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Karl's sweet birthday surprise for 102-year-old WWII vet

<p>A World War II veteran has celebrated her 102nd birthday with a message from her favourite TV personality: Karl Stefanovic.</p> <p>Joan was forced to spend her milestone birthday trapped in her apartment after the lift in her building broke, leaving her stuck on the third floor. </p> <p>After hearing of her plight, the <a href="https://9now.nine.com.au/a-current-affair/tv-host-karl-stefanovics-special-birthday-message-for-avid-today-show-viewer-on-her-102nd-birthday/8e1bc39e-c11e-429e-b99c-86e2265d0dbb" target="_blank" rel="noopener"><em>A Current Affair</em></a> team took the celebration to Joan and surprised her with a special message from the Today show host. </p> <p>"You're a wonderful man, Karl. Oh boy. I think he's just lovely," Joan said through giggles after watching the personalised video. </p> <p>Joan had planned to celebrate her milestone at the RSL, but her building's lift malfunction left her celebrating alone. </p> <blockquote class="instagram-media" style="background: #FFF; border: 0; border-radius: 3px; box-shadow: 0 0 1px 0 rgba(0,0,0,0.5),0 1px 10px 0 rgba(0,0,0,0.15); margin: 1px; max-width: 540px; min-width: 326px; padding: 0; width: calc(100% - 2px);" data-instgrm-permalink="https://www.instagram.com/reel/C8T3SZJJXqc/?utm_source=ig_embed&utm_campaign=loading" data-instgrm-version="14"> <div style="padding: 16px;"> <div style="display: flex; flex-direction: row; align-items: center;"> <div style="background-color: #f4f4f4; border-radius: 50%; flex-grow: 0; height: 40px; margin-right: 14px; width: 40px;"> </div> <div style="display: flex; flex-direction: column; flex-grow: 1; justify-content: center;"> <div style="background-color: #f4f4f4; border-radius: 4px; flex-grow: 0; height: 14px; margin-bottom: 6px; width: 100px;"> </div> <div style="background-color: #f4f4f4; border-radius: 4px; flex-grow: 0; height: 14px; width: 60px;"> </div> </div> </div> <div style="padding: 19% 0;"> </div> <div style="display: block; height: 50px; margin: 0 auto 12px; width: 50px;"> </div> <div style="padding-top: 8px;"> <div style="color: #3897f0; font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: 550; line-height: 18px;">View this post on Instagram</div> </div> <div style="padding: 12.5% 0;"> </div> <div style="display: flex; flex-direction: row; margin-bottom: 14px; align-items: center;"> <div> <div style="background-color: #f4f4f4; border-radius: 50%; height: 12.5px; width: 12.5px; transform: translateX(0px) translateY(7px);"> </div> <div style="background-color: #f4f4f4; height: 12.5px; transform: rotate(-45deg) translateX(3px) translateY(1px); width: 12.5px; flex-grow: 0; margin-right: 14px; margin-left: 2px;"> </div> <div style="background-color: #f4f4f4; border-radius: 50%; height: 12.5px; width: 12.5px; transform: translateX(9px) translateY(-18px);"> </div> </div> <div style="margin-left: 8px;"> <div style="background-color: #f4f4f4; border-radius: 50%; flex-grow: 0; height: 20px; width: 20px;"> </div> <div style="width: 0; height: 0; border-top: 2px solid transparent; border-left: 6px solid #f4f4f4; border-bottom: 2px solid transparent; transform: translateX(16px) translateY(-4px) rotate(30deg);"> </div> </div> <div style="margin-left: auto;"> <div style="width: 0px; border-top: 8px solid #F4F4F4; border-right: 8px solid transparent; transform: translateY(16px);"> </div> <div style="background-color: #f4f4f4; flex-grow: 0; height: 12px; width: 16px; transform: translateY(-4px);"> </div> <div style="width: 0; height: 0; border-top: 8px solid #F4F4F4; border-left: 8px solid transparent; transform: translateY(-4px) translateX(8px);"> </div> </div> </div> <div style="display: flex; flex-direction: column; flex-grow: 1; justify-content: center; margin-bottom: 24px;"> <div style="background-color: #f4f4f4; border-radius: 4px; flex-grow: 0; height: 14px; margin-bottom: 6px; width: 224px;"> </div> <div style="background-color: #f4f4f4; border-radius: 4px; flex-grow: 0; height: 14px; width: 144px;"> </div> </div> <p style="color: #c9c8cd; font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px; margin-bottom: 0; margin-top: 8px; overflow: hidden; padding: 8px 0 7px; text-align: center; text-overflow: ellipsis; white-space: nowrap;"><a style="color: #c9c8cd; font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none;" href="https://www.instagram.com/reel/C8T3SZJJXqc/?utm_source=ig_embed&utm_campaign=loading" target="_blank" rel="noopener">A post shared by A Current Affair (@acurrentaffair9)</a></p> </div> </blockquote> <p>"I like to enjoy my retirement. I love my RSL. Especially on Friday nights when we have the raffles," Joan told <em>ACA</em>.</p> <p>"But I can't enjoy it at the moment because there's no lift. It's annoying."</p> <p>Joan was born in England in 1922 and at the age of 17, she signed up to serve her country in the war.</p> <p>Joan joined the Women's Auxiliary Air Force where she spent time monitoring radar signals for German bombing raids.</p> <p>"I was doing my job, which I had to do," she said.</p> <p>After the war, Joan married her husband Bob and the pair moved to Australia to start a new life together. </p> <p>"I love everything about Australia. I love swimming, horse riding, everything," Joan said gleefully.</p> <p><em>Image credits: A Current Affair </em></p>

Caring

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Aussie love story from WWII immortalised in the war memorial

<p>An Australian couple's love story that defied the odds of time and distance has been immortalised in the war memorial.</p> <p>The Australian War Memorial is calling for volunteers to help transcribe thousands of love letters sent from soldiers in the war, to their loved ones back at home. </p> <p>Launching on Valentine's Day, the project will see the digital release of hundreds of thousands of personal letters, diaries and other handwritten documents kept safe for decades. </p> <p>Among those stories is the tale of Mac and Dot, two lovebirds separated by World War II. </p> <p>Their love story began in 1939, when Mac was 17 and Dorothy was 14. </p> <p>Dorothy - or as Mac referred to her, his Darling Dot - was forbidden to go on a date with Mac after her father refused to give his blessing. </p> <p>"He kept on asking me to go out but my father wouldn't let me," Dorothy laughed as she told Ally Langdon on <em>A Current Affair</em>. </p> <blockquote class="instagram-media" style="background: #FFF; border: 0; border-radius: 3px; box-shadow: 0 0 1px 0 rgba(0,0,0,0.5),0 1px 10px 0 rgba(0,0,0,0.15); margin: 1px; max-width: 540px; min-width: 326px; padding: 0; width: calc(100% - 2px);" data-instgrm-permalink="https://www.instagram.com/reel/C3Rj4g9vjIS/?utm_source=ig_embed&amp;utm_campaign=loading" data-instgrm-version="14"> <div style="padding: 16px;"> <div style="display: flex; flex-direction: row; align-items: center;"> <div style="background-color: #f4f4f4; border-radius: 50%; flex-grow: 0; height: 40px; margin-right: 14px; width: 40px;"> </div> <div style="display: flex; flex-direction: column; flex-grow: 1; justify-content: center;"> <div style="background-color: #f4f4f4; border-radius: 4px; flex-grow: 0; height: 14px; margin-bottom: 6px; width: 100px;"> </div> <div style="background-color: #f4f4f4; border-radius: 4px; flex-grow: 0; height: 14px; width: 60px;"> </div> </div> </div> <div style="padding: 19% 0;"> </div> <div style="display: block; height: 50px; margin: 0 auto 12px; width: 50px;"> </div> <div style="padding-top: 8px;"> <div style="color: #3897f0; font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: 550; line-height: 18px;">View this post on Instagram</div> </div> <div style="padding: 12.5% 0;"> </div> <div style="display: flex; flex-direction: row; margin-bottom: 14px; align-items: center;"> <div> <div style="background-color: #f4f4f4; border-radius: 50%; height: 12.5px; width: 12.5px; transform: translateX(0px) translateY(7px);"> </div> <div style="background-color: #f4f4f4; height: 12.5px; transform: rotate(-45deg) translateX(3px) translateY(1px); width: 12.5px; flex-grow: 0; margin-right: 14px; margin-left: 2px;"> </div> <div style="background-color: #f4f4f4; border-radius: 50%; height: 12.5px; width: 12.5px; transform: translateX(9px) translateY(-18px);"> </div> </div> <div style="margin-left: 8px;"> <div style="background-color: #f4f4f4; border-radius: 50%; flex-grow: 0; height: 20px; width: 20px;"> </div> <div style="width: 0; height: 0; border-top: 2px solid transparent; border-left: 6px solid #f4f4f4; border-bottom: 2px solid transparent; transform: translateX(16px) translateY(-4px) rotate(30deg);"> </div> </div> <div style="margin-left: auto;"> <div style="width: 0px; border-top: 8px solid #F4F4F4; border-right: 8px solid transparent; transform: translateY(16px);"> </div> <div style="background-color: #f4f4f4; flex-grow: 0; height: 12px; width: 16px; transform: translateY(-4px);"> </div> <div style="width: 0; height: 0; border-top: 8px solid #F4F4F4; border-left: 8px solid transparent; transform: translateY(-4px) translateX(8px);"> </div> </div> </div> <div style="display: flex; flex-direction: column; flex-grow: 1; justify-content: center; margin-bottom: 24px;"> <div style="background-color: #f4f4f4; border-radius: 4px; flex-grow: 0; height: 14px; margin-bottom: 6px; width: 224px;"> </div> <div style="background-color: #f4f4f4; border-radius: 4px; flex-grow: 0; height: 14px; width: 144px;"> </div> </div> <p style="color: #c9c8cd; font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px; margin-bottom: 0; margin-top: 8px; overflow: hidden; padding: 8px 0 7px; text-align: center; text-overflow: ellipsis; white-space: nowrap;"><a style="color: #c9c8cd; font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none;" href="https://www.instagram.com/reel/C3Rj4g9vjIS/?utm_source=ig_embed&amp;utm_campaign=loading" target="_blank" rel="noopener">A post shared by A Current Affair (@acurrentaffair9)</a></p> </div> </blockquote> <p>Mac was soon off to war, but his plan was always to return home to Dot. </p> <p>"He said to me, 'When I come back home...Will you come out with me then?'" Dorothy reminisced.</p> <p>"I said, 'Of course I will, Mac!' And then he gave me a kiss and went to war."</p> <p>The young couple then continued to write each other letters every week for five long years, until Mac was captured by the German army and held as a prisoner of war. </p> <p>Despite his capture, Mac held onto every letter Dot had ever written him, as he remained determined to get home to his beloved. </p> <p>"I hated him being away, and when the letters came back oh gee they were wonderful," Dorothy said.</p> <p>"A letter meant he was still alive, you see, so it was so exciting."</p> <p>In April 1945, Dot received the best letter of all: Mac had escaped and was coming home. </p> <p>"Hello my darling. What does one say in a moment such as this?" Dot wrote on April 30th 1945.</p> <p>"I have butterflies in my stomach, love in my heart and few words that make sense in my mind. Well Mac, it's really coming at last. You're almost home". </p> <p>And Mac wrote back to that, "Hello darling. I miss you more now than ever."</p> <p>"Unfortunately I can't find a boat to take me back to you. If they don't hurry I guess I'll just have to pinch a rowing boat and see what I can do!" </p> <p>When Mac returned home, he brought with him half a decade's worth of those love letters from Dot, as well as a portrait of himself painted by another prisoner of war. </p> <p>It hangs proudly at the end of Dorothy's bed and is the first thing she sees when she wakes.</p> <p>Now Robyn Van Dyke and Terrie-Anne Simmonds from the Australian War Memorial are sifting through thousands of donated love letters, including Mac's and Dorothy's.</p> <p>"He not only managed to escape, but he managed to take all her letters with him and that blows me away because it's not a small amount of letters," Robyn said.</p> <p>The team is looking for <a href="https://transcribe.awm.gov.au" target="_blank" rel="noopener">volunteers</a> to help ensure those stories, and all that love, live forever.</p> <p>Dorothy, who is now 101 years old, had more than 70 wonderful years with Mac before he died in 2014. </p> <p>"He was nearly 90, you know. And me I just kept on going and going and going!" she said.</p> <p>"He'd be up there watching every minute I bet. We had such fun. Oh dear we did have fun. We laughed a lot and we cried a lot."</p> <p>"But we lived - and that was the main thing."</p> <p><em>Image credits: A Current Affair </em></p> <p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 24px 0px 0px; padding: 0px; border: 0px; font-stretch: inherit; font-size: 18px; line-height: 1.333; font-family: 'Proxima Nova', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size-adjust: inherit; font-kerning: inherit; font-variant-alternates: inherit; font-variant-ligatures: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-position: inherit; font-feature-settings: inherit; font-optical-sizing: inherit; font-variation-settings: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; caret-color: #333333; color: #333333; letter-spacing: 0.25px;"> </p>

