Whose War?

1

'Sweethearts – World War11 reaches Australia'

It could be said that Tom Macrae and Annie Russell grew up together. From a young child Tom was a friend of Annie's brother, Charlie, and Annie and Tom's sister Bess, shared the same desk from their first day at school. However when Tom reached his teens it was with different eyes he saw the once annoying younger sibling of Charlie. What he felt made him sneak a page of his mother's best writing paper and go to a corner in the backyard shed. With cobwebs brushing the dark curls on his head, he wrote a poem – a poem about love. He waited to find Annie alone to push the paper into her hand and the colour of his face matched the red of her cheeks as she peered up at her bard.

If not at school, they saw each other at church to where both families faithfully traipsed. A humble building clad in painted boards with a roof pitched high so the wooden cross would be closer to heaven. Rows of unpadded seats, hard on young bony bottoms kept older eyelids from drooping further. But they had heard it all before and already knew gambling was a sin and the drinking of alcohol was evil. And they ignored the taunt, 'wowser', shouted by those who went to a church that had walls of dark stone and was built where the hill was highest.

However, for Tom and his brother and sister it was not the church, but their mother who preached the harshest and strongest against the demon drink. At night they pleaded, she sit on the end of one of their beds and tell them stories of her life with a father who drank too much. Little wonder, they thought, they had never seen the amber liquor pass their own father's lips.

Come the times there were coins to jingle in his pocket, Tom asked his girl to go to the pictures with him. His chest puffed with pride when Annie was seen at his side as he waited in line at the ticket office. He poked his money through the rounded hole in the glass and paid the extra pennies for two of the seats at the very back of the stalls. They waited for the ornate lights to grow dim before their hands fumbled to find the hands of the other and after a quick glance around them and they saw seats there were empty, they dared to sneak a kiss.

Dulcet tones of 'Goodnight Sweetheart' softly wafted over their heads as hand in hand they left the theatre. They had not gone far one evening when their noses twitched at the smell of smoke. Down a narrow laneway, they saw fingers of flame dangerously spreading from a pile of rubbish to the walls of a shop – a fruit and vegetable shop, owned by Jimmy, who had spent more of his life in Australia than he had in China where he was born.

Tom ran, screaming warnings of fire as he snatched an old sack off the ground to wildly beat at the red-orange tongues of flame already devouring the thin wooden walls. His arm feeling ready to drop from his shoulder before Jimmy appeared from the back of the shop where he lived. But, Tom's swings not slowing until clanging bells heralded the arrival of a bright red truck.

He returned early the next morning to help Jimmy and was asked if he wanted a job. At a time when work was not easy to find he hid his smile. There were repairs to make to the shop. However, work on the shop was only the beginning. Mrs McRory, a regular customer, used the voice she normally reserved for when she was just looking in expensive dress shops as she approached the dark-eyed young man. She needed more cupboards in her kitchen and her plucked eyebrows rounded in finely drawn arches when he quickly promised he would come that night to start the job. The cupboards barely finished and Mr. Wren, who the older he became reminded everyone more of the diminutive bird, asked Tom about a bedside table he wanted. 'Somewhere to put my spectacles and a glass of water,' he explained, 'between the bed and the window.' His old face creasing with a smile when he saw the design that Tom drew on a paper bag.

Small jobs were only the beginning before Tom was working seven long days per week. He earned more money than he ever thought possible and when courting Annie he no longer thought of himself as the poor lad who lived down the street. With the prices of houses falling he counted his savings and butterflies fluttered as much in Annie's stomach as they did in his on the night he decided to talk to her father. He followed Mr Russell to the shed and after asking for Annie’s hand in marriage he felt every inch of ten foot tall when he felt the older hand grip his. With only five days to wait before he took Annie to the jewellery shop on Sydney Road and bought her the ring of her choosing.

Eighteen months later another ring was chosen and a hushed sigh ran along the pews in church as Tom slipped the band of gold onto Annie's finger. The brick house they bought was in the same street in Brunswick, where Annie's parents lived and on a secluded back wall he scratched their names and the date. A year and a half passed and a different name written. This one not scraped in hard brick mortar, but neatly inscribed on a formal document to record the birth of their daughter, Claire. However, she was only a few months from reaching her second birthday in 1939, when the word war began to intrude into their lives. Monotones, normally heard in newsreaders' voices, were not always there; instead hints of alarm were detected when reports of the unrest in Europe were read. And in picture theatres after the laughing call of kookaburras heralded the start of the Movietone News, patrons sat up straighter in their seats. Their glassy eyes fixed to the screen where they saw the avaricious armies of Germany force their way across borders to invade the land of their neighbour, Poland.

