There is a pleasing new focus on National Servicemen in Australia, and rightly so. Most had their lives disrupted while they completed their duty.

I recently discovered the website of the National Servicemen’s Association and had Dad’s name added to the honour roll.

Dad didn’t talk much about his military service. I got the impression he didn’t really want to do it.

In fact, here are his brief notes on three years of his life:

“My sporting life was interrupted and I was called up for National Service duty in the Army.
One of my first memories of initial training was when my battalion (the 14th Artillery) marched through the CBD of Melbourne to line the route of the cavalcade of the Queen and the Duke of Edinburgh on their first visit to Australia in 1954.
Although I was contemptuous of the reasons behind National Service I made the best of it and served out my three years.
I trained as a radio operator for the officer in charge of the observation post, directing the guns onto their targets.
Although not seeking it, I received promotions in rank and finished up being offered the rank of sergeant at the end of my training.”

I never knew Dad formed part of the cavalcade for the Queen’s first visit to Melbourne until reading that.

I’ll add to this post if I can discover more information about the 14 NST Battalion. If anyone can assist, please comment here or contact me.

National Service and conscription have always been controversial subjects in Australia.

Allen Callaghan writes in his brief history:

Under the National Service Act 1951, all young men turning 18 on or after November 1, 1950 were required to undertake 176 days standard recruit training in the Navy, Army and Air Force, followed by five years in their respective Reserves. The first call-up notices were issued on April 12, 1951 and the first National Servicemen marched in during July.

The Army was allocated the largest proportion of men – about 198,000 – and formed 10 National Service Training Battalions. The locations of the Battalions were: Queensland, 11 Battalion at Wacol; New South Wales, 12 Battalion at Singleton and Holsworthy, 13 Battalion at Ingleburn and 19 Battalion at Old Holsworthy and Holsworthy; Victoria, 14, 15 and 20 Battalions at Puckapunyal and Watsonia; South Australia, 16 Battalion at Woodside; Western Australia, 17 Battalion at Swanbourne; Tasmania, 18 Battalion at Brighton.

Here is a copy of the certificate I gratefully received from the National Servicemen’s Association:

In 2005 I wrote that Australia Day didn’t mean much more to me than just being a holiday. In 2007, I suggested having a new date for our national day.

I wrote on Wendy’s Cultured Views this morning:

“I don’t like the choice of date because it’s NSW focused and marks the founding of a prison. I would prefer Australia Day to be on June 9, the anniversary of Matthew Flinders completing the first circumnavigation of Australia. Get rid of the Queen’s birthday holiday (it’s the wrong date anyhow) and introduce a new holiday on December 31 for New Year so January 1 can officially be Federation Day.”

At first I thought I was alone in being disturbed by the growing jingoistic nationalism associated with Australia Day. I started writing a blog post, but stopped because I thought it would invite redneck attacks.

I followed the search term for “Australia” on Twitter. It was full of presumably young people saying “Happy Australia Day” and describing their plans for beer, beach and barbecue.

There were a few left-wing radicals throwing in remarks about “Invasion Day” and the dispossession of the Aborigines.

On holiday at Mandurah a couple of years ago every second car had an Australian flag attached (probably made in China). People wore hats with Australian flags and their towels were Australian flags. They probably wore underpants with Australian flags on them.

I struggled to pinpoint why exactly, but this bothered me a little.

In Mount Gambier today it was more subdued, but I saw young men walking down the street wrapped in Australian flags.

John Birmingham neatly articulated my concerns in his Blunt Instrument article for the Brisbane Times, headlined: “Since when did dumb-arsed nationalism become compulsory?”

Birmingham writes: “I don’t mind getting ruinously drunk. I don’t mind the odd cockroach race. And I love a barbecue, especially if there’s ruinously drunken cockroach racing involved. But one of the things I really like about Australia, or I used to anyway, was our quiet reluctance to wave the flag in everyone’s face; a reluctance which has gradually given way to an uglier, brutish readiness to paint the flag on our arses and sit on the face of anyone who looks even remotely disinclined to play along.”

