

On the Block

Rocks, Rabbits and Reptiles

Copyright Merv McRae, 1987

This Smashwords edition published by Samray Books, 2014

Samray Books can be contacted at ma_mcrae@bigpond.com

ISBN for this second edition: 9781311330901

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher.

First published by Merv McRae, 1987

with ISBN 0 7316 01327

Soldier Settlement

Mt. Fyans, Stokies, Terrinallum, Barnie Bolac, Jellalabad, Myrngrong, Geddes', Morrison's, Terrinallum West Estates and not least North Station.

Compiled by Merv McRae

On behalf of the above settlers

And God blessed them, and God said unto them, "Be fruitful and multiply, and replenish the earth and subdue it."

Genesis Chapter 1: Verse 11

.

Notes for this edition

The original edition was published by Merv McRae in 1987, with proceeds being donated to Legacy.

Publisher: The Sunnyland Press, Red Cliffs, Victoria. It is now out of print.

National Library of Australia, ISBN 0 7316 01327.

This new edition is missing the photographs that were included with the original.

Note that the occasional explanatory notes added to chapters are not by the original authors.

Notes for researchers: Some details of how the Settlement scheme can be found with the heading, 'Lot 11 Mount Fyans Estate' in Chapter 3.

Acknowledgements:

This is a list of those who put pen to paper, to make this book possible.

Austin, T. Badham, Greta. Badham, R. Banks, J. & M. Biggin, B. Biggin, Marj. Biggin, Rob. Blain, Mick. Blain, Marg. (nee Reichman.) Brewer, Doris. Buntine, L. & E. Burgess, T. Chambers, J. Cumming, E. & L. Creen, Ethel. Edmunds, J. Erwin, J. George, D. (nee Watson) Gill, Lena. Gladman, Joyce. Gleeson, W. & P. Gleghorn, Mary. Grant, L. & M. Gray, B. & J. Gray, D. & Y. Gray, R. & P. Grills, L.& L. Guthrie, L. M. Hamilton, A. & J. Hannah, J. Harding, Jean. Harrison, J. & E. Hebbard, E. & M. Hill, Iris. Inglis, Louise (nee McRae) Jackson, Joanne. Kennedy, F. Kidman, J. & J. Krepp, G. & A. Lade, D. L. & W. L. Lade, M. Lawson, Pauline, (nee Piper) Lavery, J. Luckock, Jean. Lyon, W. P. Lyon, Molly. Maconachie, G. R. Menzies, J. Monds, A. & M. Moroney, Iris. McRae, A. M. McRae, M. A. Muir, Freda. Murray, G. & N. Price, J. Proctor, G. & M. Rogash, Lorna. Robertson, J. Ritchie, N. Schafer, A. & M. Scott, T. & M. Sullivan, Bonnie (now Kennedy) Tonkin, A. Turner, Elsie, (now Christie) Walker, A. K. & L. J. Wentworth, M. & I. Wentworth, J. And Nance, Whelan, Gary. Williams (nee Rogash.)

Contents

'On the Block'

Introduction

Comment by Joanne Jackson

Local organisations

Mt. Fyans Estate

Stokies Estate

Barney Bolac Estate

Cloven Hills Estate

Terrinallum West Estate

2nd Portion of Terrinallum Estate

LOOK BACK AND LAUGH

Jellalabad Estate

Gedde's & Morrisons' Estate

Mryngrong

North Station

In Retrospect

## Chapter 1

On the Block

When we first gazed upon the block,

We suffered quite a culture shock,

Not much there but tussocks and rock,

And rabbits swarmed upon the block.

We built a fence to hold our stock,

(The rabbits had to take the knock.)

Quite soon we owned a thriving flock,

And lush green grass upon our block.

We built a hut upon our block,

With doors that never knew a lock,

And raised our kids upon the block,

Without advice from Doctor Spock.

And now that life's relentless clock,

Has made of us almost a crock,

Our hearts and minds are chock-a-block,

With happy memories of "the block."

Published by Merv McRae

Introduction

The purpose of this book is to record the early memories of Soldier Settlement, and the good and not so good times we had. With this in view, who better to do it than the people who lived it?

Mortlake Shire has many soldier settlers, this book covers those in the Darlington area. I think the majority of the settlers were in a similar position to myself.

After getting out of the army in 1945-46 we were left to our own devices and were a bit lost. That was when the settlement scheme came into being. It gave us some direction, and we were ready and willing to take up the challenge. I think we would all vote it a resounding success, although you will see by this book it was no pushover. The women worked beside their men, and we felt a bit like pioneers. We were given a living allowance, until we had an income; after all we had to eat. Many of us milked cows to survive, nearly all the trees you see now on the soldier settlement were planted by the settlers, as well as the improved pastures; there was very little improved pasture on the earlier settlements.

I am grateful for the marvellous help and enthusiastic response that was given by so many. I must thank the contributors and acknowledge the great assistance I received from Molly and Bill Lyon, Alice and John Robertson, Joanne Jackson, Doris Brewer, and not the least, Alison my wife. I also must thank Jill Parker and her merry band of girls in the computer room at Mortlake High School, as well as Mr. Howard Mills for the use of those computers which I will never understand.

I am responsible for the compiling and editing of this book, but am not responsible for the total accuracy of the authors who made this book possible.

Merv McRae

*

COMMENT BY JOANNE JACKSON

I appreciate Merv asking me to act on a committee to prepare this book, and also for asking me to contribute an article.

We were not Solder Settlers, but our farm, being part of Barnie Bolac estate, is surrounded by Settlement, and as a family we have been involved in Darlington RSL activities since 1951.

Settlement in the Darlington-Dundonnell area is of particular interest, in that an earlier attempt in 1923 at Closer Settlement and Migrant Land Settlement failed miserably. The blocks on Mount Violet estate were too small, liabilities too great, houses too dear, supervision lax, and in the case of ex-servicemen, a desire to recognize a debt of gratitude for war-service, resulted in many inexperienced and unsuited men being allocated blocks. The scheme was a disaster. A Royal Commission published in March 1933 included the Mount Violet settlement in its examinations. It concluded that the settlers themselves were not to blame for their failure.

The lesson was well-learned; the World War Two Soldier Settlement scheme stated that settlement should be undertaken only where economic prospects were reasonably sound, and holdings were of sufficient size to enable settlers to operate efficiently and earn a reasonable income. Importantly, applicants should satisfy a competent authority as to their eligibility, suitability and experience for farm work. The Commission also stated that adequate guidance and technical advice should be available to the settlers. That's the theory of it all - the practicality will be borne out through the stories told to us by Merv and his mates.

My first knowledge of the Soldier Settlement Commission was when a large part of the property on which I lived at Woorndoo was acquired for settlement. Although the seventeen blocks on "Bolac Plains: and "Connabar" are not included in this book, historically it would seem appropriate to make some mention, as similar circumstances applied elsewhere.

In 1948 the Federal Government offered a pegged price of twelve dollars a dry sheep area. At the time of valuation, stocking rates on "Bolac Plains" and "Connabar" were low, as losses in the 1944 bushfires had not been fully replaced. Fourteen dollars per acre was offered and accepted. Soon after, the pegged price was lifted, and similar land was bought for fifty-six dollars per acre. The Commission sought large holdings for sub-division, and properties "occupied" by absentee owners. One of the immediate consequences was the break-up of many of the large fine-wool clips of the Victorian Western District.

