I am a sixth generation Australian of Irish and Scottish extraction. A visit to my site is a light hearted adventure across time, countries and cities.
This is Part 2 of my journal documenting a rather large and complex DIY planning project I have undertaken, I guess in my retirement I have nothing better to do. After all there is only so much fishing one man can squeeze into his life – How I wish. Part 1 available here expands on my motivations.
Well, ‘She who must be obeyed’ and I have literally spent 12 months pontificating, arguing, drawing, deciding, then changing our minds.
The first important fact to consider with existing houses is the extent of the existing space. Financial efficiency stems from working with what you have got – that simple. Accepting your existing resources and physical limitations, and then moving forward with a plan, is also a fundamental life tactic. In a reno the cruel fact of life is that every extra square metre of floor plan you build means more $. So don’t build extra space unless there remains no workable compromise solution within your existing walls.
So, the DIY Planning Journey:
Just start sketching and recording ideas, starting the DIY planning journey starts with but one step.
There is no such thing as a bad idea. What? Well, the journey to a solution often involves documenting what simply is bad, indifferent or impractical. At least you know now what you don’t like.
On this project I literally have sketch books full of silly concepts. And though I’m an Architect, I chose to simply use the basic Publisher package available on all our laptops. Designing your DIY project does not need fancy software! Keep it silly simple! The most important thing being to use a medium that all involved in the design can understand – Scrapbooks, photos, samples, whatever it takes to ensure that communication is effective.
This concept was rejected as not providing sufficient space in the new Kitchen. However, it allowed us to lock in certain strategic decisions:
Building a new Laundry was essential as it provided a second bathroom, always missing from the old 1890’s house,
A new Laundry would provide toilet and showering facilities whilst the existing Bathroom was demolished and refunctioned as a Ensuite, and
The new Laundry allowed the existing Bathroom to become a Ensuite to the Master Bedroom.
Always be mindful that rejected ideas may hold part of final solution.
And the DIY Rejections Continued:
This concept provided a workable large kitchen. But we decided having a Kitchen directly opposite the Master Bedroom was not so brilliant.
It’s worth noting my home is a Country retirement home. There are no resident children, just one still hard working from home businesswoman, and one retired want to be Country Squire, with too much time on his hands! So, in some ways the old 1890’s farmhouse is morphing into an open plan unit or villa.
The Final DIY Planning Solution:
This is the final outcome. Its construction will be the subject of this journal.
As a rule of thumb, the longer you spending arguing over design the better outcome.
Preparation:
I don’t have a workshop. Typically, in the past, I’ve made do with relocatable sawhorses. But in my Preparation Planning I considered the scale of what I had committed to:
Cutting kitchen doors, gables and large wall and ceiling claddings,
Cutting and prepping hanging beams, and joists required to remove a wall that separates the existing Kitchen and Lounge, and
Cutting and assembling Kitchen joinery drawer and cupboard fronts, kitchen carcasses, etc.
Well, some crappy wobbly sawhorses just would not cut it!
Critical preparation a solid 2400 x 1200 work bench. Materials required:
Two good quality adjustable trestle horses,
2400 x 1200 x 20 mm thick sheet of craftwood,
Six 2400 x 70 mm pine wall studs, and
Wood screws.
Total cost under $300 AUD, worth every cent!
I also rigged up two LED floodlights and a multiple power outlet on the ceiling of this deck, which is conveniently directly accessible to the DIY Kitchen Project. I’m expecting some long nights. Note to self – Where’s the bar fridge.
PS: I also did not tell ‘She Who Must be Obeyed’ that I was knicking her deck for the duration. Planning advice # 1 – Often faster to ask for forgiveness then permission.
Conclusion:
So now I’ve completed the Planning, executed my Preparation, well let’s crack on!
I’ve always had a passion for building stuff. Outside my professional construction career, I have actively engaged my whole life in ‘Do It Yourself’ (DIY) projects. As a kid I hung around dad’s garage workshop. By sixteen I was well accustomed to rebuilding car brakes, suspensions and engines.
I brought my first house at 23. Never opened a tin of paint before then, let alone renovated a house.
I paid $75,000 AUD for that house, three times my annual wage as a graduate Architect in 1986. In 2024 the median house price in that same City is $910,000 with a median wage being $85,000. I was very lucky!
After a lick of paint, some new carpet, a ‘wonder kid’ new kitchen (totally impractical but it looked funky), well I sold that house twelve months latter for $125,000. I made two years wages completely tax free! Needless to say, I was hooked on renovating crappy old houses and selling them on. I followed that passion for 40 years.
Life Lessons Learnt from DIY:
Of all the things I discovered that are as applicable to successful DIY as they are to life in general, I would include the following:
Preparation,
Planning,
Have the right tools,
Be resilient, expect things to go wrong, learn how to adapt,
Have and follow a vision, and
Don’t be afraid to ask the help of experienced experts.
Current Project DIY on a Grand Scale:
My current, and hopefully last project, is a 1890’s farmhouse I purchased some 20 years previously. I’m undertaking part refurbishment part extension. Phase 1 includes remodeling a rather tired old kitchen.
It’s all DIY. Though I have an electrician undertaking the seriously dangerous stuff.
Since it’s keeping me rather busy, I don’t have time for my usual Postcard history dabblings – So I thought I would maintain a journal of my experiences. Yes, some of my thoughts on life, and some insight into successful DIY for beginners.
It’s not well known that old Winnie was a qualified brick layer.
Winston in his long and turbulent political life had periods of deep depression, and periods out of power in the political wilderness. In such times he built walls, small cottages and ponds at his home. He found solitude in humble labour, it quieted his troubled soul, it gave him great satisfaction.
Indeed, for many DIY does precisely that, I have certainly experienced the same outcomes.
Then there is the practical benefit of doing it yourself – dollars saved. Building today is very expensive. And renovations are particularly so. Builders find them risky, too many potential unknowns, damp, leaking roofs and walls, termites, bad footings and so on. And old 1890’s farmhouses, well they a crooked, old hardwood is well very hard, and difficult to drill and work around.
On my mother’s side I was always told my ancestors left Kilkenny, Ireland around 1860. First to New Zealand then settling in the State of Queensland, Australia. In 1860 Queensland was an awful long way from Van Diemen’s Land, now the Australian State of Tasmania. Was my family connected to Van Diemen’s Land? And why flee Ireland seeking refuge in New Zealand?
New Zealand was still in a war, trying to steal the Country from the native Mauri people – surely Ireland was not that bad, that it was preferable to move to the other end of the Planet into a colonial war zone? Well Ireland was still suffering from the effect of several potato famine, about half the Irish had died or joined the diaspora seeking a future and survival abroad. But still New Zealand in 1860, there weren’t even many ‘Micks’ there!
Recently I started researching the ‘Irish Republican Brotherhood (IRB)‘. In around 1858 British Army Intelligence had cracked open that Irish secret society. Another example of traditionally how experienced the British Army was at infiltrating insurgency movements. Though this time they had for years missed the growth of IRB operatives within their own British ranks. An underground Guerilla Army of around 80,000 formal recruits.
Off to Tassie seeking answers.
The British Army commenced a round up, local imprisonment and for some, transportation for life Down Under to Van Diemen’s Land. 1860, Kilkenny was a hotbed of Republican resistance. My Australian Catholic Irish family were still proudly republican down to those I grew up with. So, do I come from Fenian guerrilla independence resistance? Or terrorists in other’s views! Did my ancestors bolt to avoid the door kick in at dawn? Were they indeed rounded up and sent Down Under for their political views?
I’m not sure yet. So, continuing my personal journey of discovery, I’m in Port Arthur, Tasmania, Australia’s early convict prison and about its most southerly European settlement.
If you’re ever Down Under pop down to Tassie. With a population of 570,000, ‘Tassie’ is indeed small. Yet that’s a good thing, small enough to suffer no vehicle or pedestrian congestion, large enough and old enough to be very interesting. Two of its primary assets are pristine wilderness and heritage.
Ghosts and spirits of Convicts passed.
But be warned it’s rather spooky! What with the spirits of dispossessed First Nations People and British Convicts – There’s many reasons for disgruntled spirits to seek some payback! But on this day, it’s a balmy 4 degrees Celsius with crystal clear sky: I’m ignoring the ghosts, instead pondering a temporal local spirit or two that would make a Scot say: “Those bloody Aussies can make a superb wee dram!”
Beautiful, yet cold day – Need some spirits to keep the Spirits at bay.
Where is Port Arthur, Tasmania?
In 1866 an unwilling ‘tourist’ described Port Arthur as follows:
“To find a prison in one of the loveliest spots formed by nature in one of her loneliest solitudes creates a revulsion of feeling I cannot describe.”
Unknown Irish Political Prisoner
Tasmania, Australia, or until 1840, ‘Van Diemen’s Land’, is a beautiful place to this day. Tasmania is home to Port Arthur, one of Australia’s notorious convict prisons. Port Arthur is about as far South as European occupation in Australia – No land mass separates it from the South Pole, just a huge wild cold Southern Ocean. Consequently, Port Arthur can be bitterly cold and wet. Typical of Australia, Tasmanian suffers awful drought and is at risk of ravaging by bushfires. Indeed, the ruins you see in this Postcard are the consequence of bushfires from 1897.
Port Arthur is readily accessible by aircraft or a large vehicle ferry. I flew from my home in Queensland. It cost about $600 (AUD) return and takes 2.5 hours. The ferry from Melbourne, capital of the mainland State of Victoria immediately adjacent Tasmania, is popular, but first you need to get there, and second you need to cross the Bass Strait. Matthew Flinders proved the Bass Strait existed in 1798. Matthew quite rightly called the strait, the most dangerous water on the Planet.
Port Arthur Australia’s Notorious Convict Prison.
Van Diemen’s Land and Port Arthur.
Why did Britain occupy Van Diemen’s Land?
The answer is simple – International politics! In 1770, Lieutenant James Cook will chart the east coast of Australia. He claimed it for Great Britain, ignoring the First Nations People who had been there for 60,000 years. The First Fleet of British ships arrived at Botany Bay, Australia on 26 January 1788 to establish a Penal Colony. But other Europeans had previously been eyeing parts of Australia, specifically Van Diemen’s Land (Tasmania).
Explorer Abel Tasman discovered Tasmania in 1642, working under the sponsorship of the Governor-General of the Dutch East Indies. In January 1793, a French expedition anchored near Port Arthur, exploring the area for a period of five weeks. In 1802 and 1803, another French expedition explored the region adjacent Port Arthur as well as charting the area Lieutenant Matthew Flinders had previously named Bass Strait.
Britain could not tolerate such interest from France. Consequently, in August 1803, the Govenor of the mainland colony established a military outpost on the Derwent River, now Hobart the capital of Tasmania. Thus, Britian believed it had forestalled any claims to the island arising from the activities of the French explorers.
First Nations People and Tasmania.
Before the British arrival, there were an estimated 3,000 – 15,000 First Nation Tasmanians. Their population suffered a drastic drop in numbers within three decades, so that by 1835 only some 400 full-blooded First Nations people survived. Incarcerated in camps where all but 47 die by 1847. As on mainland Australia, introduced disease claimed thousands of lives. Starvation due to European’s decimating traditional food sources, seals and kangaroo – easy prey to gun powder weapons. However, an active genocide occurred as the trespassing British Government and a desire of settlers for land, simply destroyed the existing inhabitants of Tasmania.
1870 – The last four Tasmanian First Nations People.
And what of the Transported Convicts?
By 1710 Britain decided to rid itself of the ‘Criminal Classes’, so they sent them to the future United States. The War of Independence closed that opportunity, so eventually Australia became the new destination. You don’t need to look far into transportation to see the rampant hypocrisy of the white Christian ruling class. For indeed this ‘Criminal Class’, were largely the agricultural workers, made redundant by the Industrial Revolution. Already living a subsistence existence laboring in the production of crops, the introduction of machinery made their labour redundant. Many fled to the big cities, but these opportunities working in mechanized factories only offered very long hours, barely subsistence wages, workplace danger, poor food, and a polluted, overcrowded environment.
The crimes of most convicts were petty by our standards: Stealing food, pick pocketing, and frequently amongst the women, stealing a hankie or scarf. So, whilst the Industrial Revolution created a new wealthy Merchant Class and boosted an existing Professional Class: Bookkeepers, architects, engineers, etc. – It completely destroyed a rural Working Class whose lives had not really changed much in centuries.
The ‘Wonders’ of 18th Century London.
Convict Transportation Downunder – The first Convicts arrive:
26 January 1788, the First Fleet arrived in Australia, carrying 1400 people: Marines, sailors, civil administration, and free settlers, of whom 796 were convicts. The 600 male and 196 female convicts had languished after sentence locked in rotting old British ships. After surviving six months at sea, they found themselves on a foreign shore, most never to return.
We often imagine such convicts locked in our contemporary image of prison. But for these convicts, there were no prisons, they simply lived in tents or rough built huts. Not till much latter were prisons, which we would recognise, such as Port Arthur actually constructed. None too eager British Marines will provide security. The Marines themselves were a scruffy lot, for Britain’s Navy had taken the opportunity to also rid itself of troublemakers. Troublesome soldiers and marines will be a constant theme in the new colony. British officers, marines and soldiers will create Australia’s first and only military coup in 1808 when the Government of William Bligh, of Mutiny on the Bounty fame, is overthrown.