Some of the reader comments nailed it for me:

“Big business has seized Australia Day as a dumbed-down Down Under 4th of July and all in the name of selling more beer and lamb to the easily-manipulated Southern Cross tattoos-types who are just looking for a excuse to get tanked up, jump into the ute and go bash anyone who looks remotely unAustralian. Sorry – I don’t buy into the whole tub thumping, beer swilling thing and I think one of the great attributes that Australia has lost, is that quiet (dare I say it, almost British) reserve and dignity, that we as a people used to display at home and aboard. Regionally, this reserve won us more friends than this new stance of smashing foreigners in the face and shouting Aussie Aussie Aussie Oi Oi Oi.”

and

“I think it’s time we returned to the real reason for Australia Day – The Day Off. If there wasn’t a public holiday, I doubt if anybody would even know it was Australia Day. Or care. Nobody gives a rats about our national day – If you want to see a truly united Australia, try to take our Day Off away. (Make sure you have a current Will first, though.) Actually, this applies to ALL our public holidays. And we would do anything to get more of them. Waving the southern cross is just for show so they think we’re patriotic enough to keep our holiday. Bollocks. We’d wave shamrocks if it meant St Patrick’s day were a public holiday too.”

I like this one:

“Seems to me that the Australian Of The Year gong provides a causal link between dumb-arsed nationalism and Straya Day. Steve Waugh smacks a few balls to the boundary, and suddenly he’s the best citizen we’ve got? (Bermuda resident) Pat Rafter puts in a gutsy 5-set loss to Goran in the Wimbledon final, and we can’t wait to drape him in diamonds? Cathy Freeman, bless her, runs a lap of an athletics track rooly quickly and she gets AOTY? John Farnham assures us that we’re the voice, and that’s justification enough to parade him before the masses?”

A few people traced the rise of Australia Day nationalism to former Prime Minister John Howard’s insistence the public holiday occur on the actual date.

Before 1996 (I think), the Australia Day holiday occurred on the nearest Monday to create a long weekend.

Because January 26 was a Tuesday this year, the holiday was on the Tuesday, but in typical Australian fashion, many people “took a sickie” yesterday to make it a four-day long weekend.

And many of them will be hungover and unproductive tomorrow, or sunburnt, if they bother to show up for work.

I liked it better when Australia Day was just a long weekend, like the Queen’s birthday, with no embellishments.

“Who made Australia what it is today? We asked a panel to name the 25 people who have changed the nation the most,” the introduction boldly proclaims.

There were eight judges, four each from Melbourne and Sydney, possibly because that’s where the magazine circulates or maybe because that’s where the editors think Australia starts and finishes.

They came up with a mixed bunch, trying to focus on the arts and sciences without dwelling too much on politics. In the process they forgot about the law (except for Eddie Mabo) and overlooked sport (except for Cathy Freeman).

The magazine’s top 10 Australian change makers of the past 50 years:

1. Germaine Greer
2. Rupert Murdoch
3. Paul Keating
4. Gough Whitlam
5. Judith Wright
6. Patrick White
7. John Howard
8. Bob Hawke
9. Eddie Mabo
10. Noel Pearson

They are all eminent people, obviously. It’s disappointing however, that two foreigners were named as the top two Australians.

Greer has hardly been in the country for 20 years and Murdoch is an American citizen.

Here are my top 10 change makers:

1. Kerry Packer
2. Bob Hawke
3. Graham Kennedy
4. Murray Gleeson
5. Paul Hogan
6. Sir Charles Court
7. Rod Laver
8. Don Dunstan
9. Ron Barassi
10. Kylie Minogue

I didn’t have a points system or any objective judging criteria. These are just people who I think influenced Australian life and society, shaped their fields and/or represented Australia to the world.

Kerry Packer isn’t my favorite Australian of the last 50 years, but I find it hard to ignore his influence across a range of sectors including media, business and sport. World Series Cricket was a revolution in its day.

Paul Keating has conveniently written Bob Hawke out of the history books as a reformist, but Hawke changed the economy for the better and improved relations between workers and industry.