Settlement in this area is now approaching forty years of age. The Mortlake Shire grew by some 248 families, schools expanded to accommodate the post-war baby boom, and every small township had its varied sporting teams. Today Ellerslie is the only rural primary school still open, and in many cases where settlers have decided to sell, their blocks have once again become part of the original property. Where the houses have been removed, the ubiquitous boobyalla (surely the emblem of Soldier Settlement) marks well the place, for posterity.

Explanatory notes:

boobyalla, a deep green tree that grows thick, is great for kids to climb, and is resistant to bushfires. A grouping of boobyallas can protect a house from being consumed by bushfires, (or so it is said.)

## Chapter 2

LOCAL ORGANISATIONS

Explanatory Notes:

The RSL is the Returned and Services League (of Australia.)

The SEC is the State Electricity Commission.

Dundonnell RSL:

The sub-branch was formed at a meeting held at Dundonnell on the 9th of January 1936. Those at the meeting were: - Messrs. Small, Williams, Alison, Fasham, Woods, Blomeley, Cooke, Harding, Warren, Doherty, W. Grant, G. Grant, with Smith, McDonald, Dayment, Milne, Jeffries, and Morrison joining later. J. Small was elected chairman and A. Doherty secretary-treasurer.

The branch was inaugurated at a Smoke Night on the 30th of February, 1936. Adjoining branches at Mortlake, Skipton, Terang, Lismore, Camperdown and Derrinallum were represented at this function.

In 1937, J. C. (Cliff) Smith was elected president, thus starting a long occupation of that office, broken during World War 11, when K. Alison was Chairman.

Prior to 1947, the sub-branch meetings were held alternately in the public halls at Pura Pura, Darlington and Dundonnell. Early in 1947, with the prospect of a dramatic increase in membership due to Soldier-settlement, the branch felt it needed a hall of its own. At that time Cliff Smith was president and Charles Luckock, secretary. These two men were energetic and tireless workers for the branch, and through their efforts they were able to purchase an ex-army hut from the war-time Darley Camp for 130 pounds, and have it moved to a block at Darlington donated by Charles Luckock, who also provided the trees to surround it. Many working-bees were needed to bring the building to the standards required by the authorities for a public hall. Money was raised for these improvements by holding gymkhanas organised by J. C. Smith and C. M. Luckock, with a great deal of assistance from Mrs. Luckock and Mrs. Smith. The entrance-porch was added later and long hours of voluntary work put the building in order. All in all, a great community effort. Existing members still make considerable contributions keeping the surrounds tidy. Over the years the clubrooms have been comfortably furnished, and the kitchen facilities modernised with the result that the local community finds the building very useful, particularly for smaller functions.

The membership grew to fifty-nine at its peak in the 1950s, and has slowly slipped in later years through death of members and others leaving the district. At present, a faithful few, with strong support from the Ladies' Auxiliary, keep the branch going – the annual smoke-night still being a popular outing well attended by members from neighbouring branches.

Anzac Day services are held locally each year, thus keeping before the general public the heritage preserved for us by our military forces and individual sacrifices made in so doing.

Support has been willingly given to all worth-while district causes. The welfare of disadvantaged ex-servicemen and women and their dependants, through the RSL's own institutions and organisations, such as Legacy, is given high priority, plus financial support where possible. The RSL can be proud of its district members.

Among the Office Bearers over the years were: -

Presidents: - J. Small, K. Alison, J. C. Smith, T. Muir, R. Smith, J. Robertson, G. Maconachie, G. Bishop, F. Kennedy.

Secretaries: - A. Doherty, C. M. Luckock, K. Broadbent, B. Sullivan, A. Monds, N. Watson, C. Creen, W. Cook.

Treasurers: - Mick Blain, Jack Edmunds, Col Green.

By G. R. Maconachie incorporating notes by J. Harrison and J. Robertson.

*

SOME OF THE MAIN ORGANISATIONS OF DARLINGTON

Country Womens Association

A branch of the Country Womens Association was founded at Dundonnell in 1938 and one at Darlington in 1948 – Both branches were well established by the time wives of Soldier Settlers started to arrive in the district and it wasn't very long before membership increased rapidly - we helped organise "Welcome to the District" evenings and afternoons to welcome the new settlers and offered to help where we could. Quite a number remained with our branches for many years as members. With the increase in membership we held many successful concerts and Arts and Craft Exhibitions. New members also brought along their various skills and shared them with us. Now with so many settlers moving away and retiring elsewhere, our membership in both branches has decreased rapidly – we look back and thank these ladies for sharing their times in the district with us.

Doris Brewer

*

RSL Ladies Auxiliary (Dundonnell)

The Auxiliary was founded about the time the first settlers arrived in the district. Membership rose rapidly and friendships were kindled. Meetings were held once a month and great assistance was given to the Sub-branch and to the furnishing of the Clubrooms. An Annual Ball was the highlight of the year when husbands and wives forgot about the daily chores and donned evening wear and danced away the hours in the gaily decorated Hall and feasted on a super supper prepared by the auxiliary. Anzac Day Service is always followed by morning tea and a chat – the Annual Smoke Night catered for by the auxiliary is well known for the meal provided, as is also the Annual luncheon when auxiliaries travel from as far away as Geelong \- Point Lonsdale and St. Leonards down to Apollo Bay in the south and Skipton and Rokewood in the north; the auxiliary now has a very small membership but the warmth and hospitality remains. This is evident at the Annual Christmas Party – this year 1986 – 60 people sat down to the Christmas meal – former members of the Sub-branch and the Auxiliary travel many miles to attend this reunion - we hope it will continue for many years to come.

Doris Brewer

*

Darlington and Dundonnell Cricket Clubs

The Darlington and Dundonnell Cricket Clubs were a little bit more fortunate in gaining players from among the ranks of the settlers than the Football Club.

Both clubs gained players that helped them to enjoy quite a bit of success over a number of years.

Although Dundonnell has ceased to exist as a club, Darlington is enjoying success with quite a few of the sons of settlers, also grandsons playing.

John Robertson

*

Darlington Football Club

The Darlington Football Club was re-formed after the war by the time the settlement commenced and it was a big rush by recruiting officers to be first to gain the signature of a prospective player. There were not many players to don the guernsey but a lot were very good supporters and officials, which helped the club to a very successful period of about five premierships over a number of years.

John Robertson

*

Darlington State School

The original Darlington State School No. 777, was built in 1865, of stone, however in 1946 it was replaced by a one-roomed timber building, following a tragedy at Coleraine where a similar building collapsed and a child was killed. The Education Department supplied the school building, necessary furniture and teachers. Everything else was left to parents and committee. Mothers' Club met every month and besides being a social outing, we were able to raise quite a lot of money as we always had a stall filled with jams, cakes and home-grown vegetables.

In 1955 a new and larger room was added, we were able to help with the sanding of the floor and staining.

Other items bought were coffee urn, pie heaters, projectors, heaters and playground equipment. It was rather sad that when the school was moved all these "Goodies" were lost to Darlington.

A small bus started by Mrs. Pilgrim (later Mrs. Gray) came out seven miles on a school run, this was a popular and much-loved bus and driver.

Later the Department supplied buses to Camperdown and Derinallum. So No. 777 has gone to Warrnambool and is used for S. E. A. L. in Hyland Street. The No. 777 is still on the building.

