67 tour of duty in Vietnam of which Long Tan was but a small although significant part. Most of
those soldiers were National Servicemen who had never thought about soldiering or warfare until they were “thrust into
the breach” as it were. Their fortitude, perseverance, suffering and indomitable spirit inspired these pages. I am sure
you will enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed recording this story for you.
...
It is probably fair to say that the course of Australia’s participation in the war in Vietnam would have changed dramatically if the enemy had been victorious at the Battle of Long Tan. The death of 100 Australian soldiers could well have
broken our resolve and precipitated an early withdrawal of Australian forces. So perhaps it is appropriate that we start at
the beginning.
Page 50
NASHOS IN THE
TEAM
by Neil Leckie (3/68)
I am researching with the aim of putting together a book on
National Service Officers (see the Scheyvillian No 2, 2004)
and recently purchased a copy of Gary McKay and Bruce
Davies’ book:
The Men who Persevered
(The AATTV).
Like most people I knew very little about the Australian Army
Training Team Vietnam and had a quick read of the book. The
following is a précis of it.
...
Colonel Frank Serong and Wing Commander Brinsley
(RAAF) were sent to Saigon in June 1962 to negotiate a
Memorandum of Understanding on Australia’s possible
involvement in SVN and the possible stationing of a RAAF
Dakota there.
Col Serong was subsequently appointed Commander of the
AATTV on 5th July 1962, a post that he would relinquished
on 1st February 1965. He had run the Jungle Training Centre,
utilizing the expertise of Lt Col George Warfe DSO MC and
Maj Ben O’Dowd MBE 28th March 1955 to 21st May 1957,
had twice been attached to the Burmese Army and had
extensive experience in South East Asia.
36 Officers and NCOs (including reserves) sat in a briefing at
Middle Head in Sydney on 26th June 1962 and began two
weeks of training for deployment to SVN. The Australian
Army Component Vietnam was formally raised on 1st July
1962. It was renamed the Australian Army Training
Component then designated the AATTV on 12th July 1962.
Its role was to assist in training (not combat) of ground forces.
The original deployment of the team was decided from a
recommendation of the Chief of the General Staff to the
Defence Committee. It was to consist of Col Serong and 29
members.
The first team (later known as Team 1) would consist of 8
WW2 veterans, 3 of whom had served in Korea and Malaya.
A further 3 had served in the Occupation Forces in Japan of
which two had served in Korea. 14 had served in Korea (3 of
these also in Malaya) while another 7 had served in Malaya.
The main body departed by QANTAS jet on 29th July 1962.
They arrived in SVN on 3rd August 1962.
In the early days of the team, while some members of the
team had had some ‘moments’, the majority found that their
training role left them ‘bored and inadequate’ due to their
political restrictions to training units. However, all that would
change.
By November 1963, all of the team, except Col Serong, had
been replaced. Team 2 was on the ground. In June 1964 the
team grew to 60 and the training personnel would now be
employed at battalion and district level. At the end of 1964
the team had grown to 82.
On 1st February to 1st May 1965, Col David Jackson took
command of the AATTV with Lt Col Alexander Preece as the
Deputy Commander from March to July. The then Brig
Jackson took over command of AAFV in August while Lt Col
Preece took over command of AATTV. On 13th November,
Warrant Officer Kevin ‘Dasher’ Wheatley died in a battle
undertaken with the Civilian Irregular Defence Force. For his
bravery under fire he was awarded the VC, the first of four
awarded to the team. In November Lt Col Preece took over
command of 1 RAR and Lt Col Russell McNamara
temporarily took over the AATTV. By the end of 1965 the
team had reached a strength of 88.
February 1966 saw Lt Col John Milner take command. The
team now had 20 with Special Forces, 19 in ARVN Battalions
and special units, 10 in CIA-CSD ops, 9 in HQ/Admin and 18
on sector and sub-sector duties.
In February 1967 Lt Col Terry Tripp assumed command of
the AATTV. Major Peter Badcoe was awarded a posthumous
VC for conspicuous gallantry on three occasions: 23rd
February, 7th March and 7th April. He died on 7th April. At
the end of 1967 there were 87 members of the team.