Graham Kennedy was the premier entertainer of his generation and Murray Gleeson was the country’s foremost legal figure.

Paul Hogan created an international stereotype about Australians that lingers today, while Rod Laver dominated tennis from the amateur era through to professionalism, winning two grand slams.

Sir Charles Court helped facilitate the Western Australian mining boom and Don Dunstan changed South Australian society after decades of conservatism.

Ron Barassi changed football forever when he crossed from Melbourne to Carlton.

Kylie Minogue (pictured) is my token woman.

It’s not a full biography and tries to paint a portrait of the man, rather than the politician. But Hughes lived for politics, becoming the longest serving elected member in the British Commonwealth.

I knew only a little about him and still feel there is much more to learn.

He has been demonised over the failed First World War conscription referendums, which split the Labor Party.

Most people remember Hughes for that and the photographs of him as an old man still serving in Canberra.

He was young once, of course.

Sadly he is not remembered for his efforts in establishing the ALP and charting a moderate path for the labor movement, when it could easily have been caught up in the revolutionary fervor sweeping the world.

His Labor legacy is probably forgotten because he became a “rat” and switched sides to the conservatives.

Hughes didn’t need the people’s mandate to introduce conscription. He could simply have passed legislation through parliament, as John Curtin did in the Second World War.

Hughes wasn’t afraid of making tough decisions, so it’s rather curious why he went down that path.

I was interested to read about his role at the Paris Peace Conference that formally concluded the war and led to the League of Nations being established.

Hughes asserted Australia’s right to a place at the negotiating table and was quite a significant player.

He insisted that Australia be given control of German territories in the Pacific south of the equator.

He was ahead of his time in fearing Japanese ambitions in the region and wanted New Guinea in Australian hands as a buffer against potential attack. This proved a clever strategy in the 39-45 war.

The controversies he generated at the peace conference were related to blocking the “racial equality clause” in the league covenant and deriding American efforts to create the world body.

He also pushed for unrealistic reparations from Germany.

Japan, which had fought on the allied side, wanted freedom for its citizens to travel, which Hughes vigorously opposed.

Hughes clashed heatedly with American president Woodrow Wilson.

Hughes described Wilson “as humorless as the great pyramid …as impassive as an undertaker at a pauper’s funeral”. Wilson described Hughes as a “pestiferous varmint”.

In one reported exchange:

Wilson: But after all you only speak for five million people.

Hughes: I speak for 60,000 dead. For how many do you speak?

America entered the war late (Wilson campaigned against it at the 1916 election) and lost 53,000 dead in battle.

Hughes is remarkable for his longevity in parliament (58 years) and the fact he changed parties five times.

He was the most colorful Australian politician of his era. He was influential in founding the ALP and in consolidating the federal system.

The book gave just a snapshot of his life, including his personal relationships, and I’m now keen to read more.

It happened suddenly one year we were living at Porepunkah that several neighborhood kids, dressed in costumes, knocked on our door for “trick or treat”.

It was a novelty then and we found some lollies for them.

Our kids took part the following year and the whole thing seemed to grow a life of its own.

Now our youngest kids, age 5, want to go trick or treating on Saturday night, which I won’t allow.

I suspect the practice was influenced by American television.

When I was young we used to celebrate “Guy Fawkes Night” in early November, also known as “cracker night” and “bonfire night”.

Fireworks were easy to obtain when I was small, until they were gradually phased out because of the obvious danger.

Bonfires continued for a year or two after fireworks were banned, but they lost their sizzle without crackers, I guess.

So to that extent, Halloween probably fills a void. Maybe there’s a primitive urge within us to commemorate the ancient Celtic festival of Samhain, a festival of the dead.

The criteria I used in selecting the unlikely trio (pictured from left) of Brendon Grylls, Martin Ferguson and Tony Abbott included the fact I had to agree with them, at least most of the time.

These three stood out as men who have made a difference, with big picture aspirations that are achievable.

Tony Abbott (Liberal)

Shadow Minister for Families, Community Services and Indigenous Affairs.

Studied briefly for the priesthood, attended Oxford University where he was a prominent boxer, opposed a republic during the referendum campaign, became Employment Minister and later Health Minister in the Howard Government.