Molly Lyon

*

The Mount Fyans Telephone Exchange

There are so many things in life that are taken for granted, but when as we were, without any means of communication, the thought of a telephone loomed like a shining light.

Most of us, by that time, had small children, so the need for a phone was very real – we had been here for five years! However, after a period of applying several times to the GPO, the glorious day arrived, when we were eventually wired in. The GPO attached large two-piece phones to our walls, and there we were - in touch with the world!

Alice Robertson had the Exchange, and I am certain it was the best Exchange that ever existed – it was certainly the friendliest. There were definite hours when the Exchange was officially open, but if Alice was aware of any possible emergency, such as babies arriving, or anxiety about relatives, she would leave us plugged in.

I remember one very hot day when a fire broke out south of Merv McRae's. All the men dashed off with fire-fighting equipment, and we, the wives, were left gazing at masses of smoke. We were all anxious, so Alice plugged about five of us in, and as Alison McRae was the nearest to the fire, she was able to give us a running commentary.

There are so many instances of the kindness and thoughtfulness of Alice, and quite honestly, when the day arrived for us to be attached to the Mortlake Exchange, there was the feeling that we were losing a "togetherness."

To wind up the Exchange we had a terrific farewell party at Merv McRae's.

Molly Lyon

*

Life on the Block – Rabbits

When first we went to "Rocky," there were rabbits everywhere,

They moved in waves up barriers – no spaces anywhere,

They ate the grass, dug burrows, and not to be denied,

They mated during Winter, then in Spring, they multiplied.

There were rabbits there in millions, but we thought we'd wear them down,

When floods came in the Winter, some of them must surely drown;

Then sometimes we had rabbit drives when people came to stay,

We'd all bash tins and yell like mad. To then 'twas only play;

To us the game was serious – at times we'd almost weep;

Until those rabbits disappeared, we couldn't buy our sheep!

We bought some ferrets – smelly things! – but some of them got lost,

We dreamed of rabbits all night long as in our beds we tossed.

We tried to trap them; some were caught, but others got away,

We dug out rabbit burrows or warrens every day;

We tried to gas the devils, but an awful lot survived,

While letters from the Lands' Department regularly arrived,

"Get rid of all those rabbits, or you'll never get your lease."

The more we killed, the faster their numbers would increase.

We even ate those rabbits, baked or in a stew –

Rabbit pies and casseroles, and curried rabbits too.

Their skins were drying everywhere, and when we shopping went,

We sold them to a buyer, and then the cash we spent.

In time we bought some sheep, and then we bought some cows as well;

The rabbit numbers lessened – well, as far as we could tell!

Then finally, the "myxo" came; it spread both far and wide,

It was cruel, but efficient, and many rabbits died;

But later, they became immune to "myxo's" older strain,

So a new one was invented, and it started off again.

But then the Lands' Department brought "ten-eighty" on the scene,

We spread bags of poisoned carrots round where rabbits could be seen.

Though their population dwindled over twenty-seven years,

The memories of rabbits, and the blood and sweat and tears

Will stay with us forever, so until the day we die,

Don't offer us pet rabbits, lapin furs or rabbit pie!

By kind permission of Laurie M. Guthrie.

*

By G. A. And A. R. Machonachie

With my wife, Alison and our two young daughters, Kathrin and Elspeth, I arrived at "Bingarra" on the Darlington-Woorndoo Road on Saturday 1 February 1955 after a very hot, long, tiring day.

The convoy consisted of a car packed to the gunwales with necessities and other odds and ends. Next a furniture van with our household goods and a truck loaded with chooks, ducks, cats, dogs, pet lamb and numerous sundries bringing up the rear. I was most thankful to be able to refresh my live cargo at a convenient dam in the small village of Ross Bridge near Ararat, for the day was a "scorcher."

We had come from the Marnoo district in the South Wimmera, where my family had farmed for nearly 90 years. Alison's family had been there for a considerable time as well.

It was sheer chance that we found our nearest neighbours to be the McRaes. My mother had been a bridesmaid of Merv's mother at her wedding in the Donald district about 1911.

The farm we bought had been set up by Laurie and Nancy Borbidge, starting in 1949. It had been part of "Rockgrove" then owned by Mr. Peter Cotter and was a going concern when we moved in. Its development took place as large parts of the Western District were settled by ex-servicemen.

As we came to know our immediate neighbours and gradually those further away – a not very difficult process, as all were of a friendly and helpful disposition – it was interesting to meet with returned servicemen and women who had served in the different branches of our military forces all over the world during World War 11. In addition, they came from widely separated parts of Victoria and some interstate and overseas. It was possible to get a pretty fair idea of seasonal conditions and other farming matters over a wide area whenever we met at local functions or just for a yarn over a "cuppa." As I see it, this considerable mixing of different farming methods and ideas was one of the advantages of the scheme.

There were many tales told of the difficulties experienced by those setting up houses, building, fencing, water points, etc., as the district was transformed from larger holdings to a more closely settled district. Some will form part of the book of which these notes form a section.

Immediately after the war, rabbits were in plague proportions everywhere, giving stiff competition to more useful animals for the available feed. Peter Cotter told me of having no difficulty filling a horse-drawn dray with rabbits in a short afternoon from what later became one of our paddocks. Closer settlement, myxomatosis, superphosphate and cultivation worked wonders for the carrying capacity of the new farms and thus the prosperity of the whole area.

During the 30 years that we lived at Darlington, the various plantations, new buildings, alterations and additions to houses, better roads, SEC, school buses and other necessary amenities all started to become evident. Over that time, the face of the area has taken on a completely new look. Families increased in numbers, grew up in what can only be called prosperous times, with many now in widely separated places holding good and responsible jobs.

After a very happy time in the locality, with a few ups and downs, of course, and making many new friends, the time inevitably came for us to move into retirement. We now live in Warrnambool, our daughter Kathrin with two young daughters of her own living with her husband in Koroit, Elspeth, still single, teaching at Benalla High School at present.

I would like to end these observations with one further comment, and that includes a term which is well known to farming communities - hybrid vigour. Older people will also be familiar with the remark, "It was a horse and buggy marriage." Closer settlement after World War 11 brought together people who would never have met otherwise. If it is beneficial for animals to be cross-bred, as geneticists assure us, then surely it must help mankind as well.

Perhaps this can also be reckoned one of the advantages of throwing together people from distant parts as narrated in this book.

G. A. And A. R. Machonachie

## Chapter 3

Explanatory Notes:

1 mile = 1.6 kms, 100 yards = 0.09 km, 1 square mile = 640 acres = 259 hectares.

A chain is equivalent to 66 feet, or 20.12 meters.

CWA – Country Women's Association.

RAN – Royal Australian Navy.

SSC – Soldier Settlement Commission.

"MT. FYANS" ESTATE

Lot 1 A. Schafer, 571 acres

Lot 2 C. A. Price, 647 acres

Lot 3 C. W. H. Harding, 600 acres

Lot 4 T. P. Burgess, 627 acres

Lot 5 J. C. Harrison, 615 acres

Lot 6 J. H. Byron 885 acres

Lot 7 G. E. Lucas 884 acres

Lot 9 M. A. McRae, 580 acres

Lot 10 J. A. Chambers, 650 acres

Lot 11 W. P. G. Lyon, 625 acres

Lot 12 A. Monds 612 acres

Lot 13 L. M. Grant, 666 acres

Lot 14 J. A. Robertson, 643 acres

Lot 15 A. J. Hill 663 acres

Bert and Margaret Schafer.