So, for many convicts, arrival in Australia meant open space, fresh air and at least some relative freedom. Sustenance will be a problem. The first colony will nearly starve until they learn to harvest the bounty of a new Country and what crops to grow. But we need to retain the context of where this ‘Criminal Class’ came from, risking starvation in Australia was perhaps preferable to starvation in their country of birth.
Van Diemen’s Land – Male Convicts go to work:
Food and shelter were the most pressing priorities. Convicts were quickly separated according to skill sets – farmers, fisherman, and carpenters being looked on favorably. Convicts in these categories, if they were well behaved, rarely spent time in chains, though the military guard was ever present. Punishment was harsh and brutal. Many convicts would have ‘interviews’ with the ‘Cat of Nine Tails’, the British Military flogging with a nine roped lash. For male convicts lacking such critical skills, having only their labour, days were spent in chain gangs, building roads, cutting and hauling timber. Always the marines were present and always the gangs were chained at the ankles.
Unskilled Convict Male Labour – The Chain Gang.
And what of Convict Women?
Anne Summer’s 1975 publication, ‘Damned Whores and God’s Police‘, well describes the lot of Australia’s convict women. The first grouping is self-explanatory if not all that accurate. What of God’s Police? In the latter Anne was describing the outcome for many. In a male orientated colony, with at the social bottom: uneducated, unskilled ex-convicts, sailors and common soldiers, none of whom had any money let alone investment capital, versus a controlling hierarchy of comparatively wealthy,well-educated military officers, public servants and increasing privately funded settlers – wives were in big demand, the status quo hierarchy having the first pick.
Consequently, many female convicts, upon arrival, immediately were sent to established households as domestic servants. Not one day of the original sentence actually will be served in what we would recognise as prisons conditions. Servants quickly became lovers, carers of children from previous deceased wives, and then wives and partners in business, property investment and farming. They became ‘God’s Police’, upstanding morale defenders of Britain’s transported society. So, for many convict women, transportation Down Under provided opportunities and a quality of life they could never have attained in Britian.
Foundational role of Women in Australia.
Van Diemen’s Land and Irish Political Prisoners?
40,000 Irish convicts were transported to Australia between 1791 and 1867. The most common offence was stealing and only 600 were transported for the ‘political’ crimes of treason-felony and mutinous conduct. The largest group arrived in New South Wales in 1798-1806, following the United Irishmen uprisings against British rule. The leaders of the brief ‘Young Ireland’ uprising of 1848 were convicted and sent to Port Arthur. In 1867, 62 Fenians (members of the Irish Republican Brotherhood) were convicted of treason-felony and mutinous conduct and were transported to Western Australia.
In our contemporary ‘enlightenment’ its perhaps difficult to understand that transportation, as opposed to execution, showed considerable leniency on behalf of Britain. By comparison the Easter Rising in April 1916, would see 16 Irish Republicans executed by firing squad by order of a British Military Court Martial. The Court was held in secret and none of the accused allowed defence representation. 3,430 were arrested, some held until June 1918, all without trial.
So, it seems there was considerable support in Mid 19th Century Britain, for Irish Republicanism, enough to pressure authorities to treat lightly those convicted of treason. This becomes clear when we look at the Young Ireland movement that found themselves in Port Arthur.
Port Arthur and the ‘Young Ireland Traitors’
William Smith O’Brien was the leader of the Young Ireland uprising. Convicted of Treason/Sedition, his death sentence was commuted to transportation to Port Arthur, after Petitions for Clemency were signed by 70,000 people in Ireland and 10,000 people in England. Upon arrival in Van Diemen’s Land, O’Brien and his three fellow traitors, were immediately offered a ‘Ticket of Leave’, effective parole and the right to live free in society. O’Brien refused and was imprisoned, well kind off! A small but quaint cottage was built for O’Brien. He latter accepted a Ticket of Leave, after lobbying from the local press.
O’Brien’s Cottage – The lightest penalty for treason in British History.
London’s hierarchy seemed not to appreciate that sending your unwanted, especially the troublesome Irish, too the other end of the Planet, was all well and good. But a ground swell of Irish Republicanism became established Down Under. Traitors like O’Brien were supported by the local newspapers, and off course a substantial part of society who were Irish and had themselves been transported. Both Irish Republicanism, and the tension between British Anglicanism and Irish Catholicism became a significant element in Australian life. I felt the tail end of it in the 1970’s. These days most Australians are agnostic at best, and more likely to fight over a Rugby League match.
In Search of My Own Beginnings.
Although I have not as yet discovered at Port Arthur a relative of political prisoner status. And I acknowledge it’s perhaps distinctly Australian, to desire to prove my existence stems from a common convict, let alone one transported for treason. I have found a likely suspect though in one John Walsh transported for the grievous crime of knicking six potatoes!
Convict # 26397 – John Walsh – Potato thief!
John Walsh (Walsh is my Mother’s Maiden Name) was Roman Catholic and born in Kilkenny. At the time of his trial in 1852 there were 3000 Roman Catholics registered with the parishes in Kilkenny. My own empirical experience of living in a rural town of 10,000, proves that if you share a surname, well your definitely related.
This is simple conjecture on my part, but it’s possible that this is where my journey as an Australian started. If nothing else John serves as an example of the humble foundation stock from what successful Countries are often made. Just imagine – Dispossessed by the Industrial Revolution from your simple life of agricultural labour, watching your loved ones starve and die as yet another potato cropped failed, and then sent to the arse end of the world for knicking a few dollars’ worth of spuds!
Conclusion – Lesson’s from Van Diemen’s Land:
If you don’t know where you have been, how can you navigate the future:
Despite harsh punishment if caught, some convicts did escape, but there was nowhere to run. Tasmania still remains a largely wild natural place full of dangerous snakes, wombats, Tasmanian devils, wallabies and other abundant wildlife and edible flora. But knowledge and tools are required. Escaped convicts had little such survival know how. Many returned and accepted several dozen ‘interviews’ with the ‘Cat of Nine Tails’, solitary confinement and more years on their sentence.
Solitary Confinement – Many simply went mad.
Some were adopted by First Nations People, the legitimate owners and custodians of the Land. Who often had sympathy for escaped convicts, from a safe distance they had seen how British Authorities brutalized, they did not like it. I can’t help but wonder just who were the ‘savages’?
Those convicts became the genetic seed pool of contemporary Australia. Yet we tried for generations to erase the ‘Convict Stain’. However, from around 1950 a new view emerged. Today convict heritage is quite a badge of honor – Yet another quirky Australia cultural tradition. And contemporary Tasmania?
Well, I’ve eaten amazing ‘Goat Curry, Garlic Naan, and Rice’ at a crappy shopping mall in one of Hobart’s poorest neighborhoods. Saturday brunch – ‘Persian Lamb, Mint and Yogurt Turkish Wrap’, accompanied by Chilean Tempura Mushrooms. And one of the best Vietnamese Pho and BBQ Crispy Pork in a cheap student cafe.
From such beginnings, Nations can rise and seek something better. What will be required? Knowing where you’ve been, accepting it and making a choice to proactively embrace change, and acceptance of all.
Feeling very grumpy today! Postcard # 33 and nothing to write about. It has been said that the first writing is always autobiographical, well I’m 40,000 words in since Postcard # 1 on Sept 09, 2022, and not a thing to say, long life or otherwise.
I turned to Ernest Hemingway for guidance:
The Grumpy Old Man of the Sea.
Well, that just made me grumpy and depressed! I’m 61 Earnest, how much more living do I need to do? Off course this maxim was Ernest’s excuse for running around the world. Working as an ambulance driving medic in the 1936 Spanish Civil War, getting ahead of General Patton’s advance in WW2 whilst capturing German held towns, slaughtering African wildlife, walking away from crashed planes and killing really big fish. If only someone told him that was the Bi-Polar acting, not the search for something to write about.
Ernest and Grumpy Disruption.
Ernest disrupted the world with his no nonsense writing, but seriously Earnest, a little more positivity might sweeten the fact that my writing is well, stalled!
Earnest’s Writing was nothing if not to the Point!
Ernest gave me some direction, “Put on paper what I see, do it simply“. I think I’ve done that, but it only filled 21 crappy Post Cards!
OK: Let’s try writing about grumpiness!
Think you’re Grumpy, ask your partner.
Then I discussed this with my wife Lizzie, who instantly confirmed: “Write about grumpiness and cynicism, you’re a master on those subjects!” So now I was grumpy, depressed, and confronting the awareness of how shallow and transparent I obviously am!
The very young Hemingway inspired me to write about grumpiness: Lizzie was spot on as grumpiness is something I truly know and care about.
Grumpiness it is!
“All you have to do is write one true sentence. Write the truest sentence that you know.’ So finally, I would write one true sentence, and then go on from there. It was easy then because there was always one true sentence that I knew or had seen or had heard someone say.”
Ernest Hemingway. ‘A Moveable Feast’, 1964.
One sentence is easy, what about the rest of the Story?
So, there you go, perhaps not one ‘True Sentence’ but since ponderously, prevaricatingly starting this Postcard I’ve written 300 words, much ado about nothing much!
Classically human – Much ado about nothing.
So, does grumpiness have a cause? Did the ancient Greek plays of the propagandist Pericles feature Grumpy Old Men? Do external events make me grumpy? Is there a cure for grumpiness?
What is Grumpiness?
In the world of psychology and mental health, there’s no technical definition or criteria for grumpiness, Grumpiness is a mood. A mood is a prolonged emotional state, typically between a handful of minutes to several hours or even days. You can’t be grumpy for 10 seconds. That would just be an emotion.
And you probably don’t know why you are grumpy. Everyone says, “I just woke up grumpy”. Usually for no particular reason, grumpiness is mysterious!
Being a man, naturally I reacted to mysterious mumbo jumbo as, well Mumbo Jumbo: No way, there must be a logical ‘mansplaining’ reason for grumpiness, surely? Then I discovered ‘Irritable Male Syndrome’ – I got even grumpier!
Irritable Male Syndrome (IMS):
Some medical practitioners believe the stereotypical grumpy old man, may be suffering IMS, clinically called ‘Andropause’, colloquially ‘Male Menopause’. Andropause is most directly caused by a decrease in testosterone. Testosterone is the key to male reproductive development. It also factors in other male characteristics, such as muscle mass and body hair. Levels of testosterone tend to decline gradually in men starting in their 30s: And I thought the grumpiness in 30 something men was down to overworking, exhausted partners, trying to keep up with the Jones’, and large mortgages.
Having solved the riddle of my grumpiness, I presented my findings to Lizzie, who promptly said:
“You didn’t slowly become grumpy at 40, 50 or 60, you’ve always been consistently grumpy!”
My wife Lizzie.
So now I was grumpy, depressed, transparent, and trying to find solace in the fact that I was a least consistent!
Grumpy guide to weightlifting.
I’m not really into self-help books. Grinding out my morning weightlifting routine, I was pondering this IMS thing. Pondering such could not hurt, could it?
Are excellent tribal tattoos an optional requirement?
When I was a school kid, teachers often wrote on my reports, “He is consistent..”. I always thought, Ok, that’s a lame code for averagely crap at everything. Then Dwayne reminded me how the world’s view on consistent effort has positively changed.
So where did this mysterious grumpiness commence?
I’m still not finding any solace in being consistently grumpy!
The Origins of Grumpiness.
The world’s first recorded ‘Grumpy Old Man’ was Hesiod, the ancient Greek. Hesiod was such a pain in the arse, his notoriety time travelled down to us. He spent his years complaining, boasting, offering gratuitous advice and being a complete misogynist.
Hesiod – The first Grumpy Old Man.
Hesiod’s book ‘Work and Days’ time travelled down to us. In many ways it’s the first self-help book, not something you expect from grumpy old men.
Grumpy Old Men make enduring Time Travellers.
Today we are accustomed to grumpy old men supporting equal opportunisms. They give everyone an equal spray. However, Hesiod started this, letting rip on everything, he mastered and invented the grumpy old man genre.
A Grumpy man’s guide to women.
Hesiod on women:
“Do not let a flaunting woman coax and cozen and deceive you: she is after your barn. The man who trusts womankind trust deceivers.”
Hesiod. 700 BC.
Attacking half the population is definitely not self-help instruction for budding writers!
Hesiod even has advice on toilet habits:
“Never piss in the mouths of rivers which flow to the sea, nor yet in springs; but be careful to avoid this. And do not poo yourself in them: it is not well to do this“.
Hesiod. 700 BC.
The Earth’s rivers and oceans would have received help from adoption of this wise advice. Perhaps readers read Hesiod’s advice on attacking women, decided this guy was an idiot?
Hesiod keeps his most grumpy tirade for his own generation:
“The father will not agree with his children, nor the children with their father, nor guest with his host, nor comrade with comrade; nor will brother be dear to brother as aforetime. Men will dishonour their parents as they grow quickly old.”
Hesiod. 700BC.
