Michelle Rowland (Greenway, Australian Labor Party, Shadow Assistant Minister for Communications) Share this | Hansard source

On Saturday, 15 August at the Seven Hills-Toongabbie RSL we gathered, standing room only, 70 years after the machines of war fell silent across the Pacific. We gathered to reaffirm that the passage of time has not diminished our pride or reverence for the generation of Australians who came together in our darkest hour and resolutely met the challenge of war. We recalled their triumph, reflected on their sacrifice and rededicated ourselves to the ideals enshrined in this chamber for which they fought and for which so many died.

When the outbreak of war came, the recruiting station in Blacktown saw local citizens sign up from all walks of life and myriad ethnicities, answering the call to defend our way of life. Blacktown residents who originated from far-flung countries such as Sweden, Lithuania, India, China and Greece as well as modern-day Myanmar and Croatia enlisted to defend their adopted homeland. These Australians by choice proudly fought side by side with Australians by birth, and together they faced the forces of oppression against the backdrop of the Pacific Theatre. The Fall of Singapore tested the character of our military and the will of our nation, but, rather than break our national spirit, it galvanised the unyielding resolve that defines us. With unity and courage the men and women of Australia countered the rising tide of Tyranny which threatened our shores. On the front lines, through extraordinary valour, the key battles of the Coral Sea and Milne Bay were won and the jungles of Kokoda and Bougainville were conquered.

As a young community, service men and women from Greenway may have been small in number, but their valour and contribution to the war effort was nevertheless significant. Just as one example, I think of Flying Officer Gordon Jack, of Pendle Hill, who was awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross. His bravery was proudly recounted in the local papers as follows:

Throughout his tour of operations Flying Officer Jack has accomplished his duties with determination and exceptional skill … On one occasion 70 bursts of accurate fire were directed at his aircraft, but, after, taking evasive action, he returned to the target and completed his mission. Another time, Flying Officer Jack's aircraft was hit by fire from the defences and severely damaged; but, nevertheless, despite difficulty in control of the aircraft, and adverse weather, he persisted in his endeavours and successfully completed his mission.

Back home, Australian women, whom Prime Minister Curtin called 'the second line of service to Australia', responded with equal gallantry and strength. Due to the shortage of male recruits by mid-1941, the Australian government established the Women's Auxiliary Australian Air Force, the Australian Women's Army Service and the Women's Royal Australian Naval Service. By 1944 almost 50,000 women belonged to these services, while thousands of others joined the Australian Women's Land Army to maintain rural farming operations. In our local community, newspapers reported one such group's formation as follows:

Enthusiastically responding to a call to form a branch of the Women's Auxiliary, Air League, at Blacktown, 30 girls enrolled at a meeting at the Public School … an aero engine course, theory and practice, navigation, first aid, morse code and physical drill would be given [to] members.

By 1943 newspapers noted that the Blacktown Auxiliary had grown to '50 financial members, who have sent more than 50 parcels to local boys of the fighting forces'. With determination they sacrificed, rationing food and clothing, holding community events to raise funds and buying Liberty Bonds to pay for the war until finally, on 15 August 1945, Prime Minister Ben Chifley proclaimed to the nation, 'Fellow citizens, the war is over.' News of the victory spread, and our nation was awash with relief and jubilation. Newspapers reported that in Blacktown 'a victory dance and community singing drew large crowds to the school of arts', where people revelled 'from dusk on VP Day to dawn next morning'. On the fringe of the celebrating crowds a woman stood, tears streaming down her face. 'They are tears of happiness,' she said, 'because soon now, my boy, and other mothers' boys, will be coming home on a leave pass that will never expire.'

Yet, for all the joy that the end of the war brought, once the festivities had subsided there were huge and daunting tasks to address. There were families to be reunited and many who were left forever altered by the war. There were tables in almost every household where the sacrifices of war had left an empty place—fathers and sons, husbands and brothers, friends and neighbours who never came home. There were communities to be rebuilt and, above all, there was a new peace to be assured. Prime Minister Chifley declared:

The Australian government … will give all that it has to working and planning to ensure that the peace will be a real thing.

