It was 1972 or 73. I can't recall why I had hired a Mitsubishi Galant. It may simply have been the fact that they were a sporty little model and I thought it may have been fun to drive one for a couple of days.
That weekend someone had hosted a party in Hillside, Penang. It was, as most such evenings were, a rather convivial occasion. The evening progressed and many ales had been consumed. Late in the evening, still standing - after a fashion - I suggested to a mate who shall remain nameless that we take the Galant for a spin around the Island. He showed no hesitation.
We headed off in the direction of Batu Ferringhi. Back then the road was narrow, windy, rough, hilly and poorly lit, but that only added to the challenge. Brakes, down a gear or two, into the corner, pick a line and accelerate out with the rear drifting and a touch of apposite lock. On we went, corner after corner. With my mate shouting the encouraging words 'You can drive Ken, you're the best driver I've ever seen' over and over we continued to drift through corner after corner.
Approaching Batu Ferringhi I glanced at the fuel gauge and realised we were almost empty. We had only started our adventure and I could not recall any petrol stations around the back of the Island. Seeing no other option, I turned around and drove slowly home trying to conserve what fuel was left. Yes, we made it back.
That was the only smart decision I made that day. The next, and for some months after, my mate continued to rave about my driving ability. The next day, and to this, I wondered why we weren't dead.
Some young males may grow old because they were smart. This old male doesn't buy lottery tickets. My luck account is well and truly overdrawn.
Reflections of a Former Sprog
Monday, March 11, 2019
Sunday, January 6, 2019
Becoming a Hedgehog
On
15 May, 2010 Jessica Watson stepped of her yacht ‘Ella’s Pink Lady’
onto the forecourt of the Sydney Opera House after becoming the youngest
person ever to sail around the world solo and unassisted. She was met
by family, the media, politicians and a large crowd of well wishers.
This remarkable young woman had lived out her dream and in doing so
hoped to be an inspiration to other young people to also live out
theirs.
If you had asked me when I was a child what I wanted to be when I grew up you would invariably get one answer - ‘Join the air force.’ There were those fleeting moments of wanting to do something else, like being a missionary or Canadian Mountie - unless it was a Grenadier Guard, for I remember my brother wanting to be one and I the other - but the air force was the enduring dream of my childhood. Mum blames it on Mr Lee, my third and fourth class primary school teacher, who, according to Mum, had spent time in the service. But I suspect it was a steady diet of Biggles books combined with a love of history, especially the history of the glorious battle victories of the English Empire.
One day in year 10 - we called it fourth form back then - Mum came to me with an advertisement for the RAAF Apprenticeship Scheme. ‘If you’re so keen on joining the air force why don’t you fill this out?’ The completed application was probably in the post the next day.
I clearly recollect parts of the trip to Sydney that followed for the medical, assessment and interview. Mum and I caught the night train from South Grafton, sharing a sleeping compartment. ‘We can’t be in Sydney yet’, I assured Mum. ‘We haven’t crossed the harbour bridge.’ So we sat in the carriage at Central until the guard assured us we had arrived. He probably dined out for months on the story of the two country bumpkins he found in the carriage that day.
This was my first trip to Sydney. We stayed with Aunty Aileen and Uncle Stan and Aileen took some time to show us around the city. I remember riding up-stairs on the double-decker buses. We would have invariably had a ride on the ferries and Aileen bought a lottery ticket, naming it ‘City Country’ syndicate.
I remember doing what must have been a mechanical aptitude test. One question in particular had a picture of two interconnected cog wheels and we were asked if one turned in one direction to show with an arrow which direction the other would turn. We did a test for colour blindness and underwent a physical examination. This included ‘drop your pants and bend over’ and I clearly remember the doctor holding the delicate bits while I coughed. I recall little of the interview other than asking the interviewing officer if they played rugby league at Wagga and receiving his assurance that they did. This was one question not answered in the glossy booklet I had been sent with the reply to my application.
When it was almost too late Mum read again the letter telling me I had been provisionally accepted for enlistment in the following January pending surgery. We hurriedly arranged surgery for a varicocele of the left testicle - a procedure I was to repeat following my return from Butterworth to Melbourne in 1980. I was swollen, black, blue and tender for a few weeks following and the delay in arranging the surgery may well have been the reason for the late notification of my enlistment date and procedures.
Mum recalls the day this arrived. Hurried arrangements were made to organise someone to help out on the farm while Dad, Mum, David, and I drove to Sydney. I have no recollection of this trip other than, perhaps, staying in the Lane Cove Caravan Park. Mum reminds me as we drive up and down the F3 of the waits we had along this part of the journey while road gangs worked on the early stages of this freeway.
Three things stand out in my memory of this time. The first, Uncle Roy (Nana Marsh’s brother), saying ‘You air force blokes have the right idea, sending your officers out to fight’. This was at the height of the Vietnam war when young men were conscripted for military duty. I have a hazy recollection of a conversation of Mum’s I overheard describing how she had been talking to someone else obviously worried about their son being called up. Mum had uttered something like ‘Well, my son’s joining the air force and he could end up there.’ And I can still see Nana Marsh standing at the side of her house crying as we said farewell. At the time I thought nothing more of this than it being a normal farewell experience for many grandmothers.
In 2010 I was asked to say something in Church as part of our congregation's commemoration of ANZAC day. In preparation I reflected on and then related these events. While neither my Father or Grandfathers had served, as with many Australian families there were those on both sides of the family that had gone off to war never to return. Uncle Roy had been gassed and wounded in France during WW1. Memories of these events and the anxiety of having loved ones on active service were real and now I was enlisting as another war took its toll on Australia’s youth.
I also recalled stories of young men lying about their age in order to enlist in WW1. Little consideration was given to the horrors of war. To many of these young men it was a chance of adventure and travel. And I remembered how, just before leaving Wagga we filled in our posting preferences in order of one to three. Mine were designed to give me what I thought would be the best possible chance to go overseas. Williamtown I thought would give me the best chance and as it happened I did end up in Malaysia after spending just over two years at Williamtown. My other preferences were Richmond and Amberly where, depending on which squadron I was posted to, I had a chance of ending up in Vietnam. That this was a war zone and people got killed in such places never entered my reckoning. I was, in many ways, one of the fortunate ones who completed 20 years military service without being exposed to the horrors of war and suffering the consequences that have been so widely spoken about. But, for me, there remains that nagging doubt - if called upon to do so would I have performed my duty.
It was the 11th of January 1967 when I enlisted - two days before Mum’s birthday. My memories of that day are few and vague. Mum and Dad took me to the recruitment centre but I have no recollection of our farewell. I recall a room with some air force posters or charts on the wall. No doubt there was the obligatory photo of the Queen. From memory, the floor was covered in lino and we sat at desks. Here we committed our selves to the service of our country for the next nine years - with a 90 day get out clause - swore the oath of allegiance, and began to understand that not everyone who gave us an order was addressed as ‘Sir’. That evening we were escorted to Central Station where we caught the overnight train to Wagga Wagga, arriving, I think, around four o’clock in the morning. We were transported by bus from the train station to RAAF Base Forrest Hill which was to be our home for the next two and a half years. And it was here that we, the members of 21 apprentice intake, were given the name ‘Hedgehogs’ by the members of 20 intake (Squirrels) in the time honoured tradition.
