Author: Kev

THE filing of civil claims for shell shock by 1200 of the estimated 16,000 veterans of the East Timor peacekeeping operation has rung alarm bells in defence circles. And so it should. The high incidence of compensation claims for post-traumatic stress disorder from the East Timor operation has been attacked as disproportionate, particularly when compared with the stresses under which troops operate in the far more dangerous Iraqi and Afghan theatres. Someone needs to say it so it may as well be me. Undoubtedly there were bad days in Timor and I’ve been told of some, but the fact remains it was mostly a low level clash. Unkind of me to say this but yesterday when talking to my old forward scout I suggested that in one year 7RAR would have fired more rounds accidentally (Unauthourised discharges) in Vietnam than 5/7RAR fired in anger in Timor and lets not even mention the 1st and 2nd/7th battalions from WW1 and 2. I am on the side of the soldier, particularly the modern soldier, and I’m the last person to denigrate a man’s service but I am the first one to question spurious claims to get on the PTSD bandwagon. Vietnam veterans opened the gates on PTSD and the people who were in the forefront of the compensation claims rush were people least traumatised or least likely to be traumatised. Infantry, and other combat arms, may well be up the front in battle but are definitely down the back at parades and compensation claims. Cooks, bottle washers and crewman of a certain large Grey Funnel Line ship beat us hands down. Infantryman tired of hearing about trauma occassioned by hearing hand grenades exploding in the water to prevent VC divers mining a 22,000 ton metal bunker in Vung Tau harbour and eventually sort help. For some too late. I’m also a little confused about the ‘immediate’ effect of PTSD. I may have been traumatised when I returned from Vietnam but it took me 20 odd years to recognise or admit to the fact. Admittedly Vietnam Veteran’s Counselling services forced the issue and it is now a recognised condition whereas our forefathers, and initially Vietnam vets, suffered an unknown disability. It can now be diagnosed quicker but on demob? – I’m not convinced and research on the subject suggests time after the event is also a part of the definition. I’ve read that continual adrenalin overload eventually impacts on the brain and causes an chemical inbalance. The word ‘eventual’ has been the common denominator in my experience but then it does effect everyone differently and maybe I’m just being infantry-hard arsed about the matter. I’m of the opinion that there needs to be a benchmark. Whatever word-clever, life-experience-deficient lawyers might argue, if the soldier wasn’t in danger in his particular war; if he never went outside the wire; if he never experienced near death or life threatening circumstances; if he was never rocketed, bombed or shot at or never shot back; if he never did long patrols in enemy held territory or never had to deal with friend or foe body parts then what the hell has he got to be traumatised about? Six months without a home meal or a cuddle at night doesn’t, or shouldn’t, meet the benchmark. If there are any young readers left after this tirade, indeed if there ever were, then attack me in comments but get your facts right – been there…still there.

The Australian War Memorial has found rare film footage of Gallipoli. The 45 seconds of grainy shaky black and white 35mm film shows the only known moving pictures of the shoreline at Anzac Cove and of British soldiers massing at Suvla Bay.

Although Suvla Bay was a mainly a British operation there were Australians who died there. SIgnificantly, after suffering 8000 casualties on 9 and 10 August, the British occupied positions only marginally different from those held at daybreak on 7 August.

The more mature among my readers may remember the old tune Suvla Bay that was based on an older song, ‘An Old Australian Homestead’.

In an old Australian homestead, with roses round the door, A girl received a letter, ’twas a message from the war. With her mother’s arms around her she gave way to sobs and sighs, And as she read the letter, the tears fell from her eyes.

Chorus: Why do I weep, why do I pray? My love’s asleep so far away; He played his part that April day, And now he lies on Suvla Bay.

She joined a band of sisters underneath the cross of red, To do her noble duty to a lover who now lay dead. Many others came to woe her, but were sadly turned away, As she told them her sad story of her love on Suvla Bay.

I can remember my Mother singing the song in my youth when Gallipoli Veterans were in their 50s. Some were in their fifties but two of my Fathers uncles were forever in their 20s and still sleep at Gallipoli and France.

UPDATE:  Yesterdays link to the film was with West Australian News and doesn’t work for some. The AWM has now put up the film on their website.  The link above will take you there.