Mrs Bronwyn Bishop (Mackellar, Liberal Party, Shadow Minister for Veterans' Affairs) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

On indulgence: in rising to speak on this matter, I do so in the sense that we have had a very successful reception given for those who fought in the battles of Coral and Balmoral. We have also had a very important commemorative service at the Vietnam Memorial for 3RAR as well as for Coral and Balmoral. There has been a general awakening of thought and the need to remember and put into context the fine service given by Australian soldiers fighting in the battles of Vietnam. We have heard how badly our men were treated when they came back from fighting in Vietnam and yet the intensity, malice and vitriol of those people who denigrated them and their families during the Vietnam War I think also need to be revisited to understand exactly what it was that those men and women went through. It is also important to put in context the battles of Coral and Balmoral as fire support bases and perhaps to revisit the Tet offensive of 1968 and Operation Thoan Thang (Complete Victory) from April to June of 1968, of which Coral and Balmoral were a part. The Tet offensive was the aspiration of the North Vietnamese to, in their terms, ‘liberate South Vietnam’ with uprisings all over South Vietnam, with the intention of winning the war.

Part of that Tet offensive was the battle of Hue, where an incredible massacre by the Viet Cong took place of the people who lived in Hue. Hue was a city where intellectuals lived and there was a real understanding of what democracy was about. I am most grateful to be one of many people reading Vietnam, the Australian War by Paul Ham, which puts into context and explains so many of the things that happened. Paul Ham wrote of that battle:

The massacre of some 6,000 inhabitants of Hue who were the educated citizens who were chosen for death by shooting, clubbing, bayoneting or being buried alive because they were educated and middle-class and they would not capitulate to the North Vietnamese.

Paul Ham’s book says:

The massacre fulfilled the letter of the Liberation Front directive of 2 December 1965 sent to regional and district commissars, party and political training schools and said in areas temporarily under enemy control, ‘We are to exterminate key and dangerous elements of such parties as the Vietnamese Nationalist Party.’

Sentiments perhaps reminiscent of Pol Pot and his killing fields, but the barbarity of the attack on the people of Hue was not reported in the Western press. They were much more interested in reporting against our troops and against our people. The stories that I have heard since, with people coming together, tell how wives living at Holsworthy would not be served by shopkeepers in Liverpool because their husbands were serving in Vietnam. Children were singled out for bullying in the playground because their father was serving in Vietnam. One story told of a soldier who had died of appalling wounds and whose parents were rung up by an anti-Vietnam demonstrator. Speaking to this person’s parents, they said, ‘He got what he deserved.’ Their home was then daubed with red paint. These are truly shameful incidents that occurred and have been pushed back in memory. But if we are truly to acknowledge the service and sacrifice of the men and women who served in Vietnam then we must revisit the malice and vitriol that was around at that time.

The Tet offensive was unsuccessful for the North Vietnamese. Something like 45,000 Vietcong lost their lives. But the TV coverage of the Tet offensive sent a message that preached against the actions of those opposed to North Vietnam and the Vietcong. The result was that President Johnson announced on 31 March 1968 that he would not seek re-election and that he would stop the bombing of North Vietnam and negotiate with Hanoi. General Westmoreland’s departure to the US was announced. He was being kicked upstairs, as the jargon went. Hanoi was buoyed by the failure of nerve, and the People’s Army troops poured into South Vietnam.

On 13 May, the communist leaders agreed to begin the so-called peace negotiations in Paris, which coincided with an escalation of the war. Hanoi saw the West’s weakness and they launched a mini Tet offensive. Contemporaneously with the announcement of peace talks was the beginning of Coral and Balmoral. Australia’s General Macdonald agreed to send two Australian battalions, the 1st and 3rd, to support the defence of Saigon. Lieutenant Colonel Phillip Bennett and Lieutenant Colonel Jim Shelton were the respective battalion commanders, two very esteemed gentlemen—soldiers; brave.

The Australians were under American command and were tasked to block enemy withdrawals and reinforcements from Saigon. They were to be dropped into country rife with enemy and were meant to lure the enemy into the open. ‘Surfers’ was the codename they gave to the area around Bin Hoa, which they further divided into areas called Bondi, Newport and Manly. They had to establish a fire support patrol base, which they called Coral, named after an Australian officer’s girlfriend. The aim was to protect the weapons system and armoured operations in the area of operations.

