Lidia Thorpe (Victoria, Independent) Share this | Hansard source

I support the Veterans' Entitlements, Treatment and Support (Simplification and Harmonisation) Bill 2024 and I support veterans. Today I want to speak about a World War I veteran who is very close to my heart: my pop, Corporal Harry Thorpe, a Brabralung man of the Gunnai nation. Blackfellas were originally not allowed to serve, under the Defence Act 1903, but as enlistment numbers dwindled and the cost of horrific war grew, the government quietly shifted its stance, allowing First Nations people to serve—only when it suited the government, only when their sacrifice became necessary, but never with the full rights or recognition of those they fought beside.

Harry Thorpe was one of those men. He left his home on Lake Tyers Mission, where my family was displaced, to fight alongside thousands of men and women who hoped to do their part to fight for justice. When Pop left, Pop left his humpy behind. Out of respect, the locals left his old humpy untouched, waiting for his return. But like so many others, he never returned.

My pop, Lance Corporal Thorpe, was awarded the Military Medal and promoted to corporal for his courage and the leadership he showed during operations in Belgium on the night of 4 and 5 October 1917. On 9 August 1918, in France, a stretcher-bearer found him shot in the stomach. He died shortly afterwards and is now buried in the Heath Cemetery at Harbonnieres, France, with his mate William Rawlings, another First Nations Military Medal winner, who was killed on the same day.

Because Harry had been such a big part of the community, when he did not return, the lane where his humpy was left behind was named in his honour. It's now called Thorpes Lane. Thorpes Lane is now the site of the Lakes Entrance tip, right opposite a big mansion overlooking the ocean. This is the difference between how black and white soldiers are commemorated. So today I want to honour my pop and all the other First Nations men and women who fought in World War I and World War II. Their names, their sacrifices and their final resting places are too often forgotten and too often ignored.

Uncle Joe Flick, the grandson of Michael Flick, another black soldier, is changing that. His project, Bringing Their Spirits Home, is about truth, recognition and justice. He has spent years searching for the graves of First Nations soldiers buried overseas in France, Belgium, Egypt and Gallipoli, marking their names, tracing their stories and bringing them back to their families and their country. It's work that should've been done long, long ago.

We also have to reckon with what happened when our soldiers did return. White veterans were honoured, respected, celebrated and granted the land of First Peoples through the Soldier Settlement Scheme. They say 'leave no mate behind'; however, many First Nations veterans were given nothing—no land, no recognition and no mention. The very land they fought for was handed to others, while they were pushed aside, their service erased.

So I'm here today, refusing to let that history be buried. Through Uncle Joe Flick's work and through our voices, we are bringing the spirits home, not just in name but in the respect and honour they have always deserved, so their families will know where the final resting places of their ancestors are. We have all lost so many to violence. Wars have never brought justice, only more stolen land, more bloodshed and more broken promises. True honour lies not in conquest but in peace—and in returning what was taken and in refusing to fight wars that were never ours to begin with.