Did I live out my dream? No. But I was to find out later that my dream was one I would never have been able to fulfil and in many ways what I had was better. My dream was to be a fighter pilot. Some time after I enlisted I heard there were height restrictions on fighter pilots - it seems that if you were too tall you would loose your knees if you ejected from a Mirage fighter jet. In recent years I have confirmed, courtesy of Google, that these restrictions still apply to fast jet aircrew. I was simply too tall for my dream.
From the day I enlisted I was enjoying myself so much that I gave little thought to flying. Life was an adventure. After my first posting to Butterworth I couldn't wait to return. My chances of a first posting would have been rather limited if I had been a pilot - or aircrew - of anything other than a Mirage. Other than the final two years in Headquarters Support Command prior to discharge I have only happy memories of my twenty years - great experiences and, more importantly, even greater friendships. And for much of the next 20 years I wondered if I had made a mistake leaving - sometimes I still do. But, intellectually, I realise it was the right decision for the time.
As for Vietnam, it is unlikely that a posting to Richmond or Amberly would have led me there. On my return to 38 Sqn from Butterworth in 1974 I renewed acquaintances with Bill Perry, a fellow Hedgehog and sumpy. Bill had received his posting but the decision to withdraw the troops was made before he embarked. While there may be some, I am unaware of anyone off my intake who served in ‘nam.
As I reflect on my life and the experience of Jessica Watson I realise that not everyone has the opportunity to fulfil their dreams. In Jessica’s case she needed the parents, resources and contacts to make it happen. Not every 16 year old has that. In my case the dream worked out differently to what I had imagined. The apprentice experience was something unique and special, valued to this day by many former apprentices. And while I had some very good friends who were not apprentices I realise looking back that most of the friendships I developed in the service after leaving Wagga and those I would most love to meet up with again are former apprentices.
January 2011
If you had asked me when I was a child what I wanted to be when I grew up you would invariably get one answer - ‘Join the air force.’ There were those fleeting moments of wanting to do something else, like being a missionary or Canadian Mountie - unless it was a Grenadier Guard, for I remember my brother wanting to be one and I the other - but the air force was the enduring dream of my childhood. Mum blames it on Mr Lee, my third and fourth class primary school teacher, who, according to Mum, had spent time in the service. But I suspect it was a steady diet of Biggles books combined with a love of history, especially the history of the glorious battle victories of the English Empire.
One day in year 10 - we called it fourth form back then - Mum came to me with an advertisement for the RAAF Apprenticeship Scheme. ‘If you’re so keen on joining the air force why don’t you fill this out?’ The completed application was probably in the post the next day.
I clearly recollect parts of the trip to Sydney that followed for the medical, assessment and interview. Mum and I caught the night train from South Grafton, sharing a sleeping compartment. ‘We can’t be in Sydney yet’, I assured Mum. ‘We haven’t crossed the harbour bridge.’ So we sat in the carriage at Central until the guard assured us we had arrived. He probably dined out for months on the story of the two country bumpkins he found in the carriage that day.
This was my first trip to Sydney. We stayed with Aunty Aileen and Uncle Stan and Aileen took some time to show us around the city. I remember riding up-stairs on the double-decker buses. We would have invariably had a ride on the ferries and Aileen bought a lottery ticket, naming it ‘City Country’ syndicate.
I remember doing what must have been a mechanical aptitude test. One question in particular had a picture of two interconnected cog wheels and we were asked if one turned in one direction to show with an arrow which direction the other would turn. We did a test for colour blindness and underwent a physical examination. This included ‘drop your pants and bend over’ and I clearly remember the doctor holding the delicate bits while I coughed. I recall little of the interview other than asking the interviewing officer if they played rugby league at Wagga and receiving his assurance that they did. This was one question not answered in the glossy booklet I had been sent with the reply to my application.
When it was almost too late Mum read again the letter telling me I had been provisionally accepted for enlistment in the following January pending surgery. We hurriedly arranged surgery for a varicocele of the left testicle - a procedure I was to repeat following my return from Butterworth to Melbourne in 1980. I was swollen, black, blue and tender for a few weeks following and the delay in arranging the surgery may well have been the reason for the late notification of my enlistment date and procedures.
Mum recalls the day this arrived. Hurried arrangements were made to organise someone to help out on the farm while Dad, Mum, David, and I drove to Sydney. I have no recollection of this trip other than, perhaps, staying in the Lane Cove Caravan Park. Mum reminds me as we drive up and down the F3 of the waits we had along this part of the journey while road gangs worked on the early stages of this freeway.
Three things stand out in my memory of this time. The first, Uncle Roy (Nana Marsh’s brother), saying ‘You air force blokes have the right idea, sending your officers out to fight’. This was at the height of the Vietnam war when young men were conscripted for military duty. I have a hazy recollection of a conversation of Mum’s I overheard describing how she had been talking to someone else obviously worried about their son being called up. Mum had uttered something like ‘Well, my son’s joining the air force and he could end up there.’ And I can still see Nana Marsh standing at the side of her house crying as we said farewell. At the time I thought nothing more of this than it being a normal farewell experience for many grandmothers.
In 2010 I was asked to say something in Church as part of our congregation's commemoration of ANZAC day. In preparation I reflected on and then related these events. While neither my Father or Grandfathers had served, as with many Australian families there were those on both sides of the family that had gone off to war never to return. Uncle Roy had been gassed and wounded in France during WW1. Memories of these events and the anxiety of having loved ones on active service were real and now I was enlisting as another war took its toll on Australia’s youth.
I also recalled stories of young men lying about their age in order to enlist in WW1. Little consideration was given to the horrors of war. To many of these young men it was a chance of adventure and travel. And I remembered how, just before leaving Wagga we filled in our posting preferences in order of one to three. Mine were designed to give me what I thought would be the best possible chance to go overseas. Williamtown I thought would give me the best chance and as it happened I did end up in Malaysia after spending just over two years at Williamtown. My other preferences were Richmond and Amberly where, depending on which squadron I was posted to, I had a chance of ending up in Vietnam. That this was a war zone and people got killed in such places never entered my reckoning. I was, in many ways, one of the fortunate ones who completed 20 years military service without being exposed to the horrors of war and suffering the consequences that have been so widely spoken about. But, for me, there remains that nagging doubt - if called upon to do so would I have performed my duty.
It was the 11th of January 1967 when I enlisted - two days before Mum’s birthday. My memories of that day are few and vague. Mum and Dad took me to the recruitment centre but I have no recollection of our farewell. I recall a room with some air force posters or charts on the wall. No doubt there was the obligatory photo of the Queen. From memory, the floor was covered in lino and we sat at desks. Here we committed our selves to the service of our country for the next nine years - with a 90 day get out clause - swore the oath of allegiance, and began to understand that not everyone who gave us an order was addressed as ‘Sir’. That evening we were escorted to Central Station where we caught the overnight train to Wagga Wagga, arriving, I think, around four o’clock in the morning. We were transported by bus from the train station to RAAF Base Forrest Hill which was to be our home for the next two and a half years. And it was here that we, the members of 21 apprentice intake, were given the name ‘Hedgehogs’ by the members of 20 intake (Squirrels) in the time honoured tradition.
Did I live out my dream? No. But I was to find out later that my dream was one I would never have been able to fulfil and in many ways what I had was better. My dream was to be a fighter pilot. Some time after I enlisted I heard there were height restrictions on fighter pilots - it seems that if you were too tall you would loose your knees if you ejected from a Mirage fighter jet. In recent years I have confirmed, courtesy of Google, that these restrictions still apply to fast jet aircrew. I was simply too tall for my dream.
