ANZAC Day 2020 is taking place without the usual social get together, and we are inviting readers to post their stories as a way of celebrating this very special day in a slightly different way.
Details can be found here - ANZAC Day Initiative - The Last Post Award - Inviting Your Contributions
Here are some more posts -
From FOTOBAI Member and regular contributor to these pages, Bryan Wilcockson, direct from UK -
"Before
COVID-19, ANZAC day meant the Bluebells were out, the Daffodils were on the
wane and it was time for some fatigue duties for LAC ‘Wombat’ Wilcockson
(gardener second class, acting, unpaid) on a certain Rowan Tree that acts as a
Gate Guardian at the former RAF Elvington, dedicated to a certain ‘Odd Bod’ who
cannot be there.
Social
exclusion measures currently mean a walk along the deserted runways of the
former RAF Burn and RAF Riccall, scanning east into the rising sun on the
look-out for the spectres of Handley Page
Halifax Bombers limping back to their ghostly dispersal points.
For those Odd Bods that didn’t know they
had Wombats in Yorkshire, they do. Specially bred for being a Waste Of Money
Brains And Time.
I hope that raises a laugh in these
troubled times.
From Karin Watts, Daughter of Odd Bod Mervyn Kurts (25/12/1924 to 5/8/2017) a photo and a poem written by Mervyn -
ANZAC
MORNING
On
Anzac morn we gather round,
To greet the dawn of day,
To pay respect to all our mates,
Old friends that passed away.
The bugler calls for those on hand,
Old soldiers of the nation,
To stand united as a band,
In solemn dedication.
A muffled cough, a heartfelt sigh,
A hankies sudden motion,
To dry a tear from lowered eye’s,
All hide a deep emotion.
They glory not in deeds of war,
And all its implications,
But can recall the part they played,
In service of our nation.
Their lives they offered
cross the sea
In
jungles dank and putrid,
On
desert sands and oceans deep,
And
in the skies of Europe.
They
sacrificed that we might live,
In
liberty and freedom,
Giving
all they had to give,
Not
asking rhyme nor reason.
But
freedom comes at dreadful cost,
So
many men and women,
The
flower of our nation’s youth
Were
taken from our bosoms.
So let’s ensure their suffering
Was not endured in vain,
Let’s
fight to keep our liberties
With
all our might and main.
And
when we gather round,
Next April twenty five,
Let’s all express our gratitude;
That
we are still alive.
From FOTOBAI Member Malcolm Gibson -
ANZAC DAY 2020 - REFLECTIONS OF TWO GENERATIONS AT
WAR
|
Private William B. COCHRAN |
Private William Bennie COCHRAN 2147 from Beaufort in Victoria, served with the
21st Battalion AIF, in the major trench battles of World War 1. He survived
being wounded at the Battle of Pozieres only to be killed at the Third Battle
of Ypres( known as 'Passchendaele') in October 1917. He has no known grave.
Twenty five years later, his nephew, Flying Officer Eric William
GIBSON 410049, from Yallourn, enlisted in the Royal Australian Air Force. After
completing pilot training, he was assigned to two Royal Air Force bomber
squadrons, 623 Sqn. flying Stirlings and 115 Sqn. flying Lancasters. He
completed his tour of 30 sorties and then became a flying instructor for the
duration. He was lucky to survive his tour of operations having been attacked by
enemy aircraft on several occasions and being hit by a bomb dropped from an
aircraft above. He was awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross and after the war
returned to his pre-war occupation in the power industry.
Private COCHRAN, who unfortunately never lived to relate his wartime
experiences personally, is remembered in family retained letters sent to his
mother. These letters contain details of his, and his compatriots, exploits in
the trenches but also described the misery and suffering of his fellow
soldiers. His loyalty to his home country and Great Britain were manifest, not
unlike many of those who returned from that conflict,
F/O GIBSON (my father), for many years, rarely spoke of his wartime
experiences. However, during his working life in Yallourn, he formed a long
lasting friendship with a workmate only to learn that this friend’s
brother-in-law had also flown with 115 Squadron and had been killed over
Duisberg, Germany on a raid which F/O GIBSON also flew on.
Initially, Dad joined an organization known as the ‘Tasker H.