On the night of 12 May, initial contact was made with the North Vietnamese army, who all day had been observing them being dropped in by helicopter. The North Vietnamese struck with full force at 3.30 pm, but the Australians’ training kicked in. I would like to read an extract from Paul Ham’s book. He says:

Both sides fought like threshing machines. ‘The enemy withdrew under devastating firepower and was severely mauled,’ said Bennett the next morning. The gunships and fighters, the bravery of the Australian mortar and artillerymen and the effective operation of the 1st Battalion command post, notably the fire support control centre, had saved the base from being completely overrun. The ashen-faced Australian survivors rested amid the shambles, many in a state of shock. The wounded were airlifted to Vung Tau, and Staff Sergeant Terry Loftus packed the personal effects of the dead for dispatch to Australia. Somewhere in the jungle, hundreds of North Vietnamese soldiers dragged their comrades to makeshift field hospitals and the strange mournful utter of the battlefield subdued into birdless silence. On the earth before Coral lay hundreds of pairs of Ho Chi Minh sandals. Fifty-two North Vietnamese army bodies were recovered and buried in a mass grave.

Private Dick Nordon, whose action prompted Sir Rodon Cutler VC to remark quietly when decorating him, ‘I do not know what one has to do these days to win a Victoria Cross.’ He was caught in an ambush. Nordon had rushed forward under covering fire to retrieve two Australian wounded. His section commander and forward scout shot 20 metres ahead. As he ran, Nordon himself was wounded. He shot a Vietnamese soldier then, out of ammunition, grabbed the dead man’s rifle and continued firing until he reached his section commander, whom he dragged to safety. Nordon then raced forward again under fire and reached the now dead Australian scout, whose corpse the Vietcong rifleman was using as a shield. Nordon killed this soldier, returned to his section, ran forward a third time with grenades and cleared the area so that the scout’s body could be retrieved. Nordon single-handedly saved his section commander’s life and reversed the enemy’s advantage with complete disregard for his own safety.

The men who fought for Australia in Vietnam were proud, courageous and endowed with the Anzac spirit. Balmoral was the name given to the second fire support base in the Newport area near the village of Bingmei. It was another tethered goat strategy—that is, designed to lure the enemy out into the open. Lieutenant Jim Sheldon of the 3rd Battalion was chosen for this second base. He made two very important decisions: firstly, he welcomed Australian centurion tank support; and, secondly, instead of flying in his battalion for the North Vietnamese Army to observe, he sent them in quietly on foot. He also had an innovation that was called Sheldon’s Mortar Marauders. He had armed personnel carriers mounted with mortars, which did short tours around so they would think that was all they had.

The Australian destroyed at least fourteen bunker systems in the first encounter and they thought they had pretty well succeeded, but on the 28th of May the North Vietnamese Army returned to Balmoral.

Again, I read from Paul Ham’s book:

For fifteen minutes they mortared the base with frightful accuracy thanks to the courage of their nocturnal scouts, who crept up and captured the distance with lengths of string. Then in an exact replica of an early attack, only bigger, at least 800 North Vietnamese threw themselves on the tethered goat. As foolish as they were courageous, the attacks were suicidal, reminiscent of Japanese determined-to-die units. Perhaps the Vietnamese were drugged, some wounded. Those who reached the wire met a hail of canister and rifle fire and fell chiefly at the feet of Major Peter Phillips’ company, who withstood the brunt of both attacks for which Phillips’ leadership earned him a Military Cross. Some corpses hung on the wire until dawn.

An examination of the North Vietnamese bodies revealed that they were boys aged 15 to 17. The Australians were fighting an army of teenagers and the destruction of so many lives disturbed many Australian soldiers. ‘To waste all that young manpower seemed to be criminal,’ said Major Peter Phillips afterwards. ‘It is a measure I guess of Hanoi’s skill that they were able to indoctrinate these young kids. I never saw the grey eminences who were directing them. We only saw the young kids.’

It was a fearful war. It was a disgraceful reaction when the people of Australia let those men down. When the welcome home parade happened so many decades too late, some of the damage that we had done was rectified. We still owe those men and women a great apology. We owe them thanks for the courage and for wearing the uniform of which they were proud and of which I can say we must all be truly proud. They gave of themselves, as indeed any soldier has ever given in any war that this nation of ours has been involved in.