On 29th January 1968, the Tet Offensive commenced. This
major offensive raged throughout the whole of SVN and
ended at midnight on 29th February. Five members of The
Team were wounded, two requiring evacuation to Australia.
In the middle of the offensive, Lt Col Ray Burnard took
command of the team. By the end of that year the team
numbered 96.
February 1969 saw Lt Col Russell Lloyd take command as the
‘battle season’ commenced. In the month of May, WO2 Ray
Simpson was awarded a VC for repeated acts of personal
bravery during a battle in Kontum Province. In the same
month Warrant Officer Keith Payne was also awarded a VC
for his sustained and heroic personal efforts during a
withdrawal, also in Kontum Province. At the end of 1969, the
team had 98 members spread across the 4 Corps Zones in
SVN.
Lt Col John (Alex) Clark assumed command of the team in
January 1970. In April President Nixon ordered a 150,000
reduction in the US Forces in SVN, while Prime Minister
Gorton announced that 8 RAR would not be replaced in
November. In this year the AATTV’s approved establishment
went from 99 (actually 105 on the ground) to 207. On 30th
September 1970, 134 members and ex-members of the
AATTV paraded at Vung Tau to receive the US Meritorious
Unit Commendation for service between July 1962 and
August 1969. In October 4 New Zealanders joined the
AATTV and were deployed into Phouc Tuy Province.
With a team strength now standing at 203, Col Geoffrey
Leary took command of the team on 6th January 1971.
Planning for the reduction of the team began in April 1971,
although the team’s maximum strength of 224 occurred in
August that year. In October the Mobile Assistance Training
Teams (MATT) in Phouc Tuy Province were reduced from 8
Page 51
to 2 teams and the remaining MATT were withdrawn to the
Jungle Warfare Training Centre (JWTC) and Sector HQ in
Phouc Tuy Province. By December, the AATTV Advisers
were concentrated in Vung Tau where their tasks were as
intended on their initial deployment: a training role only. The
team had now gone full circle. By the end of 1971 when Lt
Col Jim Stewart assumed the position of Acting Commander
AATTV, the strength of the team hap dropped to 86.
The AATTV HQ in Saigon closed and command of the team
was passed to Lt Col Keith Kirkland on 27th February 1972.
While activities in SVN for the team were winding down,
some members were training Cambodians. As they withdrew,
many team members felt badly about leaving SVN when the
job had not been finished. The last of the team left SVN on
18th December 1972 and the team was disbanded on 16th
February 1973.
Gary McKay and Bruce Davies’ book states that almost 1,000
men served in the AATTV. Of those, 23 were National
Servicemen of which 6 were Scheyville Graduates.
In general the other ranks were Drivers, Clerks and Medics,
while one was a Mess Supervisor and another a Linguist.
The Scheyville Graduates in The Team were:
4/66 Capt Rod Ashfield (RAInf) 15/10/70-15/10/71
Oct70-Mar71
3/54 ARVN 1st div, Phu Loc
Apr-May71
1st ARVN Regt HQ near Quang
Tri
Jun-Jul71
4/1 ARVN, La Vang
Aug-Oct71
1st ARVN Regt La Vang Quang
Tri
Tenjewberrymuds!
The following is a telephone exchange between a hotel guest
and room-service, at an hotel in Asia, which was recorded and
published in the Far East Economic Review:
Room Service (RS): "Mornee. Roon soybees."
Guest (G): "Sorry, I thought I dialed room-service."
RS: "Rye ... Roon soybees ... mornee! Jewish to oudor
sunteen??"
G: "Uh ... yes..I'd like some bacon & eggs."
RS: "Ow July den?"
G: "What??"
RS: "Ow July den? ... pry, boy, po?"
G : "Oh, the eggs! How do I like them? Sorry, scrambled
please."
RS: "Ow July dee baykem? Crease?"
G: "Crisp will be fine."
RS : "Hokay. An sahn toes?"
G: "What?"
RS:"An toes. July sahn toes?"
