Michael McCormack (Riverina, National Party, Shadow Minister for International Development and the Pacific) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

I wear the poppy pin in respect, remembrance and, indeed, awe. Today we gather again to pay tribute to Thomas Page Pritchard. We should respect him, we do remember him, and we are in awe of him. I look across the chamber and see the member for Spence, and I honour his service, too, as a private with the Army Reserve. I acknowledge all members in the federal parliament who have served our great nation and who have worn a uniform, because they are the best of the best and they are the bravest of the brave.

The one we pay special tribute to today, Thomas Page Pritchard, was a Rat of Tobruk. Indeed, he was the last of the Rats of Tobruk. During the North African campaign in World War II, Nazi propaganda radio broadcasts spoke—supposedly contemptuously—of the Tobruk defenders, labelling them as rats. In true Aussie Army fashion, they took that as a badge of honour. In defiance, the soldiers proudly adopted the nickname. In fact, during the siege they designed their own medals in the shape of a rat, made from the scrap metal of a downed German aeroplane. You've got to love Australians. You've got to love our soldiers. You've got to love those in the Australian defence forces.

I noted with interest last week that, when the Prime Minister and the Leader of the Opposition began their tributes, the parliamentary speeches in relation to our fallen hero, neither of them mentioned in their very eloquent remarks Thomas Page Pritchard's age. There's probably a good reason for that—no-one's quite sure whether he was 102 or 103. Let's go with 103. It was said that he was born in Portland, Victoria, on 25 May 1921. But he was a man who lied about his age—he said it was 1919—so that he could serve. He lied about his age so that he could line up with his friends, his comrades, to serve our nation.

These days, some men lie about their gender so they can compete in women's sport. This was the finest generation of men, of brave souls, who went to serve their nation in times of peril—enormous peril. None of them knew if they were ever going to return home and to the loving arms of family and friends, yet many of them went to war and laid down their lives for their friends and for their nation.

Just the other day I attended a war remembrance service in Wagga Wagga—home of the soldier, Kapooka's Blamey Barracks. A veteran, a digger, came up to me, and he said, 'This was the greatest generation.' He was referring to those from World War II who are still living and those who, sadly, have gone to their eternal rest, and he was right, because they were the greatest generation.

The Siege of Tobruk in 1941—what a campaign! Australians fought in land and air campaigns in Egypt and Libya in North Africa. They were up against forces led by German field marshal Erwin Rommel. They had great respect for Rommel and his Afrika Korps. It was a vital campaign in World War II. The defenders at Tobruk—our men, our heroes—had to adjust to life in stifling heat. Some of them were quite used to it, given the fact that they'd been in Australian summers, but this was a heat that was intense.

They were under constant artillery and air bombardment. Supplies of food and water were limited. The troops were plagued by flies, fleas and illness, and many of them—those who knew their history—would've been well aware of a campaign a little further south, the Second Boer War of 1899 to 1902, where more men died of disease than bullets. But spirits remained high, as they always do, because that's Australian soldiers. That is the spirit of the khaki, which stretches from the Boer War and Gallipoli right through the world wars, Vietnam, Malaya, Korea, Afghanistan and all the other campaigns.

We train the best of the best in my hometown, and we're very proud of that. We're very proud of being a garrison town, and Tom Pritchard's loss has been felt keenly at Kapooka, because they know and understand that he was an iconic figure. Because of his death, a link in that heritage had been severed.

Mr Pritchard was also well aware of the responsibility that he had shouldered, probably unwantedly, as the lone known surviving Australian Rat. In 2020, his dying mate and fellow Tobruk veteran, Alf Jackson, who was 101, asked him to carry the torch for those who had passed on. Alf knew that he wasn't long for this world, and he said, 'Can you do that for me, cobber?' and Mr Prichard said that he would try.

Those who knew him described him as a quiet and thoughtful man. Like many World War II veterans, he didn't like to talk of battles past, battles won and sufferings endured, but he and his mates helped win the war against the Germans and the Axis powers. He and his mates are responsible for the fact that we now can live free and that we now have a democracy that we should be proud of and should at all times uphold.