It was almost sacred to the Russell family – to gather at the patriarchal home on a Sunday evening to enjoy a meal together. However, on the first night in September, in the same year, 1939, war emerged frighteningly closer. Dishes hurriedly washed and they settled in chairs around the wireless. However expressions on faces suddenly altered when it was not the well-known theme music of the evening play they heard, but instead, the stirring tones of a military march before their Prime Minister, Mr. Robert Menzies began to speak.

'It is my melancholy duty to inform you officially that in consequence of persistence by Germany in her invasion of Poland, Great Britain has declared war on her, and that as a result Australia is also at war.'

Tom reached for Annie's hand and neither moved until the last words were spoken. May God in his mercy and compassion grant that the world may soon be delivered from this agony.'

No one spoke and Henry abruptly stood.

'I think we might have all feared something like this would happen,' he said before he reached across to turn off the wireless.

Norm, Annie's eldest brother, suddenly jumped up from his chair. 'This is constitutionally wrong,' he shouted. 'Menzies is just following Britain. What's our parliament got to say about this?'

Charlie, his younger brother, was not in the mood to argue. 'Think we'll be shoving off,' he muttered.

His wife, Em, began picking up toys scattered across the room and Charlie slipped his arms under their daughter where she had fallen asleep on the settee. And their goodbyes that night were unusually brief before they left the house.

Annie soothed her overly tired and crying daughter as she looked at Tom and made the excuse. 'It's well past her bedtime. I really think we should take her home.'

Norm was utterly deflated as he watched his family leave and called to his sons. 'Come on fellas pack up the Snakes and Ladders. You can get it out next week.'

He ushered the boys towards the door and heard Hazel, his wife, apologize to her mother-in-law, Lily. 'Sorry to rush off, but the boys need to get things ready for school.'

The once noisy house was quiet. Henry put his arm around Lily. 'Come on Mother. Let's have a cup of tea. We've all got things to think about after what we've heard tonight.'

From the next day, newspapers were filled with reports relating to the solemn declaration. A War Cabinet immediately formed, and only days later a picture appearing on page three of a line of men waiting to enlist in a new infantry division. Manufacturers responding quickly and assuring the Government they would be ready to supply whatever the forces required. The ABC insisting that Australia was at war with the Nazi Government, and not the German people and their culture and therefore refusing to eliminate German music from any of their programmes. The readers of newspapers pleased however when they learnt that royalties on the sale of the book, Mein Kampf by Adolf Hitler, would not be paid to the author. Instead, they were to be paid to the British Red Cross Society and Order of St. John. However many people had not seen the small report well down the side of page two of a shipment of thousands of bales of wool that had been sent to Japan with Japanese businessmen describing the cargo as a fine gesture of the goodwill that existed between the two countries.

Various implications arose from the threat of war. Tom's neighbour, an avid Carlton football supporter, loudly boasted that the season would be allowed to continue through to the finals, while a workmate of Tom felt disgruntled. Matches for the forthcoming cricket season were to be confined to club games and not played interstate.

For Annie and Tom, there was little change to their lives. Tom had orders for work and Annie happily continued to care for her family and home. However, it was on another Sunday evening when the Russell family had gathered when war inched closer.

Without warning, Norm loudly shouted, 'Codswallop,' he wildly accused. 'Nothing more than codswallop.'

Blank faces turned towards him and his diatribe against Britain continued.

'Did you see it in the papers?' he asked. 'The Lion has roared and her cubs are ready. What a cheek!'

'Have you forgotten?' shouted his younger brother, Charlie, as he noisily pushed back his chair. 'Plenty of Aussie blokes did their bit in the First. What's more, there's even more signing up for this one.'

But now it was Henry who shot up from his chair and his voice was the loudest of all in the room. 'That's enough, boys. Cut it out! We're in this thing together and this isn't the place for this sort of talk.' He looked to where Lily sat. 'You're worrying your mother.'