Two children Kaeleen and Laurie.

Lot 1 Mount Fyans

I first worked in the Western District for Mr. Alex McKenzie in Hexham. I stayed in the district until I joined the army in 1940.

When I was discharged after five and a half years service I returned to the district and married Margaret Veal, eldest daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Sid Veal of Woorndoo. I worked for Mr. Reg. Strong in Woorndoo until I was allotted a block on Mount Fyans. I travelled to my block from Sid Veal's farm each week in a horse and cart, until the Commission put a small hut on my block, and with another hut which was already there, my wife and I, with our children Kaeleen and Laurie lived for eighteen months until our house was built. We had some unusual experiences while there.

One Saturday night after playing football at Darlington, I wasn't feeling too well when I arrived home, so decided not to milk our cow that night. However, at 1.00 am we were awakened by the cow bellowing at the door, so I got out of bed and milked her where she stood. After that, all I had to do was call her, and she would come to the hut to be milked.

After thirty years on the block we sold out, and retired to Mortlake. Like all settlers we had some good and some bad times, but made many good friends.

A point of interest is that when we are asked our occupation, our reply is a retired "gentleman" not a retired farmer. When the president of Mortlake Golf Club applied for a full liquor license, the judge informed him of this.

Both of our children live in Mortlake, Laurie, who works at Glenormiston Agricultural College, married Jill Murphy, and they have two children Christie and James. Kaeleen married Derek Sagnol who owns a garage in Mortlake; they have four children, Leanne, Mark, Jason and Kerrie. We are fortunate that all our grand-children live in Mortlake, as we see some of them every day after school, and they are of great assistance to both of us with the work around our home.

Before we retired we discussed where we would like to live, and decided on Mortlake. Some of the other settlers had the same idea, so our lives continued much the same as before, except that we didn't have to worry about the farm.

Bert and Margaret Schafer

*

Joe and Jocelyn Price

Three children Rodney, Melinda, Meggan

Lot 2 Mount Fyans

Joe Price came to the block on Mount Fyans in 1948. His first living quarters was a tent which he pitched in a plantation at the front of the block. The track he made from the Six Mile Lane to his property is now known as Prices Lane on the Shire map.

He lived in the tent until his brother-in-law had completed building the present shearer's hut which was his home until the house was completed early 1951. Joe's Chevy truck was handy to cart fencing materials from Mount Fyans for himself and other settlers in the area. Joe also milked cows for extra income. He put down a dam with the aid of draught horses.

When we married in 1959, Joe leased the block – Lot 6 – belonging to Frank Byron, on the understanding that the house was lived in at least three days each week. We decided to live there for the duration of the three year lease.

I was a greenhorn farmer's wife who could hardly cook. The fourth day after we moved in, we started shearing. If it hadn't been for the Hill and Lyon families, I don't know what would have happened. Alice Robertson was very helpful also. I did not have to worry about ordering things. I would get a friendly reminder on the phone, "Did I want bread?" etc. That would never happen in the city.

Only a couple of months after living there, the Darlington RSL gave Joe and I a social evening, where I met so many good people. I was given gifts, among them two buckets of roses from Bert Ellis's garden. Then there was the tin kettling that was unforgettable; they waited for the house to be in total darkness and then from no-where came the most deafening, unharmonious noise I have ever heard. They brought supper for everybody. I don't know how many were there, but there were certainly a lot.

Someone nailed some poor unfortunate gentleman's hat to the front verandah of the house, and some lad collected a small bucket of frogs and released them in the lounge-room to the consternation of the ladies.

We moved to my present home in early 1962. There are three children, Rodney, Melinda and Meggan. I had the pleasure of turning on our SEC power for the first time. Before that I had to come to terms with a temperamental generator. I guess I was lucky as I got to know everyone from Byron's block (Journeys End.)

I can recall two incidents that happened there. One was my first encounter with a snake which decided to pay me a visit which I did not appreciate. I immediately got on the phone to Alice Robby who was busy preparing lunch. I explained to her what had happened and she put me in touch with Molly Lyon, who gave emergency instructions; a pot of boiling water on the stove, and if the snake showed itself again I was to pour the hot water over the said snake from the kitchen window. In the meantime, Molly got in touch with George Lucas, who came with his eleven dogs to kill the snake, which escaped because George nearly shot one of the dogs.

The other incident was when I thought there was a prowler on the property. I was emptying the teapot onto the lemon-tree, when I heard what I thought was someone coughing. I shook so violently that the teapot flew through the air and landed in the cypress tree. I locked all the doors and windows and waited for Joe to arrive. I told him what happened. He went out to check and came back laughing, "I caught your prowler," he said, "A sheep with lung-worm."

Joe and Jocelyn Price

*

Charlie and Jean Harding

Three children Jeanettte, Ian, Craig

Lot 3, Mount Fyans

We arrived on our block in May 1948, very bleak it looked too All our bits and pieces, which didn't amount to much, were on the old ute. Our first home was a shed, later on to be the garage. We thought we had built it in a nice sheltered spot, until we had our first rain, when we found we couldn't get out the door, we were surrounded by water. Not to worry, we soon overcame that, along with many other mishaps. One thing for sure, we made lots of friends. Will we ever forget heating water in kero tins on the stove for the washing, and baths in the old tin tub in front of the stove? We are now retired and living in Mortlake.

Charlie and Jean Harding

*

Tom and Doreen Burgess

Two children John and Geoffrey

Lot 4 Mount Fyans

I had worked on a station at Lake Bolac previous to World War 11, and afterwards a mate and myself fenced Mt. Emu Estate at Linton for the Soldier Settlement Commission. It was there that I learned I had been allotted my last choice, No. 4 block on Mt. Fyans Estate. It turned out to be a big swamp, but with a lot of draining it made us a living. After being allotted this block of 627 acres, like most settlers I came down to build the garage, which was to be our home for over three years.

We came from Penshurst (50 miles away,) to take up residence. I had previously bought a wagon and two horses, which I drove down loaded with our possessions. My wife Doreen drove our motor vehicle, a Chrysler Four ute. We arrived in pouring rain in the dark, I cut a fence to get in and got bogged to the axles, so rather than carry beds etc., some distance in the heavy rain, we slept the night on two benches on the wall of the garage (about 18 inches wide.) That was the first time we had slept in a single bed.

After we had settled in, I made a sled out of a large forked limb of a sugargum tree, to put the posts out on the boundary line. One of the draught horses turned out to be a rank jib and when we decided to do this, he would stand for hours and nothing would shift him. I remember once, I had a load of posts out on the boundary, (he was fast teaching the other horse to do the same,) I suddenly thought that there is still one thing I haven't tried yet. I lit a fire under him. Anyway when he got hot enough, he took off like a rocket. The result was a heap of posts off the back of the wagon. Needless to say, the horse never jibbed again as long as I used horses.

My Father had given us an old Jersey cow who kept us in milk, cream, and butter, the catch was that the feed must have been better at the far end of a 730 acre paddock (about a mile and a half.) I got sick of walking the distance there and back to bring her home for milking, so thought I would try riding her, which was successful.