From the day I enlisted I was enjoying myself so much that I gave little thought to flying. Life was an adventure. After my first posting to Butterworth I couldn't wait to return. My chances of a first posting would have been rather limited if I had been a pilot - or aircrew - of anything other than a Mirage. Other than the final two years in Headquarters Support Command prior to discharge I have only happy memories of my twenty years - great experiences and, more importantly, even greater friendships. And for much of the next 20 years I wondered if I had made a mistake leaving - sometimes I still do. But, intellectually, I realise it was the right decision for the time.
As for Vietnam, it is unlikely that a posting to Richmond or Amberly would have led me there. On my return to 38 Sqn from Butterworth in 1974 I renewed acquaintances with Bill Perry, a fellow Hedgehog and sumpy. Bill had received his posting but the decision to withdraw the troops was made before he embarked. While there may be some, I am unaware of anyone off my intake who served in ‘nam.
As I reflect on my life and the experience of Jessica Watson I realise that not everyone has the opportunity to fulfil their dreams. In Jessica’s case she needed the parents, resources and contacts to make it happen. Not every 16 year old has that. In my case the dream worked out differently to what I had imagined. The apprentice experience was something unique and special, valued to this day by many former apprentices. And while I had some very good friends who were not apprentices I realise looking back that most of the friendships I developed in the service after leaving Wagga and those I would most love to meet up with again are former apprentices.
January 2011
Saturday, June 23, 2018
ASCO's Pay Plans
Twelve dollars a week won’t get you anywhere today. Back in 1967, as a first year RAAF apprentice, that was what we were paid, and it didn’t go much further back then.
Not that our needs were great - our meals and board were provided for a small deduction from our pay, and we were issued with our uniforms and overalls. During our first six weeks we were confined to Base. After that we were allowed into town, but only on Friday after stand down, Saturday and Sunday with strict curfews of 2200 or 2300 hours. So we needed money for the little luxuries - and, of course, entertainment.
These were primitive days. No Ipads, internet, Facebook. There may have been a black and white TV set in the Apprentice Club, but we had none in barracks. My communication with the world outside the Base was via my National Panasonic 8 transistor radio. This was a Christmas present from Mum and Dad and in those days I am sure it must have been rather expensive for them. Dad’s brother-in-law, Uncle Stan, had helped ease the pain by buying it cheaper in Sydney than was possible on the Clarence.
The only radio station that gave anything like reasonable reception was 2WG. This brought a mix of news, sport, weather and other topics of interest to the region. Sixteen year old RAAF apprentices did not however have a passion for all the news of sheep and cattle sales and other matters of interest to the agricultural community. I do however remember listening to a Rugby League test between Australia and England on their shores at some obscene hour of the morning.
That’s where ASCO - the Australian Services Canteen Organisation - came to the rescue. As well as providing an on-base canteen service with things like milkshakes, burgers, snacks they provided a range of goods we could purchase on a six or 12 pay plan. I can’t remember how their prices compared to off base but the pay plans didn’t charge interest.
I remember buying two items on the system without remembering if I used the six or twelve pay plan. One was a National open reel tape recorder with something like a 5 inch or smaller tape reel. Somehow I managed to record music on to this either from the radio or from the records of mates. Normie Rowes ‘Going Home’ was released in April 1967 and I played this over and over in the lead up to our mid-year leave period when we were allowed to return home for two weeks. My friend from school Noel Green had quite a record collection and I used this time and the quietness of his lounge room to record a reasonable collection of music.
It wasn’t all that long ago that I came across the recorder in my garage. It was still packed in it original box. The tape was brittle and one of the tape rollers was broken so it made its way into landfill.
The other purchase was a Gevarm A6 semi automatic .22 rifle with a 6 round magazine and a telescopic sight. After I left Wagga I left this with Dad so he could use it on the farm and he eventually surrendered it to the Police when the gun laws were changed.
The rifle however was a bit of a problem. It was against the rules for us to keep firearms in the barracks and we were meant to deposit them in the Base Armoury for safe keeping. It was not a rule I and others were inclined to keep however and I ended up with two shotguns as well as the rifle before I left Wagga - a 12 gauge and a 410. I shared a room with three others and we all had firearms. We found a place to secure them above our wardrobes and despite numerous raids by the Service Police looking for contraband they never found them.
It amazes me looking back how casual we were considering the consequences of getting caught. Not long into the second half of my first year a group of us walked casually down the railway track that ran through the Base to go shooting in the farming area around the Base. When we finished we walked back the same way. If we wanted to go out shooting on the weekends we would carry the rifles and guns to a car and I can’t remember taking any real measures to avoid detection. Perhaps it was simply that as teenagers we felt bullet proof - no pun intended.
I did eventually come unstuck though. My roommates and I had been on a weekend shooting trip and on return I left my rifle tucked under the bench seat of my mates car, thinking no more about it. However it finally became dislodged and was found by the Service Police (Spits we called them) on a snooping trip around the car park. We were sitting in an instructional period when they came and called my mate out, then a few minutes later, me. As a result he got 5 days confined to barracks, I got ten. The rifle of course ended up in the Armoury and probably stayed there till we graduated. Not that I really needed it, I still had the shot guns.
ASCO has operated under different names since being established in 1915 and continues to this day. It is now known as the Army and Air Force Canteen Service, a not-for-profit organisation operating in the interests of the welfare of soldiers, airmen & airwomen.
Sunday, April 29, 2018
Welcome to the Real Air Force
I graduated from Wagga Wagga on 26th June 1969. This was farewell to many of those I had come to know over the last 2 ½ years. Some I would catch up with again over the ensuing years but there are many I haven't seen since.
I took a couple of weeks leave, travelling home in convoy with my parents and brother who had traveled to Wagga for our graduation. David must have traveled with me but I have little recollection of the trip.
Leave completed Aircraftman Marsh reported for duty at 77 Squadron Williamtown. 77 had recently returned from Butterworth to be reequipped with Mirages, the last squadron to do so. Memory tells me the Squadron had three bright, shiny new fighters at the time. Being unpainted they glared in the sunshine and could be rather hard on the eyes. Our Commanding Officer at the time was Squadron Leader Jim Treadwell who would be replaced as the Squadron came up to full strength with Wing Commander Bill Simmonds. Both men had served in Korea where Simmonds had been Mentioned in Dispatches. Of recent years I have become reacquainted with Jim through the Air Force Association.
Bill had a thing about hair - he had an aversion to it being short. A few years back I was told by one of the Squadron’s pilots from the time that officers were not allowed to get a haircut until he approved. I remember one trip to Darwin when the troops were banned from the airmen’s mess and the CO from the Officers’ mess until we all had regulation haircuts.
The ‘hair problem’ however was not limited to 77 Squadron. It was part of the culture at Williamtown until, some time after I departed for Butterworth, the Base got a new Officer Commanding. It did not take long until short back and sides were again the order of the day.
It wasn’t just the matter of hair. Williamtown was much more relaxed than Wagga Wagga. No longer did we line up in flights and march to work, lunch or anywhere else. Such regimentation would have cost operational efficiency. Gone were the continual reminders to straighten our arms or to get them up as we moved around the Base. Neither was it ‘yes sergeant’ or ‘no corporal’, especially in the hangar environment. Generally it was first name basis with our non-commissioned officers, although the commissioned ranks were always addressed as ‘sir.’