Bliss Association’ which was named after the ship on which he and other airmen
(including Charles ‘Bud’ Tingwell) were conveyed to Great Britain and Anzac Day
was observed with a luncheon at the Moonee Ponds Bowling Club. In later years,
Dad joined the Odd Bods Association and although not able to participate in
marches, enjoyed hearing stories and reading the various articles put out by
them. Our family, and that of Frank SIMS, were well known to each other and
lived in close proximity.
We,
his family, remember with immense pride and sorrow, the service and sacrifice
of these two family members. Lest we forget.
From Sqn Ldr Bruce Philip Waxman OAM RAAF (Rtd), President, FOTOBAI
Pressing
on … remembering the NZ in the Anzac spirit
When we
Australians talk about the Anzac spirit the focus is on aussie mateship, the A
in Anzac and rarely the close ties with our kiwi mates ’across the ditch’, that
form the important NZ in Anzac.
My Anzac
story is about my dad, F/O Joseph Herbert Waxman DFC RAAF (Rtd) Halifax pilot
with 466 Squadron RAAF, an Odd Bod and his New Zealand mate, and in retirement
next door neighbour,Flt Lt James Blane Paton RNZAF (Rtd). Jim was seconded with
the RAF and flew Spitfires and Hurricanes in the Middle East. At one time he
landed his damaged Spitfire behind allied lines and often later recalled: ‘There
I was, no oil pressure, no altitude and the mighty Rolls Royce kept running’.
They are
pictured, after marching at Hastings RSL on Anzac Day 1985, on my dad’s farm in
Merricks North, Victoria, Jim proudly wearing the RNZAF officers’ dress uniform
with decorations.
Jim was very
fond of the Odd Bods and before my parents moved next door Jim marched each Anzac
Day with Flt Lt Norman Smithells RAAF (Rtd), fellow spitfire pilot.
Norm was initially
seconded to 131Squadron RAF in the UK and later to 79 Squadron RAAF in Morotai (pictured there
in 1945 with a Mk VIII Spitfire), and later President of the Odd Bods (UK)
Association.
Dad had lost
many of his close RAAF mates in WWII, a void Jim was able to fill.Indeed, if it
wasn’t for Jim dad would not have marched on Anzac Day.
Now that is
the Anzac spirit!
We should
install Flt LtJames Blane Paton RNZAF (Rtd) as a posthumous honorary Odd Bod
member, pressing on … remembering the NZ in Anzac.
I wish to
acknowledge the information provided by Blane Paton, Jim’s son, and Betty
Smithells, Norm’s widow.
From Odd Bod John Ireland recalling ANZAC Day 1945 -
I was stationed at Broadwell on 575
Squadron in Transport Command using Dakota Aircraft.
Looking at my log book an entry on Anzac
Day 1945 shows off we went from base to a place called Diepholz in Germany –
never been there before but off we went.
We arrived safely and upon arrival we
were informed that we were to pick up some prisoners of war – and eventually
out they came with excitement because they were free and so glad to see us and
the plane that was to bring them back home to
the U.K. In we loaded the 28 of them and gave our instructions for the
journey home and be seated at all times.
Off we went – up. up and away we went –
then with time to for them to settle down the different reactions you could see
from them, some chatted, some just stared into space, some cried to themselves,
some asked how long we will be in the air, where were we taking them and so on
– but they were so happy all over because they had the absolute trust and faith
in our crew of 3, because we belonged to them.
On and on we flew, some were air sick,
some sang songs, others asked where we were and we had one Australian soldier
who somehow knew that it was our Anzac Day, yes this was our day something
special just for the two of us. Yes the other 2 crew members we both English.
It was a good day for flying at about
7,000 or so feet and just smooth and visibility was good.
Now as we approached the French coast we
had to cross from Cape Gris Nez to Dover, as this was a 2 mile air channel and
then I pointed out to them that this was your home that you fought for. As we
neared the White Cliffs of Dover a burst of singing was heard, hands clapping,
tears in eyes and some shouting ‘Were Home – Were Home”
Yes RAF Wing was not too far away, so on
and settle down because your excitement was about to begin very soon.
RAF Wing in Buckinghamshire was
specially set out for all these prisoners of war coming home – bands,
streamers, people singing, next of kin looking for the men and of course plenty
of tucker for them and so on. What a sight to behold for we 3 crew.
Yes on 575 Squadron I did some 83 trips
to the Continent and various landings included but not all as joyous and
heartfelt as this and other similar trips, because these made up for the
difficult ones.
Yes for this trip we were away from our
base about 10 or so hours.