Hesiod remains in print 2600 years after his death. Consequently, proving you can be a grumpy old bastard, and still remain relevant.
I have no idea if Hesiod suffered Irritable Male Syndrome, or if he failed to work out in the Ancient Greek Fitness Centre, which Doctor Google informs me was actually called a Gymnasium. Surely a man can be simply consistently grumpy in response to life’s vicissitudes. So, I started with a grumpy character who since my childhood I have known as a bad guy.
Vice-Admiral William Bligh.
Commander William Bligh – A right royal grumpy bastard.
William Bligh, of the ‘1789, Mutiny on the Bounty’ fame, was a right grumpy bastard. Lesser known outside Australia, William was also the 1806 Governor of the New South Wales Colony, destined to become Australia. Did he have anything to be grumpy about?
Bligh had a spectacular Royal Navy career, starting as a cabin boy at age 6, Vice Admiral upon his death in 1814 at age 60. Today we would be appalled at the thought of one so young working on any ship at sea, let alone a British combat ship! But the Royal Navy was concerned about a young man’s welfare, so William would have been limited to only one litre of beer per day! William’s peers, the common sailors, were ‘Three Sheets to the Wind’ every day on 4 litres of beer. Perhaps hard to be grumpy around a ship full of drunken, cursing, jig dancing, and hard-working sailors.
However, William applied himself to his studies becoming in the words of his mentor Captain James Cook: “The Royal Navy’s greatest navigator”. 1776, age 22, William’s luck changed, everything went SNAFU, grumpiness set in. Cook selected Bligh for his third Pacific voyage. Cook promptly had himself eaten by Tahitians, Cook’s second in command died from tuberculosis, leaving William to sail the ship home to Britain which he did in 1780. Extraordinary achievement for a 22-year-old. Long ocean voyages of responsibility became Bligh’s habit along with his grumpiness.
Then in 1789, Bligh in command of HMAS Bounty, had a heated discussion with Lieutenant Fletcher Christian.
Captain Grumpy meets Lieutenant Charm.
One grumpy bastard and a smart arse.
Fletcher, had none of William’s professionalism, exquisite seamanship, or traditional British Navy ability to endure regardless of setbacks, just get the job done. Whereas Bligh was grumpy and standoffish with the sailors, Christian was extrovert, charming, charismatic, and romantic. His mercurial mood swings, being what today we would call bi-polar. The Bounty had just left Tahiti, a land of plenty, no work, and beautiful island lasses, to whom Christian Morality, was well just silliness.
A mutiny ensued and Bligh found himself with 18 loyal crew, in a 6-metre-long boat, in the even longer, wider open ocean. Not perturbed, Bligh sailed 47 days to the European colonial outpost of Timor. Quite extraordinary feat of navigation and leadership. Doubtful whether many, if anyone living today, could replicate such a journey. If William Bligh lacked sufficient reason to be really grumpy, well it just keeps getting better.
Grumpiness, another Mutiny and Propaganda.
In 1808, Bligh now the Governor of New South Wales, became the victim of another mutiny, this time a successful coup by the British Army forces charged with protecting the Colony. A watercolour painting depicts the arrest of Bligh.
Australia’s First Public Propaganda.
This cartoon is Australia’s earliest surviving political cartoon and like much propaganda it makes use of caricature and exaggeration to convey its message. The New South Wales Corps’ officers regarded themselves as gentlemen, and in depicting Bligh as a coward, the cartoon declares that Bligh was not a gentleman and therefore not fit to govern.
Now we see the reason for William Bligh’s grumpiness, this cartoon, how most Australian’s remember Bligh, is a complete fabrication! If anyone deserved to be Court Martialed, it was the New South Wales Corps’ officers. My previous Postcard,‘Propagandist Bastards Dangerous Deception‘, discussed the destructive power of propaganda. Bligh was justifiably grumpy, a man of exceptional talent, perhaps the world’s greatest ever navigator: Time travelled down to our generation as a coward hiding under a bed.
Lieutenant Charm and his Princess.
And what of Fletcher Christian? Well, he certainly was not grumpy! He and the Bounty Crew returned to Tahiti, Fletcher married his princess, they sailed off to find another lost island and basically disappeared from history. Well actually Christian was killed in a love tryst, other mutineers were killed playing rugby with Tahitians, the rest were captured by the resilient, and persistent British Navy. During transport back to Old Blighty their ship the ‘Pandora’ ran upon a reef, some drowned, some survived. Some of those survivors were flogged and hanged – A lot of grumpiness all round then!
Christian looks rather smug not grumpy!
The End of Grumpiness.
Well, I’m still grumpy! But, with more than a little assistance from Ernest, I did manage to write 2000 words. Not many true sentences, but then Hemingway predated Fake News, Postmodernism, Gonzo Journalism, and the contemporary world which celebrates, “Much ado, about nothing”. Oh, William what a brilliant time traveller though art.
Classic Human behaviour – Much ado about nothing.
So, what makes me grumpy? Yes, I guess I avoided answering that obvious question:
The standard of driving makes me grumpy. I blame the Japanese. These absolutely reliable, small, fast, automatic hatchbacks – Easy to drive fast, swerve, change lanes, all make old men grumpier! My first cars in the 1970’s/1980’s were slow, cumbersome, manual three speeds, notional brakes – You needed to learn to control such beasts. Or perhaps I’m just jealous?
The rise of White Nationalism, Support of Neo-Fascism and Trumpism – This makes me absolutely raging with Grumpiness – Toss Putin in with that as well.
Writer’s Block Reflections.
I commenced this Post, blocked, little direction: Much to do about nothing. Yet, I have managed 2000 odd words, very odd words I imagine. Every person has a story to tell. The key to overcoming writer’s block is well start writing. That is the essence of Hemingway’s advice, “Write one true sentence“. There are 8 billion humans out there, odds on someone will relate to your story.
Conclusion:
These are events outside my direct control, but they have impact, though not much I can effectively counter them with. Fletcher Christian gave William Bligh a literal lifeboat, William marshalled his loyal team, sailed and rowed his way out of adversity, well more aptly saved himself for yet more adversity to come.
Old Hesiod, the World’s original Grumpy Old Man had a peer in the Ancient World, Marcus Aurelius Emperor of Rome. Marcus definitely did not have IMS and most certainly followed Dwayne Johnson’s testosterone firing workout routine.
Marcus’ writing on stoicism time travelled brilliantly, it remains relevant. A fact that no doubt makes Hesiod grumpier still. Hesiod may be interesting, though I don’t see Linked In Posts promoting Hesiod’s advice about not crapping in your local river. But Marcus provides a lifeboat to navigate your own life’s river, polluted or otherwise, and the even longer, wider open ocean.
I’m still consistently grumpy: But now I’m off to hit the weight bench!
Marcus Aurelius Roman Emperor and not so Grumpy Bastard.
(This Post was originally published in January 2023. With the passing of 12 months, and upon reflection, the warnings contained therein have become even more acute.)
Welcome to 2023! I’m eagerly expecting a year of wonder, interest, frustration, and concerning events. What may come over the horizon? Like taxes, you can count on more political propaganda this year! When did it start? What’s its intent? Who were/are some of the great propagandists of time travel? Does propaganda take many forms? What if any are the defenses against the black arts of propaganda. I’ve been pondering such in between XMAS and New Year festivities. Yes, I know at 60 you would think I had a life!
Defence Against the Dark Arts (DADA) – Chapter 11 PROPAGANDA
Make America great again – Powerful dangerous effective propaganda.
November 17, 2012, was a historical day in US history. Donald Trump ‘created’ a slogan that is perhaps the finest expression of propaganda in the contemporary world. Incidentally he stole the concept, who would expect anything else!
MAGA – Make America Great Again – clever but dangerous propaganda.
MAGA is brilliant as a propaganda slogan. Its simplicity and statement of nothing precise, provide the receiver multiple imagined reference subjects. All the bad evil things in your life, Trump will fix. Taxes, immigrants, talk of climate change, inflation, the Clintons – Trump can fix it. A defining aspect of both propaganda and Fascism is the promise of easy fixes. If only you were to give enough power to those who brought you the enlightenment in the first place!
Surely, a baseball cap could not possibly warn of the threat of the violence inherent in the propaganda system. Well of course it can’t! That’s the point of propaganda. To convince common people to support, allow, and sustain actions which they would otherwise abhor!
People are diverse and complex, nothing more diverse than opinions on the structure of society. Some of those opinions are ugly! Fascists, and their belief that violence is legitimate political discourse. You’re not likely to see that printed on a baseball cap, it wouldn’t fit.
Behaviour never lies – The Winnie defense.
Winston Churchill knew one defense against these dark arts was to watch people’s behaviour, and not listen to their words.
Winston’s Primary Defence Against the Dark Arts of Propaganda
But I’m getting ahead of myself. When and where did Propaganda commence its Time Travel?
Origins of Propaganda:
Time travelling back 2538 years to ancient Persia we find King Darius. Darius would bang on with his own version of MAGA – Make Persia Great Again (MPGA), which loses something. I guess the illiterate Trump was lucky America starts with a vowel!
Jumping forward 110 years, we find Pericles in the Acropolis, washing dolmades down with litres of retsina. Prior to the rise of Greece, most people lived under despots. With limited means to represent their political desires as a group. Pericles and his mates were well aware of their group interests. All well informed of the political affairs of their City State. We know Greece as a democracy, but it was a closed shop, excluding women, slaves, non-Greeks and other undesirables. Perhaps Pericles’ propaganda was focused on keeping democracy just the way it benefitted his interest group?
Pericles knew nothing of newspapers, radio, television, LinkedIn and Twitter. But he had public games, theatre, law courts, public oratory, and religious festivals. All of these were used as powerful engines of propaganda to mold attitudes and opinions.
Architecture as Propaganda.
The Greeks were great thinkers, or perhaps it was the retsina. But Pericles realized when the curtain went down on your latest ‘Broadway’ production, well your propaganda went silent. I know, let’s build a huge temple on the highest most expensive land in the city: The Parthenon was born. It’s notable that other great propagandists also chose large architectural monuments to propagandize their message. Christian cathedrals are notable examples as well Hitler’s world capital ‘Germania’.
The Parthenon, built 2450 years before Trump Tower, was intended to show the world the Greeks were strong and brave. In order to serve Pericles’ nationalistic goals, the temple was built on the sacred Acropolis. Seen by anyone approaching the city, permanent glorification of the greatness of Greece. The Parthenon may have survived, but Pericles’s intent for the Greeks did not. The famous Parthenon marbles were knicked by the British in 1812. And the European Union has financially bailed out Greece on more than one occasion. Seems propaganda often does not stand the test of time!
Bits of the Parthenon – The best bits are in the London Museum
Propaganda and the Ancient World.
My previous Postcard, ‘Lust, Fascists and Arseholes’ discusses the fact that Julius Caesar’s writing was self-seeking propaganda. Roman writing is the primary ancient history which time travelled down to us. Tragically, most of it is Roman self-seeking bull shit, consequently much was lost about other worthy ancient civilizations. Propaganda distorts history, it really is Fake News.
Another Roman Emperor, Marcus Aurelius did not have the same penchant for self-seeking bollocks. Marcus wrote about Defence Against the Dark Arts (DADA), his writings on stoicism justifiably time travelled down to us. Reason is the greatest defense against propaganda, but the dark arts are sneaky!
2000-year-old warnings on defense against propaganda.
Fart jokes and propaganda.
Propaganda was on for young and old with the invention of the printing press in 1450. Several hundred years of mass-produced propaganda followed. As the Protestant Reformers and the Anti Reformation Roman Catholics, slogged it out for righteous dominance. You didn’t think the printing press would have been used to educate the mud eating British peasants, did you?
There does not seem to have been much discipline to 15th Century propaganda. Certainly, a lot of buttock baring, farting jokes, and other schoolboy humour. Seems to be what influenced Donald Trump’s personal propaganda style!
I guess Twitter simply maintains a proud tradition of Propaganda.
The two world wars elevated propaganda to a studied art form. Propaganda counters and bi-passes logic, reason, rational thought, and common sense: It manipulates emotions. My previous Postcard, ‘Bastard Horse and Scared Young Men’, introduced my Uncle Les, who ran off as a 16-year-old, joined the Australian Light Horse and fought through World War 1. I’m guessing that Les’ ‘adventure’ was inspired by manipulative propaganda:
WW2 – Liars, creeps and other bastards
If WW1 made propaganda an art form, WW2 was the master period. NAZI Germany knew the manipulative magic of the Dark Arts, creating a Government Department run by Joseph Goebbels.
“Make the lie big, make it simple, keep saying it, and eventually they will believe it”
Joseph Goebells.
NAZI Creep – Joseph Goebbels. Master of destructive propaganda.
Now this guy was a real creep, couldn’t lie straight in bed! Winston warned us that, “Behaviour never Lies”. True to form, the actual cowardice and brutality of Goebbels was exposed in May 1945. Instead of facing the Russians, he and his darling wife murdered their 5 children and killed themselves.
NAZI propaganda, had at its core a complete disdain for people. But they had thought it through, they knew the psychology upon which it played.
Hitler – An appeal to those of limited intelligence.