Panic night remained, this being essential as we continued to be responsible for the cleanliness of our rooms and barracks in general, including the ablutions. However the open cupboard inspections were a thing of the past as were the much hated bed rolls.
During my first six months at Wagga I had lived in a two story brick building. From there we moved to newly completed three story barracks that became our home for the next two years. This was in sharp contrast to my initial accommodation at Williamtown.
On arrival at Williamtown I shared a two-bed room in a hut that was a relic of WW2 and no doubt riddled with asbestos. In places the floor moved under our feet indicating it was well past its use by date. The ablution block was separate which meant exposure to the natural environment during trips to the toilets or showers. My roommate was Blue Bailey, a
Framie off my intake and Wayne Scholtz, another 21 Intake Framie lived in the adjoining room. There was some great after hours socialising in that old block but I did eventually move to a modern, two-story brick one. These were more comfortable although there were four to the room. One advantage was the fact the ablutions were part of the block.
There were six engine fitters (Sumpies) as I recall from our intake posted to Williamtown. I was the only one from A Flight and as I remember the only one posted to 77. My closest mates at Wagga had been posted to other bases so new friendships were formed. These included older blokes who took this impressionable, somewhat gullible, new chum under their wings, including those off earlier apprentice intakes. I know they tried to keep me on the straight and narrow, but it seemed to have been covered with oil spills - or maybe the fact we were Sumpies meant it just oozed out of us. Then again there was a Framie or two, and dare I mention that Sparky who drove us home from the Nelson Bay RSL with a hand over one eye to stop him seeing double more than once..
Of course I already knew blokes off 20, and there was a special bond between the ex-apprentice fraternity. Many of my closest mates, not only at Williamtown but throughout my career, were former appies. Technically ours was a five year apprenticeship so we were only halfway through that when we graduated. However it made no practical difference in the field. We were qualified RAAF tradesmen - no women in the trades back then - and were treated exactly the same as our peers.
That didn’t mean we were automatically authorised to work on specific aircraft or tasks. We were, for example, shown how to do a before flight inspection, refuel, do an engine change, etc. Then we would be supervised as we did the task until our supervisors were confident we could do the task properly. When I look back at my service records I see I was still being authorised to do some Mirage tasks when in Butterworth well over two years after arriving at Williamtown. For the first six months out of Wagga I was employed in Maintenance Control Section - an experience I have previously written about - which delayed further trade-specific experience.
There were two Mirage squadrons at Williamtown - 76 and 77. These were supported by 481 Maintenance Squadron. Engine fitters in Mirage squadrons did limited maintenance and repair tasks. Major servicing and repair tasks were carried out in the Engine Repair Section (ERS) of the maintenance squadron. Sumpies were attached to ERS for six months to gain experience in these deeper level tasks and I spent six months there before being posted to Butterworth.
I remember my first trip into Newcastle, only a few nights I arrived. Newcastle was a steel town back then and you really could see the air you breathed and this meant heavy fogs at times. Another night I had a burger at a cafe in Raymond Terrace. As I sat there this rather large bloke in a leather jacket walked up to his bike - probably a Honda 350 - and pressed the starter button. Being used to seeing the kick start it looked most out of place.
This was before the bridge over the Hunter into Newcastle. Saturday morning trips to town were a regular feature - I think the shops closed at lunchtime back then. It was common to park at Stockton and catch the passenger ferry to town. A regular Saturday morning haunt was a pub on the corner Hunter Street and another. This provided a great viewing platform along the side wall where we could sit with our refreshments and watch through the window as the young ladies of Newcastle paraded past in their rather short mini’s.
Nelson Bay proved a popular spot. In those days the road to the Bay was a narrow, sealed one - at least most of the way - with few opportunities to overtake. The Bay was small compared to what is now and it was here that I tried my hand at snorkeling and spearfishing, something I didn’t continue after I left. Then there was the ANZAC Day the Col Winter, a 19 intake Sumpy, told me to dress in uniform and accompany him to the Bay RSL. He assured me we wouldn’t have to buy a beer all day, that the old diggers would look after us. And they did.
Williamtown had an active car club of which I was a member. I competed in different events, including at least one rally, in my Austin Lancer Mk 2. There was also the day trip to Oran Park Raceway in South West Sydney to do a Peter Wherrett advanced driving course. Oran Park was a popular race track back then and I remember a few trips down to enjoy the racing.
It was a most enjoyable day, hanging the rear out around Creek Corner of my Falcon Ute and who remembers what else. The only thing that spoilt the day was a cop on the way home who was obviously not impressed with my new skills.
And how can I forget Hubey Parrish, a Pommy RadTech. He had a sports car - possibly an MG Midget. And he also had the gift of the gab. The story goes that one evening he was driving around Newcastle when he drew the attention of a police officer. He drove over a bridge and while out of sight of the officer did a hand brake turn and headed back the other way. Once on the other side he repeated the manoeuvre. This may have happened a few times until the office finally caught him. Then, it being raining Hubey invited the Officer to sit in the passenger seat out of the rain while they got to know each other a little better.
It was in my first months here that I was ordered to the Padre’s office. My Grandfather had been ill for some time and as I walked in the door I said ‘It’s my Grandfather isn’t it.’ ‘Yes’ he replied. Williamtown was something like a 7 hour drive from home and so I was able to take a few days off the attend the funeral. Of my four grandparents Pa Marsh’s funeral was the only one I attended. And as far as postings go, in the first six months of my first two - Wagga Wagga and Williamtown - I lost my great-grandmother and my grandfather.
I arrived at Williamtown in July 1969 and left for Butterworth in September 1971. Other than the sadness of my Grandfather’s death I have many good memories - far too many to record here. It was not until I moved to Sydney for work in 1996, nine years after my discharge, that I returned to the Port Stephens area. I could not believe how much it had changed. As for Williamtown itself, some years ago now I attended a Mirage era reunion. We were meant to meet at Fighter World and get bused onto the Base but the drive had a rostered day off - unheard of in my day. So they allowed us to drive onto the base if we had our driver’s license as identity. What a shamozzle. The reunion was in the 76 Squadron hangar but we were left to our own devices to find it. The roads had changed and the route I would have taken back in 1970 was closed off. This left a lot of civilians driving around a RAAF Base in utter confusion until somehow we found our way to the hanger. So much for security.
I took a couple of weeks leave, travelling home in convoy with my parents and brother who had traveled to Wagga for our graduation. David must have traveled with me but I have little recollection of the trip.
Leave completed Aircraftman Marsh reported for duty at 77 Squadron Williamtown. 77 had recently returned from Butterworth to be reequipped with Mirages, the last squadron to do so. Memory tells me the Squadron had three bright, shiny new fighters at the time. Being unpainted they glared in the sunshine and could be rather hard on the eyes. Our Commanding Officer at the time was Squadron Leader Jim Treadwell who would be replaced as the Squadron came up to full strength with Wing Commander Bill Simmonds. Both men had served in Korea where Simmonds had been Mentioned in Dispatches. Of recent years I have become reacquainted with Jim through the Air Force Association.
Bill had a thing about hair - he had an aversion to it being short. A few years back I was told by one of the Squadron’s pilots from the time that officers were not allowed to get a haircut until he approved. I remember one trip to Darwin when the troops were banned from the airmen’s mess and the CO from the Officers’ mess until we all had regulation haircuts.
