Today we are gathered to remember, those before us who have served in time of war. I invite you to pause a moment, and reflect on those people in your family, your great grandfather or grandmother, husband, wife, Dad, Mum, uncle, aunt, brother, sister or cousin who has served in the Defence Force, be it the Navy, Army or Air Force. Perhaps they served in one of the World Wars, Korea, Vietnam, the Gulf Wars, Timor, the Sudan, Iraq or Afghanistan. I feel certain that every person here holds a family member in their memory who has served as part of the Australian Defence Force at some time.
I come from a family where the Navy is a tradition; sometimes I joke that I had no imagination when it came to my service. My grandfather, father, mother, great uncle, uncle, brother, cousin and I have all served in the Royal Australian Navy; my grandmother served as a nurse in the Army in World War II. My husband has just finished up as the Commanding Officer of a survey boat based in Cairns, and now works in Wollongong as a hydrographic surveyor. I worked as Logistics Officer; my job was to ensure that the ships I supported had everything they needed, from food, to fuel, to ammunition, uniforms, spare parts and money to pay for it all. I made sure there was a spot at the port we were destined for, and that it was secure. I routed the mail to our next destination and ensured that all the things we needed were there, ready and waiting.
Just under 3½ years ago I was still working in that role. I wore my uniform, and went to work each day to ensure that ships got to sea, and met their operational objective. I was on call 24/7, often fielding phone calls about getting critical spare parts all over the world, while cooking dinner for my young children. I had been sick, and made the decision that I couldn’t continue in the role. I had to leave, and find a new vocation. Luckily for me I had completed my Dip Ed a few years earlier, just in case. So, I handed in my security pass and my uniforms and sought employment as a teacher.
I am now an every day mother of two, who teaches seven and eight year olds how to read and add up. Some think my job is vastly different to that in the Navy, some can see the parallels.
My point is, veterans are everyday people. We are Mums, Dads, grandparents, aunts and uncles. We have families, and while we take pride in the work we have done we always want to return home to those we love.
When we learn about veterans we often think of old men, who fought in far off places. We discuss ANZAC biscuits and learn about Simpson and his donkey, or Teddy Sheean. What is easy to miss is that, while those men did amazingly courageous things and need to be kept alive in memory, there have been hundreds of thousands who also have worn the Australian uniform with pride. As I speak there are Australians assigned to 19 operations around the globe. These include in areas such as the Middle East and Africa, and closer to home undertaking border protection and flood assistance. The personnel assigned to these operations have left their families in order to ensure that Australians stay safe.
I remember when I first wore my uniform in public an old lady came up to me in Nowra and thanked me for my service. I felt really uncomfortable about this; I was about six weeks into my officer training at HMAS Creswell and all I had done was run long distances, go for swims in the cold water, and ensure my cabin didn’t have even one scrap of dust in it. I did not have full comprehension of what I represented to this lady, or the life that lay ahead for me.
Over my 12 years in the Navy I did some really cool things. I lived and worked in lots of locations around Australia including Sydney, Cairns, Melbourne, Perth, Brisbane and Darwin. I was assigned to Operation Flood Assist after the Brisbane Floods. However, my most notable achievement was to serve in the Middle East. I was assigned to the Afghanistan Campaign, earning me veteran status. My job was to support the Australian warship in the region. I had to ensure that the ship received its food, mail and spare parts. I organised RV points with American oil tankers in the middle of the Arabian Gulf. I was followed by the secret police in Jordan when I was carrying military spares. I was responsible for ensuring there were no explosives on the wharf before the ship came in. I spent six months including Christmas away from my family, and when I got back I was expected to slip back into my office job and carry on life as normal. I don’t tell you this to big note myself, I tell you this because to look at, I look like a year two teacher, who is a proud Mum and wife. I am that lady. I really enjoy my career change to being a teacher, but on ANZAC and Remembrance Day especially I do look back on my time in the Navy. We veterans are everywhere, hidden in plain sight, some of us are doing really well adapting to ‘life on the outside’, while unfortunately many others struggle. The suicide rate in the veteran community is so high that there is Royal Commission into it; we can only hope that it results in a dramatic reduction in these people feeling so desperate that they only see one way out.
When you see people in military uniforms, remember they have families, just like the people in your family who have served. We not only remember those whose lives were cut short, but their families who had to continue on with their loved one no longer at the dinner table, home for Christmas, and missing from everyday life. Veterans are not looking for glorification, or recognition. The simple act of saying thank you can change their day. But it is not only the veterans that deserve thanks. Behind every veteran is a Mum, Dad, husband, wife and often children who love and miss them.
So, on this ANZAC Day, when we pause to remember, remember those who lost their lives, but also remember those who gave up everything to serve. Remember those who are still doing it today, their families, and those who are trying to adapt to and adjust to civilian life, often while coping with physical or mental injury that will last them a lifetime. I was lucky; I only have physical scars; there are so many more who carry invisible pain. Adelaide O’Connor