He has previously accused some sections of the Australian public of “suffering self-imposed historical and cultural amnesia” in relation to Australia’s British heritage and acting like “teenagers blowing raspberries at their parents”.

In 1998, Abbott established a trust fund called “Australians for Honest Politics Trust” to help bankroll civil court cases against the One Nation Party and its leader Pauline Hanson.

His first girlfriend had a son who she put up for adoption. Abbott became aware of the boy’s identity in 2004, but later DNA testing confirmed he was not the father.

In his book Battlelines, to be released next week, Abbott warns that Liberal Party attitudes on federalism are obsolete, divorced from public opinion and make for policy failure.

He says a radical rethink is essential to deliver decent policies in education, health, public hospitals and water.

Martin Ferguson (Labor)

Minister for Resources and Energy.

Comes from a Catholic Labor family and was ACTU president from 1990-96. Entered parliament in 1996 and immediately became a shadow minister.

I met him while advocating for greater investment by superannuation funds in regional Australia. He was genuinely interested in the idea.

In 2005, Ferguson addressed an Australian Uranium Conference and said: “We as a community have to be part of the ever-complex question of how we clean up the world’s climate. And part of that debate is going to be nuclear power.”

He has never deviated from a pro-uranium stance and opposed the former WA Labor Government’s ban on uranium mining.

Ferguson is an old-school Labor politician who is pro-jobs, pro-mining and pro-development. He’s a level head in the cabinet on climate change.

Brendon Grylls (Nationals)

Minister for Regional Development (Western Australia).

Entered state parliament in November 2001 after winning a byelection for the seat of Merredin when Hendy Cowan retired.

In June 2005 Grylls challenged then leader Max Trenorden to become the new leader. He refused to consider a coalition with the Liberals and seriously contemplated joining with Labor if required to form government after the 2008 election.

Grylls single-mindedly pursued a “balance of power” strategy for the Nationals. I met him in February 2006 and thought he was heading in the right direction, but had little chance of success.

He persevered and achieved spectacular election results, especially in the Mining and Pastoral areas where the Nationals had never been represented.

He led the Nationals into an “alliance” with the Liberals, refusing to consider a formal “coalition” and reserving the right to vote against the government, which he has signalled doing on shop trading hours.

It’s a tough uncompromising look at early colonial life in South West Victoria, just across the border from Mount Gambier.

At the beginning I thought it was set near Wannon Falls at the foot of the Grampians. Later, I realised the setting was Port Fairy, where Hooker lived for many years.

Beyond The Pale describes how an Anglo Irish aristocrat struggles against isolation and hardships in the 1840s to establish a successful farming estate on the edge of civilisation.

For the main character, John Harringon, Australia is an alien land which he dislikes, but seeks to tame.

As the younger son of a financially failed father he was sent to the colonies to make his own way.

He employs Daniel O’Leary, who becomes the farm manager and a lifelong ally, albeit they retain a master-servant relationship.

In Port Victoria (Port Fairy) Harrington has to deal with the merchant James Rutford who owns most of the town and its supplies.

Always prudent, cautious and responsible, Harrington succeeds financially where most others crash. He rarely drinks and remains aloof.

As his father’s fortunes fail, Harrington’s brother Richard, their sister Elizabeth and her husband Clive Davies join him in the new world.

They are all arrogant, flawed individuals who don’t want to be where they end up and struggle to adapt.

Richard Harrington and Davies are drunkards; Elizabeth is frustrated with her life and pretentious; she cavorts with a caddish neighbour Edmund Butler, acquires the pox and goes mad.

Beyond the Pale is a story of displacement, racism and brutality. The Irish are oppressed and they, in turn, oppress the Aborigines.

Unlike some authors, Hooker doesn’t portray the Aborigines as noble savages. They too are shown as having human frailties.

Harrington’s method of adapting to his alien world is to build an English estate, complete with mansion, gardens, a lake and church.

He succeeds, but it’s a constant battle to maintain the property against the climate, pilfering natives, envious rivals, corrupt officials and hostile staff.

