Cheers and tears
For Andrew Stackpool, the shores of Lake Burley Griffin in Canberra on August 14 showcased the nation’s thanks for the heroism and sacrifice of our World War II veterans.

 

The ADF helicopter formation comprising, left to right, Kiowa, Iroquois, Black Hawk and Chinook, carrying a vehicle.

The fiery trails of the dump and burn by two F-111s over Lake Burley Griffin was the climax of the Victory in the Pacific 60th Anniversary celebrations in Canberra.

A formation of several generations of Air Force fighter aircraft comprising, left to right, World War II-era historical aircraft P-40 Kittyhawk, Spitfire, P-51 Mustang, Korean era Meteor, and a current F/A-18.

A formation of three generations of RAAF bomber aircraft comprising, left to right, Hudson, Canberra and a current F-111.

Navy clearance divers prepare to demonstrate a vessel interception.

A World War II Catalina in wartime Black Cat colour scheme flies past.

The Roulettes show their aerobatic skills over Canberra as part of the national celebrations.

An Officer Cadet from RMC talks to an Air Force veteran during the day.

Photos by WOFF Steve Dent, WOFF Ray Bennell,LS Ollie Garside and Kevin Piggott..

WHEN, at 9.30am on August 15, 1945, Prime Minister Ben Chifley announced, “My fellow citizens, the war is over,” people poured into the streets, dancing and singing in an emotional outpouring of gratitude, joy and relief.

Those times and music were relived in the 60th anniversary celebrations for Victory in the Pacific (VP60) ,held on the shores of Lake Burley Griffin on a crisp winter August 14.

August 15, 1945, was a day for celebrations ending the long, bloody war with Japan. So, too, was August 14, 2005. Crowds of Canberrans and visitors cheered on about 3000 veterans and their relatives of that long and bloody war in an action-packed day.

Men, many fragile, some on crutches and canes, but all bright of eye, with uplifted chins and backs just that bit straighter, medals gleaming in the sun, were cheered by the masses as they themselves applauded the music and drill displays by the bands of the three Services, dance groups and others.

They all fell silent as The Ode was read and many a tear swelled at the memory of cobber, loved one and mate who never came back.

But the old men now were not alone. Mingling with them, swapping yarns and hearing their reminiscences were young men and women from the ADF, medal ribbons showing their common bond and status as veterans of today’s conflicts; East Timor, Afghanistan, Iraq.

Swelling the crowds who were there to pay them tribute were grey-headed men and women from Korea, Malaysia, Vietnam, including the Vietnam Veterans’ Motorcycle Club in their almost uniform-like black leather and colours, and south-east Asia.

Also mingling were other younger men and women, many in uniform. School cadets, too, perhaps improperly dressed in part uniforms, but wanting to “be there”.

The common threads among them all – a back-slap, a joke, a smile, laughter, tall tales, medals and ribbons, comradeship. A bond that, despite the age differences, only men and women who had “been there”, whenever, could truly comprehend, as Shakespeare may have written: “We gallant few, we noble band of brothers and sisters.”

Perhaps tempering the bonhomie among the vets themselves would have been the question, “Whatever happened to old ….?” A tinge of sadness if he had “gone across”.

Around the foreshores, static displays of the ADF’s might and firepower – APCs, choppers, the Air Force balloon providing tethered rides. Beautifully restored vintage military vehicles; lorries, Jeeps, a light tank and armoured cars, Bren gun carriers, amphibious DUKWs, a motorcycle and ambulances, manned by owners and drivers in period costume, next to recruiting and Defence information displays.

One man in period uniform displayed a superbly restored short 25-pound artillery piece, specially designed for service in the jungle war. His 86-year-old father, wearing his uniform, had manned the same gun with the 2/19th Artillery Regiment. Now he manned the gun again, with his son; perhaps for the last time.

“This gun has cost me a fortune,” he said. “But [pointing at his father], I’m doing it for him. This gun is part of our history and heritage, but he is living heritage, a living treasure.”

Most people to whom I spoke agreed or used the same adjectives. “It is wonderful to see all these veterans determined to be here despite the cold,” a squadron leader said. “They are living heritage and we may never see their likes again.”

“We must never forget what they did,” said a young soldier. “Like them, I joined to get an education, have a bit of adventure and do something. I wonder if in 60 years time they’ll have a celebration for me.”

Civilians said that they knew little of what these men and women had done as they did not believe it was taught properly in schools. “The schools must tell our kids,” one woman said. “I’ve told my kids what I know because my grandfather was there, but most just don’t know.”

Meanwhile, the veterans had nothing but praise for their successors. “They’re good kids,” said one. “Just like us.
They have the same spirit and sense of humour; they’re the same type of larrikin,” said another.

“They’re great,” said a third, “but they are so well trained, we never had the time.”

In the water, Navy clearance divers and Special Forces braved 3-degree temperatures to demonstrate their silent skills, while others parachuted down, fast-roped or jumped from low-flying choppers.

Throughout the day, the sky echoed to the roar of jet and snarl of internal combustion engine. Warbirds – a P-40 Kittyhawk, P-51 Mustang, Spitfire, Hudson, Tiger Moth; magnificently restored, some survivors themselves of the Japanese onslaught. Catalina, the venerable DC-3 Dakota, of Bully Beef resupply fame.

Korean-era Meteor and Vampire. From Vietnam, the Canberra bomber, Cessna 02 Dragonfly and Caribou, which still provides vital short haul logistic support today.

An AP-3C Orion, the Roulettes, thrilling the crowd with their precision skills, including the commemorative “Missing Man” formation.

Choppers, including the well-known thump of the Vietnam-era Iroquois, the Huey, and “dancing” Navy Squirrels.
Fast jets – F-111s with swept-backed wings, Hornets.

Flypasts, aerobatics and, for many vets, memories of desperate duels with kamikazes, Zeros and the might of the Imperial Japanese Air Force. Memories, too, for No.s 1, 2, 6, 75 and 76 Squadrons of dying soldiers, sinking ships and burning stores as they pounded invasion force after invasion force into so much scrap metal.

Generations of No. 75 Squadron men came together that weekend to share memories and compare notes of aircraft and aviation, decades apart.

At the very end, with the climaxing fireworks, two Pigs in a dump and burn, fast, low and aflame.

The Australian Federal Police estimated about 130,000 turned out; the organisers had predicted 30,000.
Many came for the sheer spectacle, many because it was “there” and many because they, too, had emotional links to those fading, dreadful days.

One may hope that as they headed home as the darkness and evening chill set in, that perhaps they paused a moment and thought.

The veterans? A reception at Old Parliament House on Saturday night, ecumenical church services and the final national commemorative ceremony at the Australian War Memorial, reunion dinners and drinks.

A farewell to mates who shared something bigger than we now may perhaps ever fully understand, even we who have experienced combat in more modern times.

For some, perhaps, a final farewell.

Canberra won’t celebrate VP61, at least with so much spectacle. But, how many of these heroes of 1941-45 will we see again?

How may we properly answer the little girl who asked, “Why did my Pop have to die?”

Lest we ever forget.

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