Tom poked at the dying embers at the bottom of the fireplace. 'Well this is one bloke going into action – all the way to the backyard for more wood.' His wink and grin directed at Annie.

Her brothers' displays of temper meant nothing to Annie. She had followed them around since she had first begun to walk. Annie was an accident – a term commonly used to describe children born later in marriage. Nobody but close family knew of the heartbreak Lily suffered in the years after Norm was born. More than one baby failed to reach full term. Not only Lily, but also many in the neighbourhood, respected the wisdom of the local oriental sage and she was careful nobody saw the newspaper-wrapped parcels in her basket when she returned across the narrow swing bridge over the Merri Creek. She held her breath and swallowed the strange tasting potions and her patience rewarded when a son, Charlie, was born. She crossed the Merri Creek once more and two years later gave birth again. This time to a daughter – named Anne, but affectionately called, Annie.

For Annie, the difference of twelve years between her and Norm seemed vast. Charlie was closer in age and more patient with her – going as far as teaching her to drive the workshop vehicle over the rough paddock at the end of the street when she was only fourteen.

Henry's hopes were realized when his two sons followed him into the busy engineering business he owned and Annie learnt the names of all the other workers. Years later, when Henry left most of the management to his sons, Charlie joked he did the real work, while all Norm did was the paperwork.

Norm married Hazel, the girl he courted at school. When he boasted about the arrival of two sons in quick succession Hazel's face turned red.

Charlie, as his father had been, was the blacksmith. He worked in front of a hot furnace all day and came home with his clothes crusted white from the salt of his sweat that ran all day. He saw the concerned looks on his parent's faces when he told them whom he wanted to marry and quickly explained. 'Em's all right and so's her mother. It's just the old man that's a lazy sod.'

Annie was aware of men enlisting in the forces, but it was brought closer to her on the morning the hard block slid off the icey's shoulder and crashed into the metal lined top of the ice chest. A wisp of hair poked from under his flattened cap when he looked at Annie.

'Won't be seein' ya next time, missus. Goin' into the army.'

He was gone before Annie had the chance to answer. She had already sprinkled selected pieces of dry washing with water, but after what she had heard she pulled the plug for the iron from the socket on the wall. The ironing could wait.

The next heavy block of ice came on the shoulder of an older man. His face was florid and his puffing and panting more from the weight he carried around his middle than the weight he balanced on his shoulder.

'It's the young'uns signing up,' he grunted, 'givin' us older blokes a go at the jobs.'

'Young'uns', such as two brothers in the neighbourhood who had already left for camp or the lad heard boasting to his mates – now he was in the army he had regular pay, somewhere to live, plenty of food and would not have to find the money for the boots he needed.

However, they were not all young or out of work. A workmate of Tom who had always been fascinated with ships enlisted in the navy and the cobbler on Sydney Road so desperate to slice years from his age, shaved off his 'mo'. Perhaps it was the pale skin on his upper lip that betrayed his ruse and despite serving in the first big one, he was rejected. He would have to wait until the maximum age limit went from 35 to 40. He could then join the queue along with men of short stature who had a much better chance of getting into the forces after the line on the ruler was taken down to the five-foot mark.

Annie and Tom ignored the droning they heard on the wireless until they recognized the voice of their Prime Minister. A glimmer of a smile surfaced on Annie's face when she heard conscription was not to be introduced and Tom was obviously pleased when importance was placed on maintaining strength in industry.

Wherever Annie went, there were changes. After she heard of one, she waited all day for Tom to come home from work to tell him.

'Tom, you won't believe what's happening. We're losing our postman. He's enlisted. Always blew his whistle whenever he made a delivery, either round, morning or afternoon. But, wait 'til I tell you. They're putting a woman in the job. Can you imagine?' she asked. 'A woman out in all the weather, hot or cold, even when it's raining.'

A post office bicycle was not the only place where women took the place of men in the workforce. There were many others. Annie, who had only just become accustomed to seeing more men in uniform, now saw women dressed in similar attire.

She was on the tram going into the city when bright and garish posters pasted on walls of buildings surrounded her. Fight for the Mother Country or Answer the Call of Your Country, only two of the many. That night in bed as Annie restlessly lay on Tom's shoulder all she saw were two staring eyes and a long finger pointing above the words, 'This Means You!'