A key aspect of the book I felt two thirds through was that no character was decent. Every one of them had a fundamental flaw, some kind of negative trait or vice.

Harrington was snobbish, exploitative and sexually ambiguous.

The ending elevated O’Leary to a more noble status, but earlier it seemed his lack of ambition would be his undoing. Overall he was loyal, persistent and less prone to excesses.

The sense of dislocation and human weakness are constant themes throughout the novel.

Reading this interview with Hooker, who died in 2008, dislocation was one of his favorite themes.

“It’s an uncompromising look at the treachery and racism that underlie Australia’s formation, notes Hooker. He remembers walking “many years ago in the autumnal hills outside Canberra with Manning Clarke who suddenly said: ‘We have no business being here’. He meant we, as Europeans, are in the wrong place. It was an undercurrent in his histories, and it’s echoed in Henry Reynolds’ work, that our presence here is morally defective. And I firmly believe that, that until we face up to our colonial past, we are never going to get it right.”

I think that’s a rather grim view, but I like the way Hooker wrote.

It was also fascinating to read early 19th century descriptions of an area close to my current home.

I’m visiting Port Fairy and Warrnambool tomorrow. I’ll look at both places with a fresh perspective.

It’s a powerful novel by the master storyteller set mostly in rural New South Wales from the years leading up to the First World War through to the Great Depression.

Although gripping, the end left me disenchanted and after some belated sleep I woke up a little annoyed.

Amazon’s description of the story:

“Jessica” is based on the real life of a remarkable young Australian woman who defied the conventions of her time. She had a stubborn streak and the courage to act out her convictions … in spite of the consequences. This compelling, sweeping story is her personal fight for justice against enormous odds, and a testimony to the power of the human spirit to triumph over adversity.

Jessica has a few wins along the highway of life, but mostly she is mowed down, left abandoned on the roadside, mowed down again, run off the road and eventually run over.

Quite depressing really.

I started reading Bryce Courtenay’s Southern African books about 10 years ago: The Power of One and later White Thorn.

Courtenay was born in South Africa, but has lived most of his life in Sydney.

In more recent times I have read and enjoyed Sylvia, Brother Fish, The Persimmon Tree and Matthew Flinders’ Cat.

Jessica ended strangely. After covering the main character’s tragic life the story switches to focus on an itinerant half-caste named Mary Simpson and her tribulations.

I was waiting to see if Jessica would be reunited with the son who was stolen from her, but the entire final third of the book hardly touched on it.

Perhaps Courtenay was trying to link the “stolen generation” with Jessica’s experience. If so, it didn’t work for me.

I thought the author had “lost the plot” instead.

What annoyed me however, was the way Courtenay promoted stereotypes, glossed superficially over complex social issues and pandered to minorities.

While possibly not intended to be historical fiction, a more balanced analysis was warranted.

Anyone reading the novel will feel the injustice of groups being discriminated against including women, Catholics, immigrants, Jews, Aborigines, the disabled and the insane.

Gays were about the only minority group that didn’t get a mention.

The fact is, none of those groups felt strongly (majority view) at the time they were being discriminated against, or they accepted their situation.

Regarding Aborigines, Courtenay has no doubt researched and discovered incidents that support his scenes of institutional abuse.

However, that in itself is an injustice to the church missions in particular that did provide adequate food and shelter along with a rudimentary education.

It was like Courtenay wanted to present the worst-case examples, which I suppose is an author’s prerogative, albeit a shallow option when the subject matter is political.

The White Anglo Saxon Protestant (WASP) is portrayed in Jessica as a malignant influence.

The fact is many minorities overcame obstacles to achieve success.

That’s where I thought Jessica was heading in the early stages: a young woman making her way successfully in a man’s world.

Instead she is beaten down by her own family and the WASP establishment.

Jessica made choices that contributed to her own demise.

She was a flawed heroine, but part of me wanted her to triumph against adversity.

She failed and the book failed me.

Apparently the story is based on true-life events. True life doesn’t always have a satisfactory ending as the fictional Jessica affirms.