The little corporal had no more respect for the people, then Goebbels:
The little corporal had no more respect for the people, then Goebbels.
Welcome to the Red Baron’s not so little friend.
Hermann Goering, was no fool, self-seeking, pompous, and arrogant, but clever and calculating. A decorated WW1 Fighter Pilot Ace who flew under command of the Red Baron. When the Baron was shot down by Aussie troops, Fat Boy Goering lead the Baron’s Flying Circus. During the1946 Nuremberg War Crimes Trial, he defended himself effectively against US, Russian and British lawyers. Sentenced to Death by Hanging. True to Churchill’s advice, Hermann also committed suicide.
I imagine Winnie would have chuckled and fired up another Cuban, when he was told of the arrest of Hermann by US military police:
“Hermann was wearing a woman’s silk kimonos, French knickers, long hair, and painted fingernails: He was also completely off his face on morphine.“
US MP Arrest Report Fat Boy not so Slim
Notorious propagandists don’t always come dressed like successful seemingly well-meaning politicians.
Hermann had the usual NAZI distain for the views of the German people. He also speaks to the evil power of propaganda:
I seek not to be an apologist for old fat boy Hermann. But as an example, that evil propaganda is not just the tactic of ignorant sociopaths. A fact we may forget after all these years of laughing at Donald Trump.
Speer Defense – I should have known but I didn’t.
Albert Speer, Hitler’s architect – A man of exceptional logistical talent and extraordinary revolting judgement in political friends.
Albert Speer, Hitler’s Architect – Built propaganda.
Speer was a propagandist, not words like the slimy Goebbels, but architecture and political rallies on a grand scale. Speer designed ‘Germania’, Hitler’s vision for a European/World capital that eclipsed anything Pericles imagined, with or without a Grecian Urn full of retsina. A capital that would for 2000 years, demonstrate the superiority, power and authority of NAZI Germany:
‘Germania’ – Hitler’s Propaganda on a Massive Scale
Germania was never conceived, Speer’s model disappeared in ashes, in consequence of Allied Bombing. Much like most German cities and all of Hitler’s NAZI evil vision. Contemporary propagandists of the Neo-Nazi, and White Nationalist variety, never seem to mention how Time Travel reveals the ashen consequences of their nonsense.
Speer’s Cathedral of Light – All smoke and mirrors.
Speer’s built propaganda works, ‘The Cathedral of Light’, featured in Nazi Party rallies. It consisted of 130 anti-aircraft searchlights, at intervals of 12 meters, aimed skyward to create a series of vertical bars surrounding the audience. Speer described the effect. “The feeling was of a vast room, with the beams serving as mighty pillars of infinitely light outer walls”. The British Ambassador to Germany, Sir Neville Henderson, described it as, “Both solemn and beautiful… like being in a cathedral of ice”. Henderson, quintessentially British establishment, should have known better: Propaganda often appears as seductive entertainment.
Cool as Speer’s ‘Cathedral’ may have been, it was all smoke and literally mirrors, the world should have reacted to the chilling message of hate and domination! Humility seems an excellent DADA principle.
NAZI Cathedral of Light – Illuminating Evil Propaganda
In the 1920’s and 1930 Speer was a crap unsuccessful architect. A period when German architecture, design and engineering was world leading. Innovative, focused on solving real problems, and creating healthy affordable environments for the common people. Hitler condemned this, declaring it Marxist, immoral and decadent. Speer’s neo classical exaggerations arrived! German architects, designers and engineers fled to the US in droves – Contributing mightily to US economic success post war. Today’s neo-Nazis and white nationalist propaganda, never seems to mention that driving away critical talent is an inevitable reaction. Talent gone – toadies remain.
In consequence of his logistical genius, Speer became Hitler’s Armaments and Production Minster. The dubious distinction of producing more weapons in the last 12 months under massive, allied air raids, then in the preceding years. Speer also faced the 1946 Nuremberg War Crimes Trial, it seems he never knew of the Holocaust (dubious), but was responsible for the abuse, starvation and death of thousands in his industry. Speer received a 25-year sentence in solitary and served every day. Russia objected hypocritically: “The US, spared Speer from hanging in return for the secrets of his logistics”. No doubt these Russian ‘vodka sours’, were not a sense of thwarted desire for justice, but because US Security captured Speer first! Abundant hypocrisy and propaganda are long standing comrades in solidarity.
Albert Speer was charming, quick witted and urbane: Also, self-seeking and ruthless. Propagandists come in many forms. And Russian President Putin is the contemporary worst! Putin is also the current world’s greatest hypocrite. A subject I discussed in my Postcard, ‘Fools, heroes, and Villains’.
Russian for Dummies.
Putin controls Russian Propaganda, what he says goes and is repeated!
In some ways, Russian propaganda builds on Soviet Cold War–era techniques, with an emphasis on obfuscation and on getting targets to act in the interests of the propagandist without realizing that they have done so. In other ways, it is completely new and driven by the characteristics of the contemporary information environment. Russia has taken advantage of technology and available media in ways that would have been inconceivable during the Cold War. It’s tools and channels now include the internet, social media, and the evolving landscape of professional and amateur journalism and media outlets. It is international, effective, far reaching, a firehose of falsehood – And Putin controls it all, what he says goes and is repeated!
Now we are back in 2023, is there any self-protection against propaganda?
Conclusion: Defence Against the Dark Arts.
I would like to suggest keep yourself informed. But that’s hard, we are all very busy and effective contemporary propaganda, as Putin uses, is much more sophisticated than silly slogan bearing baseball caps. EG: Russian Propaganda Robots (BOTS) are just as likely to slam this Post. Which explains why Siobhan O’Reilly of Kilkenny, is always bagging me online. I thought it was my endless charm and wit!
Winston Churchill’s advice, ignore the words, focus on the actions is dependable. But in the case of your precious vote, the actions come after your vote, the damage may be done.
So, then I remember the old adage: “If it sounds too good to be true, it probably is”. Remember propaganda is trying to deceive you into supporting something your rational mind would reject. Propaganda promises quick fixes, adult rational people don’t willingly believe in quick fixes, do they? Tragically if the propaganda is effective, they do. 74,222,958 US Citizens voted for the MAGA baseball cap!
To trace the origins of that old adage requires time travel back to 1580, with Thomas Lupton’s ‘Sivquila’. I would suggest getting a copy of Thomas’ work, but this is the only piece of wisdom it contains. Unless of course your house is infected with fleas, wolves, demons, witches, and sorcery. Thomas has plenty of quick fixes for these common problems. So yes, Thomas was also a propagandist, the adage that travelled down to us was firmly aimed at the Catholic Church and its promise of salvation.
I will leave you with old Winnie’s wisdom to back yourself, but even that seems not as it appears!
A previous Postcard ‘Reluctant Heros – Hate, compassion, and daring’, introduced Raphael Oimbari, a Papuan New Guinean who represents many thousands like himself who cared for, carried, and maintained Australian troops in the vicious fighting on the Kokoda Track, Papua New Guinea in WW2. Raphael was a ‘Fuzzy Wuzzy Angel‘,(Wiki has an excellent in-depth report) although the Aussie Diggers just called him mate. Men like Raphael were the unsung heroes of this important military campaign. No commendations and little formal recognition found their way to Raphael’s jungle home. Another unsung hero worked alongside Raphael, Dr Geoffrey Hampden, we will meet him soon. This is their story, in a much-abbreviated form.
Nothing is ever as it seems. This statement has inspired my interest in time travel, IE: the study of history. The itching desire to find the truth, what really happened through time. Often our school education perpetuated myths and half-truths, even complete bull shit. Driven by the motives of government, religion or such. We learn things from our parents, siblings, and friends. Often, they speak through bias, or perhaps complete ignorance. Contemporary social media has made bull shit and fake news a constant attack on objective fact. Nothing new in this as Mark Twain, reminds us time travelling from the 1890’s:
“I was educated once – it took me years to get over it.”
Mark Twain 1890.
Mark Twain – Truth often just isn’t so.
Heroes, Lies, and Half Truths enter my World.
Books and the printed word have a certain legitimacy. We often readily accept their contents, even though its more frequently biased than objectively true. Even Winston Churchill, Britain’s World War 2 Prime Minister and prolific writer knew this to be true:
“History will be kind to me, for I intend to write it myself.”
Winston Churchill.
Winston was a brilliant man, inspiring Leadership skills, remaining studied to this day. However, he was also deeply flawed, and not beyond spinning ripping yarns of self-promotion.
Old Winnie could be a notorious BS Artist.
So it was with the Fuzzy Wuzzy Angels, I first learned of them at school in 1971. The ‘Queensland School Reader’ read like a travel blog promoting the former glory of the British Empire, Winston Churchill would have been proud. Hero’s and heroine’s exploits lived in vivid detail, and an expectation planted that we would aspire to be like them. Most of them were men involved in war, or other colonization pursuits.
Honour, courage, bravery and loyalty to Queen and Country. Worthy aspirational traits, well if you ignore Australian republican aspirations.
But it inspired me and prompted my lifetime interest in time travel.
Australian School Textbook 1960 – For Queen and Country
Not so much lies as sparing on objective truth.
Such textbooks were anachronistic, something from a previous time, like Australia in 1890. 1970 Australia, involvement in yet another Asia war, this time in Vietnam. Australians, a growing number, believed war was not noble, or honorable, just savage and this time unjustified. Historical documents like the ‘Queensland School Reader’, provide a waypoint in time against which Australia’s progress as a multicultural society can be measured. The problem was that it only reported the good stuff, the history filtered through the ruling white establishment. So yes, the Papuans who assisted Australian troops in WW2 were brave, and loyal. But that’s not anywhere near the complete objective story.
The following summarizes objective facts omitted from the Fuzzy Wuzzy Angel story:
Often little more than slaves, driven by Aussie masters;
Physically beaten and intimidated;
Worked like beasts of burden;
Poorly fed and paid, often not at all;
And many simply melted away into the jungle;
Many wanted nothing to do with this Australian war; though
Many were armed and deadly soldiers, as brave as the Aussies.
To understand something of the Papuans, let’s review where they came from, and some brief history:
Fuzzy Wuzzy Angels and European Empire Building.
Papuans arrived some 60,000 years previously having walked from Africa. Their lives did not change all that much until the dreaded European empire builders turned up in the 1880’s. Noting that the Dutch had taken and controlled the west, Dutch New Guinea from 1660 till 1966. The British colony, not yet the independent Australia, grabbed the southern half of east New Guinea, Germany the northeast. The Europeans had no interest in the welfare of Raphael, other than his cheap labor on cocoa and coffee plantations. Of course, European Christian missionaries followed, their interest being the saving of Raphael’s soul. No one bothered asking Raphael if his soul was in peril, but it certainly was now!
1930’s Papua was all under the protection of the Aussies.
With the 1914 outbreak of World War 1, Britain decided the presence of a German colony in the Pacific was unacceptable. The newly formed independent Australian Navy steamed North to forcibly expel the German presence. After a violent but brief encounter, Australia found itself in charge of another large piece of someone else’s Country. It would remain so until 1975 when Papua finally achieved its independence.
There was off course several years, 1941 till 1943, when the Japanese Empire decided that their ‘Greater East Asia Co-Prosperity Sphere’, absolutely required invasion of Papua and a march down the Kokoda Track to secure Australia. Japan’s fine words actually meant: ‘Japan willprosper, whilst the rest of Asia simply COoperates‘.
And the positive impact on Papuans of all this frantic European activity? Diddly squat! Raphael and his village effectively gained nothing but hard work for minimum wages. In 2024 Papua remains one of the Planet’s poorest Nations. Raphael’s descendants remain largely in a subsistence existence.
Fuzzy Wuzzy’s and their Aussie Mates.
In retrospect the Papuans had little reason to be loyal to their Australian colonial masters, who often treated them as second-class citizens in their own country. Nonetheless many worked until they dropped. It is said that no living soldier was ever abandoned by the carriers, not even during heavy combat. Their compassion for the wounded and sick earned them the eternal gratitude of the Australian soldiers, who called them ‘Fuzzy Wuzzy Angels’.
One of my attractions to time travel, the study of history, is its ability to inform you of the more objective truth of any subject. Let’s have a quick captain cook at what Raphael actually thought of his Aussie Mates:
Reluctant heroes – Raphael and George
Go away, leave us alone!
After the war researchers were astonished to learn that Papuans were united in one opinion:
“We just want the ‘whites’, Japanese and Australians to go away, leave us alone.“
Raphael Oimbari
Australia did, but not until 1975.
Such an opinion, if broadly known would have been a shock to the wartime generation, who never gave much thought to what colonial rule meant for and did to indigenous populations. But,
This opinion should take nothing away from the commitment, bravery, sacrifice, and endurance that men like Raphael provided to and for wounded Aussie boys.
Many Aussie boys survived combat due to men like Raphael.
Benevolent masters versus Japanese Prosperity.
Australia treated men like Raphael as at best very low paid workers, if you can call rice and tobacco pay. But one opinion unified the Australian troops with their Papuan load bearers – Disdain of the Japanese! Quite simply the Papuans hated the Japanese – Who stole their food, raped their women, made them slave labourers, and killed indiscriminately. I guess by comparison Aussies were benevolent masters!