We live in very troubled times. We've got Ukraine, we've got the situation in the Middle East, and many Australians would perhaps not be so keen to don a uniform and defend our country. But it's the ideals that Mr Pritchard had in spades that we should try to live up to at all times. We should remember him and all others—the 103,000 names on the Australian War Memorial Roll of Honour, just down the road. We should remember them not just on 25 April, Anzac Day, and not just on 11 November, Remembrance Day and Armistice Day, but every day because we owe so much to them. We should always remember. Thank you, Mr Pritchard. Lest we forget.

Matt Burnell (Spence, Australian Labor Party) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

Firstly, I acknowledge the very fine words from the member for Riverina. I wouldn't expect anything else, given that the fine member was the defence personnel and veterans' affairs minister for some time and also had Kapooka as his garrison town—a place I have fond memories of. I expect nothing less; thank you for those fine words.

I too rise to pay my respects to the late Thomas Page Pritchard, the last living Rat of Tobruk, and I thank him for his service. I acknowledge all current and former Australian personnel as well; thank you for your service. I extend my deepest sympathies to his family in their time of bereavement.

Tom's passing on 3 August 2024 marks the physical end of one of the most distinguished groups of servicemen in our national history. The Rats of Tobruk, their name an iconic embrace of insults hurled by the Nazi propagandists during the Second World War, symbolise the very essence of the Australian spirit, bringing to the world through their actions an unbreakable resilience in the face of the toughest of conditions but immersed in our unique humour; they could only be Australians.

Tom's own story is typical of the Rats. He enlisted underage, like many young Australians at the outbreak of conflict across the world, to serve with a distinction and honour reserved for the most experienced of men but complete with a wicked sense of humour and sense of wit; that is echoing just some of the testaments of those who served and lived with Tom. He lived a remarkable life, like all Australians and our allies who fought in Tobruk for the betterment of our nation both then and now. Tom was also an incredibly modest person and did not want a fuss to be made about him being the last living Rat of Tobruk. In paying my respects to him and expressing my condolences to his loved ones, I respect those wishes and leave his personal story there.

Regarding the Rats of Tobruk: their collective story warrants significant respect and commemoration, and I will pay tribute to them as a whole. Tom and the 14,000 Australian brothers in arms, alongside thousands of their allied comrades, would defend the port city of Tobruk for over seven months. With backs to the ocean—although their wit would remain as dry as the deserts of Libya—this garrison would deny and defy the Nazi war machine that was besieging them, despite extreme external pressure and a significant lack of supply. This garrison would suffer nearly 4,000 casualties, most of whom were Australian. The Australian War Memorial states that 832 Australians from the 9th Division were killed during the siege.

The Rats of Tobruk are extraordinary, having given their lives to bear the toughest of conditions in the interest of our nation to serve as a significant part in the defence of democracy and freedom against the very real danger of dictatorship and tyranny. It's important to remember not just the sacrifice of the Rats but that these were just everyday Australians doing incredible things—everyday Australians like my great-uncle, Lyle Sidney Taylor, another Rat of Tobruk, who passed in 1972 before I was born. I remember my father speaking of his service with immense pride on a regular basis. You can find Lyle's name on the roll of honour in the Curlwaa Memorial Hall, ensuring his service is recognised through generations, alongside dozens of others who served from 1939 to 1945. It is important he is remembered like all the Rats of Tobruk, like all serving men and women throughout history, and collectively we do so. We do so in memorials like that on Anzac Parade, just over the way here in Canberra, and the tributes along the Northern Expressway in Adelaide, and in ceremonies on Anzac Day and on anniversaries commemorating fateful days where Australians would take up arms, and in our schools as we learn the national story as children.

We do this because the sacrifice of our service men and women from across our nation, wherever they may have been in the world in the past, helps give context to our values, our culture and the present; and because their experiences in serving our country have helped to forge the traits and qualities that we pride ourselves on today: things like Australian mateship and humour, Australian resilience and the unbreakable spirit of our people. In remembering our service men and women, and recognising the conscious decision an Aussie makes to commit themselves to defend our way of life, Australia traces a thread upon which the nation was spun and continues that story into the future.

The Rats of Tobruk, in the words they have written in the Australian story, likewise left an inspiring and enduring page in that book, underscoring by their actions the courage, comradeship and sheer determination of the Australian people, lighting the torch that Australians today will continue to pass on for generations to come. So while Tom Pritchard's passing is a significant loss for Australia, his life and the lives of the Rats of Tobruk will live on for as long as the Australian spirit itself. Thank you, Thomas Page Prichard, for your service. Rest in peace.