Looking back they were good days, and we made many good friends among the settlers. I would not have missed that period of my life for anything.

Tom and Doreen Burgess

*

Jack and Edith Harrison

Three children Jennifer, Brian, Neil

Lot 5, Mount Fyans

Our block was situated 7 miles east of Mortlake on the Hamilton Highway. I was notified on the 5th of March 1948 that I was the successful applicant for that block, and we moved there to live on the First of June 1948. I had built a house at Pura Pura in 1946. I applied for permission to move it to our block. In the last week of May, the house-movers, Browns from Ballarat, arrived to shift the house the twenty miles to the block. They reached the house site late one afternoon and as soon as the prime-mover left the road it became hopelessly bogged. Tom Kenna came with Peter Cotter's W. D. 40 Tractor and hooked on the front, but to no avail. The back of the house was still on the road, and there it had to stay for the night with a kerosene lantern the only warning. Next morning I got Jim Kenna with a cut-down army-tank to try to pull it in. That night was spent jammed under the telephone wires. George Stubbs and his gang of linesmen were out at daylight next morning - the trunks to Melbourne were out!

After four days of great tribulation we put the house down 44 yards from the road fence. It had rained heavily each night and the house sat surrounded by a sea of mud from churning vehicles. While it was great to have a house to live in, it involved a great deal of extra work, building chimneys, a wash-house, tank-stand etc., this at a time when we were trying to do some fencing as well.

The land, 615 acres, was fairly typical western plains basalt country, with some swamp and quite a few large crab-hole patches. It had quite a good covering of native pastures and plenty of big tussocks. I think it had been carrying ¾ of a dry sheep per acre. In November we stocked our farm with 300 five-year-old ewes and 250 two-year-old wethers, all merinos. They had to all run together, as there was only one watering point, from a neighbour's mill. In 1949 I spread 30 tons of superphosphate, together with one pound of sub-clover, and five pounds of rye-grass per acre. The results were amazing and encouraging to say the least. The first two years I shore the sheep myself with the blades. On looking back, I'm sure the sheep thrived better, and grew more wool when blade-shorn. They suffered hardly any stress at all. Our first clip was 17 bales, for which we obtained good prices.

The first three years were good seasons, and all seemed plain sailing, but 1952 was a very wet year, and that summer our sheep got a severe infestation of liver-fluke. We lost a good many sheep with the fluke and accompanying black-disease. Fortunately, a drench and vaccine were available and we had no further trouble with fluke after 1952.

In 1958 we had a plague of underground grass-caterpillars, and they "laid waste the land." In spite of having reserves of fodder, we had to buy in a lot. The only drought in our 29 years on "South Fyans," was in 1968, the rest of the seasons were fair to good. In 1960 we bought a paddock on the stones at Derrinallum, to shift our cows to in winter. They were needed to cope with surplus grass in the spring, but an embarrassment in winter when the ground became boggy. Our best wool-clip was 89 bales from 2900 sheep and lambs. After 1970 we gradually reduced sheep numbers and ran more cattle – a bit less work we thought.

Our children showed no inclination to stay on the land, and in 1977 we decided to sell out and retire to Mortlake, the hardest decision I ever had to make.

Many times people said to me, "Getting a block is like winning Tatts." Maybe it was, but there was a lot of hard slogging work went into making a successful farm, especially with little capital and almost no machinery.

It was equally hard for the settlers' wives, no SEC power for many years, no refrigeration or washing-machine. Some of the girls came from inter-state and some from overseas and it was lonely for them living on isolated farms.

I always remember the day before our second child was born. Edie helped in the shearing-shed all day while I was shearing, helped me bale the day's wool, and turned the grindstone for me to sharpen the blades for the next day. Then we milked our seven cows, separated and fed the calves. When we got to the house she said, "I'll have to go to the hospital tonight, I feel the baby coming."

On looking back, it was a great experience, coming onto our blocks, fifteen of us on Mount Fyans, all reasonably young, enthusiastic, with a great capacity for work, and a strong desire to be successful. The highlight each week was the Friday afternoon shopping trip to Mortlake. The town would be crowded with settlers, and the shops all very busy. It never seemed quite the same after the weekly stock-sales were abandoned. Social evenings at Darlington RSL were always enjoyed when our children were young. Tennis at McRae's was a social event for us for a number of years. Perhaps most of all we enjoyed watching our two boys play football for Mortlake. I have always been grateful for the opportunity to obtain land. It enabled us to give our children a reasonable education, and a good living for them and for ourselves.

Jack and Edith Harrison

*

Doris and George Lucas

Lot 7 Mt. Fyans

Doris and George, both now deceased, had a particularly hard time for their first three winters, as there was no road into their block. They had to drive their utility about two miles across Broadbent's paddock to the nearest road to do their shopping. When it was too wet, they walked from the road to their hut, carrying their shopping. They came from Gippsland, and were good, hard-working people. Doris helped George a lot, and could sort out the dags using broom and toe. George had a hearing problem; it developed over the years, and was intermittent.

They had no children.

Merv McRae

*

Merv and Alison McRae

Four children Peter, Marjorie, Aleck, Louise

Lot 9 Mt. Fyans

We moved onto our land 1st June, 1948. We had just returned from a holiday and were informed by letter that we had been allotted block 9 on Mount Fyans. Of course we were elated, although we hadn't seen the land. We made a trip up from Melbourne in our Oldsmobile to have a look. I wasn't impressed, there was no mount, and it looked ever so flat after living in the hills, and there were lots of tussocks.

We attended a meeting with all the other settlers later on, and were instructed to be on the block in six weeks. We stayed in the Darlington Pub for 10 days while I built a garage to live in; there were fifteen others doing the same thing, it was an exciting time meeting up with others. Not long before, we had seen the film "I Know Where I'm Going." It was about an island off Scotland named "Killoran." We then decided that would be the name of the property. We all went about our fencing; and building was a hassle.

As soon as I had a paddock ready, we had one trip home to the old family farm at St. Arnaud I would never forget. An Uncle had given me a heifer, so I put the trailer behind the '29 Oldsmobile and headed off. We didn't have kids, just a sheep-dog pup and an Australian terrier which we took along. The brothers on the old farm gave me two calves, as well as six chooks for our new farm. I got a halter on the big heifer and tied her to the front of the trailer, the frame on the trailer was only about three foot high, I didn't have much faith in the set-up at all. We headed off for home to our new farm with our first stock about midday. We had the six chooks in bags in the back as well as the two dogs. We took it quietly down through Avoca to Lexton then just through Lexton we came across a house stuck on a bridge, so we had to detour. We went away through the hills on tracks, it was slow going and the cattle were getting sick of the whole thing. It was then I noticed the big heifer had got the halter off, it could have jumped out of the trailer, I would never have recovered it in those timbered hills; the other two calves were lying down.

I was lucky to get the rope back on to the heifer. We got home to our farm that night in the dark. It had been a big day. The calves were as far away as they could get the next morning. I let the chooks out, at least they were a few meals for foxes. But the big white short-horn heifer was a top cow.

I bought some sheep at Caramut, together with Brian Sullivan and Bert Hill. We walked them home, camped them in the Hexham cemetery, then home the next day straight down the main street of Mortlake. I considered the block mine from the start, and didn't depend much on the Commission. I bought my own sheep and built my own woolshed. After the first shearing we ran a dance at our woolshed. We were a close-knit lot and used to visit each other, none of us being well off. We all had the same sort of dwelling, some better than others, some had dirt floors.