My school textbooks failed to mention that the Fuzzy Wuzzy were not just beasts of burden, they were also brave warriors. As much so as the Aussie troops, and they played a completely unrecorded role in stopping the Japanese advance.
The Papuan Infantry Battalion (PIB)
The Papuan Infantry Battalion was raised in 1940 by the Australian Army. Though all Officers and most NCO’s were Australian or New Zealanders, it should take nothing away from the bravery and courage of the Papuan troopers. Most significantly, few Australians even know of the Fuzzy Wuzzy Warriors. History was limited to portraying the loyal black servants of the dominant white Australians – History itself is more frequently biased than objectively true.
What little I knew of the PIB was of a poorly equipped force lead by a ‘Dad’s Army’ of old Australian Papuan resident plantation owners.
Dad’s Army or Fuzzy Wuzzy Warriors
The objective truth is that such a Dad’s Army knew the rugged unmapped Papuan jungles as their back yard. As coast watches reporting, by air dropped radios, on the movement of Japanese forces, they contributed critical intelligence to the successful defeat of the Japanese. But then there were lethal Fuzzy Wuzzy Warriors.
Green Shadows and Fuzzy Warriors.
Soldiers of the Papuan Infantry Battalion (PIB) were the first to offer resistance to the Japanese invasion of their country. PIB Captain Harold Jesser said that the Battalion was called the ‘green shadows’ because of an entry found in a Japanese diary in Papua.
“The local natives moved silently in the jungle, inflicting casualties on us-and then are gone, like green shadows.“
Japanese War Dairy.
Fuzzy Warriors – Tool of Trade, automatic weapons and machete!
Sergeant John Ehava, won the Distinguished Conduct Medal, the highest bravery award given to a Papuan during World War two. At the end of the Papuan campaign an element of the Papuan Infantry Battalion under Ehava was ambushing Japanese who were escaping north along the coast towards Salamaua. Ehava’s award citation describes what followed.
“On February 8, 1943, at the Kumusi River mouth a patrol under Sergeant Ehava attacked an enemy party attempting to cross the river. During this engagement Sergeant Ehava saw another enemy party approaching on his left. He immediately detached himself from his patrol and, at great personal risk, took up a commanding position and armed with a Bren gun held his fire until the enemy was less than 40 yards distant. He repulsed the attack and personally killed 30 of the enemy.”
Distinguished Conduct Medal (DCM) Citation.
Men like Sergeant Ehava fought as bravely as any of the Aussie Diggers who have been written into my Country’s mythology. Sadly, and dishonestly their stories simply were not passed on. It seems the white fellas were more interested in their own place in history.
Another Reluctant Hero:
Men like Raphael had one white fella in their corner: Doctor Geoffrey Hampden “Doc” Vernon Military Cross (MC).
Geoffrey Hampden “Doc” Vernon Military Cross (MC).
Geoffrey was an Australian doctor and surgeon, resident in Papua growing coffee and providing medical services to remote communities. World War 1 had smashed enough war and slaughter into Geoffrey’s life. From March 1915 to August 1918, he served as a Regimental Medical Officer with the Australian Light Horse at Gallipoli and in the Middle East, where he was awarded the Military Cross for devotion to duty under fire. When the Japanese knocked on the door, Geoffrey lied about his age, enlisted again, pulled on his boots – He was 61!
Geoffrey may have been deaf, in consequence of a near miss with a Turkish artillery shell at Gallipoli, but nothing wrong with his legs – He was one of the few Aussies who could keep pace with Raphael up the brutal Kokoda Track. He also had command of pidgin English, the language of the Papuans – his years of diligent care of the Papuans meant that they had enormous respect for this skinny old man.
Raphael and the Aussie Myth.
Men like Raphael were held in great respect by my Grandparent’s and Parent’s generations, somewhat less by my own, and tragically rarely known to my children’s.
The respect and reverence for men like Raphael is captured in the following verse, written by a soldier of the 39th, which I had to learn in school in the 1970’s:
Many a mother in Australia, When the busy day is done, Sends a prayer to the Almighty For the keeping of her son, Asking that an Angel guide him And bring him safely back Now we see those prayers are answered On the Owen Stanley track, For they haven’t any halos, Only holes slashed in the ears, And with faces worked by tattoos, With scratch pins in their hair, Bringing back the wounded, Just as steady as a hearse, Using leaves to keep the rain off And as gentle as a nurse.
The problem with such myths, is they disguise the truth. They invent a white man’s view on what happened to Papuan’s who really had little if any choice in the matter.
Raphael Oimbari said in 1982:
“We worked hard despite all the danger. We were promised compensation and I ask now for what we were promised. Australian government said you work, you will be like us, but it hasn’t happened. Work for us, we all sit down at the same table, same spoon, same food hasn’t happened. Worked day and night so that things would change, I thought of nothing else. I worked hard for nothing. Australian men went home and got pensions. I’m just rubbish. Old men like me are dying without getting anything … nobody counted how many of us were killed.”
Raphael Oimbari.
And with that quote Raphael disappeared from history, or did he?
Raphael and George – Lest we Forget.
Fuzzy Wuzzy Angels – Often reluctant, yet nonetheless Unsung Heroes.
The truth of Raphael’s words came home to me in researching this article, easy to find precisely how may Aussie (625) and Japanese (10,000) boys died on the Kokoda Track, not even an estimate in regard Papuans!
Alongside the romanticized myth lies a contradictory and unpleasant truth of what life was really like for some Papuan carriers. They were not all volunteers, nor were they all treated kindly with the respect and friendliness that the myth suggests. It has remained in Australia’s public consciousness with varying significance, yet always concealing the negative aspects of this historical narrative. What is most important is to recognise that without the help of the Papuan carriers, reluctant help in many cases: Australia may have had a very different outcome on the Kokoda Track.
Reluctant? Perhaps – Tough and Enduring, definitely!
And what of Dr. Geoffrey Vernon MC?
Geoffrey followed the 39th Battalion up the Track. From the first contact with the Japanese, Dr. Vernon placed himself just behind the front line. He surprised an old Warrant Officer friend from WW1 when walking up the track and out of the mist he simply said in classic Aussie laconic understatement:
“Jack, I heard there was some action here and thought you may need some assistance. Where do I start?”
Dr. Geoffrey Vernon. MC.
Without Geoffrey’s immediate aid, many more boys would have been lost or indeed suffered more than they already had. Dr. Vernon similarly cared for the Fuzzy Wuzzy Angels who gave unrelenting care at tremendous loss in evacuating Aussie Troops down that horrible, hated Kokoda Track. Geoffrey survived Kokoda, how he managed to evacuate wounded, and reestablish front line triage, with the constant moving warfare up and down the Track, well that is indeed the work of an unsung hero.
Dr. Vernon simply largely disappeared from Australian History; Geoffrey died in Papua of malaria in 1946.
Fuzzy Wuzzy Warriors – Lest we Forget.
In June 2008, and Australian senator called for Australia’s Parliament to give official recognition to Papua New Guineans’ courage and contributions to the war effort.
I was stunned to learn that Australia has not officially recognized these wonderful Papuan nationals who saved the lives of Australian servicemen. They carried stretchers, stores and sometimes wounded diggers directly on their shoulders over some of the toughest terrain in the world. Without them I think the Kokoda campaign would have been far more difficult than it was.
In 2009, the Australian government began awarding the ‘Fuzzy Wuzzy Commemorative Medallion‘ to living Papua New Guineans who assisted the Australian war effort, usually bringing survivors and their families to Port Moresby for ceremonial presentations.
Let me introduce two reluctant heroes, Private George Whittington and Raphael Oimbari. Raphael and George met in 1942, they would have preferred not to. This Postcard tells the story of men such as these. A story in our troubled times I believe it’s worth remembering.
Reluctant heroes – Raphael and George on the Kokoda Track, WW2, New Guinea
39th Militia Battalion- very reluctant Aussie heroes.
George was part of the 2/10th Australian Infantry Battalion, professional soldiers, who relieved the decimated reserve 39th Militia Battalion, who had slowed the Japanese advance down the Kokoda Track, Papua New Guinea in 1942. George though shot in the face, survived, but died in 1943 of scrub typhus.
Both George and Raphael were reluctant heroes. George is a representative of all the young Aussie men, whose fight, wounds, and death on the Kokoda Track became legend. Raphael, the thousands of Papuans who carried wounded Aussie boys out of the bloody combat, back to the comparative safety of Port Moresby. What is a reluctant hero?
How do you recognize a reluctant hero?
Don’t take my word for it. I’m a notorious tale spinner and bull shit artist. So, in respect to yourself the reader, as follows a quote from Jessica Morrell who actually knows about such things:
“A reluctant hero is a tarnished or ordinary man with several faults or a troubled past, and he is pulled reluctantly into the story, or into heroic acts. During the story, he rises to the occasion, sometimes even vanquishing a mighty foe.”
Jessica Morrell in ‘Bullies, Bastards and Bitches’.
Why my interest in legitimate heroes?
I remain interested and proud of the Aussie reluctant heroes. National heroes create national myths. Such concepts are important to a Countries identity. Maintaining their legacy will require honesty, transparency and integrity. National mythology remains a consistent theme of my pondering Postcards. ‘Bastard Horses and Scared Young Men’, explores this further. Primarily because they typically are ordinary people, people who eventually say: ‘Enough, I don’t like what’s happening, I’m going to stop it”. I’m also very cynical about ‘classic heroes’, that some politicians pretend to be, that pretend they are our salvation, that they by stint of their ‘specialness’, can make things better. Sounds like bull shit to me! But, genuine classic heroes, well we are going to meet one of those, but also a small group of reluctant heroes. Firstly, a little time travel back to 1942 and the Kokoda Track:
Where the hell is the bloody Kokoda Track?
The Kokoda Track runs over the rugged steep inhospitable Owen Stanley Range, Papua New Guinea. Which in 1942 was an Australian protectorate and had been since the opening days of WW1 when Australia destroyed a German garrison in occupation. Papua had been a German colony from 1884 till 1914.
The Japanese Imperial Forces sent a naval force to seize Port Moresby, the capital of Papua, a strategy designed to separate Australia from the United States. However, subsequently Japan received a beating in that Battle of the Coral Sea. Inconsequence their second option prevailed, a force march over the Own Stanley Range.
Kokoda Track – Bastard of a Place.
Kokoda – What a bastard of a place!
The Kokoda Track was 150 kilometres of hell! Even today, with modern light backpacks, structured trails and professional guides – 10 days, and that’s only one half, Ower’s Corner to Kokoda. The rainforest is thick, dark, steep and impenetrable, a soldier wandering off 5 metres to relieve his dysentery, risked not ever finding his mates again.
Compared to the great land battles of WW2: Kursk, Alamein, Guadalcanal – Kokoda was a skirmish. A skirmish that killed 625 Australian, 10,000 Japanese boys, and an unknown number of Papuan New Guineans. Kokoda descended into a clash of cultures. A relatively new Australian society, versus a centuries old Japanese culture of martial pursuits. And the poor bloody local Papuans found themselves smack in the middle.
Kokoda was fought with rifle, pistol, bayonet, machine guns, small mortars, fists, and teeth. There were no tanks, no air support for resupply or evacuation – No Australian artillery to break up Japanese attacks, yet somehow the Japanese had manhandled their own artillery up there! Another aspect of Kokoda, complete underestimation of the professional Japanese Forces: We would more aptly call it racism!
Death, torture and yes, the human taboo – cannibalism!
Kokoda displays all the horrendous, horror of men at war: Death, mutilation, hunger, sickness, disease, murder, rape, torture and yes, cannibalism.
Cannibalism! Though the men of the 39th had no delusions about war, they knew it was not ‘cricket’. But they were totally unprepared for the Japanese culture of war. In the crisis of nearly being overrun, a group of Aussie wounded were left behind to the tender mercy of the Japanese. A counterattack drove the Japanese back, the 39th discovered all their mates had been tortured as bayonet practice, slain and then some eaten. Kokoda was a clash of cultures, much like Ukraine and Russia. Kokoda’s fighting had no limits, no pity or compassion – There were few if any POWs on either side after that episode. 10,000 young Japanese boys marched down the Kokoda Track towards Australia. Only 600 would ever see the Cherry Blossom in Japan ever again.
23rd July 1942, theAustralian 39th Battalion first contacted the might of Japan at Awala, small extremely remote village on the Kokoda Track. The American Fleet lay smashed at Pearl Harbour, Singapore had fallen – All seemed lost and dark. Japan was rampaging toward Australia – In their way the 39th – A Bloody Rag Tag Bunch of Reluctant Heroes!
39th Militia Battalion – Boys and old men, reluctant heroes all.
Off to Kokoda then. WTF is Kokoda!
The soldiers of the 39th were part time reserve soldiers, some only just 18, many were well past 60. Australia introduced conscription in 1939, but it only applied to the Militia, the professional Army remained all volunteers. Militia members often joined the permanent Army, many didn’t. Some of the 39th had been passed over by the regular army. Too old, broken down, misfits, hopelessly unfit, lame, crippled, lacking fighting spirit, and reluctant. Fighting in Australia was one thing, but Africa no thanks, see the Militia could not by Law be sent outside Australia. The Lads had seen what WW1 did to their fathers and uncles – War was no longer some grand adventure. Understandable reluctance, yes!