Angie Bell (Moncrieff, Liberal National Party, Shadow Minister for Early Childhood Education) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

I thank the member for Spence for his words and I invite him, if he has time, to stay for my contribution here as I will be talking about constituents from his electorate. It is with no doubt the biggest honour of an MP's life, and, indeed, of my life, to stand here in this place to speak about some of the heroes of World War II, those brave soldiers who faced the enemy in the Siege of Tobruk from 11 April to 10 December 1941—eight months of brutal fighting.

I start by paying tribute to the last Rat of Tobruk to pass, Thomas Page Pritchard. I extend my condolences to his family and pay tribute to his service to his country and to the Commonwealth. On the honour roll, which I looked up, he is listed as Tom, a driver, born 24 August 1921, which is not the same as what the member for Riverina just outlined, but I did look it up on the honour roll. VX23441 was his number, and he was in the 2nd/5th Field Ambulance unit. That would make him 103, if he were indeed alive today. Tom's service helped to preserve our freedom and rights as we enjoy them in a democratic nation today. We must continue to remember those who fought so bravely for us. I humbly thank him for his sacrifices and for those of all service men and women, past, present and into the future. I highlight those serving men and women at the Kokoda Barracks in Canungra, close to my electorate on the Gold Coast, and those of the 5th/11th Battery 9th Regiment Royal Australia Artillery, and B company 25th/49th Battalion, Royal Queensland Regiment, at Ashmore, in my electorate.

It was also the service and sacrifices of two brothers from Broken Hill—Hergott Springs, to be precise, which is now known as Marree, off the Oodnadatta Track in South Australia—that I would like to highlight for the house and for the history books. Colin Arthur, SX5015, born 26 September 1919, was 22; and Maurice Geoffery, SX5014, born 31 August 1921, was just 20. There was just two years between those two boys. Both privates served, unusually, in the same battalion, in the 2nd/43rd. They fought side-by-side to save each other and to save their families from the enemy. They fought for our democracy. They fought so we didn't have to. They fought with courage.

Colin and Maurice both returned from the war, but with injuries they lived with for the rest of our lives. Colin moved to Western Australia and was badly affected by the war. He isolated himself from the family unit until his passing, of which there are no details. The honour roll says he's still alive, actually! But, if he were, he would be 105 years old, and Tom Pritchard would not be the last to pass. So that scenario is fairly unlikely.

Here is a vignette from Elizabeth about Colin's younger brother, Maurice—here's where it gets hard—in South Australia. Circa 1975, a small girl sat on her old uncle Mott's knee, giggled about the hard lumps in his gnarled fingers and wondered innocently why he had a glass eye. He always smiled, and he never talked of the horrors of war, especially to children. But his family knew that he was the only soldier in Tobruk to step on an antipersonnel mine and survive to tell the tale. He lost an eye, and his legs were badly damaged in the blast. Not just his hands but his body too were riddled with shrapnel. That young, innocent girl was seven-year-old me. My grandmother, Doreen Marion Bell, after whom I am named, was born 16 March 1916, and she died on 13 August 2012, aged 96 years. Her much loved baby brothers, Maurice and Colin, both survived and both served together. They returned from Tobruk to marry and to have their own families.

To close, I want to thank driver Tom Pritchard for his service to our nation, to those who returned and, sadly, to those who never had the chance to start their own families. To all of the Rats of Tobruk and to the Bell brothers from Hergott Springs, thank you. On behalf of my dearly beloved grandmother, Doreen Marion—Colin and Mott's older sister—my father, Roger, his two brothers, Trevor and Ian, and my wider family, we will remember them. Lest we forget.

Terry Young (Longman, Liberal National Party) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

As quorum is not present, the Federation Chamber is now suspended. It'll be resumed once quorum is present.

Sitting suspended from 12:27 to 12:36

Dan Tehan (Wannon, Liberal Party, Shadow Minister for Immigration and Citizenship) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

It is a great honour to stand here and to remember Tom Pritchard, a Rat of Tobruk. I say that incredibly sincerely because I've had the great honour to go to Tobruk and to see where our Rats of Tobruk served. It's obviously a desolate spot in Libya. It is a port, but it's the smallest of ports, and there is nothing around it. It is desert, and where our Rats of Tobruk fought there are a couple of trees. There is no protection. There is no shelter. The way that they dug themselves in and fought on our behalf is something that I think is truly, truly remarkable. When you go there, it's hard to see the strategic importance that it had at the time, but it was seen as having immense strategic importance, and that is why they dug in and that is why they are legends of our country.

