Regardless of Season, Weather or Terrain...

The 18th of August will always hold a special place in my heart… While the 6th Battalion may not have been my first posting or even the first unit I deployed with, it is most definitely the unit where I found my home and my family… And while like family we may fight occasionally and I may not get along with all my siblings… I am still fiercely protective of them and would do anything to ensure their welfare and safety.

So it was with great pride and more than a little apprehension that I attended yet another Long Tan Day this afternoon. You see, since I left the military I have struggled to find a memorial service that didn’t leave a bad taste in my mouth… and from speaking to my peers within the community I’ll tell you with confidence that I’m not alone. In fact if you are a veteran that is reading this you are probably nodding your head right now… 

You see, every service I have attended outside of my unit has been full of people that can’t get simple orders of ceremony right, can’t use any kind of technology and are speaking on subjects that they have zero experience in… Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure a 16 year old prefect can give a compelling speech on Mateship and the inspiration that should be taken from the ANZACS… but he hasn’t walked in the boots of a soldier or held his brother as he bled into foreign soil. It’s not that he means to be disrespectful its just that these things attract people who could never understand what it takes to do the job they are honouring. 

However as I stood today exposed in the Tasmanian weather, getting lashed by wind and cutting rain, I felt strangely at home… I looked to my left and right to see rough men, not in suits with umbrellas… but in Leathers & Beret’s standing tall, unflinching despite the weather. As the ceremony started I heard the names that have become so familiar to me over the years… 2Lt Gordon Sharp… L/Cpl Jack Jewry… Pte Richard A Aldersea… The crowd starts to settle and listen as the wind and rain seem to steadily increase with each of the 18 names of the brave men who paid the ultimate sacrifice for their mates. I look to the Cenotaph to the soldiers standing guard as the prayers and hymns commence. 

Religion isn’t something I’m friends with, yet I find comfort in the familiarity of the proceedings, I stand tall and let my mind drift to thoughts of times overseas with my brothers. As the laying of the reefs begin I glance across to see a certain Infantry RSM in full service dress… He sees me standing confidently with Misha between my feet, soaking wet and gives me a knowing smile, as if to say “how good is this shit”. I pull my shoulders back a touch more and lift my head higher into the rain amazed at the effect rank still has on me. 

As the laying of the wreaths wraps up, Dr Jon Lane steps up to the podium to address the small crowd that has braved the weather to stand watch over the proceedings. It would seem that the weather has kept away most of the pretenders (besides the politician who wouldn’t let any weather stop a PR spot and wouldn’t get off her phone… you know who you are). So the majority of the crowd are soldiers & veterans. And perhaps thats not a bad thing… who else could come close to truely appreciating what it took for 105 men to fight so valiantly against an estimated 2,500 members of the North Vietnamese and Vietcong forces? 

So as I stood soaking wet and freezing cold… I couldn’t have been prouder to stand tall and listen as Jon delivered the following message which is applicable to soldiers and veterans everywhere…

“Distinguished guests, ladies and gentlemen, and my fellow veterans. Thank you for the honour of being able to speak today. This is not just a platitude, this is something that I feel sincerely touched by, that I would be asked to speak to you here today.

This speech is about respect, and the debt of honour and respect we owe all those Veterans who served in Vietnam. We owe this respect for what they have done for us, and not just in the general terms of the fact that they were willing to lay down their lives in service of Australia. As a veteran of the more modern campaigns, I owe a duty of respect for what you Veterans have done for us more recent Veterans. Without you, and your battles both abroad and then when you came home, we would not have the services and supports we have now. Without the blood, sweat, and tears you all shed, and the fighting you have done, we would face similar situations to what you did when you came home. For this, I am truly grateful.

Back when I was a baggy arsed Digger, my unit was tasked to provide support for the opening of the Vietnam National Forces Memorial in October 1992. I’d been in for a few years by then because I’d joined at 17, so at the ripe old age of 20 I thought I’d seen a bit. In reality, I was so green you could have used me for astroturf. We were based out at the 250man camp at Majura, where accommodation had been set up for the Veterans visiting for the opening. We did the usual kitchen support, transport tasks, and so on, but it gave me the opportunity to meet, and get to know first-hand, some of the men who served there. It was an eye-opening experience for me, standing around a fire pit, hearing their stories over a beer or three. I was the same age, if not a bit older, than they were when they went. I remember going past a tent just after dawn, and seeing some old guy roll over in his stretcher, reach down to the tinnie beside him, take a long swig, and then drop it to the pile of empties around him, before going back to sleep. That was when the cost of this all came home to me.

I am about the same age as that old guy was then, right now. I have had my own journey overseas, my own experiences in a foreign land, wondering what the hell I was doing, and why. I have experienced my own time on operations in Afghanistan. I’ve heard explosions and gunfire, and seen the results of it. I’ve had to deal with the shattered remnants of what were supposed to be people, getting wheeled through the doors on their rickshaw gurneys. These sights, these sounds of those men and their agony, let alone the smell of burnt hair, flesh and blood, will likely stay with me until I die. I have also seen and dealt with the emotionally stressed, struggling, and often broken men and women there, and that is also something I will also never forget – trying to keep them together, so they could go back out and do it again. 

I might be a half-Colonel now, and a psychiatrist even, but in my office, and in my daily work, I see the battles that we keep on fighting, after we come home. I see the cost to those men and women who volunteered to serve, and who came home, often with far more baggage than when they left. I see the cost to those individuals, and to their families. I hear their struggles, and I feel their pain. I do what I can to help, and I am but one of many still fighting. Senator Lambie does the same for us in Parliament, as do the advocates and other members of our community, helping those of us struggling for recognition and support from DVA. 

This is why I talk about respect, and about that debt of honour that I owe, that we owe, those of you who served in Vietnam. Without the battles you fought when you got home, without the struggles you went through, I would have nothing now. There would be no VVCS, there would be even more limited support, and there would be nothing but a cold shoulder for those of us who served after you. That bloke on the stretcher would be me, now, but for the Grace of God, my family, and your efforts.

This is the glory of our story though, the strength of our bonds with each other. We might not all like each other, and we certainly don’t always agree, but come hell or high water, Veterans will be there to support each other. This is what I mean by the debt of honour, and the debt of respect, that I owe to all of you Veterans of the Vietnam era. That you stood up, did not go quietly into the night, and struggle with your demons alone. You fought, and you showed us how to keep on fighting, to get access to what we have now. Without your example, and your efforts, I would not be able to do my job. 

Without each other, we have nothing. This is what keeps me going, keeps me at my job – every Veteran I can help is one less man or woman that doesn’t have to keep needlessly fighting, keep struggling with those demons that keep stalking them. These are the battles we CAN win, and thanks to you all, the Grace of God, the support my family, and the strength of our community, I can keep fighting. From the depths of my heart, I thank you, and pay my honour and respects to you, the Veterans of Vietnam. Lest we forget.”

Dr Jon Lane  ~ 18 Aug 2017