Relationships

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Record-busting droughts are uncovering long-lost relics

<p dir="ltr">As much of the Northern Hemisphere experiences record-breaking droughts, the drying up of lakes, rivers and other bodies of water has exposed more than just dirt and debris.</p> <p dir="ltr">In Spain, a prehistoric circle of stones dubbed “Spanish Stonehenge” has emerged in a drying dam in the central province of Caceres. Since it was first discovered in 1926 and was subsequently covered by floodwaters, the stones have only been visible four times.</p> <p><span id="docs-internal-guid-69e9e002-7fff-0420-4ae2-bd5f650e4fd8"></span></p> <p dir="ltr">Elsewhere in Europe, 20 German WWII warships have been exposed, sunken in the Danube River near Serbia’s river port town of Prahovo.</p> <p dir="ltr"><img src="https://oversixtydev.blob.core.windows.net/media/2022/09/ww2-ships.jpg" alt="" width="1280" height="720" /></p> <p dir="ltr"><em>Twenty Nazi warships emerged as the Danue River continues to dry up. Image: Reuters (YouTube) </em></p> <p dir="ltr">The Nazi German ships were among hundreds that sailed up the Danube while retreating from Soviet forces in 1944, and still hamper traffic traversing the river when water levels are low.</p> <p dir="ltr">In late July, a previously submerged WWII bomb weighing a whopping 450kg was discovered in the River Po, as the country declared a state of emergency in areas around the lengthy river as a result of the low water levels.</p> <p dir="ltr"><span id="docs-internal-guid-8607bc8a-7fff-40e9-c277-fb640bddce8a"></span></p> <p dir="ltr">The ageing explosive was defused in a controlled explosion by military experts earlier this month near the village of Bogo Virgilio, but not before about 3,000 people were evacuated from the area, per <em><a href="https://www.aljazeera.com/news/2022/8/20/europes-drought-exposes-wwii-ships-bombs-and-prehistoric-stones" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Al Jazeera</a></em>.</p> <p dir="ltr"><img src="https://oversixtydev.blob.core.windows.net/media/2022/09/bomb1.jpg" alt="" width="1280" height="720" /></p> <p dir="ltr"><em>Military experts were deployed to detonate a 450kg bomb uncovered in Italy’s Polo River. Image: Global News (YouTube)</em></p> <p dir="ltr">Meanwhile, droughts in the US have exposed ancient footprints belonging to dinosaurs, as well as victims of suspected mob killings.</p> <p dir="ltr"><span id="docs-internal-guid-5c588192-7fff-5897-d1fc-eec76d0abe5a"></span></p> <p dir="ltr">In early July, the skeletal remains of a man who was shot in the head, stuffed in a barrel and tossed into Lake Mead, located outside the city of Las Vegas, were uncovered, with experts believing he would have died in the 1980s.</p> <p dir="ltr"><img src="https://oversixtydev.blob.core.windows.net/media/2022/09/dino-tracks.jpg" alt="" width="1280" height="720" /></p> <p dir="ltr"><em>Dinosaur tracks believed to be 113 million years old were found in a state park in Texas. Image: Texas Park and Wildlife Department</em></p> <p dir="ltr">The lake, along with the Hudson River, provides most of southern Nevada’s drinking water and has reached its lowest point since it was filled 90 years ago, as reported by <em><a href="https://www.forbes.com/sites/priyashukla/2022/05/03/drought-reveals-homicide-victim-as-lake-mead-recedes/?sh=6d6c198f3943" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Forbes</a></em>.</p> <p dir="ltr">A discovery of Jurassic proportions was made at Dinosaur Valley State Park in Texas, after footprints believed to date back 113 million years were found.</p> <p dir="ltr">The tracks belong to the Arocanthosaurus, a bipedal dinosaur with three toes and a claw on each limb, per <em><a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2022/08/24/science/dinosaur-tracks-texas-drought.html" target="_blank" rel="noopener">The New York Times</a></em>.</p> <p dir="ltr">Others that were also uncovered belong to Sauroposeidon proteles, a 15-metre-long dinosaur with a long neck and small head.</p> <p dir="ltr">As the fierce weather continues, experts believe more of these kinds of finds will emerge.</p> <p dir="ltr"><span id="docs-internal-guid-8560d718-7fff-73ba-3d6f-4e601c7ccece"></span></p> <p dir="ltr"><em>Images: Texas Park and Wildlife Department / Reuters (YouTube)</em></p>

International Travel

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One of Australia’s last surviving ‘Rats of Tobruk’ passes away aged 102

<p dir="ltr">Dennis Davis, a World War II veteran and one of Australia’s last surviving ‘Rats of Tobruk’ has passed away aged 102.</p> <p dir="ltr">Mr Davis was one of 14,000 diggers who held out against German and Italian forces in the 241-day siege on Libya’s Tobruk port in 1941.</p> <p dir="ltr">The Aussie soldiers, along with another 5,000 allied soldiers, were dubbed the ‘Rats of Tobruk’ for their efforts over the eight-month campaign.</p> <p dir="ltr">After falling ill in the days before Anzac Day this year, Mr Davis secured a leave pass from the hospital so that he could still attend an Anzac ceremony at Sydney’s Town Hall, where he laid a wreath in honour of his fellow veterans.</p> <p dir="ltr">“It was harder to get out of the hospital than it was to get out of the army,” he joked to his family, according to the Australian Remembrance Foundation.</p> <p><span id="docs-internal-guid-93834177-7fff-a6cd-81e6-44a2f7f70cc6"></span></p> <p dir="ltr">During Channel 7’s ‘Lest We Forget’ concert tribute to the ANZACs earlier this year, Mr Davis was the subject of a Veteran’s Tribute, before he laid the wreath at the Town Hall Anzac Day service.</p> <p><iframe title="YouTube video player" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/oaq3RS9Rffk?start=904&amp;end=1174" width="560" height="315" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen="allowfullscreen"></iframe></p> <p dir="ltr">On Monday, August 15, Mr Davis attended a ceremony at the cenotaph in Sydney’s Martin Place with fellow veterans to mark the 77th Victory in the Pacific Day.</p> <p dir="ltr">The foundation announced Mr Davis’ passing on Thursday, August 18, as reported by the AAP.</p> <p dir="ltr"><a href="https://anzacportal.dva.gov.au/stories-service/veterans-stories/dennis-daviss-story" target="_blank" rel="noopener">His story</a> is also included in the Department of Veterans’ Affairs stories of service program, which shares the experiences of veterans to support education in Australia’s military history.</p> <p dir="ltr">After migrating from London to Australia, Mr Davis enlisted in the Australian Imperial Force in 1940, serving in the Middle East, New Guinea and Borneo during WWII.</p> <p dir="ltr">Following his involvement in the Seige of Tobruk and battles at El Alamein, Mr Davis was sent to serve in a newly formed ski unit.</p> <p dir="ltr">On his return to Australia, he married his fiancé Margaret before departing again to serve in New Guinea and Borneo.</p> <p dir="ltr">Mr Davis was finally discharged in November 1945 and returned to his job at the tax office.</p> <p dir="ltr">He was married to Margaret for 61 years before she passed away in 2004, and they are both survived by two children, seven grandchildren, and 20 great-grandchildren.</p> <p dir="ltr"><span id="docs-internal-guid-0e00ab4d-7fff-d18b-d13f-756758a25c16"></span></p> <p dir="ltr"><em>Image: Veterans’ Foundation (Facebook)</em></p>