Tom himself was born in Portland in my electorate, and so there is a significant attachment to the electorate of Wannon when it comes to Tom's life. Also, he worked in Hamilton in my electorate. He was an SES employee and he worked in Hamilton for a period of time. I don't know this, but I can only imagine that he probably knew the other Rats of Tobruk from the electorate of Wannon. Jack Caple, who, sadly, passed away a few years ago, was another great Rat of Tobruk, whom I had the great honour of knowing, and I discussed with him what it was like to fight and serve at Tobruk. Having been there myself, I asked him questions about what they thought about defending the terrain there at Tobruk. When we went to Tobruk, we held a commemorative service at the war graves at Tobruk. It was extraordinarily moving. There is one thing that has never let me—and this is where the Commonwealth War Graves people need our utmost respect, and it was local Libyans who did it on their behalf. The way that those war graves are respected and are kept is exemplary and a true tribute to everyone. It's incredibly important that we always remember those who have served on our behalf and that we continue to remember them in the most dignified way for their service.

It was a great honour over the weekend to have Sir Peter Cosgrove and Lady Lynne Cosgrove visit the electorate of Wannon on Sunday, when they came to Warrnambool. Sir Peter is the most highly decorated officer ever to come to Warrnambool, and it was wonderful to have him. The community really appreciated his visit. He came to the local Legacy and spoke there, and he was able to thank those wonderful legatees for the work they do right across the electorate of Wannon. He then went to the cadets. We've got Navy, Army and Air Force cadets, and they were able to assemble and parade in front of him. It was wonderful to see these young cadets all doing their bit, many of them wanting to go on and serve their nation into the future, parading in front of him. They loved having him there, and it was great to see.

Then together we did the Vietnam veteran's commemorative event. As everyone knows, it was Vietnam Veterans' Day on Sunday, so we had a very moving commemorative event at the Warrnambool RSL. Sir Peter was able to lay a wreath. Then some of our Vietnam veterans gave a guest speech on what it was like in Vietnam during the war, and we were able to remember the service of Air Commodore Peter Raw. Air Commodore Peter Frank Raw was a senior officer and pilot in the Royal Australian Air Force. He saw combat in a heavy bomber unit in the European theatre during the later stages of World War II and was a senior officer in Vietnam, serving in many flying, training and administrative roles. The way that his role in particular in Vietnam was able to be laid out was incredibly important. I've got to say, it was great information to everyone who was there.

Just to give you a sense of the record of Air Commodore Peter Raw, he was a companion of the Distinguished Service Order, Distinguished Flying Cross, Air Force Cross, 1939-1945 Star, Africa Star, Defence War Medal 1939-1945, Australian Service Medal 1939-1945, Australian Active Service Medal 1945-1975 with the clasps 'VIETNAM' and 'SE ASIA', Vietnam Medal, Queen Elizabeth II's Silver Jubilee Medal 1977, Defence Force Service Medal with first, second, third and fourth clasps, National Medal with first and second clasps, Australian Defence Medal, Cross of Valour from Poland, Republic of Vietnam Campaign Medal and Warsaw Uprising Cross.

The way he served our nation was extraordinary. I say to Peter's wife: you should be rest assured that Peter's service at all times was exemplary, that he did his best and that he always tried to do the best by his nation. To our Vietnam veterans in Warrnambool and right across South-West Victoria, thank you for what you continue to do to commemorate the service of all those who fought in Vietnam. I end where I started. It is so important that we remember those who have served for us and do it in the most dignified and respectful way.