Page 52
1/69 2Lt John Bendeich (RAAC) 24/2/71-28/10/71
Feb71-Sep71
MATT 5 Hoi My Phouc Tuy
1/68 Capt Bill McLaughlin (RAA) 8/4/71-13/5/72
Apr71
Phouc Tuy Sector, Baria
Sep71
OC NOTT (Night Ops Trg Team)
1 Bac Lieu
Dec71
AATTV Training Gp Vung Tau
Jan-May72
Long Hai Training Bn
2/69 2Lt Tony Morris (RASIGS) 16/6/71-16/12/71
Jun-Sep71
MATT
Oct-Nov71
JWTC Van Kiep
2/69 2Lt Rod Margetts (RAInf) 2/4/72-18/12/72
Apr72-Nov 72
Long Hai Training Bn
4/66 Capt Peter Fletcher (RAASC) 17/8/72-16/12/72
Aug-Dec72
JWTC Van Kiep
The book makes an interesting read and for those of us who
served on involves many names of soldiers with whom we
have come in contact over the years.
The Men who Perservered
The AATTV – the most highly decorated Australian Unit of
the Viet Nam war.
Bruce Davies and Gary McKay ; Published by Allen &
Unwin. rrp $35 – available at all bookshops.
G: "I don't think so."
RS: "No? Y judo wan sahn toes??"
G: "I feel really bad about this, but I don't know what 'Y judo
wan toes' means."
RS: "Toes! toes!...Y jew don juan toes? Ow bow Ingli moppin
we bodder?"
G: "English muffin!! I've got it! You were saying 'Toast.' Fine.
Yes, English muffin will be fine."
RS: "We bodder?"
G: "No ... just put the bodder on the side."
RS: "Wad?"
G: "I mean butter ... just put it on the side."
RS: "Copy?"
G: "Excuse me?"
RS: "Copy ... tea ... meel?"
G: "Yes. Coffee, please, and that's all."
RS: "One Minnie. Scram aches, crease baykem, Inglish moppin
we bodder on sigh and copy ... rye??"
G: "Whatever you say."
RS: "Tenjewberrymuds."
G : "You're very welcome."
instincts of a good novelist. He has created memorable
and credible characters whom we can relate to as human
beings. He has developed a structure and storyline
whereby we can understand the complexities of the
planning and execution of a military campaign from a
viewpoint of which we are unfamiliar. He has managed
to create and maintain tension and reader interest in the
outcome even though we know what the result was. This
is quite an extraordinary achievement and David Sabben
can be well proud of what he has created here.
Readers of the Scheyvillian should read Though Enemy
Eyes not only as a natural interest in what one of our own
has achieved as a writer but also as a serious contemplation about what The Battle of Long Tan was probably
all about in the big scheme of things. If David Sabben’s
novel is somewhere near the truth of it all, then this was a
pivotal, major battle from the Australians’ point of view.
Book Review by Laurie Muller (1/65)
Dave Sabben (1/65) was a platoon commander at the
Battle of Long Tan in August 1966 and was a cocontributor to the recently published book Long Tan by
The Commanders which was featured in the most recent
issue of the Scheyvillian.
It is fair to say that his own experience at Long Tan and
his ongoing interest in the various debates and theories as
to what this battle was all about in the larger
military/political scheme of things, has him well placed to
imagine what it may have been like when viewed from
the enemy’s side.
Through Enemy Eyes is just that – a novel, a creative
piece of writing, an attempt to imagine the battle from the
viewpoint of the enemy. It is a work of “faction” whereby
the story is told by sticking to the known facts yet creating
a structure whereby the narrative and characters can be
credibly presented to us as readers as though it was
“true”.
It is a very difficult literary form because the author has to
write both as a novelist and as an historian and
sometimes these are incompatible disciplines. The
historian wants to ensure only the historical facts are
faithfully recorded, whereas the novelist wants to tell a
good story and has the capability to make up whatever is
missing to support the narrative. We as reader want to be
both entertained and convinced.
Certainly the critical military response supports this view.
“I doubted the hypothesis when I first heard about it but
after reading the book I have to admit it is all very
reasonable and logical. It fits the facts and is a good
read.” Bob Johnson Intelligence Corps (posted to Nui Dat
1968)
As a novel it is both enjoyable and satisfying and the
main characters stay with you. The description of battle,
from the viewpoint of the Viet Cong and North
Vietnamese troops, is terrifyingly real and brutal. The
sense of personal defeat, individual courage and
bewilderment at the failure of the campaign is made
plausible by sustained good writing by David Sabben.