Caring

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Historic first as unique WWII sea fort bunker goes on sale

<p>A decommissioned World War II fort in the middle of the ocean is being auctioned off for the first time in an historic sale. </p> <p>Starting at £50,000 (A$87k), the abandoned concrete vessel was initially built between 1915 and 1919 for naval defence during World War I, but was not operational until WWII.</p> <p>The property, which is located in the Humber Estuary of Northern England, is defined by the United Kingdom as a “grade II” building or structure that is “of special interest, warranting every effort to preserve it”, making it a historic listing.</p> <p>The unique marine dwelling under the hammer on July 19th through <a href="https://www.rightmove.co.uk/properties/124641977?utm_campaign=later-linkinbio-zillowgonewild&amp;utm_content=later-28287929&amp;utm_medium=social&amp;utm_source=linkin.bio#/?channel=RES_BUY" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Savills National Auctions</a>.</p> <p>The ship once featured 30cm of armour on one side and an arsenal of weapons on the other, which was enough to support a garrison of up to 200 soldiers, according to the listing.</p> <p>The armour and weaponry were stripped from the site back in 1956.</p> <p>The sea fort is made up of three floors with a basement and a chamber below sea level, and also features a central two-storey observation tower.</p> <p>“In need of refurbishment throughout with potential for development /alternative uses, subject to consent.” the listing explains.</p> <p>The sea fort itself can only be accessed ‘by private boat’ from a port just south of Hull, located approximately five hours from London.</p> <p><em>Image credits: rightmove.co.uk</em></p>

Real Estate

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Tributes flow for one of our oldest WWII veterans

<p>One of Australia's oldest surviving World War II veterans, Bert Collins has died. Aged 105, he was the oldest member of the Australian Labor Party.</p><p>Albert "Bert" Collins was due to celebrate his 106th birthday in March.</p><p>Tributes recognising and remembering the Bankstown local have been posted online following news of his death. "My friend Bert Collins passed away this morning," Blaxland MP Jason Clare said.</p><p>"Bert was the oldest member of the Australian Labor Party.</p><p>"He would have turned 106 next month. Rest in Peace old friend."</p><blockquote class="twitter-tweet"><p dir="ltr" lang="en">Sad news. My friend Bert Collins passed away this morning. <br /><br />Bert was the oldest member of the ⁦<a href="https://twitter.com/AustralianLabor?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">@AustralianLabor</a>⁩ Party. <br /><br />He would have turned 106 next month. Rest In Peace old friend. <a href="https://t.co/kN0Td8I2wz">pic.twitter.com/kN0Td8I2wz</a></p>— Jason Clare MP (@JasonClareMP) <a href="https://twitter.com/JasonClareMP/status/1492753650015703040?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">February 13, 2022</a></blockquote><p>The Labor Party also posted "Vale Bert Collins" on social media.</p><p>Mr Collins rose to the rank of a sergeant in the 52nd Australian Composite Anti-Aircraft Regiment (AIF) based in Papua New Guinea.</p><p>The veteran's Anzac spirit has never wavered and was a quality admired by many.</p><p>"When I was a boy, my Mum instilled in me a very important lesson, which I've lived by my entire life," he told the Canterbury-Bankstown Council last year.</p><p>"She said I must remember to never be rude to anyone, to never tell lies and to always show respect towards others … and I have every day of my life."</p><p><em>Image: Nine News</em></p>

Caring

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“An amazing story”: Karl uncovers his family’s ties to war

<p><span style="font-weight: 400;">In a special episode of the </span><em><span style="font-weight: 400;">Today</span></em><span style="font-weight: 400;"> show, Karl and Ally have been given a rare insight into their family histories during World War I and World War II.</span></p> <p><span style="font-weight: 400;">The TV hosts sent information about their family trees to Ancestry, with Karl making a surprise discovery about his grandfather.</span></p> <p><span style="font-weight: 400;">Karl knew his grandfather, Dragic Stefanovic, was captured by Germans during World War II, but he didn’t know what Dragic’s experience as a prisoner of war was like.</span></p> <p><span style="font-weight: 400;">He found out that Dragic was a captive for four years before being moved to a displaced persons camp.</span></p> <p><span style="font-weight: 400;">Dragic was working and studying while in the camp to support his young son and wife, who he met in a prisoner of war camp.</span></p> <p><img style="width: 0px; height:0px;" src="https://oversixtydev.blob.core.windows.net/media/7845528/today-war1.jpg" alt="" data-udi="umb://media/75c15518292743f1aeb47fd6199fb993" /></p> <p><em><span style="font-weight: 400;">Karl uncovered details about how his grandparents met in a prisoner of war camp in Germany. Image: National Archives of Australia</span></em></p> <p><span style="font-weight: 400;">He applied for his wife and son to move into the camp with him, but Ancestry discovered that his application was likely rejected because Dragic was from Yugoslavia and his wife was German.</span></p> <p><span style="font-weight: 400;">“You can see records of him applying to go back home to Yugoslavia but they rejected him,” Ancestry’s Madeleine Wilson </span><a rel="noopener" href="https://9now.nine.com.au/today/ancestry-karl-and-ally-given-captivating-insight-into-family-history/67c5081a-02ae-4124-9052-3bab131a392a" target="_blank"><span style="font-weight: 400;">said</span></a><span style="font-weight: 400;"> on the show.</span></p> <p><span style="font-weight: 400;">“We can only assume it was on political grounds because his wife was German and he was captured by the German Nazis.</span></p> <p><span style="font-weight: 400;">“We assume that’s what actually led to him applying to live in Australia and he ultimately became one of the 170,000 displaced people that called Australia home after the war.”</span></p> <p><span style="font-weight: 400;">Karl’s grandparents eventually settled in Wollongong with their son.</span></p> <p><span style="font-weight: 400;">“It is an amazing story,” Karl said.</span></p> <p><span style="font-weight: 400;">Meanwhile, Ally discovered that her great uncle, Francis Evan Perrett, volunteered to enlist in the Australian Imperial Force during World War I. </span></p> <p><span style="font-weight: 400;">He was also in the 15th Battalion which was known for their efforts on the frontline in Gallipoli.</span></p> <p><span style="font-weight: 400;">Ally’s Ancestry results also uncovered a surprise about her great uncle’s service.</span></p> <p><span style="font-weight: 400;">Francis broke camp and disappeared one night for about 12 hours, and lost a day’s pay as punishment.</span></p> <p><img style="width: 0px; height:0px;" src="https://oversixtydev.blob.core.windows.net/media/7845529/today-war2.jpg" alt="" data-udi="umb://media/468c5f1c173b4ecebfc3f07834599962" /></p> <p><em><span style="font-weight: 400;">Ally discovered more about her great uncle’s service in World War I, and the day he ‘played hooky’ at Anzac Cove. Image: National Archives of Australia</span></em></p> <p><span style="font-weight: 400;">Ms Wilson said he may have wanted to get away from the camp for a night after arriving into Anzac Cove, having witnessed the bombardment of one of the ships that arrived before his.</span></p> <p><span style="font-weight: 400;">“You can only imagine the thoughts going through his mind knowing he was heading to the same place. He saw that bombardment of the troops. He landed on the ground, Anzac Cove, about 12 hours later,” she said.</span></p> <p><span style="font-weight: 400;">“He ended up serving for six months on the frontline and, unfortunately, in the end, he was killed in action in May in 1915.”</span></p> <p><span style="font-weight: 400;">Unfortunately Ancestry couldn’t determine how Francis died or where he was buried.</span></p> <p><span style="font-weight: 400;">He is among the many soldiers commemorated at Lone Pine Memorial. Ancestry found a receipt of service that was signed by his father, who went on to receive a pension of $70 a year for the rest of his life.</span></p> <p><span style="font-weight: 400;">Ally was emotional when she found out about her great uncle.</span></p> <p><span style="font-weight: 400;">“This is so beautiful,” she said.</span></p> <p><em><span style="font-weight: 400;">Image: Today</span></em></p>

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Colin Firth takes on Hitler in new spy movie