Barnaby Joyce (New England, National Party, Shadow Minister for Veterans' Affairs) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

I rise today as the shadow minister for veterans' affairs to speak about Tom Pritchard, who was one of many but the last of all the Rats of Tobruk. I think it's important to start with why Tobruk was important. Tobruk held a port. Holding that port meant that the delivery of resupplies had to come from Tripoli. Erwin Rommel, whose Afrika Korps was dominating the fight in North Africa, had a garrison of around about 12,000 or 14,000 that was holding their spot, and overwhelmingly they were Australians. If they lost it, then they wouldn't have to take the supplies from Tripoli; they could get supplies in from Tobruk. Holding it meant that Rommel had to take supplies from the Italians—they were fading a bit then—1,500 kilometres away. It was a bit like holding Brisbane and, because you hold Brisbane, the enemy having to resupply from Adelaide, so it was very important that they held out—not only from Adelaide; you'd have to be moving supplies from Adelaide across the desert. This gives you a sense of the importance of this. It was made up of the 9th Division and one from the 7th Division, and the brigades were the 20th, the 24th and the 26th. From the 7th Division it was the 15th. It talks about the period that went from 8 April to 25 October, but the final relief of the garrison didn't happen until December. I think it was the 2nd/13th Battalion that had to stay there until the final relief.

We know that during the day there was searing heat and that during the night it was freezing cold. There were real issues in trying to get fresh water up to them. There were dietary requirements. We also lost naval ships going in there. It was under siege. The Luftwaffe were bombing the naval vessels. We had Rommel in front of them and the Luftwaffe behind them, so this was really savage. It was during that period from April to October that 749 people were killed and 1,996 were injured. Of course, more were killed outside that period—it was about 832 for the whole of the process to the end of the sieges in December.

There was relief of the garrison in October, because—and I'm sure the Labor Party members are very aware of this—there was a move to make sure that we went back to the protection of Australia. That was incredibly important as well, and I think that was very wise move because our issues were closer to home, with the Japanese making their way down through the peninsula and, of course, into Papua New Guinea—Papua New Guinea being a protectorate of Australia. They were on land administered by Australia. I think it's very important we say that, because people say, 'The Japanese wouldn't have got to Australia,' but they did. They were bombing Darwin, bombing Broome and bombing Townsville, and they were on what was then the Australian protectorate of Papua New Guinea. They weren't wasting lives because there was no purpose to it. Once they got the port of Port Moresby, we were in real strife.

Why is that important? These people, after they'd finished with Tobruk, went to Papua New Guinea, and that's where Tom Pritchard went. Tom Pritchard, after he did his time as a medic in Tobruk, then had to go to Papua New Guinea. He went from the desert to the jungle. He got malaria twice. So, apart from being shot at and being bombed, he was also dealing with the afflictions of the diseases in these areas. People often lose sight of that. It's not just the enemy; it's the environment that can cause so many problems. If you've had malaria twice, it's not good for your health forevermore. It's a wonder he made it to the age he did.

What do we take from all this? The biggest thing about these people—and I think it's remarkable—is the sacrifice. Tom Pritchard put his age down wrong to go to war. I think his mates had gone off, and he wanted to be with them. His mother wasn't too happy about it, and that's often the case. My grandfather went off to war when he was 16. I've seen photos of him; he looks 16.

The issue is that these people, when they went off, had all the reasons to stay at home. They were young. They would have liked playing sport. They would have enjoyed life. They would have enjoyed time with their mates. They might have had a girlfriend, and the older ones might have had a wife. They had all the reasons to stay at home and all the reasons not to go, but they went. Why did they go? There are a range of reasons, but the core reason was that they were worried about Australia. They were worried about what would happen to our nation, and they had to do something about it. Inside their own hearts, they said, 'I'm going to do something about it; I'm going to make the sacrifice.' After they did all that, you'd think they would have come home and said: 'That'll do me. I have filled my book of service to this nation. I'm now over it.'

Tom Pritchard was a classic example. He came back and worked for the SES. He actually came back and continued on in the service for the nation. I saw that with a gentleman by the name of Gordon Phelps, to use an example, in St George every morning. He was in New Guinea as well, so it's pertinent to this. Every morning, before sunrise, he'd take his sheepdog, and he'd go down to the foreshore at St George. He'd walk on the path with a stick with a spike at the end of it and pick up the papers; he'd pick up the rubbish. I used to say to him: 'Why do you do that. You're an old man.' He would go, 'I love this country.' He would never have a go at people who dropped the papers. He just decided that he was going to get up every morning and pick them up. He was also in Rotary. When I looked at him, I just thought, 'It's just a life of service.' He offered his life and put his life on the line. Then he got home and just never stopped. That was apart from bringing up his family and looking after his grandkids. He never ever said: 'I want to get an Australia Day award' or anything like that. He said: 'It's my own business. I do it. I do it quietly and that's just the way it is.'