We as readers know the Battle of Long Tan from the
Australian viewpoint. This exceptional work of “faction”
allows us to experience it from the other side. This is a
slightly unnerving experience as you begin to understand
just how fine the difference perhaps was, between
celebrated victory and ignominious defeat at Long Tan.
Should we read this novel? – yes we should! Should we
celebrate David Sabben’s achievement? – yes we should!
Should be proud of the various OTU connections to the
Battle at Long Tan? – too right we should!
Why don’t you buy a copy of Through Enemy Eyes and
form you own opinion.
...
The question then is has David Sabben been able to pull
off this tricky high wire act? The answer is yes – most
empahatically!
Through Enemy Eyes by David Sabben. Published in 2005
by Allen and Unwin in a large format paperback .rrp
$29.95. Available at bookstores everywhere.
David Sabben is a natural story teller. He has all the
Contact Allen and Unwin : www.allen-unwin.com.au and
check out Military Book HQ.
Page 53
One of Australia’s great adventurers, Lang Kidby concedes that he was
probably born in the wrong era. Rather than living the mundane routine
of everyday 21st century life, Lang would much prefer to be tracing
the source of the Nile, or hacking his way through the jungles of
the Dark Continent, or struggling to reach the North or South
Pole. Lang’s remarkable achievements have earnt him a
reputation for adventure second to none. His impressive
military career and tremendous historical knowledge will
stand him in good stead for the 2005 Peking to Paris
Expedition. An Australian Regular Army pilot with the
Aviation Corps for 14 years, Lang served in numerous
locations, including Southeast Asia and the United
Kingdom, and spent six years flying Pilatus Porter aircraft
in Papua New Guinea. Since leaving the army, Lang has
owned and run a marine construction company,
organised expeditions in Papua New Guinea and
Indonesia to recover crashed World War 11 aircraft,
contract-captained a deep-sea fishing mother ship for a
television crew off the coast of Papua New Guinea,
been awarded a Churchill Fellowship, and
commanded relief truck convoys in Iraq. But he is best
known for his spectacular aviation achievements,
which include conceiving of and operating the largest
long-distance vintage aircraft rally ever held, from
England to Australia, featuring 25 aircraft built before
1950. The rally required setting up workshops in the
US and Australia to construct a 1919 Vickers Vimy
twin-engined aircraft (the largest replica aircraft ever
built). Land flew the Vimy with fellow pilot Peter
Macmillan, and was awarded the Order of Australia
Medal for the project. To mark the 70th anniversary of
Bert Hinkler’s first solo flight from England to Australia,
Lang restored an Avro Avian biplane and flew it 40,000
kilometres through 18 countries from England to Australia,
feted wherever he went. But Lang’s the first to admit that his
success is due in no small part to his wife, Bev. She is his
greatest supporter, and the backbone of a brilliant partnership
that has seen them succeed in some of the world’s great
adventures. And when Lang and Warrant Brown met in France and
hatched the idea for recreating the Peking to Paris Raid, Lang was able
to realise a boyhood ambition – to follow in the steps of Prince Scipione
Borghese, in an Itala, on yet another of the great adventures of all time.
g g g g g g g g g g g a s g g g g g w e g g g g w g g g g g g g w g g
Page 54
Book Review:
The Great Peking to
Paris Expedition
Ten drivers in five veteran cars travel 14,000 kilometres
across China, Mongolia, Russia, Latvia, Lithuania, Germany,
Holland, Belgium and France.
This lavishly produced book is both a record of extraordinary
trip undertaken by these adventurers and an evocation of the
trials and tribulations of the original expedition in 1907 and
the re-enactment in 2005.
It is designed as a companion to the ABC-TV documentary of
the expedition shown nationally in early 2006.
More than anything else the exceptionally good photographs
make this handsome book an enjoyment. From the safety of
an armchair you can marvel at the timeless beauty of the
remarkable old cars themselves or thrill to the landscapes
through which they travelled. There is ample evidence of how
tough the terrain was on both the cars and the crew. The
opening photos of the enthusiastic, optimistic expedition
leaving Peking, contrasts with the final photos of an
exuberant, but nevertheless exhausted crew, on the Champs
Elysees, with the Eiffel Tower rising triumphantly in the
background.