<p><span style="font-weight: 400;">After appearing as the fictional spy Galahd in the </span><em><span style="font-weight: 400;">Kingsman</span></em><span style="font-weight: 400;"> trilogy, Colin Firth </span><a rel="noopener" href="https://www.empireonline.com/movies/news/colin-firth-plots-to-trick-hitler-operation-mincemeat-trailer/" target="_blank"><span style="font-weight: 400;">is portraying</span></a><span style="font-weight: 400;"> a real-life spy in the new trailer for </span><em><span style="font-weight: 400;">Operation Mincemeat</span></em><span style="font-weight: 400;">.</span></p> <p><span style="font-weight: 400;">Despite the grisly name, the movie is named after the real operation run by British intelligence officers during World War 2, where they attempted to thwart the Nazis by planting a dead body in enemy waters with a briefcase full of fake documents.</span></p> <p><span style="font-weight: 400;">See the trailer here:</span></p> <p><iframe width="560" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/YQ7ZXOXHZ20" title="YouTube video player" frameborder="0" allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen=""></iframe></p> <p><span style="font-weight: 400;">Firth is set to play Ewen Montagu, the British naval intelligence officer who came up with the idea for Operation Mincemeat along with Matthew Macfadyen’s Charles Cholmondeley.</span></p> <p><span style="font-weight: 400;"><img style="width: 0px; height: 0px;" src="https://oversixtydev.blob.core.windows.net/media/7844679/mincemeat1.jpg" alt="" data-udi="umb://media/2c9d93e8b1b5492c9927d09c869a96d5" /></span></p> <p><em><span style="font-weight: 400;">British musician Johnny Flynn portrays author and intelligence officer Ian Fleming.</span></em></p> <p><span style="font-weight: 400;">Alongside the scheming duo, the cast includes Penelope Wilton as Hester Leggest, Johnny Flynn as <em>James </em></span><span style="font-weight: 400;"><em>Bond</em> </span><span style="font-weight: 400;">author and intelligence officer Ian Fleming, and Kelly Macdonald’s Jean Leslie.</span></p> <p><span style="font-weight: 400;"><img style="width: 500px; height: 281.25px;" src="https://oversixtydev.blob.core.windows.net/media/7844680/mincemeat2.jpg" alt="" data-udi="umb://media/54cdfbaa95fb4ef7a57d71c0714e4eea" /></span></p> <p><em><span style="font-weight: 400;">Kelly Macdonald as Jean Leslie, the MI5 clerk whose image was used in the operation.</span></em></p> <p><span style="font-weight: 400;">Jason Isaac is set to play skeptical John Godfrey, while Winston Churchill will be portrayed by Simon Russell Beale.</span></p> <p><span style="font-weight: 400;">John Madden - the director behind </span><span style="font-weight: 400;">Shakespeare in Love</span><span style="font-weight: 400;"> and </span><span style="font-weight: 400;">The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel</span><span style="font-weight: 400;"> - is directing the all-star cast.</span></p> <p><em><span style="font-weight: 400;">Operation Mincemeat </span></em><span style="font-weight: 400;">is </span><a rel="noopener" href="https://www.flicks.co.nz/movie/operation-mincemeat/" target="_blank"><span style="font-weight: 400;">due to be released</span></a><span style="font-weight: 400;"> in cinemas in early April of next year.</span></p> <p><em><span style="font-weight: 400;">Images: @netflixfilm / Instagram</span></em></p>

Movies

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WWII veteran’s postcard delivered 77 years later

<p><span>A letter written over 77 years ago by a World War II veteran has finally made its way home to his family.</span><br /><br /><span>Bill Caldwell was a little over 18 years old when he joined England's Royal Navy.</span><br /><br /><span>During his first week of training, he sent a postcard to his family back home.</span><br /><br /><span>The note was addressed to Mr Caldwell's "Uncle Fred" and was postmarked 1943 with a stamp saying: "Post early in the day."</span><br /><br /><span>Strangely enough, the postcard was not delivered to his childhood home, where some of his relatives still live, until February 2021 – over 77 years later.</span><br /><br /><span>While Uncle Fred has since died as well as Mr Caldwell 25 years ago, Fred's daughter Joanna Creamer said reading the 77-year-old postcard was "surreal".</span><br /><br /><span>"Well I am in blue at last. I did not think it would be like this – you don't get much time for yourself, do you?" the postcard said, according to the BBC.</span><br /><br /><span>"But I like it alright.</span><br /><br /><span>"I will write a letter to you all when I get half a chance so will you hold on a bit? I have 19 weeks here yet.</span><br /><br /><span>"Give my love to everyone. Love, Bill."</span></p> <p><img style="width: 500px; height: 281.25px;" src="https://oversixtydev.blob.core.windows.net/media/7840036/qqii-veteran.jpg" alt="" data-udi="umb://media/a4358153621949ad9de5ab34666c63f6" /><br /><br /><span>Mr Caldwell's daughter Elizabeth told the Daily Mail the story was "crazy" and understood it was "hard to believe".</span><br /><br /><span>She said her father loved to tell stories, but he would never write.</span><br /><br /><span>"To actually see his handwriting was beautiful," she said.</span><br /><br /><span>A spokesperson for the Royal Mail explained to the BBC that it was likely someone put the aged postcard back into the postal system recently.</span></p>

Family & Pets

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100-year-old man charged with 3,518 murders in WWII

<div class="post_body_wrapper"> <div class="post_body"> <div class="body_text redactor-styles redactor-in"> <p>German prosecutors have charged a 100-year-old man with 3,518 counts of accessory to murder after allegations the man served during the second world war as a Nazi SS guard at a concentration camp.</p> <p>He is alleged to have worked at the Sachsenhausen camp between 1942 and 1945.</p> <p>The man's name has not been released in line with Germany privacy laws, but Cyrill Klement, the lead investigator, believes that the man was an enlisted member of the Nazi party's paramilitary wing.</p> <p>Despite being 100, the man is considered fit enough to stand trial, but accommodations may have to be made to limit how many hours a day the court is in session, according to <a rel="noopener" href="https://www.theguardian.com/world/2021/feb/09/man-100-charged-in-germany-over-3518-nazi-concentration-camp-murders" target="_blank"><em>The Guardian</em></a>.</p> <p>“The advanced age of the defendants is no excuse to ignore them and allow them to live in the peace and tranquillity they denied their victims,” Efraim Zuroff of the Simon Wiesenthal Center said.</p> <p>The case was handed to the Neuruppin office in 2019 by the special federal prosecutors' office in Ludwigsburg, which is tasked with investigating Nazi-era war crimes.</p> <p>The case against the 100-year-old man relies on a recently set legal precedent in Germany that establishes anyone who helped a Nazi camp function can be prosecuted for accessory to the murders that were committed there.</p> <p>The court has not yet set a date for the trial.</p> </div> </div> </div>

Legal

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Rare home with rich WWII history hits market

<p><span>A historic home that was once used as the headquarters of the US central Bureau has hit the market, becoming one of the rarest properties available.</span><br /><br /><span>Nyrambla, a stunning, antique hillside estate built in 1885 at 21 Henry Street, Ascot, was owned by Brisbane socialite Andree Daws.</span><br /><br /><span>Mrs Daws, who was married to acclaimed artist Lawrence Daws, Kemp the historic property in pristine condition until she died in August.</span><br /><br /><span>The home was first bought by Mrs Daws’s grandfather George Willoughby Whatmore in the 1920s.</span><br /><br /><span>It eventually was converted into flats after he died in 1929.</span><br /><br /><span>Computers were set up in Nyrambla’s garage, are were used to crack enemy codes during the war.</span><br /><br /><span>Remarkably enough, in April 1943 these computers intercepted and decoded a Japanese signal that lead to the ambush and death of Admiral Yamamoto, who oversaw the attack on Pearl Harbour.</span><br /><br /><span>The bureau stayed in situ at Nyrambla until 1945.</span><br /><br /><span>Mrs Daws married Lawrence, her fifth husband, in 2013 and went on to turn a part of Nyrambla into an art studio for him.</span><br /><br /><span>His works hang in public collections around the world, including at the National Gallery of Australia, Tate Gallery inLondon and Scottish National Gallery of Modern Art in Edinburgh.</span><br /><br /><span>Some of his paintings also adorned the stunning coloured walls of Nyrambla.</span><br /><br /><span>The home is being sold through expressions of interest.</span></p>

Real Estate

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New podcast features inspiring stories and struggles of WWII

<p class="p1">75 years on, unsung heroes of World War II have revealed new stories and struggles.</p> <p class="p1">Rare insights and reflections will be revealed in a new Podcast series, <em>My Life at War</em>.</p> <p class="p1"><em>My Life at War</em> is a podcast series about the experiences of Australians in WWII, told through the eyes of veterans receiving aged care from Uniting NSW. ACT.</p> <p class="p1">Stories include the signal operator who first heard Japanese midget submarines off Sydney, the 15-year-old who falsified his age to get into the Air Force, Australia’s first Indigenous Air Force pilot and the female veterans who faced discrimination on Anzac Day immediately after the war.</p> <p class="p1">Uniting NSW. ACT Executive Director, Tracey Burton said the podcast is a timely reminder of the important contribution older Australians have made, and continue to make.</p> <p class="p1">“In a year when our elders are enduring a pandemic, it’s more important than ever to remember how incredibly valuable they are to our community,” she said.</p> <p class="p1">“We need to listen to these stories and remind ourselves about the sacrifices they have made and how they helped build and enrich our country.”</p> <p class="p1">The veterans recall how their initial training was often short and inadequate and then how they dealt with constant danger and death in combat operations.</p> <p class="p1">They also reveal surprising details, such as the initial consternation caused by Prime Minister Robert Menzies’ famous 1939 speech where he declared that Australia was now involved in a war on the other side of the globe.</p> <p class="p1"><img style="width: 500px; height: 500px;" src="https://oversixtydev.blob.core.windows.net/media/7838737/my-life-at-war-cover-art.jpg" alt="" data-udi="umb://media/840368f6971740d3a1c7cbfb9d608855" /></p> <p class="p1">Also, our veterans speak of their enduring memories of when they first wore their military uniforms. “What also stuck out in the memories of men who served in the Air Force, for instance, was that they believed the blue uniform made them especially attractive to women,” said military historian David Wilson.</p> <p class="p1">“The other thing to emphasise here is the role of women. As the war progressed, more and more women stepped up to take the places of men serving overseas. They served in all branches of the military, in civilian organisations, industry and agriculture, such as in the Women’s Land Army. Women kept the nation ticking over during these years,” he added.</p> <p class="p1">The series follows the veterans from the time the war was declared, through conflicts abroad and on our shores and life after the guns fell silent.</p> <p class="p1">The podcast can be found via <a href="http://Uniting.org/veterans"><span class="s1">Uniting.org/veterans</span></a> or all major podcasting apps.</p>