The ‘hair problem’ however was not limited to 77 Squadron. It was part of the culture at Williamtown until, some time after I departed for Butterworth, the Base got a new Officer Commanding. It did not take long until short back and sides were again the order of the day.
It wasn’t just the matter of hair. Williamtown was much more relaxed than Wagga Wagga. No longer did we line up in flights and march to work, lunch or anywhere else. Such regimentation would have cost operational efficiency. Gone were the continual reminders to straighten our arms or to get them up as we moved around the Base. Neither was it ‘yes sergeant’ or ‘no corporal’, especially in the hangar environment. Generally it was first name basis with our non-commissioned officers, although the commissioned ranks were always addressed as ‘sir.’
Panic night remained, this being essential as we continued to be responsible for the cleanliness of our rooms and barracks in general, including the ablutions. However the open cupboard inspections were a thing of the past as were the much hated bed rolls.
During my first six months at Wagga I had lived in a two story brick building. From there we moved to newly completed three story barracks that became our home for the next two years. This was in sharp contrast to my initial accommodation at Williamtown.
On arrival at Williamtown I shared a two-bed room in a hut that was a relic of WW2 and no doubt riddled with asbestos. In places the floor moved under our feet indicating it was well past its use by date. The ablution block was separate which meant exposure to the natural environment during trips to the toilets or showers. My roommate was Blue Bailey, a
Framie off my intake and Wayne Scholtz, another 21 Intake Framie lived in the adjoining room. There was some great after hours socialising in that old block but I did eventually move to a modern, two-story brick one. These were more comfortable although there were four to the room. One advantage was the fact the ablutions were part of the block.
There were six engine fitters (Sumpies) as I recall from our intake posted to Williamtown. I was the only one from A Flight and as I remember the only one posted to 77. My closest mates at Wagga had been posted to other bases so new friendships were formed. These included older blokes who took this impressionable, somewhat gullible, new chum under their wings, including those off earlier apprentice intakes. I know they tried to keep me on the straight and narrow, but it seemed to have been covered with oil spills - or maybe the fact we were Sumpies meant it just oozed out of us. Then again there was a Framie or two, and dare I mention that Sparky who drove us home from the Nelson Bay RSL with a hand over one eye to stop him seeing double more than once..
Of course I already knew blokes off 20, and there was a special bond between the ex-apprentice fraternity. Many of my closest mates, not only at Williamtown but throughout my career, were former appies. Technically ours was a five year apprenticeship so we were only halfway through that when we graduated. However it made no practical difference in the field. We were qualified RAAF tradesmen - no women in the trades back then - and were treated exactly the same as our peers.
That didn’t mean we were automatically authorised to work on specific aircraft or tasks. We were, for example, shown how to do a before flight inspection, refuel, do an engine change, etc. Then we would be supervised as we did the task until our supervisors were confident we could do the task properly. When I look back at my service records I see I was still being authorised to do some Mirage tasks when in Butterworth well over two years after arriving at Williamtown. For the first six months out of Wagga I was employed in Maintenance Control Section - an experience I have previously written about - which delayed further trade-specific experience.
There were two Mirage squadrons at Williamtown - 76 and 77. These were supported by 481 Maintenance Squadron. Engine fitters in Mirage squadrons did limited maintenance and repair tasks. Major servicing and repair tasks were carried out in the Engine Repair Section (ERS) of the maintenance squadron. Sumpies were attached to ERS for six months to gain experience in these deeper level tasks and I spent six months there before being posted to Butterworth.
I remember my first trip into Newcastle, only a few nights I arrived. Newcastle was a steel town back then and you really could see the air you breathed and this meant heavy fogs at times. Another night I had a burger at a cafe in Raymond Terrace. As I sat there this rather large bloke in a leather jacket walked up to his bike - probably a Honda 350 - and pressed the starter button. Being used to seeing the kick start it looked most out of place.
This was before the bridge over the Hunter into Newcastle. Saturday morning trips to town were a regular feature - I think the shops closed at lunchtime back then. It was common to park at Stockton and catch the passenger ferry to town. A regular Saturday morning haunt was a pub on the corner Hunter Street and another. This provided a great viewing platform along the side wall where we could sit with our refreshments and watch through the window as the young ladies of Newcastle paraded past in their rather short mini’s.
Nelson Bay proved a popular spot. In those days the road to the Bay was a narrow, sealed one - at least most of the way - with few opportunities to overtake. The Bay was small compared to what is now and it was here that I tried my hand at snorkeling and spearfishing, something I didn’t continue after I left. Then there was the ANZAC Day the Col Winter, a 19 intake Sumpy, told me to dress in uniform and accompany him to the Bay RSL. He assured me we wouldn’t have to buy a beer all day, that the old diggers would look after us. And they did.
Williamtown had an active car club of which I was a member. I competed in different events, including at least one rally, in my Austin Lancer Mk 2. There was also the day trip to Oran Park Raceway in South West Sydney to do a Peter Wherrett advanced driving course. Oran Park was a popular race track back then and I remember a few trips down to enjoy the racing.
It was a most enjoyable day, hanging the rear out around Creek Corner of my Falcon Ute and who remembers what else. The only thing that spoilt the day was a cop on the way home who was obviously not impressed with my new skills.
And how can I forget Hubey Parrish, a Pommy RadTech. He had a sports car - possibly an MG Midget. And he also had the gift of the gab. The story goes that one evening he was driving around Newcastle when he drew the attention of a police officer. He drove over a bridge and while out of sight of the officer did a hand brake turn and headed back the other way. Once on the other side he repeated the manoeuvre. This may have happened a few times until the office finally caught him. Then, it being raining Hubey invited the Officer to sit in the passenger seat out of the rain while they got to know each other a little better.
It was in my first months here that I was ordered to the Padre’s office. My Grandfather had been ill for some time and as I walked in the door I said ‘It’s my Grandfather isn’t it.’ ‘Yes’ he replied. Williamtown was something like a 7 hour drive from home and so I was able to take a few days off the attend the funeral. Of my four grandparents Pa Marsh’s funeral was the only one I attended. And as far as postings go, in the first six months of my first two - Wagga Wagga and Williamtown - I lost my great-grandmother and my grandfather.
I arrived at Williamtown in July 1969 and left for Butterworth in September 1971. Other than the sadness of my Grandfather’s death I have many good memories - far too many to record here. It was not until I moved to Sydney for work in 1996, nine years after my discharge, that I returned to the Port Stephens area. I could not believe how much it had changed. As for Williamtown itself, some years ago now I attended a Mirage era reunion. We were meant to meet at Fighter World and get bused onto the Base but the drive had a rostered day off - unheard of in my day. So they allowed us to drive onto the base if we had our driver’s license as identity. What a shamozzle. The reunion was in the 76 Squadron hangar but we were left to our own devices to find it. The roads had changed and the route I would have taken back in 1970 was closed off. This left a lot of civilians driving around a RAAF Base in utter confusion until somehow we found our way to the hanger. So much for security.
Tuesday, April 24, 2018
I Am a Veteran
'The only way human beings can win a war is to prevent it.' General George C. Marshall
I am a veteran of 20 years service with the Australian Defence Force (ADF). While I now wear that title with pride it took me almost 20 years after I separated from the ADF before I felt comfortable doing so. In fact, I wondered if I even had the right to be called a veteran.