The battles of Coral and Balmoral are important to learn about and to know about, because they again give our young people and the coming generations more information about the sorts of things that they had to endure. But it needs always to be seen in context. It needs to be seen in the context that we, as a people, let them down at that time—as did the politicians of that time. Now we have an opportunity to make some of that up. Now we have the opportunity to do some things right that will help those people ease their pain. The scars that were left have been endured quietly by so many for so long. Perhaps having statements like these will help assuage the pain. We must never forget that they were fine, proud soldiers who served our country well.

Alan Griffin (Bruce, Australian Labor Party, Minister for Veterans' Affairs) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

I too stand tonight to acknowledge the courage and the service of those who fought and those who fought and died in the battles of fire support bases Coral and Balmoral. I note that the shadow minister for veterans’ affairs and also the Prime Minister went through quite a bit of the detail of what actually occurred in those events of some 40 years ago, so I will not go back over that detail on this occasion. I join with them in acknowledging the fact that these men brought great credit to their units, their mates and their country through their service at that time. As others have said—and it ought to be acknowledged yet again—it was in the very best spirit of the Anzacs over the last century and there is no doubt that they can proudly hold their heads high for the way they performed under fire so many years ago.

The shadow minister and others mentioned a bit of the history of the time. There is no doubt that, to an extent, that colours the memory of many of what occurred on the home front back in the sixties and early seventies. It was a turbulent time. It was a time when Australia and America in particular were coping with the first televised war, and there is no doubt about it: neither country did their fighting men proud in the way in which they responded to the circumstances of that time. As I said earlier, these Australian men served their country in the very best spirit of the Anzac tradition and we owe them our respect and our gratitude. They were prepared to do what needed to be done at that time on the instructions of those whom they represented, the Australian people as represented by the governments of the day. In that they are as every other soldier has been in serving on behalf of our country over the last century.

When we bid farewell to troops today, to those going to Afghanistan, Iraq, East Timor or the Solomon Islands, we always honour their service and respect their performance. We know that they will do a great job for their country. As we farewell them they always go with our blessing—as it should have been at the time of which I speak—and when they return it is with our blessing and our acknowledgement of their service. The reaction at the time of which I speak was unfortunate and disgraceful in many respects. I was 12 years old when the Australian commitment to Vietnam ended. I have seen some of the TV footage, but my memories extend not much further than that. But I know that what happened did cut to the quick many of those who served and that it is still an issue that they deal with even today.

Among the things that have been most important to me in my job as the Minister for Veterans’ Affairs and when previously serving as the shadow minister for veterans’ affairs—and I note the presence in the chamber of a former Minister for Veterans’ Affairs, Danna Vale, and the current shadow minister—are the personal stories of what people went through and their insights into the circumstances at that time. These stories have been told by people in conflicts from World War II right through to Vietnam and to Iraq and Afghanistan today.

Getting an insight into that personal experience has been very significant in gaining some understanding of what they went through. Having dealt with many veterans of Coral-Balmoral in the last couple of weeks, I have memories that I will treasure over the years—understanding individual acts of bravery, understanding the terrible loss felt by family members who lost loved ones and by comrades who lost mates, getting a sense of the small things, which in fact mean so much when one is under fire. I have never been in that situation; I do not think I ever will be. But I pay tribute to those who were. Over the last couple of weeks, it has been an immense privilege for me as minister to be a small part of what they have been going through, to share aspects of what they went through so long ago, to have a few beers and to hear them tell a few stories about each other in a very blokey fashion, as is the Australian way, but in a manner which shows their enduring respect for each other in a very digger-like fashion.

I think it has also been clear to many of them that what has occurred over the last week has been part of a healing experience. I have had individuals come to me and say: ‘This has taken 40 years. I haven’t been to a reunion in all that time, and this has been very special to me.’ I have had blokes come to me and say: ‘I wasn’t going to come. Bloody hell, I’m glad that I did.’ I have had people say to me, ‘The acknowledgements that we have received in recent times have’—as I think the shadow minister referred to—‘been part of moving me along a journey towards coming to terms with aspects of what did take place so long ago.’