Retirement Life

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WWII veteran granted his own Anzac day parade

<p>A 100-year-old World War II veteran has gone some way towards receiving the honour that he and his comrades deserve this year, despite the global coronavirus pandemic.</p> <p>Henry “Corky” Caldwell, who has not missed an Anzac Day parade in 75 years, told ABCNews that his family and an online community supported him through his journey to make sure he didn’t miss out on this year’s procession in spite of cancellations due to coronavirus restrictions.</p> <p>The decision to cancel gatherings around the country this year shocked this centenarian Digger from the New South Wales north coast, but his family and an online community rallied around him to make sure he didn't miss out.</p> <p>"It's very important. I've been going to it ever since the war finished," Corky said.</p> <p>Suzanne Lofts, Mr Caldwell's daughter, says Anzac Day means much more than just a parade for her father.</p> <p>"He does get very emotional about Anzac Day, he often has a tear when he lays his wreath because it reminds him of all his mates who have passed," Ms Lofts explained.</p> <p>"All his granddaughters and grandsons come from Sydney, Newcastle, and Brisbane to celebrate with him.</p> <p>"So, he was fairly gutted when Anzac Day wasn't going to happen this year."</p> <p>Ms Lofts took to Facebook to voice her father’s disappointment about the Anzac Day procession being cancelled – and the reaction she received was something she could not have imagined.</p> <p>Thousands of people took to the comments to thank the veteran for his service to his country and asked his family if there was anything that they could do to make the day more special for him.</p> <p>The online community sent in cards and paintings to Mr Caldwell.</p> <p>Phil Heesch from Grafton was made aware of the post from a friend who told him "that there was a very disappointed World War II Digger in Grafton who wanted a ride in a jeep because Anzac Day was cancelled.</p> <p>"Turns out that it's the same guy — Corky — who I take every year in our parade in Grafton," explained Mr Heesch.</p> <p>Mr Heesch offered to take Mr Caldwell on his own private, socially distanced parade through the streets of Grafton two weeks prior to Anzac Day, so the veteran could safely lay a wreath at the cenotaph.</p> <p><span>Ms Lofts says she grew up with an endless amount of war memorabilia and photographs of her father during the war.</span></p> <p>"He talks a lot about his war years, never the serious side of it but the funny, exciting side of it," Ms Lofts said.</p> <p>Mr Caldwell was just 21 when he enlisted in the war and was assigned to a unit of engineers who works in an Ordnance workshop near Cairo, Egypt.</p> <p>Before he shipped out, he armed himself with a then state-of-the-art Kodak pocket camera.</p> <p>The veteran worked long, tireless hours where he repaired tanks damaged in battle and ambulance.</p> <p>In 2008, Mr Caldwell was given the Medal of the Order of Australia for his service to the community of the Clarence Valley region.</p> <p>In his 100 years of living, the war veteran admits he has lived through some difficult times, and as a child growing up through the Great Depression, his family was forced to live off rabbits and ducks.</p> <p>Food was scarce and “rationed”. Mr Caldwell says his mother "used to talk about how hard it was to buy food in the shops."</p> <p>Watching people panic-buy through the coronavirus pandemic has been a surprise for the veteran who believes “people are panicking too much.”</p> <p>"I think if they look after themselves, live quietly do the right thing, it [the virus] won't spread."</p>