Australian troops were heavily committed to the Vietnam war when I joined the RAAF as a 16 year old apprentice in 1967 but that commitment ceased in early 1973 before my turn came. So most of my career was in the post Vietnam period and came to an end before Desert Storm.
I never fought the 'war within', not wanting to let my 'mates down' while knowing that 'each step could mean your last one on two legs.' My experience was not of 'mud and blood and tears', of seeing mates shot down, and living with the memory of 'Frankie, drinking tinnies in the Grand Hotel on a thirty six hour rec. leave in Vung Tau.'
Night for me is not 'a jungle dark and a barking M16.' The 'Channel 7 chopper' doesn't chill 'me to my feet', and I am not troubled by 'this rash that comes and goes'. No, neither I or my family live with the aftermath of the terror of war as do too many others.
How then can I call myself a veteran, join their fellowship and march beside them on Anzac Day? I was never tested and proved myself as they had.
After I left the Service I gradually lost contact with most of those I had served with. As time passed I missed the camaraderie and the mate ships, thinking I had lost these forever. I wondered if I could join the Anzac day march but then I reasoned it was for those 'real veterans', not for peace time wannabes like me. Eventually a phone call to the RSL confirmed my entitlement to march and to my reconnecting with what is a very important and significant part of my life.
It was at the 2005 march in Sydney – probably the first one I participated in - that I met another ex-apprentice from an earlier intake. He told me about a reunion my intake was holding later that year and put me in touch with an old mate in Melbourne who had the details. As a result of that contact I am back in touch with former mates. I have joined my local RSL sub-branch, the RAAF Association and the 77 Squadron Association. Now I attend reunions, sub-branch meetings and association functions. As well as renewing old friendships I am enjoying the fellowship of the wider ex-service community.
This, however, is not why I wear the title 'veteran' with pride. Rather, it is a recognition and acceptance of my service and that of others of my generation of service men and women for what it was and what it did.
I served five years with 75 Squadron at Butterworth Air Base in Penang, Malaysia in the 1970s. Throughout the 1970s and most of the 80s the RAAF maintained two fighter squadrons plus a maintenance and base squadron as part of Australia's treaty obligations to Malaysia and Singapore. The RAAF presence was maintained to act as a deterrent against external aggression and was established at a time of regional instability. At the time the Malaysian armed forces were engaged in an internal war against communist insurgents bent on overthrowing the Malaysian Government that only came to an end in 1989.
From 1947 to the present day Australian military personnel have been involved in peace keeping operations in different trouble spots around the globe – the Middle East, Africa, Kashmir, Korea, South East Asia and the Pacific. Australians were the first to participate in United Nations peace keeping operations anywhere in the world when they entered Indonesia in 1947 – a proud record.
In December 1974 I was serving on Caribous with 38 Squadron at Richmond when Cyclone Tracy devastated Darwin. In the aftermath of Tracy my mates who worked with the Hercules squadrons down the tarmac, including those with 486 Maintenance Squadron, worked tirelessly in support of the largest air lift this country has seen. The Australian Military have a long history of coming to the aid of their fellow Australians in times of natural disaster as well as responding to disasters in other countries in the Pacific region and beyond.
My generation of service men and women may not have endured the horrors and privation of Vietnam, Korea or Afghanistan. What we did do was maintain a strong and well-trained defence infrastructure which of itself was a strong deterrence to aggression and so contributed to the security of not only our fellow Australians, but to our region of the world. We saw the introduction of new technology and methods that improved Australia's defence capability. And we trained the next generation of women and men so that when the time came they were able to respond to the call of our Government, wherever that took them. Those of my generation can take pride in the accomplishments of today's service women and men knowing that if it were not for our service they would not be able to achieve the tasks they have been allotted, just as we acknowledge that we could not have performed ours without the service of those that came before us. In common with service men and women of all generations we committed ourselves to serve the citizens of Australia, even if that service took us to our death.
Like many Australians I have the greatest respect and admiration for those women and men who have served our nation in armed conflict. We must always remember their sacrifice and their mates who paid the ultimate price to safeguard our democratic freedoms and way of life. I cannot and do not compare my service to theirs.
I also take pride in the service and contribution of my generation of service men and women. We did all that was asked of us. There are no insignificant roles in the army, navy or air force. Each individual contributes to the success of the whole. We are all veterans and we can all wear that title with pride.
Acknowledgement
Redgum, 'I was only 19'
Written 27 December 2011
Thursday, November 2, 2017
Butterworth’s Unique Place in Australian Military History
Butterworth Air Base throughout the 1970s and 1980s has a unique place in Australian military history. In 1971 Australia assumed the primary role for the air defence of Malaysia and Singapore, maintaining a Mirage presence at Butterworth until 1989. Throughout that time Malaysia was involved in its Second Emergency against the armed terrorists of the Communist Party of Malaya (CPM) and its splinter groups. Aircraft of the Royal Malaysian Air Force (RMAF) based at Butterworth were engaged on military operations against communist forces active in the area. While Australia was not directly involved in the war its presence at Butterworth provided the hosts valuable support and Australian Defence personnel - and their families - incurred danger from the hostile forces of the enemy.
The 1967 British decision to withdraw military forces from Malaysia and Singapore in the early 1970s was of considerable concern to these nations as they were heavily dependent on Britain for security. In response the Five Power Defence Arrangements (FPDA) were agreed to by Britain, Australia, New Zealand, Malaysia and Singapore. These nations committed to consult on the arrangements required in the event of externally organised or supported armed threats against Malaysia or Singapore. Under this arrangement Australia committed two Mirage fighter squadrons to Butterworth as the mainstay of an Integrated Air Defence System (IADS) under the command of an Australian Air Vice Marshal. The squadrons were jointly responsible for permanently maintaining six fighters in Singapore. The IADS, headquartered at Butterworth, began operating in September 1971. At this time Malaysia and Singapore were unable to supply personnel to staff all positions allocated to them.
At the end of the First Emergency the remnants of the Malayan Communist Terrorist Organisation took refuge in the border region of Southern Thailand. Here they rebuilt and prepared for another assault. On 1 June 1968 they announced their intention to relaunch their armed struggle against Malaysia and Singapore. The ambush of a Malaysian Security Force patrol in the border region of Kroh-Bentong on 17 June in which 17 Security Force members were killed marks the beginning of the 21 year Communist Insurgency War, or Second Emergency.
On 1 April 1971 responsibility for Butterworth Base security, including control of entry, transferred from the RAF Regiment to the Malaysian Special Security Police (SSP). This created concern in the upper echelons of the RAAF and Department of Defence. Concerns included the competency of the SSP and Malaysia’s failure to guarantee they would not be withdrawn in part or in toto to respond to civil matters in other places. Although Australia did not foresee at this time a large scale attack on Butterworth the possibility of limited attack or acts of sabotage by CTs (Communist Terrorists) or members of sympathetic dissident groups could not be dismissed. While it was believed the RAAF had the capacity to deal with likely forms of attack a prolonged situation would impact its ability to achieve its primary objective. Another concern was the lack of a coordinated defense plan for the Base.
A review recommended that an infantry company from the ANZUK Forces in Singapore be permanently deployed to Butterworth and placed under the control of the RAAF Officer Commanding (OC). It also recommended the development of a shared defense plan for internal security under the command the RAAF OC - the OC RMAF Butterworth being the ranking officer present. Implementation of the recommendations required Malaysian approval.