The lively text, mainly by Mick Matheson and Warren
Brown, details just what they had to contend with as they
travelled through some of the toughest terrain in Asia, in
hundred year old cars that remained cantankerous, yet reliable
to the very end. The difficulties encountered; mechanical,
administrative and bureaucratic, would bring lesser mortals to
their knees, but not this expedition of hardy souls.
The book is a tribute to the madcap adventuring spirit of these
intrepid motoring enthusiasts and also a testimony to their
skills, daring and sheer ratbaggery in giving it a go.
Lang Kidby (1/67) was the driving force behind the idea and
all Scheyvillians should stroll down to their local bookshop
and buy a copy, as it is a guaranteed enjoyable read and will
make you feel a touch envious that you haven’t had a crack at
doing something like this yourself.
The Great Peking to Paris Expedition by Warren Brown,
Mick Matheson and Lang Kidby with photographs by Bob
Barker. Published Oct 2005 by Harper Collins rrp $55.
Visit the following websites for more info:
www. harpercollins.com.au or www.pekingparis2005.com
or www.abc.net.au/tv/pekingtoparis/
Laurie Muller (1/65)
Page 55
DVD Review by Laurie Muller (1/65)
AUSSIE TRACKERS
–VIETNAM
What a remarkable set of DVD’s! This two disc set has
been produced by John Neervoort (2/67)
2Lt John “Doggy” Neervoort led an Anti Tank/Tracker
Platoon of 6RAR during their second tour of Vietnam in
1969-70. With him he took a small Super-8 movie
camera, which he could fit snugly in an ammo pouch,
and recorded a remarkable and probably unique set of
mini documentaries of the battalion in action.
The sequences focus on the activities of the Tracker
Platoon, the dogs and their handlers, but also shows
some quite wonderfully evocative images of platoon
patrols, artillery in action, choppers and fixed wing flying
by both Australian and American crews, tracks and
tanks and “time off” down at the beach at Vung Tau.
These images from nearly forty years ago are raw and
unvarnished by professional film-making. They show the
quiet professionalism of Aussie diggers, their obvious
fitness and youthful exuberance, their humour and
camaraderie and the tough conditions of the Vietnam
tour. They bring back clear memories of the time and
place of the Vietnam War and also very strong feelings
about unresolved issues still lingering from that difficult
time in many soldiers’ lives.
There is one wonderful recent sequence of one of the
dog handlers, now no longer twenty years old, recalling
the dogs he trained and worked with in Vietnam. He still
calls them his mates and the good memory of these
wonderful dogs and their handlers is recorded
permanently on a walk with plaques at Goolwa in South
Australia.
There is also a fine personal piece to camera by John
Neervoort himself, explaining his reasons for
volunteering for National Service, his career as a soldier
and his reason for creating these DVD’s
John “Doggy” Neervoort has produced an amazing
record of one tour which is not only hugely informative,
but quite emotional in the memories it evokes of that
time when “we were soldiers once – and young”
I strongly recommend you purchase a set (Vols 1&2)
from:
Snomat Pty Ltd PO Box 144 Jannali NSW 2226. The
cost is $49.95 plus postage of $5.05 making them
$55 a set.
Also why not drop a note to John (above address) and
congratulate him on his initiative and achievement. It is
a quite remarkable and valuable piece of filmmaking!
Page 56
www.otu.asn.au
WITH APOLOGIES TO
ROBBIE BURNS
The new website of the OTU Association is up and running and
has the following main functions:
TAE A FART
•
Oh whit a sleekit horrible beastie
Lurks in yer belly efter the feastie
Jist as ye sit doon among yer kin
There sterts tae stir an enormous win'
The neeps 'n' tatties 'n' mushy peas
Stert workin' like a gentle breeze
But soon the puddin' wi' the sauncie face
Will hae ye blawin' a' ower the place
Nae maiter whit the hell ye dae
A'bodys gonnae hiv tae pay
Even if ye try tae stifle
It's like a bullet oot a rifle
Hawd yer bum ticht tae the chair
Tae try an' stop the leakin' air
Shify yersel fae cheek tae cheek
Prae tae God it disnae reek
But aw yer efforts go assunder
Oot it comes like a clap o' thunder
Ricochets aroon the room
Michty me a sonic boom
God almichty it fairly reeks
Hope a huvnae s**t ma breeks
Tae the bog a better scurry
Aw whit the hell, it's no ma worry
A'body roon aboot me chokin
Wan or twa are nearly bokin
A'll feel better for a while
Cannae help but raise a smile
Wis him! A shout wi' accusin glower
Alas too late, he's jist keeled ower
Ye dirty bugger they shout and stare
A dinnae feel welcome ony mair
Where e'er ye be let yer wind gang free
Sounds like jist the job fur me
Whit a fuss at Rabbie's party
Ower the sake o' wan wee farty
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
It has National newsletter function to keep Members up to
date with what’s happening around Australia – see Latest
News.