I foolishly thought the house would be there in six months, and only had an open fire for cooking and heating. It was chummy having a bath in a tub in front of a fire. Our house wasn't ready for three and a half years. Darlington-Dundonnell people gave us a welcome to the district in the Darlington Hall. Trevor Smith in his speech of welcome mentioned the settlers' almost total lack of progeny and suggested we should do something about it. I often brought this to mind in years to come when I put the rams in with the ewes. We did go forth and multiply over the years and were blessed with four healthy children. Our house was completed before our second child was born; we never did get official permission to occupy the house.

In 1952 we saw the high wool prices, 252 pence a pound for probably the worst wool I ever sold. In 1961 I bought 318 acres of Jellalabad to make my holding 898 acres, off that my biggest clip was 105 bales of wool.

When we moved into a small house in the town of Mortlake in 1983 I got ruthless with old records, which included the original records of the Dundonnell and District Tennis Association. I built a court on our place, and formed a club known as Darlington West. Other teams then in the Association were Dundonnell, Pura Pura, Woorndoo and Darlington. For several years Gordon Maconachie was president and I was secretary of the Association. The clubs competed for the T. O. Smith perpetual shield. We never did win the shield, but were once runner-up to Woorndoo.

Charlie Harding put on a niner to celebrate. We didn't empty it that night but had a great time. All this was great for getting to know others in the district. We also would meet up with others at football and our church. We all went shopping in Mortlake on Fridays and maybe to call for a short snort at the bottom pub to yarn with the other chaps, while the wives would look after the children, some quietly and some not. Being allotted a block was great, although to be a success required much hard work and was not like winning at Tatts at all. It took twenty-nine years of my life and was very rewarding, but everything passes.

We appreciated the hospitality extended to us by local residents, in particular the Sheppard family of "Talkook," who entertained us with many a tennis afternoon, followed by a meal and musical evening. Also the Jamiesons of "Stony Point," who kindly included us in the film evenings organised for their employees.

Now retired, living as Darby and Joan in Mortlake; four children' Peter, Marjorie, Aleck and Louise.

Merv and Alison McRae

*

TENNIS AT "KILLORAN"

We loved having the Darlington West tennis-club based at our court, although it did involve us in some extra tasks. It sometimes fell to my lot to line the court on Saturday mornings for the afternoon's play. The long-lasting tennis-court paint was not available at that time. We used powdered whiting procured from grocers, mixed with water to paste. The lines thus treated soon broke up under wear, and needed almost weekly re-touching. One Saturday morning I observed the lines were in need of attention, but we were out of whiting. I phoned Nicol and Barnes, the grocers in Mortlake, and asked for some whiting to be sent out on the mail-car. The polite lad who took my call said regretfully that there was no whiting. "Would schnapper do?" I explained that no variety of fish would so, and described the product required, and it duly arrived in time for the lines to be painted and dry ready for commencement of play. Afternoon-tea was no problem, all the ladies provided food and cups. All I had to do was boil the kettles and make the tea. One hot thirsty day, when afternoon-tea time came I found I had committed the unpardonable offence of running out of tea. Jean Ellis saved the day – and probably my neck – by dashing off to her home, and producing a packet from her pantry. Jean was always a tower of strength in organising afternoon-tea.

To entertain the crowd of children who attended with their parents, Merv constructed a sand-pit beside the court, and it often resembled an ant hill. It was good to see the little ones co-operating so well in that small area, with only an occasional land-rights dispute.

How we all enjoyed our tennis, and how earnest in our endeavours to win the coveted Trevor Smith shield! I recall Joanne Jackson referring to the competition players as "The Drama Group." She certainly had a point, as some people at times were as emotional as John McEnroe, hence the importance of having clearly-defined lines.

We had so many social tennis days also. One Sunday a group of us went to a tournament at "Ennerdale" after attending morning church at Darlington. I think it was coincidence that the minister that day delivered a sermon on the importance of observing the Sabbath. He made it clear that he and the Lord considered Sunday sport not quite the done thing. However, we were not deterred, and the moment the service was over, hastened to join the tennis players at "Ennerdale," stopping by the roadside along the way to eat a picnic lunch, and to change into tennis gear.

Our near neighbours, Dot and Sid Reichman often came over for a game in the long summer evenings, and there were times when we played on and on into the moonlight.

How I wish I still had such stamina, enthusiasm, and keen eye-sight. Ah yes, I remember it well...

Alison McRae

*

Brian and Bonnie Sullivan

Three children, Gerald, Anne, Margaret

Lot 10 Mount Fyans Estate

This is what I call a hard day's work – to sit and talk about old times is one thing, but to ask me to write a few lines on our life is the end. If Brian had been spared it would have been no trouble, as he was a writer, wrote lots of poems and stories while in the army. After Brian came home from the war, we took up a position at Greenhills Station at Minhamite, where we stayed a couple of years. While we were there it was announced returned soldiers could put their names down for a block of land, so Brian applied, and some time later was notified that he had been allocated Lot 10 on Mount Fyans.

Brian went down first, as each settler had to build some abode to live in until their houses were built, which was to be in six months, but turned out to be three and a half years instead. As Brian hadn't had much experience in building, one of our kind neighbours, Bert Hill, gave him a hand to build a small hut. Bert became a very special friend over the years, always there to help if one was in trouble. Anyway, something went wrong with the roof section of the hut they built, and it turned out looking like a church steeple. The water poured in down the tin chimney every time it rained - as the floor was only dirt, it got very damp. We washed our clothes in a kerosene tin, and rinsed them in the baby's bath. We lived on Weet-bix and rabbits for quite a while until things got better. I'm sure people find it hard to believe the way we lived in those days, it sounds more like the Dark Ages. When we moved there we already had one child, Gerald.

Our first task when we moved there was to buy sheep. Speaking of sheep, I remember Brian had a sheep-dog he wanted to sell. The dog, Kelly, was a devil for doing one thing wrong. So when the prospective buyer came to take a look at him Brian knew he would do the wrong thing and split the sheep. So when he rounded up the sheep, and was almost to the right point, Brian yelled to the dog, "Split them Kelly," and the dog did. The chap was very impressed to think a dog would do that when told. I often wonder what became of that dog.

I remember when we took our first load of wool to Geelong, we got as far as Darlington when the steering went on the truck; it ran right down to the edge of the creek and stopped – we were lucky it didn't tip into the creek. At one wool-sale we attended in Geelong a number of overseas buyers were there; I couldn't understand one word they were said. I felt it was a wasted trip. Out of one wool-cheque we were able to buy a small Singer sewing-machine, it is still going well.

When I was expecting my second child Anne, Brian was helping our neighbour, Bill Lyon, to do some shearing, so we had an arrangement. If I needed to go to hospital I had to hang a sheet on the clothes-line, as we had no phone at that time. This went on for some days, but the good Lord took care of that, as I didn't have to go to hospital until the day after they had finished shearing.

