TOO YOUNG

The drinking age in Australia was 21

He was too young to drink, too young to live the life of a man, yet he was old enough to enlist in the Army.
It was not a chosen career, it was not something he wanted to do but he thought that he should.
There was a war in Europe and we were part of the Commonwealth.
Our soldiers were going and they needed more.
There was no conscription, it was voluntary and he volunteered

He was a boy----not tall or robust. He had never seen a gun or owned knife. He hadn't finished his trade apprenticeship but he signed up---he thought it was right--he thought that he should.

He had never been lucky, things never seemed to go his way yet he was prepared to gamble with his life.

Basic training was over and he was heading for the war---the last day in Australia, and it could be the last day he ever saw his country.
His luck did not improve when he and a mate were placed in charge of loading luggage onto the troop ship---the rest were allowed to have time with family and friends and even drink---yes, they were now soldiers and the age law did not apply to them.
A little luck turned into the luckiest day of his life.
They had finished loading the luggage and supplies, so his mate convinced him that they should have a drink for a good job done ---why not---there was two hours til departure time and they were legal---the wharf workers directed them to a local hotel and away they went.
They weren't gone that long but it was too long---departure time was an hour before what they had thought and back at the wharf they saw their ship sailing away---they were quickly reassigned and and sailed three days later.
What they didn't know til after the war was that their original ship sailed into Singapore Harbour not knowing that Singapore had fallen to the Japanese---the troops were prisoners without firing a shot in anger.

He saw action in North Africa and the Middle East and survived to be sent back home to Australia but his war was not over.
He didn't get back to his State or his family before his battalion was posted to New Guinea.
He never told me but I know he walked and crawled the Kokoda Trail, I know that he suffered badly and that he came home with mental images and memories that no one should ever have.
He never spoke of the war in terms of battle
He found no glory in anything that had happened.
He would talk of the wonderful people in Palestine and how beautiful he found the country to be---how wonderful the jungles of New Guinea smelled and how friendly the natives were, but no more.
He had no hate in him for the men he fought---they were doing no more of a job than he was.

Today is Anzac Day in Australia---a day we remember all of those who have fought to protect the liberties of this country and it's allies.

But I remember him every day---he is my hero.

I miss you dad, I love you