However, apart from war there was something very different to share with Tom. Her cheeks a bright red as she took the calendar from the wall to circle a date in November. She looked up and smiled at Tom. 'We should start thinking of names.'

A wide smile flashed across Tom's face before a frown followed.

Annie laughed. 'Don't worry. Never felt better. Even in the mornings.'

The larger Annie's waistline grew the more Tom looked for ways to help. He insisted, even though he rode his bike to work he could collect an order she left with the greengrocer. He balanced the heavy hessian bag across the handlebars of his bike and brought home not only fruit and vegetables, but also dire predictions passed onto him by Jimmy, the Chinese greengrocer. 'It's the Japanese, who threaten us,' the short, dark haired man told him. 'They want the things we've got in Australia.'

That night when Annie's head was on Tom's shoulder she asked, 'Tom, this war, it's not near us, is it?' There was no answer. She asked again. 'In Australia we don't have to worry, do we?'

His arms tightened around her and she felt his breath warm on her face.

'Sweetheart, I don't want you worrying. The fighting's a long way off.' But as he spoke he remembered the talk between men about who they thought should enlist in the forces.

When work orders lessened, Tom chose to go on the payroll of a busy building company. A job at a bay side suburb would last for weeks and he agreed with Annie they could use her parent's caravan. It would be fun for Claire to live so close to the beach while the job lasted.

Tom used the company truck one Saturday to return to his home to attend to the garden. But he stopped digging when he heard the rattle of his brother's bike in the driveway.

'Got something to tell ya,' called Fred as he came towards Tom.

'Well, out with it, mate!'

'Goin' into the town hall after lunch. I've decided! Wanna sign up for the army. Haven't told Mum or Dad. I know Mum'll cry.'

The look he saw on Tom's face, made him yell.

'I'm single, haven't got a missus or kids. Hundreds are signing up.' He defiantly thrust out his chin. 'Why not me?' Spittle flew from his mouth. 'Thought you'd think I was doing the right thing.

'Settle down, Fred.'

'Would've done it earlier, only they wanted me to stay on at work. You know damn well it's single fellas like me who should have a go.'

Tom levelled his eyes at his brother. 'What about blokes with families to protect?'

'Didn't think you'd want to leave them.'

'I don't. But, it doesn't stop me thinking I should enlist.

He looked towards the house and was pleased Annie was at her mother's with Claire.

'Fred, Britain needs men in the Middle East, but it's the blasted Japs, who worry me,' said Tom. 'They're moving down through China and heading our way. Hardest thing is how to tell Annie? Struth, we've got one kid and expecting another. It's a hell'uv a lot for her if I'm sent away.' He rammed the shovel into the dirt. 'Give me a week will you. We'll go together. The job down on the coast is just about finished. We'll be bringing the van back on Friday.'

Fred grumbled, 'No longer than that. I'm doing it, with or without ya'.'

Tom watched the figure slouch towards the bike and heard the mutter.

'Don't try fobbing me off.'

Fred swung his leg over the seat of his bike. The tear across his knee ripped further and the bike rattled louder as it was ridden across the edge of the gutter.

The week was nearly over and Tom had not told Annie. On the last night, after Claire had fallen asleep, he knelt on the caravan floor at Annie's feet.

'A bit late to ask me to marry you,' she said, and shyly smiled.

Tom was not going to be distracted. 'I have to tell you… honey, there's something I've got to do.'

The smile went from Annie's face.

'I should enlist in the army. This damn…' he stopped. 'Sorry – this war, it's serious. Can't leave it to everyone else. I've got to do my bit.'

'Tom, do you really think it's that bad?'

'Yes I do,' he said. 'Menzies changed his tune the last time he spoke on the wireless. Britain needs our help. But it's the Japanese who worry me.'

'I can hear Jimmy speaking when you talk like this,' Annie accused.

'It's not only what Jimmy says. Look at what happened in Nanking. The Japs went through the place killing everyone in their path. Men, women or children, it made no difference. They mustn’t reach Australia.'

Both were quiet until Tom suddenly blurted, 'You know, Annie, it's tough for your brothers. They'll never be allowed to enlist because of the work they do for the forces.'