By the time Margaret was born two years later, we were in the house. It was like a palace after the hut, I had just given Anne her tea – she was sitting in her high-chair near the table which was set, with a kerosene lamp on the other end. I ran out to get some wood for the stove, and Anne pulled the cloth which tipped the lamp, setting her clothes on fire. Brian, with Gerald, had gone to the end of the lane to pick up the mail. I think I prayed more that night than I ever did, that Brian would hurry up, then the long trip to Mortlake. I thought she had died a few times. After a lot of attention from doctors, she survived.

After that we connected an old army phone up on the fence between our place and Bert Hill's, so we had some outside contact. Many a night we got on that army phone and would chat with Bert for hours. Every now and again we would take a trip to Mortlake to do our shopping – we would meet some of the other settlers and have a chat.

As time went on, things didn't seem to get any easier. Brian had been in the army for six years, and was finding it hard to cope with civilian life at times. Eventually he found he couldn't manage the farm any more, and regretfully gave it up. We moved to Moulamein, NSW, and worked under a boss on a couple of stations, where Brian later passed away.

I re-met an old family friend, Gordon Kennedy. We married, and are extremely happy, which I think is a happy ending to a story.

Bonnie Sullivan

*

John and Joan Chambers

Lot 10, Mt. Fyans Estate

We came eight years after the first settlers on Mt. Fyans, so missed the adventures and hardships of the earlier pioneers. Today as I pressed up what is to be my last bale of wool I thought about the thirty wool clips, the good and the bad prices, two big droughts and the "mean seasons," as George Lucas called them, when we were kept waiting for the autumn break. It occurred to me that because of deaths and retirement only Bill Lyon, Laurie Grant and John Robertson took off more than thirty clips.

We were shearing when Lot 10, Mt. Fyans Estate was re-advertised. Joan and I had two small children and were expecting a third. We were living on the family farm in Gippsland, which my father had purchased after returning from the war, fighting for Queen Victoria, against the Boers in South Africa. I had not previously put in for a soldier settlement farm. In October 1956 I drove down in the Ford Prefect and looked over the place with the help of Bill Lyon and Reg Grant.

Untouched since the Sullivans left, even the rocks were hidden in grass and clover, I had been told in Melbourne that because of my high points I would almost certainly get my block if I applied. So it was stay in Gippsland or move to Darlington; we decided to give it a go.

Joan and the kids didn't come until February or March 1957. I remembered there was a sheep sale at the old Darlington sale yards, we stopped for afternoon tea and Joan met the locals.

No tents or huts for us but we did miss the electricity which didn't come for about four years. The rabbits were pretty thick and I did a lot of trapping and fumigating before I was permitted to purchase sheep. I also tackled over three miles of subdivisional fencing. When Broadbent's block came on the market I bought 292 acres, and Don Kosch, who had taken over Frank Byrons', bought the other half.

And so we watched the seasons come and go until in 1978 Joan, Tim and Ian moved to Ballarat where Joan taught maths at Ballarat High and I began the constant travel through Derrinallum, and Cape Clear to our second home. In 1979 Joan entered Parliament as member for Ballarat South. Now with the farm leased I intend to buy a gold detector and my great grandchildren will be able to bring this book up to date with an account of my success.

John Chambers

*

Bill and Molly Lyon

Three children, Diana, Andrew, Judy

Lot 11, Mt. Fyans

Where am I going to commence? and what am I going to tell of our early days, on Mt. Fyans Solder Settlement?

It was an exciting adventure and rather an unnerving experience when I saw this part of the Western District for the first time. I had always thought the country would be rather like Bowral in NSW; beautiful trees, green valleys, and lush growth. However, I soon began to love the flat plain land which can be quite beautiful with its funny little volcanic mountains and strange gossamer fogs, the sun or moon rising out of stark earth, with not even a tree to frame them.

We, like all the Mt. Fyans settlers were among the first World War 11 settlers to come to the district. I feel that the powers that be, in Melbourne, used us as guinea pigs.

The surveyors had come here with little square wooden pegs and a map which had been nicely laid out in the city with our names on them, and hammered the pegs in the ground. They then sent us a small map with a sketch and numbers of our own block – Number 11.

All the settlers were to meet at Mr. Fyans woolshed, in early May. Everyone looked at each other and wondered who would be the neighbours – the only one I really remember was a man who came to the car and said what a lovely baby we had. He turned out to be Bert Hill.

There were several officials there, who told us when we could come and start on building something to live in, until our houses were built. I suppose it might have been slightly startling to find we had to do everything ourselves, rather like Robinson Crusoe, but I can't remember ever being worried, as I had always thought it would be fun to be like pioneers. Little did I realize just how much pioneering we had to cope with.

Incidentally, all settlements after ours had garages erected by the commission, where settlers lived in partial comfort and could certainly be sure of keeping dry. However, I am digressing.

Bill came down on the 9th June 1948 and put up our 10 feet by 12 feet tent, Diana and I came a week or so later. Our furniture in the tent consisted of a table across one end, one single bed with a very large feather mattress, numerous saucepans, a baby's bath, two folding stools, a kerosene lamp and a very small cupboard.

By the way, occasionally I would take Diana for a few days to Melbourne to stay with my mother, then Bill would sleep on the bed, we normally slept on the floor with Diana in style in her basket on the table. She also had a lovely cream pram, but that of course, had to live outside.

Cooking was really primitive, but we did have a very good primus, which proved its weight in "gold" in many ways. To air clothes, particularly nappies, we used to put a line up inside the tent, and hang clothes all about. We would turn the primus up full blast and it was amazing how quickly things dried.

Water was rather a problem, the spring ran very swiftly, but with the aid of kerosene tins, which acted as buckets, we managed very well. Our first cups of tea looked rather like stagnant pools as when boiled, the water had to be skimmed, so we realised something must be done. Bill acquired a 200 gallon tank, and with this wonderful possession, we used to cart rain water from the homestead, so all was well for drinking, cooking and washing baby clothes.

It was difficult to get timber at that period, as all building materials were in short supply, however, Bill carted red gum timber from his home district, so our hut was commenced. It was so exciting when we put the foundation down, and then came the uprights, and at last the roof and floors, we felt our home was almost complete. As building materials were hard to get it was some time before we had glass for the windows or ridging for the roof. I woke up one night to find rain flowing all over my side of the bed. I woke Bill and said, "I'm soaking," only to find he was as dry as a bone. The gap where the ridging should have been was allowing the rain from the west to pour over my side of the bed. It was rather hard to keep warm in the winter sometimes, however we had a good but perhaps dangerous way to dine in comfort! We put a rug over our small table, hanging down on two sides. We sat opposite with the primus turned fairly low, and a tin plate on top, in between our feet! Sounds ridiculous, but really was cosy!

Cooking on a primus or an open fire, had to be improved, so Bill found a house that was being demolished, and bought the stove for two pounds. We had this about ten yards from the hut – actually, we had the stove while we were still living in the tent and building the hut. We put three sheets of corrugated iron standing up around the stove with a smart chimney made up from an old piece of roofing iron. It was a marvellous stove, and I don't think I ever had a failure in cakes or biscuits, or anything really. It was a bit tricky lifting a roast dinner in the rain but we had inherited large black umbrellas from our fathers, so Bill would hold one up, if it was raining and I would march into the hut with the dinners.

By the way, we used the tent as a guest-room, and our friends from the city seemed to thoroughly enjoy this way of life, needless to say they usually came in dry weather!