Then some bright politician had an idea. If Papuan New Guinea was an Australian protectorate, well pretty much part of Australia – Off to Papua it is then lads!
So, the lads found themselves crawling and scratching up Kokoda, very little training – a few rounds through a 303, old weapons as befits ‘simple’ reservists. Clad in highly visible khaki uniforms in a sea of dark green – It really was a desperate measure! Australia’s professional army, Australia’s Imperial Force (2AIF) was fighting in Africa, would take time to ship them back. Assuming we could get around Winston Churchill, he did everything he could to block the return of the AIF.
So, there we are, reluctant heroes in place, in hell on earth and all hell is about to let rip.
How did the Australian Government lead such reluctant heroes?
The answer is not very well, well certainly not at supreme command level.
General Douglas Macarthur was the supreme allied commander based Down Under. Had been since the Japanese surprise attack on Pearl Harbour and Douglas’ abandonment of his own troops in the Philippines.The US decided it needed an unsinkable aircraft carrier – What about a little place called Australia?
Winston Churchill did not help. Winnie, you said Singapore was invincible, now we are about to be overrun by some very brutal effective lads from the Land of the Rising Sun – We like our own land of glorious sunset plains and vision splendid, thanks a lot! And as for knicking our AIF because of some equally effective German Panzer commander in Africa – Might just call Washington.
US General Macarthur – All mouthy corn cob, no trousers!
Two Generals with big heads – But NFI about Kokoda.
Macarthur was all corn cob and personal self-seeking puffery – Just perfect for his aspiration to be the next US President!
Macarthur broke the cardinal rule of warfare, know your terrain. Douglas infamously said of Kokoda:
“It’s just like Leonidas the Spartan, at the Pass of Thermopylae, two old *iggers with shot guns could hold it.”
General Douglas Macarthur. Description of the Kokoda Track.
I’m sure Australia’s Prime Minister John Curtin, wished the British War Cabinet under Churchill was still in charge. But John has another blow hard to contend with, Australian grown, Field Marshall Sir Thomas Albert Blamey.
Thomas Blamey, another blow hard.
Field Marshall Sir Thomas Albert Blamey, the Australian, supreme Australian commander, under ‘Old Corn Cob’, well he had no more idea of the horrendous conditions our reluctant heroes were facing at Kokoda. Not sure what ‘Field Marshall’ signified as he certainly knew nothing about the ‘Field’ of Kokoda, and little of infantry tactics.
Thomas said of the 39th:
“You ran like rabbits, remember it’s the rabbit who runs who gets shot, not the man with the gun.”
Field Marshall Sir Thomas Albert Blamey
Blamey was describing the 39th’s simply brilliant series of textbook tactical withdrawals, more of that soon. Thomas thought he could run Kokoda from Army HQ, Brisbane. Some 2000 kilometres away, an awful long distance in 1942. Thomas did more brown nosing, than nosing around such that he had appropriate knowledge of the Kokoda logistical obstacles.
Sir, Should I call you President?
Kokoda and Legitimate Leadership.
In Blamey it is hard to imagine a worst leader to be in charge of Aussie troops, However,
At the front the 39th were led by NCO’s and Officers who were simply first class. They really were ‘Dad’s Army’, veterans of WW1, they had reenlisted expecting to pass on their knowledge to their sons in boot camp. Another round of combat carnage was the last thing they expected. They lead from the front, statistics prove that. -Officer and NCO casualties were 15 times higher than in Africa fighting Rommel. If they were reluctant, they did not show it. Men like Colonel Ralph Honner who took command of the 39th, replacing the previously killed CO.
Shakesperean Drama on the Kokoda Battlefield.
So how did the 39th Perform:
From the first contact on 23rd July 1942, The 39th could not possibly block the Japanese, so they fought a series of textbook tactical withdrawals back to the Village of Isurava, where on 26 August 1942 the full-time professional soldiers of the AIF started to arrive and fill in their depleted ranks.
Together the 39th and the AIF continued their tactical withdrawal, until on the 05 September 1942 the 39th were relieved – All remaining 185 of them.
39th Battalion – Scruffy, Knocked about – Not Beaten!
The AIF dug in at Imita Ridge on 18 September 1942, the planned last stand, there would be no more withdrawal. But the Japanese were defeated. But there were no words for ‘retreat’ nor ‘tactical withdrawal’ in the Japanese Imperial Field Manual – They were simply instructed to ‘Advance to the Rear’.
No casual withdrawal, as the AIF chased them all the way back to Gona.
So, what was so heroic about the reluctant heroes of the 39th?
There are no recorded grand classic heroic actions by the soldiers of the 39th. But their big brothers of the AIF, at Isurava, they displayed plenty of that. Take Charlie McCallum’s action in covering the withdrawal of 39th and his own mates from the AIF:
“Charlie had already been wounded three times when his platoon was ordered to withdraw just as the Japanese were about to swamp their position on the high ground at Isurava. Charlie held and fired his Bren gun with his right hand and carried a Thompson submachine gun in the other hand. When his magazine ran out on the Bren, he swung up the Tommy gun with his left hand and continued to cut down the surging Japanese as he changed magazines on the Bren. When the Tommy gun was empty, he used the Bren gun again, and continued his one-man assault until all his comrades were clear. When he knew his mates were clear, Charlie fired a final burst and calmly moved off back down the Track.”
Extract from Charlie’s Victoria Cross nomination.
The Teamwork of heroes.
The 39th’s heroics were typically not of the individualistic self-sacrificing type, though there was plenty of that. Theirs was one of teamwork, the ability to learn fast and adapt in life-threatening, soul-destroying conditions. The fact that they mastered one of the most complex of infantry manoeuvres, the successful tactical withdrawal, and kept it over 7 weeks is quite remarkable – Many of these men had not even fired a 303 rifle until the voyage to Papua.
On the evening of the Japanese attack at Isurava, a Platoon size group of 39th seriously wounded had been sent, in the care of Papuans, back along the track to Moresby. On hearing the escalating din of battle from Isurava, the platoon about turned, hopped, crawled and staggered back to rejoin the fight. One had no foot, the other a bullet in the throat, and a third a forearm blown off.
One of the young 39th soldiers said:
“We never did it for King and Country – Fuck that. We did it because the 39th expected it of us.”
Unidentified digger of the 39th.
Lost, crippled, and bloodied – Not so reluctant heroes now.
Four days prior a 39th forward patrol had been driven off the Track by Japanese units surging on Isurava. Surviving the murderous, groping jungle, they emerged back on the Track.
Their Commanding Officer Col Ralph Honner described what happened then:
“It was enough to make a man weep, to see those poor skinny bastards hobble in on their bleeding legs. On hearing of the news that the 39th and AIF were fighting for their lives at Isurava. They turned and hurried off back up the track to Isurava, as fast as their crippled feet could carry them”.
Colonel Ralph Honner
Shakespearian elegance in the jungle of death.
How did the 39th perform? Strewth, all bloody rippers!
Col Ralph Honner, with much more Shakespearian elegance, addressed the last parade of the 39th on 05 September 1942:
One hell of a After Action Review.
Lt Col Ralp Honner’s address has understandably become a significant event in Australian nation building. The Australian made 2006 movie ‘Kokoda’ brilliantly and tear jerkingly recreates this address in the short extract.
The End of Reluctance:
May we never forget that common ordinary men can do extraordinary things. They can beat the odds.
Yes, we need classic individual heroes, men like Prime Minister Churchill, and President Zelensky – People who inspire us to keep going. Men and women who would rather stand against evil then hitch a ride away from danger.
But, more than ever we need everyday heroes, people prepared to stand up and resist oppression, evil and all the crap things in our world – Even if they start out somewhat reluctant!
Spiritualism Indonesia. (Ok this is me. Well, me in a somewhat perplexed, cynical, and whimsical mood, which is much my permanent state. I've just turned 61 and 3 years into retirement as I start to write my 30th Postcard. This Postcard was intended to discuss my ponderings on various subjects during my October 2023 adventure in Indonesia. Surprisingly for me it turned into a discussion of spiritualism in Indonesia. I've explored Indonesia many times previously. I've written previously of my adventures there, one of these can be read at this link.
I'm the least spiritual person I know, unless we are speaking spirits from the fine waters of Scotland or Kentucky. Though I was raised traditionally Irish Catholic, well it never really worked for me. Putting aside my observations of rampant hypocrisy and lashings of violence dished out during my foundational school years, my connection to God could be summarized as: "At my birth someone forgot to make the required phone connection between the temporal and spiritual planes".
So let me begin by setting the locational context, some historical background, and finish with a little discussion of the adventures that unfolded)
Adventure in Yogyakarta, Java Island, Indonesia
Spiritualism Indonesia.
Spiritualism Indonesia, what would I know? I’m coming to the end of my October 2023 month spent in Indonesia. My intent was to pursue my usual writing subjects: History; and how it impacts the present, politics, architecture, culture, food, and commerce. I certainly experienced all those things that my part of Indonesia had to offer, but something unexpected happened. I experienced, for me anyway, profound human spiritualism in Indonesia. So, I’m skipping my usual subjects for the moment, whilst I share some of that experience. I’ve also written about spiritualism on the island of Bali, Indonesia. That Postcard is available by following this link.
With a population of 278 million, Indonesia is the world’s largest Muslim country. There is no official state religion, but only six religions are recognized in the Constitution: Islam (87%), Catholicism (3%), Protestantism (7.5%), Buddhist (0.73%), Hinduism (1.7%), and Confucianism (0.03%). This does not mean that Indonesia is intolerant of other religions, far from it.
Indonesia – Pancasila and religion.
‘Pancasila’ is the first principle of Indonesia’s philosophical foundation. The concept requires citizens to state their belief in “The one and almighty God”. So yes spiritualism in Indonesia is government business.
“Pancasila is an explicit recognition of divine providence, it is meant as a principle on how to live together in a religiously diverse society.“
Constitutional Court Indonesia.
All religions are generally tolerated. But there are areas with overwhelming Muslim majorities which are fundamentalist in nature, they enforce Sharia Law.
Welcoming and accepting of all? Well not quite. The Indonesian government has a discriminatory attitude towards its many tribal religions, atheism, and agnosticism. Appropriate time to mention my own lack of recognized religiosity. Most people would describe me an atheist, infidel, or simply a nonbeliever. That’s correct, though I would prefer the term fellow traveller, as I’m certainly not a spiritual anarchist, I have always sensed a spiritual side to life. Traveling internationally requires risk management of many issues: political disturbances, hygiene, financial scams, personal security, and notably in Indonesia, to keep your lack of formal religion to yourself. Previously I discussed my preparations for this Indonesia adventure at this link.
Spiritualism Indonesia and the risk to non-believers.
Blasphemy remains a punishable offence in Indonesia, and it applies to citizens and foreigners. If I were to speak openly in Indonesia about my personal religious views, I would indeed be guilty of blasphemy. I’m not stupid, I’m also not in the business of recruiting others to my view, so I never discuss such things. A blasphemy charge in a province that enforces Sharia Law would be very serious. Such a charge against a tourist is unlikely in most of Indonesia, but it does happen. EG: Russian tourists on the Indonesian Island of Bali, have been deported for being naked, drunk, and disorderly in Hindu Temples. Charged under a provision of the Blasphemy Laws. And it’s not just temples. Indonesian religious beliefs are taken very seriously.
Alina Fazleeva, Russian yogi influencer, was deported and barred from entering Indonesia for six months. She offended Balinese Hindus by posting images of herself posing naked on Babakan Temples’ 700-year-old sacred tree.
Might be Art in the West – In Indonesia it can be blasphemy.
Where were you on 7th October 2023?
On October 7th I was sitting in a Cafe in Kuta on the Island of Bali, a short stop over before an internal flight to Yogyakarta. (Wikipedia, provides an excellent introduction) Most people are familiar with Jakarta, Indonesia’s crowded, busy capital City, so it’s easy, due to the similar name, to confuse it with the smaller city the subject of my journey. Yogyakarta is much smaller, but its history, and culture make it just as interesting. I’ve previously written of my adventures in Yogyakarta in several Postcards, which can be viewed at this link.
“Sometimes, perhaps not often, all your stars align, life flows easily and fluidly. Other days the stars won’t either align or shine. All you can do is hang tough, take a pause, take the ‘high ground’ reorientate, get back up, have another go, and remember. Someone always has more serious setbacks than yourself”.
Peter Veal. Facebook Post Oct 23.
Lumpia, a Bintang and a real Postcard.
Hamas attacks Israel – Hate, murder, and retribution.
Then of course I heard of the Hamas terrorist attack on Israel. How prophetic my words, now in addition to Ukraine, Israel and Palestine would feel the destructive violence unleashed by ignorance, jealousy, greed, racism, and bigotry. In Bali, The Hindu Island of the Gods, as it is described, well I was feeling none of Indonesia’s spiritualism, just sad and hopeless about humanity or lack of it, certainly my usual whimsical manner had passed.