Annie had no answer. The chill of the night seeped up through the wooden floor of the caravan and she pulled her cardigan tightly around her.

'Tom, I think I've known this would happen. I love you so much.'

All day the sun had teased the sea with sparkles of jewels, but as it slipped behind the horizon, the colour faded. Like a lonely sentinel, the caravan stood on the grassy foreshore with weak light barely reaching the ground from the narrow windows. On still nights like these when ears were pressed into pillows, the powerful throb of ocean-going ships was heard or felt as vessels followed channels marked by buoys with tops crusted white by resting gulls.

Waves broke louder and higher onto the beach – the tide was turning. Receding water would leave trails of broken shells scattered across the dark brown stones, and there would be sounds of clicking claws as scuttling crabs sought places to hide. While stretching into the distance, glistening sand bars like giant stepping-stones, would appear.

Annie nestled her head into Tom's shoulder and refused to think her 'boy' would not come home.

2

'her smile a toy on her face'

Tom backed the caravan to where it was kept in the backyard.

'Leave it,' Henry called. 'I'll fix the jacks in the morning. It's getting too dark.'

Tom reluctantly followed his father-in-law to the house. As he entered the dining room, voices stopped and it seemed a million eyes stared at him.

'Did Annie tell you?' he abruptly asked. 'Going into the Town Hall tomorrow. Signing up for the army.'

Nobody spoke. Tom felt annoyed. Hadn't they heard there was a war going on? He didn't want to leave his wife and family. Hell! That was the last thing he wanted to do.

The seconds passing like minutes before Henry shouted. 'Annie's proud of you, and we are too. You know I couldn't go in the last one, and this time it'll be the same for Norm and Charlie.'

Questions and suggestions all came together and when Tom saw Claire asleep against her mother's shoulder, he agreed. It would be better for Annie to move in with her parents while he was in camp or if sent overseas.

Tom saw the clock and jumped off his chair. 'Struth it's late, have to get the truck back tonight.'

Henry followed them to the backyard and after watching them leave he thought of the past ten years or more.

When Tom first started coming to the house, it was to see his friend, Charlie. However, on later visits, it was obvious it was to see someone else. The boy was always well mannered and polite, and his clothes, despite patches of wear, were clean. Henry forced to hide his smile whenever he saw the boy's dark, curly hair weighed down with too much shiny Brilliantine Oil. Henry knew he was slower than Lily to accept the young man as a suitable match for their daughter. But the passing years proving there was no reason for him not to completely trust Tom.

Another face came to his mind – one of a young mother with a child in her arms. Her smile a toy on her lips as she insisted she would manage if Tom was posted away from Australia.

The next morning, Annie and Tom in the kitchen heard the hard metal of a bike scrape down the brick wall outside.

Tom winked at Annie. 'Come in, Fred!' he called.

The door was already slamming shut behind his brother and bringing a rush of cold morning air into the room. Fred's nose went up as he sniffed the smells of a breakfast cooked earlier.

'Yum, bacon!'

'Sit down, Fred,' said Annie. She pulled a chair away from the table and lifted the teapot.

'It's still hot. Would you like a cup?' she asked.

Fred always sat on the same chair and Annie always poured him a cup of tea without asking. This morning was different.

'It's alright, Fred. Tom's told me where you're going.'

His hand remained on the back of the chair. 'Sorry, Annie, I know it must be hard with having Claire and another kid on the way.'

He sat at the table with Tom who felt Annie’s fingers lightly pressing into his shoulder. 'I'll manage. I won't be on my own. There's always family around.' Her laugh forced as she moved toward the hallway door. 'Better go and see what that little lady's up to.'

'Fred, reckon it's best if we use the tram,' mumbled Tom. 'Bikes could get in the way. Last night we made up our minds. Annie's moving in with her Mum and Dad while I'm away.'

No answer came from Fred, and he suddenly felt impatient. 'Come on, mate. We'd better get going.'

Tom hurried to get his jacket. As they went down the driveway, Fred stopped to look back. The wind blew Annie's dress against her full figure and Tom had not stopped waving to the small girl at her mother's feet.

Fred silently cursed. Why in the hell hadn't he gone on his own last week?

They reached the street just as a tram slowed at the 'stop' and both men jumped up the steps. However, they had not gone far