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WWII Digger's Great Escape

<p>A khaki felt army cap has sat on a bookshelf in my home in Sydney for nine years.</p> <p>Two metal press-studs secure the brim, and the five-pointed, red communist star graces the front.</p> <p>The crown has the faint odour of human sweat.</p> <p>It is a partizanka, a cap worn by Yugoslav Partisan soldiers in Croatia and western Bosnia during World War II.</p> <p>The partizanka is something of a collector’s piece, as few like it remain.</p> <p>For me, it represents a promise I need to fulfil.</p> <p><strong>Partisan Promise</strong></p> <p>It is impossible to look at the cap and not wonder about its bloody history.</p> <p>It had two rightful owners, Boris Puks*, a Croatian Partisan fighter, and Ernest ‘Ern’ Brough, a World War II veteran from Geelong, Victoria, who gave it to me in 2009.</p> <p>My part in its history is a small footnote compared to the life it once led in the mountains and forests of wartime Yugoslavia.</p> <p>The cap arrived in the post not long after I met Ern, accompanied by a note: “Marc - a gift to me from Puks Boris, 1944, at Cassma, Croatia.”</p> <p>When I phoned Ern to thank him, he made me promise to give it to the Australian War Memorial when he died.</p> <p>This artefact now belongs where Ern had intended.</p> <p>The voices of World War II are fast disappearing and as Ern is still alive, I want him to have the chance to once again share his story.</p> <p>* Boris Puks is called Puks Boris in Ernest Brough’s book, Dangerous Days.</p> <p><strong>A Great Adventure</strong></p> <p>Six weeks after Ern turned 20, on March 28, 1940, he enlisted in the Second Australian Imperial Force.</p> <p>This apprentice butcher from Drouin, in rural Victoria, had very little life experience behind him, but the Army deployed him to Libya to protect the besieged port of Tobruk.</p> <p>He arrived in May 1941.</p> <p>“It was a case of keeping ’em out. Don’t let ’em in, that’s it. Fight for your life,” he said later.</p> <p>Following nearly three months of relentless battle, Ern was wounded by German machine-gun fire during a patrol.</p> <p>He recovered and was then sent to Egypt to fight in the pivotal Battle of El Alamein. Captured by German forces, Ern spent time in a POW camp in Italy before eventually ending up in Stalag XVIII-A/Z, a notorious Nazi POW camp in Austria.</p> <p>After two years, along with fellow Australian Sergeant Arnold ‘Allan’ Berry, and New Zealander Private Eric Baty, he escaped from an Arbeitskommando (prison farm camp) near Graz and spent two months on a desperate flight through first Austria, and then Slovenia, Croatia and Bosnia.</p> <p><strong>A Story Revealed</strong></p> <p>Ern offered me Puks’s cap during our first interview in 2009.</p> <p>I had seen a photograph of it in his book and was taken by its historical significance. </p> <p>I knew that he treasured the partizanka cap and had proudly showed it to mates at his local RSL club.</p> <p>Ern appreciated my knowledge of the place where he spent the final months of World War II.</p> <p>“I reckon you can use it more than me, now,” he said.</p> <p>I was reluctant to accept Ern’s cherished cap, but he sent it to me soon afterwards.</p> <p>Now, nine years later, I hoped to return the cap to Ern and see about giving it to the Australian War Memorial.</p> <p>I call the phone number in Geelong that I’d dialled years earlier. After a few rings, a man answers. It’s Ern, who confirms he is very much alive.</p> <p>We arrange for me to interview him two days later. Not long after, Lizzie Campbell, Ern’s carer, calls me to check who I am.</p> <p>Ern has no problem remembering the cap, but he can’t remember giving it to me. These days, Lizzie explains, such memories can elude him.</p> <p>When I call him back as planned, Ern has had time to flick through his book.</p> <p>Details of his time in Tobruk and Croatia are clearer. “How the hell did we ever get through it?” he asks me in a wavering voice.</p> <p>While in Tobruk, fear wasn’t part of Ern’s thinking “A lot of them used to sweat it out,” he recalls. “They had a terrible time. I didn’t care. I was walking around as if I owned the place.”</p> <p>When I press him for more information about the cap and ­Boris Puks, his memory is sketchy. Ern remembers that the cap belonged to Puks, that he was a Croatian Partisan and that Puks gave him the cap as a gesture of thanks.</p> <p>That’s where it stops.</p> <p>“No, I don’t remember,” he tells me.</p> <p>“When you’re young, you learn something and you shove it aside.”</p> <p>More questions about the cap eventually jog his memory.</p> <p>“I used to put a big white turkey feather in it,” he says with a laugh.</p> <p><strong>After the War</strong></p> <p>After the war, Ern returned to country Victoria and resumed work as a butcher.</p> <p>They were difficult times. Shell-shocked and damaged, adjusting to peacetime wasn’t easy.</p> <p>He felt “wild on the inside” and at times resorted to fighting and drinking.</p> <p>“Allan, Eric and I had lived like dogs,” he writes in Dangerous Days.</p> <p>“Every day had been a dangerous day, every shadow a possible predator. We survived on instinct, so it was always going to be difficult to slip back into a civilised world.”</p> <p>Getting the images of war out of his head was hard and Ern believes he suffered from PTSD.</p> <p>He tells me about a time on a train to Melbourne when he attacked a man who had tried to scrounge the last of his tobacco.</p> <p>It took four other men to restrain him. He was also plagued by nightmares and one time woke to find himself trying to throttle his beloved wife, Edna May.</p> <p>Puks wrote to Ern several times and was interested in emigrating to Australia, but Puks was a communist, so the authorities kept an eye on the letters Ern received, placing him under surveillance for six years. ­</p> <p>Anti-communist sentiment was strong at the time.</p> <p>When Ern discovered his movements were being monitored, he was outraged but realised it was safer to end their correspondence.</p> <p><strong>A Promise fulfilled</strong></p> <p>Ever aware of my promise, I call the Australian War Memorial in Canberra to ask about donating the cap to its collection. They are keenly interested in Ern’s story – and the rare artefact – so decide to fly Ern and Lizzie to Canberra and appropriately recognise his donation.</p> <p>On February 6 this year, on a hot, dry Canberra morning, I arrived at the Australian War Memorial ready to hand over the cap to Ern.</p> <p>Frailer than when we last met, he still has that sparkle in his eyes and an easy laugh.</p> <p>In the Commemorative Courtyard before the Pool of Reflection, surrounded by the Roll of Honour commemorating the more than 102,000 Australians who have died in war, Sergeant Ernest James Brough of the 2nd/32nd Infantry Battalion presented the cap to Brendan Nelson, the director of the Australian War Memorial.</p> <p>“People will look at the cap and realise that a Partisan risked his own life and safety to help this Australian escape,” Nelson says.</p> <p>“And at the end he gave his cap to Ern. It will make people ask, ‘Why did he do that?’ Thanks to this simple gesture, the memorial now has an important artefact that tells Ern’s inspirational story of survival and mateship.”</p> <p>Across the courtyard, a group of 18 soldiers are practising a drill. Nelson calls them over and introduces them to Ern, the former POW and Rat of ­Tobruk.</p> <p>Each one eagerly approaches the old man to shake his hand. It is a moving moment. Young soldiers paying respect to a frail, decorated war hero from their own defence history.</p> <p>Ern visited Eric Baty in New Zealand 46 years after their escape. They talked about the time the Partisan attacked his brother and how Ern had stopped Eric from getting involved.</p> <p>“Eric thanked me for saving his life that time,” Ern told me in 2009. “They would have shot him for sure. But I said, ‘No, Eric, it’s me who must thank you for saving my life in the river.’ ”</p> <p>It took Ern more than 60 years to bring himself to write about his war experiences. He comes from a generation who were taught to be stoic but reticent in the face of misfortune.</p> <p>Writer Kim Kelly worked closely with Ern, talking with him every day for a month to research his memoir.</p> <p>She found that he did not want to talk about what happened when he returned to Australia.</p> <p>“The idea of PTSD was not talked about in his day,” she explains.</p> <p>“They used alcohol instead. Today, he is clear-sighted about it and believes returned soldiers need a story debrief about their war experiences, such as writing it down or speaking into a microphone.”</p> <p><strong>Ern's story</strong></p> <p>It helped Ern to be able to tell his war story.</p> <p>“He believed going to war was important and why Australia went to war was important, but Ern is still anti-war,” says Kim.</p> <p>“He thinks war makes no sense.” Ern remains close to her heart - Kim last visited Ern in Geelong last September.</p> <p>Today Ern lives alone. Lizzie visits most days and he keeps active tending oak trees in his garden. Most of his mates from the war have gone.</p> <p>Allan died in 1985, aged 67. Eric died in 1999, aged 80. Edna May, Ern’s wife of more than 60 years, in 2004. She was 81.</p> <p>Ern was so grateful for the treatment she received at Melbourne’s St Vincent’s Hospital that he sold his land and donated $300,000 towards buying an echocardiograph machine.</p> <p>“I keep saying to him that he has to get to 100,” says Lizzie. He is now the last surviving Rat of Tobruk in Geelong.</p> <p>When I handed the cap back to Ern in Canberra, he paused before handing it over to Nelson.</p> <p>I thought Ern was about to say what I was thinking – that it was more than a cap, that it is a symbol of the courageous people who fought against tyranny, a reminder of the debt owed to those who gave their lives to protect our freedoms. But no – to the delight of all present, Ern broke into the Australian Football League anthem, ‘Up There Cazaly’.</p> <p><strong><em>Up there Cazaly</em></strong></p> <p><strong><em>In there and fight</em></strong></p> <p><strong><em>Out there and at ’em</em></strong></p> <p><strong><em>Show ’em your might</em></strong></p> <p>Later he turned to me and said, “What a wonderful day it is.” Then a joyful expression spread across his face and he let out an uproarious laugh.</p> <p>The khaki partizanka cap that started life in the hands of a young Croatian resistance fighter and was gifted in friendship to an Australian POW escapee is now carefully preserved in the Second World War Galleries of the Australian War Memorial in Canberra.</p> <p><strong>History of the Partisan cap</strong></p> <p>The military side cap, or forage cap, that Boris Puks gave to Ernest Brough in 1944 was part of the Yugoslav Partisan uniform.</p> <p>It was called the triglavka in Slovenian and the partizanka in Croatian.</p> <p>The design was copied from the cap worn by Republican faction soldiers during the Spanish Civil War.</p> <p>A feature of the Yugoslav Partisan cap was the red communist star on the front.</p> <p>The first Yugoslav caps were made in 1941 in Zagreb for the communist People's Liberation Front of Croatia.</p> <p>In occupied Yugoslavia during World War II, this cap's use spread quickly throughout the Partisan resistance.</p> <p>The Slovenian triglavka, adopted in 1942, had a three-pronged ridge along its crown, representing Triglav mountain, Slovenia's highest peak. Puks's cap is a partizanka, so it has a flatter crown and a folded brim at the back.</p> <p>In 1943, the partizanka and the triglavka were replaced by the titovka, or Tito cap, which was named after the Yugoslav communist resistance leader, Josip Broz Tito, and modelled on the Soviet army cap, the pilotka.</p> <p>After the war, the titovka became the official headwear of the Yugoslav People's Army, or JNA.</p> <p><em>Written by Marc McEvoy. This article first appeared in </em><a href="http://www.readersdigest.com.au/true-stories-lifestyle/wwii-diggers-great-escape?items_per_page=All"><em>Reader’s Digest</em>.</a><em> For more of what you love from the world’s best-loved magazine, </em><a href="http://readersdigest.innovations.com.au/c/readersdigestemailsubscribe?utm_source=over60&amp;utm_medium=articles&amp;utm_campaign=RDSUB&amp;keycode=WRA93V"><em>here’s our best subscription offer.</em></a> </p> <p><img style="width: 100px !important; height: 100px !important;" src="https://oversixtydev.blob.core.windows.net/media/7820640/1.png" alt="" data-udi="umb://media/f30947086c8e47b89cb076eb5bb9b3e2" /></p>

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Jacinda Ardern's heartwarming moment as she praises 95-year-old war veteran

<p>The Christchurch terrorist attacks in New Zealand have left the world reeling. New Zealand Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern has been praised worldwide for the way she has handled the attacks.</p> <p>The spotlight of praise has turned to the people of New Zealand, more specifically a 95-year-old World War II veteran named John Sato.</p> <p>The photo below sent shockwaves worldwide as Sato was seen attending a rally in Auckland on March 24 in support of the Muslim community. In the photo, Mr Sato is seen walking with a member of the police force and another member of the public.</p> <p><img style="width: 500px; height: 281.25px;" src="https://oversixtydev.blob.core.windows.net/media/7825660/old-man-nz.jpg" alt="" data-udi="umb://media/efaaaa674996400ca4d10cc2afb5ba4d" /></p> <p>It’s reported that Mr Sato took four buses in order to show his support and the New Zealand Prime Minister couldn’t be more thankful for it.</p> <blockquote style="background: #FFF; border: 0; border-radius: 3px; box-shadow: 0 0 1px 0 rgba(0,0,0,0.5),0 1px 10px 0 rgba(0,0,0,0.15); margin: 1px; max-width: 540px; min-width: 326px; padding: 0; width: calc(100% - 2px);" class="instagram-media" data-instgrm-captioned="" data-instgrm-permalink="https://www.instagram.com/p/Bv5fgjvFdit/?utm_source=ig_embed&amp;utm_medium=loading" data-instgrm-version="12"> <div style="padding: 16px;"> <div style="display: flex; flex-direction: row; align-items: center;"> <div style="background-color: #f4f4f4; border-radius: 50%; flex-grow: 0; height: 40px; margin-right: 14px; width: 40px;"></div> <div style="display: flex; flex-direction: column; flex-grow: 1; justify-content: center;"> <div style="background-color: #f4f4f4; border-radius: 4px; flex-grow: 0; height: 14px; margin-bottom: 6px; width: 100px;"></div> <div style="background-color: #f4f4f4; border-radius: 4px; flex-grow: 0; height: 14px; width: 60px;"></div> </div> </div> <div style="padding: 19% 0;"></div> <div style="display: block; height: 50px; margin: 0 auto 12px; width: 50px;"></div> <div style="padding-top: 8px;"> <div style="color: #3897f0; font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: 550; line-height: 18px;">View this post on Instagram</div> </div> <p style="margin: 8px 0 0 0; padding: 0 4px;"><a style="color: #000; font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none; word-wrap: break-word;" rel="noopener" href="https://www.instagram.com/p/Bv5fgjvFdit/?utm_source=ig_embed&amp;utm_medium=loading" target="_blank">It’s hard to write something that does 95 year old John Sato justice, so I’ll use the words he shared after recently taking four buses to get to a rally and show support for the Muslim Community. This is what he had to say "I stayed awake quite a lot of the night. I didn't sleep too well ever since. I thought it was so sad. You can feel the suffering of other people..... I think it's such a tragedy, and yet it has the other side. It has brought people together, no matter what their race or anything. People suddenly realised we're all one. We care for each other." Thank you John. Your actions warmed the hearts of so many during a time of such sadness.</a></p> <p style="color: #c9c8cd; font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px; margin-bottom: 0; margin-top: 8px; overflow: hidden; padding: 8px 0 7px; text-align: center; text-overflow: ellipsis; white-space: nowrap;">A post shared by <a style="color: #c9c8cd; font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px;" rel="noopener" href="https://www.instagram.com/jacindaardern/?utm_source=ig_embed&amp;utm_medium=loading" target="_blank"> Jacinda Ardern</a> (@jacindaardern) on Apr 5, 2019 at 8:03pm PDT</p> </div> </blockquote> <p>Ardern shared some specific quotes from Sato on Instagram, explaining how he felt after the attacks.</p> <p>“I stayed awake quite a lot of the night. I didn’t sleep too well ever since. I thought it was so sad,” Sato explained.</p> <p>“You can feel the suffering of other people… it has brought people together, no matter what their race or anything. People suddenly realised we’re all one. We care for each other.”</p> <p>Ardern ended the Instagram post saying, “Thank you John. Your actions warmed the hearts of so many during a time of such sadness.”</p> <p>Had you seen this photo before? Let us know in the comments.</p>