What Tom Pritchard and Gordon Phelps would say to us is, I believe: 'What type of people are you? Would you do it?' If the problems arose again, would people say, 'I'm off to North Africa' or 'I'm off to Papua New Guinea'? Would they do it, basically, without question? When they came home, would they just go back to work? Would they just say: 'I've done my bit. I'm back to work'? Are we as tough as them? Are we as resilient as them?

Unfortunately, circumstances have made it that—we live in a very special time, the people in this room. Your children and your grandkids are going to live in a different time because the world has changed. Totalitarianism, which Tom Pritchard was up against—the evilness of fascism and a regime that believed in destroying a race of people who were enslaved. It was not just the Jews but also the Gypsies. They believed the Slavic people were second-class citizens, and they just starved them in the prisoner of war camps. They threw them a couple of potatoes and watched the fun as they clawed over them like impoverished and famished people. This was the regime we were up against. It was bad. It was very bad; it was an evil regime.

My father was in the services during the Second World War; he got smashed up. My grandfather fought. They wouldn't even let you draw a swastika; it was just not allowed in the house. They absolutely, 100 per cent, held them in contempt. It was serious. There were certain things you were just not allowed to say in the house. What I can say about them—even about my father, who has passed away now—is that they had a real steel about them. They really disliked what they called 'malingerers', people who feigned an injury, who weren't quite perfect so therefore thought that they were afflicted. My dad was smashed up; his leg was mangled up. They just worked. They went to work and believed that your duty continued on—duty to your family and duty to your nation—and you muscled through. They would always say, ever since I was a young age—in a polite way, in a firm way and in a funny sort of quasi-compassionate way: 'You've got to suck it up, mate. Suck up your lemons and get going. Get through it.'

So the question for us when we look at Tom Pritchard, one of many but the last of all, is: have we still got that steel? Have we got it? Because we're going to need it. Do we instil that in our children and our grandchildren? Do we say to them: 'If you're really hurt, we've really got to look after you. But if you're only a little bit hurt, you've just got to deal with it. You've just got to deal with it and get through.'

We have now, again, the unfortunate rise of totalitarianism. It's there again. You've got unilateral control by a regime in the north which, once more, has incarcerated a little over a million people from the Uighur nation. It's just taking over areas.

What Tom Pritchard says to us right now—and I think it's important, on his passing—is that we have got to get that toughness back into us. We really have to, because, if we don't, we're going to lose this country. People think it'll just stay there. It won't. Read your history books. Things don't just stay there. If you're not tough enough, you lose them. So every parent has a responsibility, when their kid goes out on the soccer field, the footy field or the netball court, to say: 'You've got to muscle through this. You've got to deal with it.'

I want to give great thanks for the work of Tom Pritchard, the life of Tom Pritchard and the service of Tom Pritchard, but not just Tom alone. He was emblematic of all those 14,000 soldiers in the garrison of Tobruk and those who then went on to fight once more in Papua New Guinea, for the protection of our sacred land that we love so much. Tom makes us say, first and foremost, 'Thank you for everything you did.' It makes us respect the fact that they really didn't ask much for it. They just did it, and then they came home and went back to work. Most importantly, it says to us, if you're going to show any sort of respect for them, if you have it, the biggest thing you must never do is forget they did it. If you forget they did it, then you believe they did it for nothing, they did it for free. You believe that their life, their sacrifice, their marriages breaking up, those who were killed, those families who were decimated, those people who came back and their mind wasn't in the square it was when they went away, those careers that were just left behind, those who came back and were just lost, who died back in civilian life and ended up in an unmarked grave—you believe they did it for nothing, that we were entitled to them doing it, that we had an entitlement. We have no entitlement. We have a debt—no entitlement, a debt. That's why, for Tom Pritchard, we say, 'Thank you very much,' and, for all the others, we say, 'Lest we forget.'

Terry Young (Longman, Liberal National Party) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

I understand it is the wish of honourable members to signify at this stage their respect and sympathy by rising in their places.

Honourable members having stood in their places—

Alicia Payne (Canberra, Australian Labor Party) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

by leave—I move:

That further proceedings be conducted in the House.

Question agreed to.

Sitting suspended from 12:58 to 16:00