It has a State Chapter newsletter function to
provide up to date info on what’s happening in your state –
see State Chapters
It has an Events Calendar in the form of a month by month
diary.
It has the Membership data bases sorted by Class, State and
every which way.
It enables annual subscriptions and donations to be paid on
line.
It allows Members to update online, their personal
particulars.
It has a Reunions listing for forthcoming Class or other
reunions.
It has an online Q Store. All items in stock are illustrated
and are able to be ordered and paid for online.
It has all the back issues of the Scheyvillian archived as
electronic (PDF) files.
For Members it is password protected for such functions as the
Members’ data base files, membership matters generally,
financial transactions and the Q Store.
For the general public some of the non-sensitive information
will be available to anyone who accesses the website.
Your user name will be your normal name (all in lower case)
and your password will be your regimental number. If you can’t
remember the latter (the former should be OK) the website
provides for contact with the Secretariat and the number will
emailed, or phoned to you.
The website will be as up to date as the information flow from
State Chapters allows and from what is generated from the
National Committee. The databases will only be as up to date as
Members provide their details on line.
The Database function will do away with the printed
Membership directory which has become costly and rapidly out
of date after publication. A simple alphabetical listing of
Members will be published once a year, in the same format as
the the Scheyvillian and will probably list phone numbers and
email addresses only, if Members agree.
Overall the new website is there to provide a modern communication tool for Members and will allow for as up to date
Membership information as possible, given that many
Members are changing addresses regularly as they approach
retirement, or Sea Change or are simply out adventuring.
Page 57
NATIONAL & STATE CHAPTER CONTACTS 2006
NAME
PHONE
ADDRESS & EMAIL
H: 07 3374 1841
M: 0418 788 493
215 Savages Road
BROOKFIELD QLD 4069
[email protected] (H)
Owen Williamson (Linda) 4/70
Vice Chairman /Quarter Master
H: 07 3841 0807
M: 0407 462 341
W: 07 3246 1017
27 Alperton Road
BURBANK QLD 4156
[email protected] (H)
Michael Hart (Tricia) 2/69
Secretary
H: 07 3891 3261
M: 0408 713 928
W: 07 3839 5222
4/8 Goodwin Street
KANGAROO POINT QLD 4169
[email protected] (W)
Geoff Daly (Carmel) 4/69
Treasurer
H: 07 3848 0991
M: 0403 171 478
W: 07 3831 4433
268 Weller Road
TARRAGINDI QLD 4121
[email protected] (H)
Geoff Colless 1/71
Membership
H: 07 3368 2633
M: 0412 134 511
W: 07 3368 2633
PO Box 626
PADDINGTON QLD 4064
[email protected] (W)
Gary McKay (Gay) 2/68
Qld Chairman
H: 07 5446 2292
M: 0411 574 019
P O Box 689
COOLUM BEACH QLD 4573
[email protected]
Tony Sonneveld (Viv) 1/70
Past National Chairman
H: 02 9674 7140
M: 0419 249 687
W: 02 9679 7999
c/o Termimesh Sydney Pty Ltd
14 Bessemer Street
BLACKTOWN NSW 2148
[email protected] (W)
Greg Todd (Vija) 2/71
NSW Chairman
H: 02 9876 2958
21 Howard Place
NORTH EPPING NSW 2121
[email protected] (H)
Gary Vial (Libby) 3/69
SA Chairman/Webmaster
H: 08 8376 5701
M: 0414 762 525
W: 08 8376 2525
c/o CTMC Travel
PO Box 598 GLENELG EAST SA 5045
[email protected]
Peter Hateley (Gail) 2/71
VIC Chairman
H: 03 9629 9505
M: 0414 290 184
W: 03 9575 6586
9 Frodsham Road
RINGWOOD VIC 3134
[email protected]
David Ward 2/66
WA Chairman
M: 0417 927 146
W: 08 9321 2738
c/o Young & Wilkinson Accountants
PO Box 118, WEST PERTH WA 6872
[email protected]
Wal Hall (Anne) 2/68
OTU Rep to Duntroon Soc.