There was certainly a huge crowd at the reception in the Great Hall. I was talking to the secretary of my department several days beforehand, and he said, ‘I think we are going to need a bigger hall.’ I will not use the exact words I used in response, other than to say that I said: ‘I don’t think we have got one. You’d better open the foyer.’ It was a huge crowd, bigger than the crowd at the commemoration of Long Tan a couple of years ago. There were more people at Coral-Balmoral and there was also a higher acceptance rate. On that night, the diggers did themselves and their families proud in the way they conducted themselves. I got a real sense from the group that although it was, to an extent, a solemn occasion, at the same time it was also a very proud occasion. There were plenty of laughs and quite a few beers, and a good time was had in circumstances which I know for many of them were very tense. The next day at the Vietnam veterans memorial there was a more solemn service. Again, it was done with great dignity and with great respect, with the emphasis on those who had lost their lives so long ago.

I also had the honour of representing the government at the 102 Field Battery remembrance service at Duntroon. It was very quirky, and I have now learnt that is the way gunners tend to behave. Some excellent words were employed by the speakers, involving things like asking the younger artillerymen to tell the older artillerymen when guns went off, because it is the nature of artillery that you do not tend to know, particularly as years go by and hearing degrades.

I then had the honour of going to Townsville, attending the 1RAR dawn service at the barracks and the dinner that they had that night. Again, they were great occasions, quirky in their own way. It was certainly a great honour to share that time with them and to talk to some of the more recent diggers who have been serving our country overseas. It gave a real sense that this was cross-generational in terms of the circumstances of service, and that in itself was also special.

I shared some time with the shadow minister last Sunday at the 3RAR memorial service at the Vietnam vets memorial, where the focus was on Balmoral, in particular, and what occurred throughout their tour of duty. They had performed with honour on a number of occasions—in the Tet offensive, as was mentioned earlier, in Operation Pinnaroo, in Coral-Balmoral and in other engagements as well. As I mentioned earlier, the sense that I got was of men who had done their country proud but whose country had not recognised that to the extent that it should have in the years gone by. I certainly join with the shadow minister, as I have on previous occasions on these matters, in apologising for the way they were treated—as much as I can apologise in the circumstances for what occurred at a time before I served in this parliament. We have to ensure that this never occurs again to our fighting men and women. I have to say that I do not have much doubt about that. I think that the country took a long time to learn from what occurred back then, but I think it has learnt and I do not think we will ever see that situation again. I would certainly see it with dread.

I will end with some of the positive comments that I have been very pleased to receive on behalf of the parliament in a bipartisan fashion about what has occurred with these commemorations. I received an email recently from one of the key organisers, Garry Prendergast. I certainly want to congratulate him, Don Tait and the rest of the committee of veterans who organised what occurred, with the assistance of DVA. I am on the record saying this and I will say it again: organising Vietnam veterans is very much like herding cats. The fact that these guys did it without injuries I found quite amazing and to their credit. But, having spent a bit of time with these blokes, I can understand how they managed to do it. The email from Garry reads as follows:

G’day Allan,

Let me say again,

Your DVA Staff did a magnificent job in assisting our 40th Anniversary Committee and my Townsville team in particular to make the Anniversary week such a memorable event for all the diggers and their partners that attended. The feedback is terrific.

I really mean that.

Every one of your staff who were involved need to see that their efforts were important and very much appreciated.

From the people helping at the entrance to Parliament House and at the Memorial, to the publication editors/producers for the Booklet and the Invites, to the staff on the end of the DVA phone and all the principal players like Bill Rolfe, Kerry, Richard, Ian, Susan, Kylie and Jim D plus Allison and Glenda in Townsville, they were so co-operative, helpful and diligent. I know they worked long hours at times and it showed in the quality of the results of their work.

I was especially pleased that you were able to come to Townsville and see the “1 Bn grunts” do our thing. I hope you enjoyed our unique Dawn Service and the Dinner function ... and I appreciated spending some of the time chatting with you.

Last but not least, thank you for the DVA financial support.

It was definitely needed.

PLEASE pass this around DVA for all to see.

Cheers ... Pepe.

Garry Prendergast

Co-Chair of the 40th Anniversary Committee.

To all those involved: congratulations on a job well done. I mean that with respect to those who organised these events on this occasion, be they veterans or DVA staff, but particularly all those involved in what happened so many years ago and who have been dealing with the issues that they came away with over the last 40 years. You brought credit upon your country then and you certainly brought credit upon your country over the last couple of weeks. It was a great honour and a privilege to spend some time with them at this very special time for them. As I also said in an email recently to a vet, ‘There are times when this job is a complete pain, but there is no doubt that events like this and the opportunity to spend time with veterans who have done our country proud is something that makes it all very much worth while.’