Sir Arthur Tange, Secretary, Department of Defence, understood these arrangements were in place when he wrote to the Secretary, Department of Air, on 2 March 1972, to confirm his understanding in preparation for an upcoming meeting with the Minister for Defence regarding Butterworth security. This communication also reveals the true nature of the army company’s deployment was kept secret. ‘In addition, Malaysian reluctance having been overcome, the ANZUK company will now provide one infantry company on rotation through Butterworth on a full-time basis, ostensibly for training, flag-flying and change of scene. The presence of this company will provide the Commander with a ready-reaction force which he can use inter alia to supplement the elements available to him under the joint Malaysian - RAAF Plan, but short of an actual overt breach of security the Commander cannot use these troops for guard or other security duties.’
On 11 January 1973, the Australian Defence Committee considered security requirements at Butterworth following the withdrawal of the Australian battalion from Singapore. It recommended the deployment of an infantry company on three monthly rotation from Australia. The Committee stated: ‘This could be presented publicly as being for training purposes.’ This secrecy is reflected in a memo from Wing Commander Brough, Senior Ground Defence Officer (SRGD), of 11 October 1974, ‘ARA INFANTRY CO AT BUT’. Brough reported a conversation with a Major Le Roy regarding the Army role at the Base. Until July 1974 the army believed their primary role was training but since then understood it was security. ‘But for political reasons it was not possible to state this is low security classification documents.’
Ong Weichong presents three phases of the rebellion: 1968-1973, 'characterised by the infiltration and movement of CPM groups into Peninsular Malaysia ; 1974; 1975-1989, describing 1974 as 'a watershed year'. This followed a split in communist ranks that saw the emergence of three factions. Ong says 1974 'was marked by spectacular acts of revolutionary violence as each CPM faction vied for the legitimacy and leadership of the communist movement in Peninsular Malaysia and Singapore'.
The fall of Saigon and Phnom Penh to Chinese supported communists in 1975 convinced the Malayan communists of the rightness of their strategy of 'using the countryside to encircle the cities ...' 1975 also raised their hopes of support from their comrades in the region - support that did not eventuate.
In 1975 CTs bombed the National Monument in Kuala Lumpur. |
The Sydney Morning Herald, Sept. 12,1975, in an article ‘Malaysian towns under attack,’ reported an outbreak of urban terrorism in Malaysia. In the previous week two policemen had been killed and another 52 wounded by a grenade attack on the paramilitary police headquarters by two CTs. Malaysia’s national monument, which was close to the National Parliament, had been bombed eight days before. The article said, ‘Several Government departments, security-force camps and essential services like power stations and water works in towns throughout West Malaysia have been placed under heavy guard.’
Six months later, on March 2, 1976, the same paper carried an article ‘A hair-raising drive to Penang.’ Although a report of a taxi journey from Singapore to Penang the author commented on the insurgency. ‘Occasional Army and police roadblocks remind you that you are in a country which has a serious communist insurgency problem. Every police station is surrounded by a tall wire fence. In some areas the police rarely emerge from behind their stockade at night.’
Butterworth was not isolated from what was taking place in the rest of Peninsular Malaysia. According to an official history of the conflict published by the Malaysian Army, the communist’s 8th Assault Unit began moving into the South Kedah region near Kulim in early 1969 and remained active there until it was forced out by security forces in 1978. The following incidents in the Butterworth area were reported in different editions of the Straits Times. In March 1971 the railway bridge spanning Sungei Jarak, three kilometres from the village of Tasek Glugor in Northern Province Wellesley was dynamited by CTs. The following month two bombs exploded in Penang, communist flags were found on the Island and Province Wellesley, and suspects arrested. In May four CTs were killed and another four wounded by security forces near Kulim, approximately 19 kilometers from Butterworth. Prime Minister Tun Abdul Razak named Penang as one of five states where the communist threat was ‘very real’ in June 1971.
Documents held in the National Australian Archives give evidence to the security situation at Butterworth in 1975. On 3 April 1975 the Chief of Air Staff (CAS) Air Marshal (AM) J.A. Rowland advised the Minister that rocket attacks had occurred at a Malaysian air base near Kuala Lumpur and a military installation on Penang a few days earlier. The RMAF had advised of possible threats to Butterworth and had plans to disperse their aircraft to other bases. Increased security measures included limited dispersal of aircraft. 'The period of tension ... [was] expected to last until at least 22 April and probably for a further month.' A SiteRep for Butterworth and North Peninsular Malaysia dated 2 August advised of communist activity in the area. 'Increased security consisting of 5 standing patrols of half section strength deployed during hours of darkness, one section picket of aircraft lines and AirMov area and normal ready reaction section will continue until at least 8 August.'
Intelligence was received in September 1975 that the communist underground organisation had been instructed ‘to carry out rocket attacks against air bases, especially during the months of September and October.’ Butterworth and Alor Star - RAAF members also being at Alor Star - were two of the three major airbases considered likely targets - the other being at Kuala Lumpur. A fourth was considered too remote from CT strongholds. A rocket attack against the 6th Malaysian Infantry Brigade headquarters at nearby Sungai Patani on 24th September added to the concern.
On 7 October the CAS again wrote to the Minister regarding concerns of possible rocket attacks and the possibility the CTs had acquired mortars, together with identified weaknesses in Base security measures, left Butterworth vulnerable. He asked the Minister to request the Malaysian Prime Minister at an upcoming meeting to allocate at least one battalion to the immediate Butterworth area to improve defence measures. A week later the Assistant Chief of Air Staff, Air Vice Marshall McNamara informed the DJS: ‘Arrangements in place for families and the security of personnel on the Base are satisfactory. At this time no defensive works for the protection of personnel is considered necessary, but planning has taken into account the requirement for blast shelters should the situation deteriorate further. The requirement for blast protection of aircraft against ground burst weapons and small arms fire together with aircraft dispersal is currently under review.’
Anecdotal evidence indicates revetments were constructed in early 1976. An October 1976 document confirms recent action had ‘been taken to construct revetments …’
Families were also at risk. A Families Protection Plan, dated 8 May 1972 states 'There is a threat of racial communal disturbances to families resident in Base Married Quarters, housing estates and hirings in Butterworth and Penang.' This threat was reiterated in the 1975 JIO [Joint Intelligence Organisation] Australia document ‘The Security of Air Base Butterworth’. To quote” ‘There is always a risk of racial communal disturbances that could affect families resident in Base married quarters, housing estates, and hirings in Butterworth and Pinang.’
Dependents were also vulnerable to enemy action. JIO stated ‘the use of booby-traps and minor acts of sabotage by subversive groups are relatively common throughout Peninsular Malaysia and pose a distinct threat both to the Base and Australian personnel and their dependents.’ RAAF married quarters adjacent to the Base were considered possible targets. In April 1971, as reported in the Straits Times of 25 April, the six year old daughter of a British serviceman stationed in Singapore was killed by a communist booby trap placed in a children's playground.