We considered heading home to Australia, prompted by the angry protests that broke out in Kuta, and images of protests in Indonesia’s capital Jakarta. Australia too was seeing similar protests erupt.
Indonesia support for Palestine is strong – Not so much for Hamas.
Australian protests at the Sydney Opera House in support of Palestine.
We decided to push on. After all we are neither Palestinian nor Israeli, Yogyakarta is not as extreme as Jakarta, and we hoped we could simply avoid such protests, and I guess we thought our Australian and New Zealand passports would see us through. So off we went.
Next Stop Yogyakarta.
Welcome to Yogyakarta: Birthplace of spiritualism Indonesia.
A real Postcard depicting the cultural variety of Yogyakarta.
The City of Yogyakarta on the island of Java, Yogyakarta is regarded as an important centre for classical Javanese fine arts and culture such as ballet, batik textiles, drama, literature, music, poetry, silversmithing, visual arts, and wayang puppetry. Yogyakarta is proud to be the location of the Planet’s oldest and largest Buddhist and Hindu Temples. Renowned as a centre of Indonesia education, Yogyakarta is home to a large student population and dozens of schools and universities.
Yogyakarta’s religious mix.
With a population of 390,000, the religious mix is a little different from Indonesia generally: Islam (82.3%), Catholicism (10.75%), Protestantism (6.5%), Hinduism (0.13%), Buddhism (0.34%), and Confucianism (0.01%). The history of the development of spiritualism Indonesia is told through its religious development.
The relative low levels of Buddhism and Hinduism is revealing when you know that firstly all of Indonesia was essentially Buddhist (4th Century AD), until arrival of Hindu traders (5th Century AD). Islam arrived in the 13th Century and gradually dominated. Buddhism became less significant; adherents became Muslim or followed the Hindus to the Island of Bali. Hindus having exited Java Island from the mid15th Century AD and established kingdoms on Bali. Today Bali has 4.4 million people of which 87% are Hindus.
The Christian population shows the influence of European colonization and empire building. Portuguese Catholicism arrived in the early 16th Century, and Dutch Protestantism in the late 16th Century. I’m not sure why at Independence from the Dutch, Indonesia decided to record Christians as Catholic and Protestant, though I suspect it was intended to ‘keep an eye’ on who was being loyal to which former European oppressor. I also suspect that nominal Indonesian Christians are as secular as most in the Western world, thus the percentage of Catholics and Protestants officially recorded, says as much about the inability to safely record yourself as atheist/agnostic as any serious commitment to those Western religions.
Borobudur: 8th Century Buddhist Temple.
Borobudur – Lost to the jungle, rediscovered by all people Sir Stanford Raffles
I’ll admit to cynicism when it comes to temple visits in Indonesia. This stems from experiences 15 year previously on the Indonesian Island of Bali. It’s impossible to visit Bali without meeting a Hindu temple or at least a Hindu altar. They are ancient, old, new, large, small, in spectacular locations, in everyday streetscapes. The temples often share one, not so endearing characteristic, they are highly commercial and monetized. Hard to appreciate another cultures spiritualism when you’re constantly pestered by touts. Commonly tour guides, and assorted spivs sell anything but enlightenment. Welcome to the not so endearing aspect of Indonesia spiritualism.
Sir Thomas Stamford Raffles – meddles in Indonesia.
So, with such trepidation, I journeyed to Borobudur. Evidence suggests that Borobudur was constructed in the 8th Century. It was subsequently abandoned following the 14th Century decline of Hindu kingdoms in Java and the Javanese conversion to Islam. Borobudur was lost to time and the jungle until rediscovery in 1814, by an unlikely historical character. Sir Thomas Stamford Raffles, the founder of Singapore, was also a dab hand at Indiana Jones style archaeology. Thomas used his power as the British ruler of Java to have the ancient temple cleared of soil and jungle. Predictably, he also started plundering its carvings, stone and specifically the heads of Buddha statues. Borobudur has been called the temple of 1000 Buddha, most of them headless. Sir Thomas Raffles is know for many things, but no one at my school mentioned his monetizing of spiritualism in Indonesia.
Borobudur has since been preserved through several restorations. The largest restoration project was completed in 1983 by the Indonesia government and UNESCO. Followed by the monument’s listing as a UNESCO World Heritage Site.
Very little architectural exploration – But human contact in spades.
In an earlier life I practiced architecture for 20 years, I quite like wandering around old buildings. And Borobudur does not disappoint. I was planning on shooting pics of Budha statues, headless and otherwise, and describing the architectural space encountered. Then I ran into the local school kids:
An awful lot of hand coding going on – I had absolutely no idea!
These children from regional villages were combining Indonesia’s spiritualism and religious history studies with ‘Interview a Foreigner Week’. How precisely the latter was to happen seemed dubious. As their English was about as good as my Bahasa Indonesian, very limited.
Rock stars are memorable – Then there is me.
My first reaction was that they had mistaken me for someone. The word ‘Rock Star’ was tossed around! Perhaps they thought I was Chris Hemsworth or ‘Thor’. Chris had after all recently been in Indonesia promoting a new movie.
A real ‘Rock Star’.
The similarity is staggering as both:
Are, Australian;
Not known for our spiritualism, Indonesia style or otherwise;
Weigh 100 Kg (220 Pounds);
Make a ‘dog’s breakfast’ of the Kings English;
He’s 40, very handsome, 190 Cm (6 foot, 3inches); I’m
61, 175 Cm (5 foot, 9inches), oh
And we are both still breathing.
Note to self, translation between languages can be deceptive. So why the interest?
Boys will be boys – Even very old examples.
Although Borobudur, is world heritage, I was one of very few foreigners present. I realized most of these children had never spoken at length with a non-Indonesian. And I spoke Bahasa with a smile. Put simply: I was a ‘Rock Star’, because these children were curious, funny, accepting of difference, and oh so willing to engage. And then I panicked! With limited language, what and how to communicate? Teenage boys – Speak the international language understood by all teenage boys: Girls, posing, bragging, and physical horse play!
That’s not a bicep, this is a bicep!
Want to look half smart? Hang with clever, intelligent, confident and ambitious women.
And then I really panicked, the Wanita arrived! And they meant business. I had noticed these young ladies hanging back from the rowdy raucous boys. Of the same age and school, they were obviously much more mature. As is the case with young women compared to their male peers. ‘Rock Star’ again, I was getting very confused. Fortunately, their English was much better than my Bahasa, what to speak about? Fashion? Jeweler? Handbags? Cool sunglasses? One look at me says, “Dude, this bloke knows nothing about fashion”.
The ‘Rock Star’ and his minders!
I need not have worried, they simply dominated the conversation, with confidence, and intent that I never expected:
How come I speak such weird English?
What’s it’s like for women in Australia?
Are there careers opportunities in Australia for women?
Are women paid the same as men?
Indonesia has a shining future with youth like this.
You get the point. These young ladies were aspirational. They wanted to go places, see things, have careers, be independent, set new parameters for Indonesian women. Above all they were curious, open, and interested in our obvious differences. They wanted to learn. And they lifted my earlier sad and hopeless mood. With kids like this, the future must be bright, we just need to decide it will be so.
Just when I thought I might get back to exploring Borobudur, the university contingent arrived. Tertiary education has increased in Indonesia, significantly so for women as it dramatically increases female employment opportunities. I at once noticed their English language fluency skills, these were the earlier teenage ladies, 5 years advanced.
We communicated in Bahasa and English. Something they insisted on, perhaps they found my Bahasa, only slightly less painful than my tortured English vowels. Again, I found this group friendly, confident, engaged and oh so interested in exploring our differences and sharing experiences. I felt more at ease as their fashion sense was a bad as my own.
I was starting to get the hand code thing by now.
Indonesian spiritualism and the global village.
I noticed that these students had a strong sense of being part of a global village, an international perspective. Indonesia will play a significant part in the future of the Planet. They asked me many questions that prove this point:
How come I speak such weird English? (I’m sensing a pattern here)
Are Muslims safe in Australia?
What is Australia’s position on the Gaza conflict?
Why has Indonesia and Australia had a at times strained relationship?
Is Australia a multicultural nation?
Why is Australia not a republic?
But above all we had a lot of fun and laughs. No longer was my mood one of sadness and hopelessness about humanity. I can’t recall why precisely they blessed and applauded me, must have been one of my dad jokes, translated into Bahasa Indonesian perhaps. But now I really felt like a ‘Rock Star’.
By now I really felt like a ‘Rock Star’.
Retail therapy and another dose of spiritualism.
So, we left Borobudur, having seen very little of the temple and drove to Malioboro Street, Yogyakarta’s famed shopping street for some retail therapy.
Malioboro Street – Shopping, eating, and just hanging out Indonesian Style.
On Saturday Malioboro Street is the place to see and been seen, most of Yogyakarta seemed to be heading downtown. But it was extremely hot and humid, so we decided to take our retail therapy indoors. So, into Aladdin’s Cave – ‘Hamzah Batik’:
Hamzah Batik – Yogyakarta’s public transport has a lot of attendant ‘farting’ – Not just the horses.
Our first haven was a ‘Hamzah Batik’, owned and operated by one of Yogyakarta’s most successful retailers and famous Drag Queens, who regularly hosts Drag Cabaret on the top floor of this establishment. The latter is insignificant to the story other than to suggest that Indonesia is not necessarily the religiously conservative Country you might imagine it to be.
Retail Therapy – Yogyakarta Style
Crippling humidity, more rock star fun, frivolity, and human tolerant spiritualism.
At this point we had not realized that the education system nationwide was celebrating ‘Interview a Foreigner Week’, but as soon as we emerged into Malioboro’s humidity, more ‘Rock Star’ activity.
These girls were not the fashion-conscious Wanita of our earlier encounter, they were much quieter, reserved, shy, humble, and restrained, they also spoke very little English. Nothing poise, and charm won’t overcome: Just as well my wife Lizzie and her Kiwi manner were present. Soon Lizzie had them gasbagging, not surprisingly, they were just as confident, eager to engage, pose for the camera and yes, the hand code signals! We chatted in Bahasa, during which they enquired about Australia, New Zealand, and told us of their career aspirations. They also asked me why Kiwi’s speak normal English and Aussie’s don’t!
With confidence like this – Indonesia has a bright future.
How I derailed Air Garuda’s international language program.
And it did not stop there, the ‘Rock Star’ event continued with an interview by this vivacious and extrovert group. In what seems peculiarly Indonesian, they were the graduating class of ‘Indonesia’s Air Stewards University’. I thought I missed something in translation, but their English fluency removed all doubt, such a thing actually exists.
Hospitality Air Garuda Style
Their last exercise involved seeking out a foreigner, communicating in their language, whilst serving them traditional Indonesian sweets. I have no idea what I ate, and given the hot, humid conditions, it was probably not very wise, but there you go.
We chatted in English and Bahasa, we also had the options of Dutch or French, yes, a multilingual education opens opportunity for young Indonesian Women. And as with every similar contact I had on this extraordinary day, they were confident, engaging, and oh so interested in exploring other cultures. They also asked me why I spoke such funny English, that pattern again! We closed on a lesson in how to speak Australian, like a real Aussie. So, next time you fly Air Garuda, if the flight attendant asks, “Howse ewes goin mate”, well you know who to blame.
Conclusions on spirituality.
I started this Postcard mentioning my spiritual experience. Are what I described actually spiritual experiences or just inspiring human connections?
I have no idea, I would for the reasons explained earlier, be the last person to answer such a question.
But I do know all of this made me feel better about the World. That young Indonesians could be so open and accepting of an old Aussie dude, from a completely different historical background and culture, gives me faith and hope.
I want to believe that the humanity that connects us is far stronger than the differences that can divide us. It’s a question of choice.
(This Postcard was originally published in January 2023. Like many, I was both enraged and deeply concerned about Putin's illegal and unprovoked attack on Ukraine. When little Vlad suggested that the West needed to stay out of it, well I had to respond.)
Who would venture out in the midday sun? Well according to the 1931 Noël Coward song, only ‘Mad dogs and Englishmen’. Coward would perhaps smile in considering the deconstruction, and reconstruction of his lyrics. As a result, they have morphed to accommodate ideas quite removed from the simple witty satire originally intended. Noel knew social media to be newspapers and the medium he mastered, popular music. Today’s social media brings the glare of the midday sun, onto most people on the Planet. That is to say, Noel’s lyric are a metaphor for public exposure. Most people have some exposure to social media. As a result, most people, know how cruel, how energy sapping, how destructive, such exposure can be. Only a certain type of person enjoys such attention. Consequently, only fools, heroes, and villains venture out in the midday sun!
Does anything more than popular entertainment result from social media dominance? Perhaps it depends on whether those exposed are heroes, fools or villains. Above all whether we can understand the difference. I was pondering such issues when I decided to write to little Vlad.
Putin – fool and villain. Dear Vlad,
Recently I sent a letter via LinkedIn to President Putin as follows:
Oh, Mr. Putin you are a hypocrite. You say, “The Wests’ provision of weapons to Ukraine will prolong the war, it must stop”.