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The remarkable true story of WWII hero Eric Batchelor

<p><em>The Ferret</em> is the true story of a remarkable yet humble man, Eric Batchelor, from the South Canterbury town of Waimate who became one of New Zealand's highest decorated soldiers of World War II. Through his stealthy and deadly night time operations against the Germans he was secretly dubbed The Ferret by his commanding officers. It was a name he never heard until well after the war. </p> <p>I interviewed Eric several times during the years as I worked as a journalist in Timaru, usually in the lead up to Anzac Day or some other military commemoration.</p> <p>Sitting in his homely kitchen he shared stories of his exploits during World War II in his quietly spoken manner. He was always frank with detailed accounts of battles as well as his personal experiences and recollections away from the front lines. He went into details of combat, death and survival few other returned soldiers were willing or able to do. </p> <p>He joined, and eventually led, a platoon of young South Islanders with a similar background. Several were from the West Coast and had spent their teenage years stalking elusive red deer through some of the most rugged terrain in New Zealand or hunting tahr in the high grassland tops. </p> <p>They had become excellent marksmen with a rifle and self-reliant bushmen capable of living rough for extended periods. Moving soundlessly through rough country, finding their way in the dark and in wild, cold weather had become second nature to them long before the army turned them into soldiers. It had been the best possible training for infantrymen who were sent out at night after a much more dangerous quarry during the Italian Campaign of World War Two.</p> <p>By the end of the war in 1945 Eric had been awarded the prestigious Distinguished Conduct Medal twice for his actions on night patrols against enemy positions, the only soldier from the Southern Hemisphere to do so. He was also mention in dispatches for similar actions. His bravery decorations were second only to Captain Charles Upham who was twice awarded the Victoria Cross.      </p> <p>I have drawn extensively on the outstanding official history of Eric’s 23 Battalion by Angus Ross to ensure the chronology of battles and the history of the war in North Africa and Italy, where Eric served, were accurate. However, this biography is not another history of 23 Battalion but the true story of one of the men who served in the battalion, who survived the war and returned to his hometown of Waimate in South Canterbury where he continued to serve his community both in the military, in business and in many volunteer organisations for the rest of his long life. Eric Batchelor died in July 2010 just a month shy of his 90th birthday.</p> <p>One of the sad threads running through his story was the transition from excitable young men in their late teens and early twenties at the start of the war into hardened old men in their mid-twenties when it was all over. At the beginning some of their pranks and adventures were typical of over exuberant school boys pushing the boundaries of discipline and acceptable behaviour as boys always have. Those still alive four years later had seen and done things beyond the comprehension of people who have never served in the front lines of a world war. Their personalities, attitudes and empathy had irreversibly changed. Nightmares disturbed their sleep, the sounds of gun fire, terrifying closeness of violent death and the screams of dying men never left their memories. Many had difficulty readjusting to a non-violent, non-aggressive role civilian life. Eric was one who made that adjustment, with initial difficulty, and spent the rest of his life in his beloved Waimate.            </p> <p>He was, rightfully, considered to be a local hero, earning the title Waimate Warrior which became the title of a bagpipe tune composed in his honour.  </p> <p><img width="181" height="234" src="https://oversixtydev.blob.core.windows.net/media/7817714/1_181x234.jpg" alt="1 (126)" style="float: right;"/></p> <p><strong>Read an excerpt of the book below:</strong></p> <p><em>March 1944 in Cassino, Italy.</em></p> <p>Keeping the men fed was a continual and dangerous problem, sometimes more dangerous than the nightly patrols which were sent out to probe the enemy defences.</p> <p>“At night, runners would bring food up for us, but their jeeps could only go so far. I think they probably had a worse job than we did as they had to move through enemy-occupied territory. Sometimes the Germans would only be a few feet away in the next house, occasionally in the next room! Under the old hotel that we had got into was a German tank right underneath us and every night he’d start his motor to charge up his batteries.”</p> <p>To ease the boredom, and gather the ever-important information on enemy deployments, more patrols were sent out and occasionally ran into each other in the darkness. At this time Eric and five others had taken up lodgings in what had been a big bakers oven underneath a large hotel. From here they had a good view of enemy movements to and from their positions in the rubble.</p> <p>Eric often went out on his own relying on his stealth and hunting skills to avoid getting into trouble. It was dangerous activity and several men had been shot and killed by equally stealthy German snipers, but it was better than sitting around waiting for the next shell or mortar bomb to arrive. </p> <p>“I went out one day to see what I could find around the old post office and a German sniper had a go at me.” These marksmen, armed with a special rifle and telescopic sights, rarely missed, and had killed a lot of New Zealanders, but the bullet meant for Eric went wide and missed.  "Then they put in what we called a stonk, a massed bombardment, down on me. They must have thought attack was on, or the German who fired at me got the wind and got a bit excited.”</p> <p>These close calls had become almost commonplace as the deadly cat and mouse games among the rubble saw many men from both sides killed or wounded, but Eric was fast becoming recognised as an expert with better survival skills than most. </p> <p>Some of the Germans had established mortar positions hidden away in the ruins, and could bring down bombs on advancing British infantry without their location being seen, but Eric managed to locate one. </p> <p>"They had been firing for a day or two and it was annoying me that I couldn’t see where it was coming from so I went poking around and saw some smoke coming up from a cellar about sixty yards away. As luck would have it, a tank commander came up at that time looking for a target, so I said ‘come with me and have a look.’</p> <p>“He whipped his tank around the corner and put three or four shells into the cellar and headed off, and I got out of it pretty quickly.”</p> <p><em><strong>Tom O’Connor is a semi-retired journalist, historian, political commentator, author of several books, a Councillor for the Waimate District Council and the chair person for NZ Grey Power Association. The Ferret can be purchased at some local book stores or online at <span style="text-decoration: underline;"><a href="http://www.tomoconnor.co.nz/" target="_blank">www.tomoconnor.co.nz</a></span>.</strong></em></p> <p><em>Written by Kirsten Wilson.</em></p>

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The remarkable true story of how 4 Aussie soldiers escaped a prison train in WWII

