Gavin Pearce (Braddon, Liberal Party, Shadow Assistant Minister for Health, Aged Care and Indigenous Health Services) Share this | Hansard source

I want to acknowledge and thank the previous speaker, the member for Eden-Monaro, for her heartfelt contribution to this condolence motion. Thank you, and I sincerely mean that. On behalf of the state of Tasmania and the electorate of Braddon, I rise today on this very significant condolence motion. It's moved us all deeply. As we reflect on previous speakers and previous sessions in this condolence motion on the passing of a great Australian, the list of accolades, the list of service contributions that that person, Jim Molan—Major General Molan—has made to this country is incredible. In fact, I have a speech that contains some such accolades but I'm going to put that aside today. I want to speak directly about what Jim meant to me and to the rest of the soldiers who served under him, what he did for the Australian Army, and the type of man that he was as a military man and as a colleague in this place.

Jim was commissioned in the Australian Army about the same time—in fact, the year after—I was born. By the time I enlisted as a young 18-year-old and went to Enoggera Barracks, he was the commanding officer of the 6th Battalion Royal Australian Regiment. Another good mate of mine, a bloke called Graham Dwyer, was the regimental sergeant major. Together, as a command team, Jim Molan and 'Dolly' Dwyer wrote the doctrine on what it means to be a leader, what it means to lead an operational unit into battle, and how to prepare that operational force and maintain morale. And there was none better. There was none more grounded there was none more sincere and there was none more mission focused than Jim Molan. I remember as a young digger being a dixie basher—that is, the colloquial term we had for doing the washing up out the back. Jim was the type of bloke where, at a formal dinner, he would be out the back of the mess asking how we got on with the formal dinner. He didn't have to do that; most of those officers probably wouldn't. But he took the time and considered there were young diggers out back working for those people who were sitting down at the silver service, and that is the type of bloke Jim Molan was. I have never forgotten that and I will never will.

It was in those days that that tone was set in my development. Those little things that I talk about have a big impact on soldiers, and Jim knew that. Jim understood that intimately. Jim was probably the most selfless commander that I have ever met. In the military, we are required, by service convention, by military law, to take a pace back and salute our officers, and most of the time we do that. We do that because we have to. But in Jim's case, it wouldn't matter what he had on his shoulders; he was a leader in every true sense of the word. You would follow him to the end of the earth and you would give your life in an instant, not because of the rank that he wore, not because of the position that he bore, but because of the man he was and the respect he gave you as a unit. Now that to me embodies the life of Jim Molan.

Jim continued to serve for more than 40 years. As I developed into a warrant officer and I had my own command, I met up again with Jim in East Timor, where he was in a pivotal role in the negotiations between the Indonesian army and the East Timorese government. Again, I got to serve with one of the role models I had met so many years before. I used to go to him for advice. When it all got too much, Jim was the sort of bloke you could go to and he would invariably make you a cup of tea. You would lay it all out and you would be flustered and emotional, and Jim, in his calm way, in his polite and mannered way, in his sensible way, could see the forest completely from the view that he had. Maybe it was that passion he had for flying helicopters—who knows?—but he had an aerial view of your problem. Instead of delivering the answer down your throat, he would fish around in your soul so that you could produce your own answer. That is the sign of a true leader, somebody who was selfless enough to let you find your own way forward. Again, I appreciate that side of Jim Molan, as do many colleagues from the Army.

I went to the funeral at the Royal Military College Duntroon at the soldiers chapel. To me, that was a sad day. It was a military funeral in every true sense of the word. From my perspective as a long-time soldier, it had a particular significance. I met up with a number of old colleagues and we talked about similar stories that I have talked about this morning. I was okay. The family walked in, I looked them in the eye and saw their grief and that was difficult. I listened to the anecdotes and the eulogies and the magnificent stories that were told of Jim Molan. At the end, the formal part of the ceremony took place. Those six bearers, those six sergeant majors who were selected specifically to carry Jim Molan from the church, stood up—the looks on their faces. They looked at each other. They stood, three each side of the coffin draped in the Australian National Flag and they folded it. It was that point that rested on my shoulders, that cut my heart. I looked at that flag and—I want the whole family at home to know this story, this fact, about how I felt—when they folded that flag those bearers folded the first fold underneath and the flag was kept uppermost, meaning that the greater union of the Australian National Flag was maintained at all times. The integrity of the flag, the integrity that represented the country, that represented the power and defence of this country, remained uppermost at all times. It was folded neatly, and then it was passed through each of those sergeant majors, each of those senior soldiers, to the senior bearer, the RSM ceremonial to the Chief of the Army, and it was then presented to Anne Molan—the look on her face as she took that—that's something that she will always have.

I want that whole family, that Molan family, to know that for me that flag that you received that day is all the more stronger because of Jim Molan. And the stars that are on that flag shine brighter because of Jim Molan. And that flag is what drove him every day of his life. It was the preservation and the strength of the flag. So, to Anne, to Sarah, to Erin, to Felicity and Michael and those beautiful grandkids, I hope one day you tell those kids this story, and I hope you get that flag out. I want to tell them, from me, that that flag means more to me now because of Jim Molan than ever before and you should be very proud because he is one of the most unique leaders that this country has ever seen or ever will, maybe. Leaders like Jim don't come along every day; they are gifted to us.

I often think of the times leading up to Jim's passing. People didn't realise how sick he was. That was done on purpose. That was him shielding people, protecting people, defending people from his pain. It's just a measure of the bloke, I think. So, from me, I'm going to miss him. Those diggers that served underneath him will miss him and will remember him. He stays in us. I took more from Jim Molan than he ever took from me, and I consider it a gift that I have had the pleasure of that service with him, that friendship with him, and he will remain with me for the rest of my life.

Family, I've never known a greater leader. I'm sure you have never known a greater father, husband and grandfather. But know that it was all done for the right reasons, know that he was the most selfless person on the earth and know that he loved you very much. So, at the going down of the sun and in the morning, I want remember Jim Molan. I love you, mate, and I'm going to miss you.

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