Australia was not directly involved in the fight against Malaysia’s enemy and it is clear from the evidence that that is how both countries wanted it. That however does not diminish the importance of the Australian presence at Butterworth. In the lead up to a review of that presence due ‘by the end of 1976’ Group Captain J.R. MacNeil, Defense Advisor, Kuala Lumpur, considered it likely Malaysia would want to retain the Australian presence for different reasons, one being its assistance with running the Base. Wing Commander MacNeil explained:
It [the RAAF] assists the RMAF in running the largest of the four RMAF bases in West Malaysia … Because of its location and size Butterworth is very important to Malaysia in its efforts to contain CPM [Communist Party of Malaya] forces, and withdrawal of the RAAF, or any significant reduction in its size, would markedly reduce the effectiveness of the base and/or require large diversions of RMAF effort to Butterworth from other bases. The general level of achievement of the RMAF would drop if there was any large reduction in RAAF strength at Butterworth.
Currently little evidence beyond 1978 has been accessed. While Malaysia was responsible for security outside the wire, there was no guarantee the presence of combat troops if required for defence of the base. Although the OC RMAF Butterworth was the ranking officer, the Shared Defence Plan which applied inside the wire was under the control of the OC RAAF. The only specialised Ground Defence Force guaranteed to be available if and when required was the Australian Infantry Company.
While each nation was responsible for the defence of its own personnel and equipment there were shared assets vital to the operations of both air forces. Australian security personnel and the Infantry Company had a role in protecting these from the CTs and their sympathisers. The evidence from various reports and the CO Base Squadron Butterworth’s Monthly Reports shows increased security at different times to cover possible ground threats to the Base.
The RAAF presence at Butterworth during what Ong Weichong and Kumar Ramakrishna have described as 'a serious security threat' was to act as a deterrent to external aggression against Malaysia and Singapore. While the Australian role was not concerned with internal security matters Australian personnel and their dependents were exposed to the real risk of attack from CTs and their sympathisers. Australia had the lead role in the internal defense arrangements of Butterworth Air Base, arrangements agreed to by both nations to protect both Australian and Malaysian personnel and assets against Malaysia’s armed enemy active in the immediate area. These facts make Butterworth unique in Australian military history.
Service at Butterworth during the Insurgency War is recognised by the Australian Government as peacetime.
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Headquarters RAAF Butterworth. Families Protection Plan, dated 8 May 1972
Joint Intelligence Organisation (Australia). ‘The security of Air Base Butterworth.’ October 1975.
Mohamed Ghazemy Mahmud (Translator), The Malaysian Army’s Battle Against Communist Insurgency 1968-1989, Army Headquarters, Ministry of Defence, Wisma Pertahanan, Jalan Padang Tembak, 50634 Kuala Lumpur, First Printing and originally published in 2001 in the Malay language as ‘Tentera Darat Manentang Insurgensi Komunis 1968-1989.
Ong Weichong. ‘Securing the Population from Insurgency and Subversion in the Second Emergency (1968-1981).’ Submitted to the University of Exeter as a thesis for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy by Research in History, August 2010.
Ong Weichong and Kumar Ramakrishna. ‘The “forgotten” insurgency that failed’, in ‘The Malaysian Insider’, 15 October 2013
Straits Times, The. ‘Bomb victim dies.’ 25 April 1970
Straits Times, The. articles accessed at http://newspapers.nl.sg/Default.aspx
Straits Times, The. ‘Reds blow up bridge in north Malaysia.’ 9 March 1971
Straits Times, The. ‘Two bomb blasts in Penang: Red flags found on buildings.’ 24 April 1971.
Straits Times, The.’Security forces kill 4 reds.’ 16 May 1971.
Straits Times, The. ‘Peril in five states: Red threat very real, says Tun.’ 29 June 1971
Sydney Morning Herald, The. ‘Malaysian towns under attack: for the communist guerillas a change of tactics’. 12 September 1975
Sydney Morning Herald, The. ‘A hair-raising drive to Penang.’ 2 March 1976
Thayer. Carlyle A. ‘The Five Power Defence Arrangements: The Quiet Achiever’. ‘Security Challenges’, Volume 3, Number 1. February 2007.
National Australian Archives
NAA: A703, 564/8/28 Part 3, RAAF Butterworth – Ground defence plans
NAA: A703, 564/8/28 Part 8, RAAF Butterworth – Ground defence plans
NAA: A703, 566/2/148 Part 5, Formation, organisation and movement – HQ RAAF Butterworth
NAA: A1838, 696/6/4/5Pt 3 - Butterworth Base General
NAA: A9435, 75 - Commanding Officers’ reports - Monthly reports unit sheets (A50) - Base Squadron, Butterworth, 1948-1988
Friday, October 20, 2017
The Hitchhikers
Those of us who joined the RAAF as apprentices were meant to be at least 15 years of age and younger than 17 at the time of enlistment. There were a few on my intake that had not reached 15 and possibly one who had passed 17. We were too young to drive and on $12 a week in 1967 we didn’t earn a great deal. Poverty is the word that comes to mind.
After the first six weeks during which we were confined to Base we were allowed out Friday after work, Saturday and Sunday with strict 2300 hours curfews on each night. It is about 10 kilometres from the Base to the centre of Wagga Wagga and I can’t recall any public transport, although there may have been. So the only option we had was to walk from our barracks, down the main drag and out onto the highway and stand there with our thumbs held out pointing in the direction of Wagga Wagga.
Generally we had little trouble getting a lift. There were plenty of older RAAFies on the Base, including trainees and staff, who were happy enough to give us a lift and, of course, the obliging passing motorist. I remember the time a couple of us were picked up inside the Base by a Sergeant General Fitter Instructor. As he turned left onto the highway after leaving the Base with quite a lean on his car he informed us that he had been a racing driver. In fact, if he were to be believed, he had lived a varied life - so many years doing one thing and so many more something else. One of our number worked out he must have been at least 120.
The most memorable hitchhiking experience I have probably came in the first half of our second year. My room mate Shorty and I decided to make the trip to Canberra. While we could have worn civies by this time we decided to wear our uniforms - long-sleeve drabs (khaki) with tie. This was our summer dress and we reasoned the uniform would help not only reassure the prospective lift of our good character but also elicit a degree of generosity from the passing motorists.
No doubt we left reasonably early. The distance from Wagga Wagga to Canberra is around 160 kilometres and we planned to return that evening. Our trip to the National Capital must have been uneventful as I can’t remember it. We enjoyed the day and late afternoon we decided to head for home. And this is the memorable bit.
We stood on the side of the road waiting for a kindly passing motorist. To say traffic was light was an understatement - it was almost non-existent. But finally our patience was rewarded. It wasn’t long however before our driver announced he was heading in a different direction than we were and so he left us on the side of the road. We waited and waited and not a car passed. At long last there was hope. It was the same gentleman. Again, we travelled further towards our destination but it was not long until he again announced he would have to leave us. Once more we waited, not even the sound of a car and the sun moving even lower on the horizon. Our friend eventually returned, only to repeat the exercise a little further down the road.
And there we stood, the shadows growing increasingly longer, no sound of any human activity and the evening growing colder. Summer uniforms didn’t come with jumpers, coats or any other garment to keep the wearer warm. We were looking at a long, cold, lonely night without food or water, not to mention the inevitable disciplinary action that awaited us when - assuming we survived the ordeal - we returned to Base for breaking curfew.
At last it came, the sound of an approaching vehicle. Spirits rose. Believe it or not, we were picked up again by the same gent and we made it home before lights out. Now I can’t remember if our friendly chauffeur took us the rest of the way or not. But as I reflect on the story I can’t help but wonder if he was not a responsible person who went out of his way after the third time to make sure two boys made it home safely. Whatever the case may be, there are two old blokes many years later who will be forever thankful for that man’s good will.
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