<p>Here we were, four Australian soldiers, trudging along the edge of a railway track in the middle of the night, somewhere in the centre of northern Greece. We were all in high spirits for we had just escaped off a German prisoner-of-war train which had left Salonika some two hours earlier bound for Germany. Our escape from the train had been unpremeditated. However, from the time some 56 of us had found ourselves packed jam-tight into a cattle truck, we were sure there would be no way we would be willing to see out the expected eight-day journey to Germany in those conditions.</p> <p>There was absolutely no comfort in our situation, no seats to sit on, or even room where one could lie out flat. We either had to stand up or sit with our knees up under our chins, and as there was insufficient room for everyone to do the latter at the same time, everyone had to take turns at standing up. To make matters worse we were rotten with dysentery, which had plagued most of us from the first couple of weeks after we were taken prisoner on Crete some two months earlier — 31 May 1941, to be exact. We were also emaciated, lousy and unwashed, and altogether not a pretty sight.</p> <p>The cattle truck is a pretty common sight around Europe even today but during the war it was the sole means used by the Nazis for transporting millions of people to places they didn’t want to go. It is a rail box wagon about six metres long, three wide and two high. It has a sliding door on each side about 1.5 metres wide reaching from floor to ceiling. With the door closed the only ventilation inside was through two small openings about 50 centimetres wide and 35 centimetres high, placed high up under the roof at one end of each side wall and open to the elements. In our wagons these were crisscrossed with strands of barbed wire stapled to the outside of the wagon at about 10-centimetre intervals.</p> <p>In true German fashion it was planned to stop the train every hour and unload the prisoners a wagon at a time for us to attend to the calls of nature on the side of the track. But dysentery waits for no man, so, not long out of Salonika, one of the corners of the wagon was cleared for use as a toilet. In spite of this, and hampered by the darkness and the crush of bodies, people at the far end were often unable to make it in time. It is not hard to imagine the results.</p> <p>On the way back to the train after the first stop, and eyeing the window from the outside, someone said, ‘You know it would be pretty easy to escape from this bloody death-trap if we could only get out that window. Once out we could swing around the corner of the wagon onto the buffers and jump off from there.’ We all looked at each other but had our doubts.</p> <p>We got back into the wagon and started to discuss the possibilities. After a while we came to the conclusion that it was worth a try. If we got onto the buffers and waited for the train to slow down going up an incline before we jumped off, we could roll away in the darkness.</p> <p>First up we tried putting our hands through the wire while standing on the back of one of our mates, who was kneeling on the floor, and trying to lever the wire off the outside with our mess knives. However, neither our backs nor our equipment were up to the task and we soon had to abandon it. Then someone got the bright idea of lifting up one of our lightweights horizontally and getting him to kick the wire off with his army boots. We soon gave this a try and when it seemed to be a goer, decided to attack it in earnest after the next train stop which would be soon due. There were no guards on the outside of the train while travelling  (these were to come later). Our guards travelled in a passenger coach at the end of the train, the prevailing blackout conditions preventing them from looking out.</p> <p>Soon after the train was nicely on its way again we attacked the barbed wire with a vengeance. At first it seemed hopeless but slowly, gradually, it started to budge. After about 20 minutes and many changed shifts, one end of each wire had been freed and bent back out of the way. We were ready to go.</p> <p>It was obvious we would have to get through this small window feet first if we were to avoid doing ourselves an injury if we slipped. We soon worked out that the best way to do this was to stand with our back to the window and, while clinging to the shoulders of a couple of mates in front, have two others lift up our legs and feet from behind and feed them through the opening.</p> <p>Little Leo Barnden, who had had first go at kicking at the wire, was first to leave and was soon out of sight. I was about sixth in line, being preceded by Joe Plant, ‘Aussie’ Osborne, Noel Lumby and Reg Clarkson, all members of the same army platoon. Reg had agreed to wait for me on the buffers so we could get off together, in case we got separated from the others. Once outside, it was relatively easy for us to swing around the end of the wagon onto the buffers although it was pretty hairy making the leap as the train slowed down. Nevertheless we both got off safely — triumphant, if somewhat shaken.</p> <p>The arrangements were that once we were off the train we could walk back along the track until we met up with Leo, who would be waiting for us where he got off. We would then all head off east, moving by night and hiding by day, and eventually make our way into Turkey, which was a neutral country at that time. None of us had much of an idea of what was involved in this but, fired with the enthusiasm of escaping, we did not much care.</p> <p>Thus we found ourselves — Clarkson, Osborne, Lumby and Foster — picking our way along the track hoping to meet Barnden and Plant further ahead. It was incredibly dark and the going was difficult. As far as we could make out, it was open country with not a glimmer of light to be seen anywhere. We had been walking for 10 to 15 minutes and I figured we must be getting close to where Leo had got off the train, when ‘Aussie’ kicked something soft and heavy with his boot. He stopped, bent down, peered at it for some seconds in the darkness and finally picked it up.</p> <p>‘Bloody hell! It’s an Aussie army boot!’ he said, somewhat surprised. ‘A small one.’ And with a cry of anguish, ‘Gawd, it’s got a bloody foot in it. Leo must have slipped when he jumped and fallen between the rails and the wheels cut his foot off.’</p> <p>We stood still, straining to hear cries or moaning of any kind — stunned that our little mate could have come to such a tragic end — but all was quiet.</p> <p>Before we had a chance to organise there was a loud pained exclamation from ‘Aussie’. ‘Aw shit!’ he cried, and then started to laugh. ‘The bloody boot’s full of shit!’ and he proceeded to throw it away from him as hard as he could and rub his hands in the dirt as though to erase forever the thought of that horrible thing.</p> <p>It is easy to guess what had happened: someone on the train, caught in the grip of dysentery, had used his boot as a toilet and pushed it out the window. Four frightened soldiers breathed a great sigh of relief, collected their wits, and proceeded on their way. We never did find Leo or Joe that night. After walking another 20 minutes along the track we concluded they must have set off together eastwards on their own.</p> <p>Unfortunately none of us had any idea how far it was to Turkey or what type of country we would have to traverse before we got there. Of course we had no maps or compass. We set off in silence at a cracking pace, thinking that if we could put 15 to 20 miles between us and the railway before dawn, we would place ourselves out of harm’s way. We could then find some place to lie up during the day and continue our journey, moving by night. Food was going to be the problem, for we had only the meagre rations the Jerry had given us for the train journey, but we were confident we should be able to live off the land.</p> <p>This was all very well in theory, but unfortunately didn’t work out in practice. We had been captured nearly two months, were all rotten with dysentery and had been forced to work hard by our captors, on starvation rations, clearing the wrecked German transport planes and troop gliders which had crashed or been shot down on the Maleme aerodrome in Crete.</p> <p>After a couple of hours’ marching we began to tire. We must have been a good 10 miles from the railway. What initially had appeared to be flat country turned out to be quite undulating and crisscrossed with wadies or dried water courses. This had held up our progress so we were glad to call a halt and camp for the rest of the night.</p> <p>We slept fitfully and, cold and stiff, were relieved to see the arrival of dawn. As soon as it became light enough we began to look around and saw a group of houses, a village, a couple of miles away. ‘Let’s get closer,’ said Reg. ‘We might be able to scrounge something to eat before anyone gets about.’ We made our way closer to the village, keeping out of sight as best we could, until we were about 100 yards from the nearest house.</p> <p>We kept watch on the house and after a while a young man came out and hesitantly started to move in our direction. He stopped a short way off. We thought the game must have been up and decided to send someone out to meet him. Lumby agreed to do this, showed himself and went out. None of us could speak Greek, nor could the fellow speak English, so things were a bit difficult for a while. He could see from our uniforms that we were British (if not Australian) soldiers, and it was soon evident that his sympathies were with us. He motioned Lumby to go back and lay low, and he would bring us out some food and water. True to his word he appeared shortly with some farm bread, cheese, tomatoes and an array of vegies from their garden, the like of which we had not seen for months.</p> <p>Towards evening the young fellow came over with an older man, obviously his father, bringing us more food. The father seemed pleased enough to meet us, but showed his concern that we should not stay where we were, so close to the house, as they were afraid of reprisals from the Germans if they found us there. By gestures, they told us that they would take us, after dark, and hide us up in the hills, about a mile away. We would be able to stay there in a safe place until we recovered our strength and they would bring us food each night. As soon as it got dark they led us around the village and into the hills.</p> <p>We ended up at what looked to be just like a typical biblical sheepfold: a sheep yard fenced with a dry-stack rock wall, with a gate at one end and a little roofed shack for the shepherd at the other. It was an ideal hiding place for us, for we were well out of sight and had a good long-distance view if anyone tried to approach.</p> <p>The village people were peasant-type farmers and the kindest people one could ever wish to meet. Word gradually spread of our presence and before long they had organised themselves to take turns to deliver food to us on a nightly basis.</p> <p>One of the first things they wanted us to do was to shed our army uniforms and don civilian clothes and thus make ourselves less conspicuous if Germans happened to come our way. We kept our army pay books and identification discs. After we had been in the hut a few days, one evening at dusk we saw three men approaching up the track. We recognised Viachios but not the other two. Then we realised it was Joe Plant and Leo Barnden – they too were decked out in old civvy gear and had their hair dyed a dull jet black as they were both naturally blond-headed. Joe and Leo had been taken in hand by Greeks in another village. The local grapevine must have told their benefactors of our presence, so they’d brought them to join us.</p> <p>There were now six of us in the little hut: Leo Barnden, Reg Clarkson, Noel Lumby, ‘Aussie’ Osborne, Joe Plant and Norton Foster, all members of the same platoon of ‘B’ Company, 2nd/11th Battalion AIF.</p> <p><em>The group of six stayed in the area for some two months, assisting the villagers in raking up grain stubble and baling it. They were then taken to Salonika and escorted to a remote coastal area where British submarines made occasional visits to rescue escaped prisoners and stragglers from the Greek campaign. All six, who had enlisted at Northam, WA, in November 1939, were thus repatriated eventually to Australia.</em></p> <p><em>The Listening Post, Winter 1996 – Autumn 1997.</em></p> <p><em><strong>Norton Henry Foster</strong> was born in Melbourne on 7 August 1919, enlisted at Northam, WA, on 10 November 1939, was discharged with the rank of private in November 1945 and died 16 February 2004.</em></p> <p><em><strong>Noel Percival Lumby</strong> was born in West Maitland, NSW, on 20 April 1916, was discharged as a corporal in December 1945 and died 7 February 2010.</em></p> <p><em><strong>Reginald Thomas Clarkson</strong> was born in Dongara, WA, on 28 October 1917, was discharged as a private in September 1945 and died 17 January 1970.</em></p> <p><em><strong>Henry John Osborne</strong>, nicknamed ‘Aussie’, was born in Birmingham, England, on 30 September 1911, and was discharged as a corporal in September 1945.</em></p> <p><em><strong>Joseph Vernon Plant</strong> was born 7 May 1916 in Merredin, WA, was discharged as a lance corporal in September 1945 and died 4 September 1998.</em></p> <p><em><strong>Leo Edward Barnden</strong> was born 19 January 1918 in Geraldton, WA, was discharged as a private in August 1945 and died 17 October 2012.</em></p> <p><img width="178" height="273" src="https://oversixtydev.blob.core.windows.net/media/7816511/great-australian-world-war-ii-stories-cover_178x273.jpg" alt="Great -Australian -World -War -II-Stories ---cover" style="float: right;"/></p> <p><em><strong>This is an extract from </strong></em><strong>Great Australian World War II Stories</strong><em><strong> edited by John Gatfield and published by ABC Books.</strong></em></p> <p><em>Image credit: Australian War Memorial.</em></p>

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