20 July 2009 in Speeches
Official Unveiling and Dedication Ceremony for the National Servicemen's Memorial (Fleurieu Sub Branch)
President Colin Kuchel, Secretary Paul Hewton and Members of the Fleurieu sub-branch of the National Servicemen Association
Mr Graham Wilson, State President of the National Servicemen Association
Michael Pengilly, State Member for Finniss
Mary Lou Corcoran, Mayor of Victor Harbor
Ladies and Gentlemen,
I thought I would start today by relating a story of my family and its experience with national service.
National service changed Dad’s life.
My father was a NASHO.
He still claims to this day that it is only raffle he has ever won.
I discussed this week with him how he was told and how he felt.
He told me that he received his official letter in April 1970 and read it with surprise followed shortly after by bewilderment and finally trepidation.
An experience that would be familiar to many of you.
It meant that he had to leave his job, his family and his then fiancé.
Dad’s service finished just after the government’s policy changed.
He did not go to Vietnam.
He therefore returned home to his job and his family but not his fiancé.
She had decided, in the tradition of a Dear John letter, to broaden her horizons.
A decision on her part for which I am forever thankful.
Dad then met my Mother and the rest is history.
So in a strange way, if were not for national service you would not have me.
Further evidence for some that compulsory national service had terrible consequences I’m sure!
But not all national service ended this way.
187 young men, who were required to serve, paid the ultimate sacrifice.
Some 1,500 serviceman suffered physical wounds while an unknown number of veterans endured psychological battles for many years.
But in the history of our country the service of this group was unique.
It had a contention attached to it.
For no fault of their own, this group did not receive the same adulation as previous generation of our country’s warriors did.
For this generation was required to serve and to sacrifice, by law.
Conscription has always been a contentious issue.
At the height of the First World War, the Australian public voted against it – twice.
Since that time there has only been two occasions when the government of the day has required young men to serve in overseas conflicts zones through a policy of conscription.
While there has been many times during our past when the government has insisted on young Australians undertaking military preparations, only twice has this meant service overseas in a conflict zone.
The first occasion was during World War 2 shortly after Pearl Harbour was bombed.
On that occasion Prime Minister John Curtin in the face of Australia’s darkest hour insisted on the population defending it.
The beginning of the famous battle for the Kokoda Track was fought by some of these young underprepared militia men who bravely stood against the rolling Japanese war machine at a very heavy cost.
The second time was when Sir Robert Menzies extended the National Service Act in 1965 to include overseas service in conflict zones.
This was at the height of the Cold War with a perceived, or in some people’s minds, a real threat marching down from our north.
These young men fought in Vietnam.
A war that has been so tarnished in controversy that we have failed to remember well enough those Australians who did their duty for our country.
Today I have the great privilege to unveil a memorial dedicated to some of those young men, to the NASHOs.
These small memorials are quite unique to Australia.
English author Michael Burleigh identifies in his book Sacred Causes that following World War 1, with communities searching for ways to mourn and remember so many lost sons, memorials popped up in towns and villages throughout our land.
Other countries have grand structures to honour those who made the ultimate sacrifice.
Massive memorials signalling a focus point for a nation’s grief.
Ours is the haunting war memorial in Canberra.
But the structures that Burleigh talks about are not the grand museums but small structures unlikely to ever be recognised as architectural master pieces.
Walls, town halls and parks.
It is what memorials like these represent, not what they look like that make them so special.
This memorial will add to that rich composition by honouring a generation who served but for reasons outside of their control, have never received the acknowledgment they deserved.
The important aspect of these memorials is that they do not just honour those who did not return, but those who did.
We owe it to all Australians who served to acknowledge that commitment.
All service is equal, the sacrifice is the same.
The service of those who created the legend of the ANZAC in a far away Cove in 1915 is no different to that of those who fought so hard for our country in Vietnam.
The service of my wife’s grand father, who was shot down over France in 1944, is no different to the troopers who petrol East Timor today.
So while our freedom gives us all the democratic right to express our views on a government’s decision to commit troops, we should not confuse that freedom, with honouring those who served.
There is no such thing as good or bad service.
It was an unfortunate mistake by a previous generation to allow politics to get in the way of honouring those who fought under our flag.
It is our obligation to honour them all.
So for all of you who have fought for the great cause of freedom, we say thank you because freedom is never free.
It wasn’t free for the Australians who fought for a fledgling nation in a blood soaked Europe nearly 100 years ago, nor is it for the young men and women who fight today for our freedom in Afghanistan.
We mourn for those young Australians who made the ultimate sacrifice for our freedom.
We remember them today as their mates did when they fell.
We build these monuments and tell their stories so our future generation never forget the debt we all owe.
We honour their legacy by acknowledging their service and their sacrifice.
Because of these great Australians who sacrificed so much we live in freedom.
So it is a great privilege to unveil this monument today.
And in doing so I will finish with these haunting words from the poem, For the Fallen.
They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.
We will remember them.
Thank you.