Fremantlebiz - Paul's Letter from Australia

Lest we forget - my Dad

Being Anzac Day today, I'm going to write about my father Alfred George Weaver. His 111th birthday was on April 8 a few weeks ago, but unfortunately he couldn't make it. He died aged 88 at Hollywood hospital in 1985, having been admitted the previous evening with a touch of pneumonia. He'd been in good spirits and with every intention of surviving. I was with him when he died. It remains a puzzle for me as to why he went down so suddenly after one night.

My father had been a veteran of WW1 and WW2. In September 1915 aged 18, he enlisted in the Australian Army and became a 'driver' with the 6th Australian Field Artillery. (Service No. 8602) A driver in his case meaning one of the men who sat astride a team of horses hauling an artillery piece. In one of his stories he said he had managed to drive a team of horses off a pontoon bridge into the Suez canal.

Being part of the Australian Imperial Expeditionary Force (AIF) my Dad had quiet a few grim adventures, and some amazing luck. For example, surviving the second Battle of the Somme. Throughout the war his nickname was "Tango" because he won a dance hall prize in Perth prior to his overseas sojourn. Below is a photo of him taken shortly after he enlisted in 1915.

The next photo was taken in Egypt. He'd managed to meet up with his father Gilbert and brother Ern. Another brother Walter who also enlisted with the AIF is absent from the photo. He'd been destined for Gallipoli and was wounded there. All of the men survived their war experiences and eventually returned to Australia.

The following image is of my father doing just that - returning to Australia. The photo was taken aboard a British troop ship named the Kaiser Hind. My father is in the front row on the far left. On his right sleeve are chevrons denoting the years of overseas service. In his final months of WW1 he'd been posted to an Australian Army flying squadron as a rigger. He said when there had been a call for volunteer riggers, but he didn't know it meant aeroplanes. One of the obligations of riggers was to go on occasional test flights with a pilot. He related to me how on one occasion he'd been taken so close to the spire of Coventry Cathedral in a tight circle he'd thought they were going to hit it. I offered a free copy of this photo to the Australian War Memorial last year, but there was no interest.

With the war over, my Dad was discharged from the Army, but in 1921 he reenlisted at Fremantle and stayed with the Royal Australian Artillery Corps until 1950, retiring as a WO II (Service No. WP946). In all he notched up 8 years and 278 days active service for Australia in two wars and served with Artillery for a total of 33 years, 48 days.

I remember him as a gentle, kind man, with a strong sense of humour. He was never effected adversely by any of his many extraordinary wartime experiences. He was a wonderful father, and I miss him.

© MMVIII Paul R. Weaver.

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Check out each month's subject index on the Calendar Page for my "common-man" monologues about survival in 21st century Australia – plus a little history occasionally. An original essay is added most days as part of an undertaking to write at least couple of million words. Zzzzzzzz!