Do you remember the USSR, it was in all the papers, especially its dissolution on Dec 26, 1991. Well,
The USSR was attacked by Germany on June 22, 1941. The USSR was sustained by Allied Convoys delivering weapons and materials. Oh, that sounds remarkably familiar.
And you clearly forget that in excess of 10,000 merchant sailors perished on such convoys.
Convoys like PQ17, 35 ships commenced the journey, only 11 made it to the USSR.
Lest we Forget!
Peter Veal, January 2023
Vlad the Hypocrite.
I attached the following poster. Which depicts Allied Convoys making the extremely dangerous run to Russia. Arguably Russia would have succumbed to German Nazism during World War 2 if not for such sacrifice. Now Putin complains of the same Countries sustaining Ukraine: Hypocrisy!
British Merchant Seaman – Uncelebrated Quite Heroes
I’m still awaiting a response from Vlad, perhaps he’s busy? My intent was to define Putin’s hypocrisy in complaining of the West’s support for Ukraine. Whilst ignoring the historical fact that in 1941 the West supported Russia (USSR).
Over 10,000 Merchant Seaman died crewing these convoys. This figure excludes military personnel, sailors and airman: In total 72,000 lives! Britain expended weapons and treasury it really needed for self-defense. British convoys commenced in August 1941, only a few months after the Battle of Britain, had ceased to be an existential threat. Consequently, as much as Britain needed Russia to resist Germany, it desperately needed all its weapons, men and treasury rebuild its defensive and offensive strength.
Extraordinary Heroism and Conspicuous Courage. Death in a freezing cold sea, a long way from home.
So, what does it mean to be a hero?
What is the importance in Society of Heroes?
Should we still value heroic endeavours in the contemporary world?
One person’s Hero, another’s Fool a short time travel trip.
In Ancient Greek tradition, a hero was a human, male or female, of the remote past. Heroes, in consequence of descendance from immortal gods, possessed superhuman abilities. Equally, they had all of the qualities and faults of their fellow humans. But those human characteristics were always on a much larger scale. Counterintuitively for the modern mind, ancient heroes were not paragons of virtue. Whether fool or villain, ancient heroeslike their parent gods, were objects of cult worship.
Obviously, some of this tradition time travelled 2500 years down to us: Donald Trump.
Funny? No: Pathetic and Insulting to Real Heroes, yes!
If you’ve been lucky to escape this absurdity, Trump has recently released a range of digital trading cards which portray himself as a superhero! Quick pause to be sick and then we will continue………………………
Trump certainly fits the classical tradition: No virtue, all the failings of mortal humans but on a much larger scale, and at least in his ‘mind’, descended from a god albeit a self-seeking, sociopathic one, his father Fred Trump!
A sensible definition of a Hero.
Out of respect for legitimate heroes, like the merchant men on Convoy PQ 17, let’s move on. What’s a contemporary more plausible definition of hero?
The Oxford English Language Dictionary defines Hero:
A person who is admired by many people for doing something brave or good;
The main male character in a story, novel, film, etc.;
A person that you admire because of a particular quality or skill that they have; or
In North American English, a long bread roll split open along its length and filled with various types of food.
Ok, Item 4 demonstrates how contemporary language has become ‘monetized’, to the point of meaninglessness. So, this Postcard definition (with the help of people who actually know what they are talking about):
Definition of HEROICS:
It’s performed in service to others in need – whether that’s a person, group, or community – or in defense of certain ideals;
It’s engaged in voluntarily, even in military contexts, as heroism remains an act that goes beyond the requirements of military duty;
A heroic act is one performed with recognition of risks and costs, be they to one’s physical health or personal reputation, in which the actor is willing to accept anticipated sacrifice; and
It is performed without external gain anticipated at the time of the act.
Heroism is a concern for other people in need—a concern to defend a moral cause, knowing there is a personal risk, done without expectation of reward. What are the consequences of neither having legitimate heroes, nor honouring them:
Enough chat, lets discuss some real heroes:
Who were the Heroic Men of Convoy PQ17.
The merchant seaman of Convoy PQ17 were just average British men, men of combat age, who just loved being at sea, right? Absolutely wrong! PQ17 included: Indian, Chinese, West Africans, Scandinavians, Dutch, Canada, New Zealanders, and Australians. Notably and in contrast to the times – The British Merchant Navy was similar to a ‘Foreign Legion’, recognized as an open society, free of distinctions of class, race, religion, age or colour.
The men who crewed such convoys, are often portrayed as grizzled, crusty older men. Perhaps stoking boilers or a cook smoking whilst stirring yet another stew of salted beef. Much of this is true, for example the oldest known merchant seamen were in their seventies. Chief Cook Santan Martins of SS Calabria was aged 79 when he was killed in action in her sinking by German Submarine U-103 in December 1940. But, there were also boys.
The youngest merchant seamen were invariably “Boy” ratings, Deck Boys, Galley Boys, Mess Room Boys, Stewards Boys or Cabin Boys typically 14 or 15 years of age. Ken and Ray Lewis, aged 14 and 15 years respectively, were killed sailing together aboard the SS Fiscus when it was sunk by German Submarine U-99.
Heroes of the British Convoys that supplied the USSR in World War 2.
What motivated such Heroes?
So why did they do it?
Well, it certainly wasn’t for the pay and conditions! The basic working week was 64 hours, before overtime kicked in. Food was usually coarse and poor as refrigeration was not available. Salt meat from brine tubs and butter from tins provided much of the staple diet.
On British vessels attacked and sunk by enemy action, merchant sailors received no pay from the moment that their ship sank, regardless of survival if picked from the sea, it was all recorded as non-working time! Fortunately, this changed in May 1941, so the few survivors of PQ 17 were paid: An amount substantially less than a British Army Privates pay, so not very much!
From the outbreak of war in September 1939, British Merchant Seamen could decide if they wished to sail and risk attack by German forces. The extremely high losses were public knowledge. Such men knew the fear and went anyway.
The men of PQ 17 were not there for the pay or conditions, they weren’t volunteers as such, but it seems they had a choice: They really were unsung heroes! They must have known the risk of death in a cold dark sea.
Lying in the dark, trying to sleep, waiting for the shattering, shaking, and shock inducing impact of a torpedo: They really were heroes, scared and frightened, but nevertheless heroic.
Heroes: Real and Fictious:
Do we need to bring back real heroes? Why if at all do we need heroes?
We need heroes first and foremost because our heroes help define the limits of our aspirations – Courage, humour, and justice: Or indeed the lack of them. Sometimes those heroes are real characters, sometimes fictious. Sometime those heroes are very young and very scared, but they perform heroic acts regardless. The fictious ones are often satirical, funny, pathetic even: They provide a voice that the real unsung heroes may never otherwise have.
Old Tin Legs – Sir Douglas Bader:
Watch this Mum – No legs! Nothing beats Determination!
Those lucky to have been born in my generation or earlier, the Swinging 60’s, know Douglas well. For others, a potted history:
Douglas was a WW2 British Spitfire Ace. Quite remarkable given he lost both legs crashing his plane in 1931. Flew top cover over ‘The Dunkirk Evacuation’, then ‘The Battle of Britain’, until shot down over France in 1941: Multiple escapes from German captivity, the first within days of being shot down. Such a pain in the arse, Germany locked him in ‘Colditz Castle’.Not one to let the weeds grow under his tin feet, Douglas spent his time in Colditz smuggling contraband around inside his tin legs.
Sir Douglas is a legitimate hero in the classic military sense, boundless drive, courage, and resilience But, just as important is the example he sets in overcoming adversity. Imagine losing both legs in 1931? We’ve all seen contemporary amputees working hard to regain mobility, and that’s with extremely sophisticated prosthetics. Imagine having two tin legs manufactured by a craftsman who last week was beating out wing panels for a Morris Minor?
Heroism is not just displayed in military settings. Not all heroes are solely of the ‘daring do’ military type, some heroes, who time travelled down to us, were simply heroic regardless of setting!
Captain Lawrence Oates.
“I am just going outside and may be some time.”
Captain Lawrence Oates.
Last week, 19 January, was the anniversary of British Naval Officer, Captain Scott’s ill-fated race to the South Pole. He lost the race and his life. Also losing his life was a British Army Officer, Captain Lawrence Oates. Lawrence was another classic military hero. Seriously wounded in an 1898 Second Boer War engagement, when called on to surrender Lawrence replied, “I came to fight not surrender”. For that action Lawrence was recommended for the Victoria Cross, the Commonwealth’s highest military medal, since 1856 only ever awarded to 1358 individuals. But another action made him an enduring hero.
On the return from the South Pole, Lawrence performed an extraordinary feat of self-sacrifice. Injured and crippled from frost bite, he knew he was slowing down the team, compromising their chance of a safe return. Lawrence walked out into the night with classic British understatement: “I am just going outside and may be some time”.
Captain Lawrence Oates – ‘A Very Gallant Gentleman’.
Enduring British Heroes of total fiction.
Some fictious heroes, just endure, for their message travels across time – Take Captain James ‘Biggles’ Bigglesworth – then we have a not so humble bank manager, the WW2 British Home Guards, Captain Mainwaring.
Am I entering the Realm of Fantasy here?
Captain George Mainwaring a fictional WW2 British Home Guard Captain of the sitcom ‘Dad’s Army’ fame. First aired on 31 July 1968,‘Dad’s Army’ still remains a favourite, despite 53 years of time travel! But seriously, what can the bungling George tell us about heroism?
George is pompous, blustering, with an overdeveloped sense of his own importance.But he is also brave, self-sacrificing, loyal to his men without fault, and prepared to make very hard decisions. If not perhaps classically heroic in appearance, Captain Mainwaring is at least out in public demonstrating fundamental Leadership skills. However, even the bumbling, likeable Captain, does at times display heroics beyond that expected of a Home Guard Officer. When the local parishioners are taken hostage by a downed Luftwaffe air crew, George leads a successful rescue mission. Success is only possible when George places his own life in danger as a distraction, allowing the Platoon to flank and overcome armed German airman.
Captain George Mainwaring symbolizes all the ordinary people that have performed extraordinary heroic feats of self-sacrifice in the interests of others.
Lest we forget that fact. Britain has not.
Lest We Forget all the Captain George Mainwarings
The End – of Heroes
The time has come to change our model of heroism. Being a hero is no longer a mythical classification reserved for superheroes in comic books, or a few legendary men and women, or classic military types. Nor should we tolerate narcissistic politicians, who debase the concept of ‘Hero’ for self-seeking purposes.
The meaning and definition of words is important. That the Oxford English Language Dictionary, defines ‘Hero’ as a:‘Bread roll stuffed with food’, is quite absurd!
Our role models need reprogramming, who do we want to emulate. People we respect because of their ethical values and morals? Or those who have many social media followers?
Social media makes it far too easy to confuse celebrity with excellence.
Recognition and acceptance of the value of Principles is part of the answer: Trustworthiness, Integrity, Courage, Honesty, Authenticity, and Humility – Foundational Leadership aspirations. Oh, and let’s toss in some essential Captain Mainwaring –Loyal to his men without fault and prepared to make very hard decisions.
The war in Ukraine has many lessons – We need more of such Principles.
Who could ever have guessed that the good President was a fan of Corporal Jones?
The Wisdom of Humble Butchers can inspire Presidents!
(This Postcard, originally published January 2023, is one of my 'Postcard Snippets' range. Intentionally abbreviated, little more than introductions to a complex subject. Often, they first appeared as spontaneous Posts on Facebook or LinkedIn, sometimes on the anniversary of a historical event discussed therein. I provide links and suggestions to the interested reader so they may choose to follow the bouncing ball and discover more about the endlessly fascinating stories History and Time Travel expose.)
Recently I sent a letter to President Putin as follows:
Oh, Mr. Putin you are a hypocrite.
You say:
“The Wests’ provision of weapons to Ukraine will prolong the war, it must stop.”
Vladimir Putin
Do you remember the USSR, it was in all the papers, especially its dissolution on Dec 26, 1991. Well,
The USSR was attacked by Germany on June 22, 1941. The USSR was sustained by Allied Convoys delivering weapons and materials. Oh, that sounds remarkably familiar.
And you clearly forget that in excess of 10,000 merchant sailors perished on such convoys.
Convoys like PQ17, 35 ships commenced the journey, only 11 made it to the USSR.
Lest we Forget!
Peter Veal January 2022
I attached the following poster – Allied Convoys sustained Russia in World War 2, now Putin complains of the same Countries sustaining Ukraine: Hypocrisy!
British Merchant Seaman – Uncelebrated Quiet Heroes
I’m still awaiting a response from Vlad, perhaps he’s busy? My intent was to define Putin’s hypocrisy in complaining of the West’s support for Ukraine, whilst ignoring the historical fact that in 1941 the West supported Russia (USSR) after attack by Hitler.
I was struck by the sacrifice of Merchant Seaman, over 10,000 killed running convoys as depicted above. This figure excludes military personnel, sailors and airman: In total 72,000 lives!
Extraordinary Heroism and Conspicuous Courage. Death in a freezing cold sea, a long way from home.
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Welcome to Postcards from Downunder. My ponderings on travel, and all manner of human activity, all presented with a historical context.
