Tag: wwii

Remembering, and Who Is Remembered

Today is Anzac Day. I have always felt some ambivalence about this day. As someone who abhors violence, war and nationalist rhetoric, I feel uneasy when it is framed as a great patriotic occasion. I do want to honour the fallen soldiers and the sacrifices they have made, especially as the impact of war extends beyond the military to families and communities. I am just not sure that Anzac Day, as it is often observed, is the best way to do this.

For too long it has been used to stir patriotic sentiment and, at times, to encourage young men to enlist. It is also a contested space when we consider who is, and who is not, included in the nation’s collective memory.

The sacrifices of women and Aboriginal servicemen have only relatively recently been recognised. While Aboriginal men were often among the first to enlist in the world wars, they had to overcome the colour bar, sometimes by denying their heritage. In the army, they were often accepted as equals. This changed upon their return to civilian life. During the war they could share a beer with their mates and eat at the same mess, but afterwards they were prohibited from setting foot in pubs or RSL clubs. Their contribution to the war effort went unrecognised for far too long.

It is against this background that I read reports of today’s Anzac Day ceremonies with dismay. I feel appalled, and deeply saddened, that white nationalists have attempted to hijack the day for their own purposes by booing Aboriginal elders as they Welcomed attendees to Country.

A Welcome to Country is a gesture of goodwill. It is an act of respect, inviting all of us to share in an ancient tradition of acknowledgement and belonging. Honouring Aboriginal service, and recognising the full truth of our shared history, is part of that same work. It is a necessary step towards reconciliation.

Lest we forget.

Lighthouse reflections

Some things are seriously worth waiting for. Like the Artist residency at Nobby’s beach, Newcastle. I was counting down the months, then the weeks until it was finally upon me. Five glorious days to spend on my memoir that has been sitting on a shelf for the past year, patiently waiting for me to come back and give my undivided attention.

There were eleven of us at the lighthouse. Some writers, some artists. Several had returned for the second time and were delighted to meet up with old friends. Two of us came from Canberra and, to my surprise, there was a large Melbourne contingent. One younger woman had grown up at the lighthouse as her father was the last signals operator before that job too became automated. We loved hearing stories about the people who lived there and the history of each of the rooms where we worked. For her, it was a chance to paint the lighthouse and its surrounds which had played such a significant part in her early life.

There is something magical about lighthouses. They are often metaphors for safe passage, guidance, and protection. They offer illumination for the dark nights of the soul and are a beacon of hope. In a port city like Newcastle, this lighthouse has the important function of guiding vessels into the harbour and up the Hunter River.

Before I arrived, the lighthouse became the beacon guiding me to cross the finish line of the year with a sense of achievement. It didn’t disappoint. I found it easy to get into flow and felt focused for hours on end. Many of us met at 12.30 for lunch in the common room, enjoyed each other’s company, and went back with a fresh burst of energy for the afternoon session. By the end of the week, I cut 21 000 words from my manuscript. I consider it a boon for my future readers. The engagement with the work has also rekindled my enthusiasm for the project.

The knowledge that Nobby’s lighthouse is one of the oldest operational lighthouses in the country made it feel like a workplace rather than some anachronistic holiday destination. I felt connected to both its current significance and its historical legacy.

Back in 1854, it first guided commercial shipping and 88 years later, it became important for military operations during WWII. The three small cottages erected on the site and these were used by defence staff during the war. An unexploded shell fired from a Japanese submarine damaged one of them.

Various lighthouse staff occupied the cottages after the war until the late 1990s. Lighthouse Arts, which is an initiative of the Hunter Writers’ Centre, now uses these cottages to hold exhibitions and offer artists and writers a space to create.

The area where the lighthouse is located is now known as Nobbys-Whibayganba headland. So finally, there is recognition of the Traditional Custodians, the Awabakal people and their deep cultural connection to the land, saltwater and the Dreaming.

I am grateful I could nurture my calling on this spiritually laden Country. It gave me much needed clarity and purpose. As such, I am already planning my next sojourn.

If you feel you would benefit from having a week to commit to your creative project, apply at https://hunterwriterscentre.org/2024/11/28/lighthouse-arts-residencies/  

We may even meet each other there.