H: 02 6288 5251
M: 0418 659 010
W: 02 6287 3773
Wallace Hall & Associates
PO Box 3231, WESTON CREEK ACT 2611
[email protected]
John Peters (Kristine) 2/68
ACT Chairman
H: 02 6292 4251
M: 0417 692 545
W: 02 6265 4127
22 Carter Crescent
CALWELL ACT 2905
[email protected] (W)
Dennis Townsend (Anne) 2/70
TAS Chairman
H: 03 6247 3892
M: 0419 313 855
W: 03 6233 6429
4 Merindah Street
HOWRAH TAS 7018
[email protected]
Paul Rees (Trish) 3/68
NSW Hunter Paragraph
H: 02 6572 1688
M: 0428 722 757
W: 02 6572 3100
PMB5
SINGLETON NSW 2330
[email protected]
Q
store
ORDER FORM
ITEMS IN STOCK
OTU Peaked Cap
Polo Shirts
Tie
Plaque
Lapel Badge
Collar Badge
Window sticker
SEE WEBSITE IN FUTURE FOR
Q-STORE PURCHASES!
QUANTITY
(navy with silver OTU crest)
(navy with OTU crest on breast)
(navy with OTU crest – new 9cm wide)
(pewter badge on a jarrah base)
(silver – 17mm square)
(silver – 27mm square)
(full colour – 85mm square)
H – Home M – Mobile W – Work
Laurie Muller (Glenda) 1/65
Chairman & Editor
PRICE $
$25.00
$35.00
$30.00
$45.00
$ 5.00
$ 5.00
$ 3.00
Send to The OTU Quartermaster c/o Cleary Hoare 145 Eagle St Brisbane Qld 4001 and enclose payment for the total amount –
allow $7 for postage and packaging. Remember to provide delivery name and address.
OLD SOLDIERS
Paddy Outridge (Commandant 1972-73) and
Dick Flint (Chief Instructor 1969-72) together on
Anzac Day, Gympie Qld.
Charlie Coy. Sunrays at the 5RAR Reunion
(40th) in Canberra. Harry Neesham (1/65),
Col. Roger Wainwright (Duntroon) and John
Deane-Butcher (1/65).
Old Officer Cadets Mess, Scheyville 40 years on
– First Class Reunion.
The morning after the night before – survivors
from the marathon dinner.
Two old codgers – Laurie Muller AM (1/65) and
Gary “Head Banana” McKay MC (2/68)
at the 40th Anniversary Dinner, Brisbane.
The experienced traveller – Terry Keogh (3/69)
in France with an 8-hour ration pack.
Replaying the 4th shot on the 6th at the 19th at
Indooropilly Golf Club, Brisbane. Officer cadets
Watson (1/67), Lauder (2/66), Green (2/72),
McCarthy (2/72) and Maffescioni (4/70).
A small world – 3792830 John Foster and
3792831 Neil Leckie (3/68) comparing their onedigit-apart dogtags at the Avalon Air Show.
Page 59
Somewhere on the planet, someone from OTU
is bound to be doing something interesting!
The Great Peking to Paris Expedition pulls out of Beijing – a chirpy Lang Kidby in the passenger seat.
The ITALA rolls into Paris – a stuffed
Lang Kidby now in the driver’s seat.
A Little Ute and the Beast. Gazza
McKay’s Brumby snuggles up against
Lang Kidby’s Big Mac at the 40th BBQ at
Owen Williamson’s (4/70).
Nick Israel (2/70) conducting staff
training on Denis Island in the
Seychelles.
Somewhere in France – the 2/69
partisans have captured a suspect.
A finer body of men you won’t meet on a
day’s march! The 40th Anniversary BBQ
crew on Owen Williamson’s verandah.
Another fine and fearless body of men
attacking a birthday cake for 60 year
olds in Melbourne.