Alex Gallacher (SA, Australian Labor Party) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

I rise to make a contribution on the passing of a great South Australian. William Reid was born in Cummins on the Eyre Peninsula, South Australia, on 17 October 1920. He passed away on 25 May 2013, aged 92 years. Bill Reid was not a household name in South Australia; in fact, he lived a quiet, modest life. It was his contribution in his early years that leads me to call him a great South Australian.

Bill, along with his twin brothers, joined the AIF on 30 January 1941. The three brothers all served together in the 2nd/48th Battalion. The 2nd/48th Battalion was Australia's highest decorated unit of the Second World War. It was awarded four Victoria Crosses—three of them posthumously—and more than 80 other decorations. Battle honours in North Africa in 1941-42; the defence of Tobruk; the El Adem Road; the Salient 1941; Defence of Alamein Line, Tell el Eisa, El Alamein II, South-West Pacific 1943-45, Lae-Nadzab, Finschhafen, Defence of Scarlet Beach, Sattelberg, Borneo and Tarakan.

The battalion's size was between 800 and 900, all ranks. The Australian War Memorial records cite 318 died and 703 were wounded. This is the environment that Mr Reid and his two brothers signed up in. They signed up in 1941 and were very swiftly en route to the Middle East. Their mother, as you would well expect, was absolutely distraught at having three sons away at war. William, being the youngest, put the ultimatum to his parents: 'You sign the papers or I'll put my age up and go anyway.' Reluctantly, they did sign the papers. With that, the three brothers signed up at Wayville, as I have said, and very shortly after were in the Middle East. They fought through the Battle of Tobruk and through El Alamein.

In Bill's case, he was in a platoon was led by Thomas 'Diver' Derrick, who received a distinguished conduct medal and a VC. At Bill's funeral it was pointed out that he was the last surviving member of that platoon. A very distinguished soldier was present at that funeral and said: 'Bill was a good soldier, an efficient soldier, a tidy soldier, but not always all that respectful of authority.' I think lots of Australians and particularly lots of country South Australians can respect that.

There are many stories about the 2nd/48th. It is widely written about. There was a very interesting story told to me by Bill about when he and his mates were on a bit of recreational leave in Alexandria. A British army officer complained vociferously that they did not salute him. He then made a formal complaint to the commander of the 2nd/48th, who is alleged to have replied, 'I don't know what you're complaining about, mate; they don't salute me either.'

Another great story is that there was a visiting general smoking his pipe in his tented area and it was wafting over the troops. One of them had the affront to go up and ask for a bit of his pipe tobacco. The general was glad to share the pipe tobacco with the soldiers and asked, 'Have you no tobacco, boys?' They said, 'No. We haven't had any for two weeks.' The general then summoned the quartermaster in, who said that more urgent and important things than tobacco were to be looked after and he did not see any great urgency about that; whereupon the general replied, 'If you don't have the tobacco in here tomorrow, you will be sent back to find it personally.'

This is the sort of soldier that was created out of Tobruk. These blokes were hardly trained. In 1941 they were in Ile-de-France and then in the Middle East and fighting in the battle of Tobruk for eight months under the most appalling conditions. The reputation of their state and the reputation of their battalion is part of our history of the Second World War.

But there was a very human side to Bill Reid. He was my next-door neighbour for the 16 years that I have lived in my current house. My wife has lived in that street for something like 45 years, so she had known Mr Reid since she was a very small girl. To the whole street he was 'Mr Reid'. He was always a gentleman. He never had a harsh words to say about anybody. He was always immaculately attired. At any barbecue or function, whether it was Christmas or Easter, he was never without a box of chocolates or a bunch of flowers for particularly my wife who used to do a little bit of extra cooking on the odd occasion so that he was always replete.

He lived independently at home until he was 92. He was particularly proud of his own surroundings. He told an extraordinarily good yarn. He never gloried in war. In fact, he thought war was an appalling thing. His comments to my sons and other young men that were present at Easter or Christmas was, 'Look after yourselves and hope to Christ that you never have to go through that situation.'

We did have an Iraq and Afghanistan campaign veteran come by early this year. He had a good old chat with Bill Reid and said, 'I hope someone is writing down that man's recollections because they really are part of Australia's history.' Bill asked him, 'How many bayonet charges have you done, son?' The reply was, 'We don't fight wars like that anymore, sir.' Bill said, 'Thank God for that. I only done three, but they weren't easy.' We were in the presence of someone who at the age of 20 joined up with his two brothers to go off and fight the great cause and face five years of incessant warfare with a brief period at home only to be sent back to Tarakan in New Guinea and Papua New Guinea because they were Australia's best soldiers. They really did serve their country well. They made all of us proud.

The one thing I always do when I visit rural South Australia is seek out the soldiers' memorials. Just reading the names and looking at the increasing population versus what it was in 1940 or even in the Great War, you realise what an enormous contribution these people made to this country.

Bill led, as I said, a modest, unassuming life. He was never one to boast. In his early years he went in the Anzac Day marches, but in his later years he let those pass by. He did not mind getting on and having a bit of a yarn with his mates. He told me there was a time when he could not walk past a pub without going to the public bar. But fortunately he met his wife Sadie, and he and Sadie had a great life together. On retirement they travelled to all parts of Australia—Cape York, Darwin and over to the west. His main regret was that he never went over the ocean to Tasmania.

He is survived by Katie, Billy and Tony. In all his time living independently at home he was well supported by his family. He was never one for a complaint. He took ill and had a few pains early this year and unfortunately passed away on 25 May. He will be sadly missed by everyone who met him. He was a person who upheld all of the great principles of Aussie mateship. He would go to bat for his next-door neighbour who had a problem with a fence. He would go to bat for people. He had that extraordinary sense of fair play and an extraordinary sense of confidence and quiet determination which, as I have probably indicated, was earned in the most dire of circumstances, saving this great nation in that war; victory in which ultimately made us all safe and secure. He will be dearly missed by myself and my family personally, but I am sure he will be dearly missed by all those who would have known him.