Dispersal centres were established to provide returning personnel with information regarding employment, land settlement, housing, re-establishment loans, tools of trade and other available benefits. Furthermore, the Commonwealth Reconstruction Training Scheme was introduced to provide educational and vocational training to everyone who had served in the war. The scheme also allocated weekly living and expenses allowances, as well as waived tuition fees. By 1951, 470,000 ex-service men and women had taken up the scheme. Perhaps most significantly of all, the Chifley government opened the doors of Australia to a great wave of migration, allowing old cultures to flourish again in a new land, enriching and diversifying Australian society.

In my electorate, the period of the late 1940s and 1950s saw a massive growth in population and development. From a quiet agricultural township with a population of just 14,000 prior to the war, Blacktown now found itself as an urban sprawl with a burgeoning community that had jumped to 85,000. These new arrivals brought with them precious keepsakes from homelands left behind. These keepsakes were treasured and proudly showcased and slowly but surely became ingrained in our community.

In Flushcombe Road, Blacktown, a continental delicatessen was opened which featured meats and foods from Europe, something unheard of in Western Sydney prior. Moreover, the hugely popular Warwick Theatre began midweek screenings of European films, particularly Greek and Italian films, to appeal to its new patrons. Today Blacktown is home to more than 30 different ethnic communities, and we all take pride in a nation and a world which has been transformed. Once-fierce adversaries have become staunch allies, and homogeneous communities have given way to vibrant diversity; yet none of it would have happened without what Prime Minister Chifley called the men and women 'against whose sacrifice for us there is no comparison'.

Indeed, whilst we all live in a much different Australia we are nevertheless bound today by what bound those men and women 70 years ago—the same commitment to freedom, democracy and security for our loved ones. In honouring that extraordinary generation, we therefore draw inspiration from their service and sacrifice and we pledge to uphold the legacy we have inherited from them. We also draw strength from the continued work of so many individuals across the spectrum, from national servicemen to other Returned and Services Leagues, particularly, in my case, throughout Greenway.

Indeed, on this noble occasion I am reminded of the words of the Seven Hills-Toongabbie RSL Club President, John Burgess, who said, 'It's our heritage; it's something a lot of countries don't have, and Australians have this heritage where they look to those service men and women.' May this heritage continue to serve as an enduring reminder of what we can accomplish when we work together to achieve our common goals. Our local community was changed forever by your courage. We thank you and pay tribute to you on this very important anniversary.

I would like to end my remarks by reflecting on the life of one individual who served our nation whom we farewelled last Monday, named Allan Dick. Allan Dick was born in Morningside, Brisbane, in 1921. He joined the Royal Australian Navy in 1939 as a signalman, when he was 18. As for many young Australians growing up through the Depression, hardship gave rise to determination. Like thousands of others, he saw it as his duty to fight for Australia but also as an adventure to see the world. This 'adventure' saw sailors like Allan Dick travel to the Mediterranean, the Indian Ocean and of course the South Pacific, where he served from 1943 and for the remainder of the war on the HMAS Ararat, which was one of 60 Australian minesweepers, commonly known as corvettes, built during World War II in Australian shipyards, as part of the Commonwealth government's wartime shipbuilding program. The ship was built by Evans Deakin & Company in Allan's beloved city of birth, Brisbane.

It was dangerous work sitting in the bottom of the ship day after day, week after week, always knowing that, under attack, the signalman would never escape if the ship was bombed—a determination to fight to the end no matter what, to keep signalling until the ship went down, all the while suffering extreme seasickness.

This, of course, was at a time when families back home had little intelligence of the welfare of their loved ones, sometimes going for weeks and months without contact, and always only letters or the occasional telegram. The anxiety of loved ones cannot be comprehended, going without a single word—unimaginable in today's world of instant communication.

Allan survived the war and went on to become an entrepreneur, the owner of a number of businesses and the father of a gifted educator, Susan, and two sons who followed in their father's footsteps with public service through elected office: Cameron, a cabinet minister in the Queensland state government, and Milton, my touchstone, a Brisbane city councillor and the future member for Oxley in this place. Allan Dick was never defined by his time in the war, only attending Anzac services with his children and grandchildren late in life. But it is also true that the war shaped him as a son, a husband, a father, an employer and a role model to so many lives he touched. This parliament thanks you, Allan Dick, service number B/3388. May you rest in peace. Lest we forget.

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