It was a long time before we had a proper road – barely a track which was just mud in the winter and rather too much for our small Ford Prefect, so a tow-rope and tractor were often used. I remember one particular night when we had been invited to a dinner party, and later a dance near Ararat. The day dawned and with it gallons of rain. It seemed almost hopeless, with mud to the axles; however, we were determined to go so we put Diana in her basket on the back seat, and with shoes in hand, but wearing gum-boots and my long flowing evening dress hitched up around my waist, splashed through the mud and climbed into the seat behind the wheel. Bill with his dinner-suit covered by oil-skins, put the two-rope on to the tractor and away we slid across the paddock to the safety of the Dundonnell road, where we left the tractor, oil-skins, etc., until our return, about 5 am.

There are so many incidents we could write about. I have mentioned it was almost impossible to get glass for windows, so we led a very healthy life with lots of fresh air! I was awakened one night by very heavy breathing very close at hand. I reached out and switched on a torch very cautiously, only to gaze into two large brown eyes. We had some dairy cattle on agistment (which incidentally was against the rules) and one of these friendly cows had her head leaning over our bed, huffing at us.

We had five Khaki Campbell ducks which were a great help but they had to be followed and as there was no netting, they did a lot of walking, so if we wanted eggs, we just had to follow their tracks!

We had a possum which adopted us in the tent days, and later the hut, but after about a year, he or she came with a babe – both were tame and loved bread. We have since had other possums – lovely pets. One loved to drink sherry out of a glass!

This scatty epistle must finish some time, so there is no better time than now.

Molly Lyon

*

Lot 11 Mount Fyans Estate

Plans for a War Service Land Settlement scheme were outlined to the writer and other RAAF personnel, during a visit to the Desert Squadrons in Tunisia, in July 1943, by the then Minister for Reconstruction, Mr. J. F. Dedman, who assured those of us interested that a Land Settlement Scheme would be available at the end of hostilities. Moves were made to select properties, and by August 1945, forty-one western district properties were declared suitable.

The Soldier Settlement Act was passed in 1946, and soon after properties were acquired at controlled prices; later prices were de-controlled, and from 1951 onwards, were based on $18-$20 per sheep area. In Victoria, three commissioners were appointed to administer the scheme, Messrs Simpson, (chairman) Bond, Holmberg and Singleton the secretary. Under the Act, this was a joint Commonwealth – State Venture, funded with Commonwealth loan money, and run by the State, as agent for the Commonwealth and later on, a joint one-on-one basis, and in 1955 a special loan was made to the Victorian SSC to enable it to wind up the scheme, which was later to involve the Heytesbury scheme, and the name changed to the present Rural Finance Commission.

Regarding Mt. Fyans, the successful applicants were advised on 12th February 1948, and at a meeting at Mt. Fyans woolshed on 10th May 1948 the Commission advised of the immediate requirements. The settlers were to erect temporary accommodation, and start fencing, for which they would be paid $1.05 per chain. This, at that time, was the only income, and with stop-start fencing supplies, it was hard going for some. Rabbits were not a problem at that stage, but by 1950, appeared on our block in large numbers. Only ripping and myxomatosis controlled the situation and 1080 was not available at that stage.

The terms of tenure were as follows –

No rent payable in the first year of occupation, but Shire rates were payable by the settler on 1st December 1948. We were issued with a Temporary Lease effective for the period 15th March 1949 to 15th March 1950. This lease was then cancelled and a new lease issued, effective from 1st July 1949 to 30th June 1950.

We acquired stock after 1949, some from the Mt. Fyans flock and outside sources. Previous to the stock distribution, there was some friction, where a few settlers put stock on, and one fiery type threatened legal proceedings against the Commission to have the said Commission stock removed. The SSC were not demanding, regarding fencing, rabbit control, etc., as with later settlements, and we virtually did as we pleased; we were not required to contribute capital, and even after the big wool year of 1951, when the gross return would have more than paid off most blocks, only a token amount was required. On 1st July 1950, with one good wool cheque in, we were issued with a Settlement Interim Valuation and Lease. At that stage we knew approximately the final valuation, as each block was assessed, with write-offs from time to time as development increased. At that stage a settler could sum up the prospects, and walk away with no liability to either party.

The terms and conditions, while liberal, were rather restrictive; written permission was required for almost anything (not always complied with) and no share-farming, agistment or stock dealing permitted. Two settlers in the Balmoral area were put off their blocks for stock dealing in 1951.

Of some interest to present-day farmers, are the following figures for this block. Lot 11, Mt. Fyans, occupied for 38 years by the writer. Known as "Wonominta," it has the western arm of the reliable Mt. Fyans fresh-water-spring running down the centre, is of 625 acres and current value around $400 per acre. I believe the acquisition, under controlled price, was about $17 per acre, including stock, so on looking back, the previous owners had reason to be dissatisfied. Development has lifted the carrying capacity to four dry sheep per acre, and it is virtually drought-proof, through limited flood irrigation.

On 1st July 1950, a Settlement Interim Lease was issued, the interim valuation fixed at $10,026 which included fencing and shedding, dip and water-points, but not the house, which was not finished until December 1951. Rental $200 for one year. On 1st April 1952, a final valuation was issued, increasing the liability by $2,580, this included the house (cost approx. $6,000 to build) and $2,000 reimbursement for fencing materials purchased by the writer on the open market. On 1st February 1955, a Purchase Lease was issued, the terms being 2% interest and 1% principal over 55 years, providing no breaches of the above lease takes place. The final written-down value was $13,424, and after five years from date of Purchase Lease, could be paid off and made freehold.

A major change to conditions of tenure took place in 1955, with the passage of Soldier Settlement Commission Act 67 A. The fact that some settlers could no longer carry on, led the Commission to bring in the above, which permitted transfer of the title to Crown Grant; the fee was only $57, and this enabled a settler, with written permission, to live away from the block, and lease it to an outsider. The same terms and conditions for pay existed. With the low interest and capital repayments, it was a great help to retain a block. Of some interest to later settlers was a little-known meeting of settlers in Mortlake, in July 1951, and chaired by Commissioner Holmberg of the SSC, in response to complaints about shortages of materials when there appeared to be a plentiful supply available. The problems were explained by Commissioner Holmberg; the question of stop - start money flow; in view of the seemingly profitable operations of the various properties acquired, it was pointed out that under the SSC Act 1946, only loan monies were to be used, so the proceeds from wool cheques, stock sales, etc., were paid to consolidated revenue, so were lost to the SSC.

The other revelation (declared by the chairman to be off the record) was the pending issue of 270 Settlement Interim Leases; this committed the in-coming government to the Purchase Lease scheme, favoured by the government of the day and settlers generally. Most other states had Perpetual Lease. I can only say from this distance in time, that the Commissioners were proved to be right, as Victoria had by far the best scheme, and settled more than all other states combined, and at no ultimate cost to the tax-payer.

I have not dwelt on the domestic side of life over the 38 years on what I regard as the best square mile of grazing land in this part of Victoria and I will leave that to my wife, a city girl of a somewhat different background, who adapted to the rough conditions far better than many with a farming background.

No history of this block on Mt. Fyans would be complete without the snake stories. We shot them on our front step and the back step, and played hide and seek with them in the outside loo, they seemed to be everywhere in the early days. The tiger liked the house and sheds, and the big brown were in large numbers along the tussocks. I don't dislike the brown but was bitten by a tiger as a youngster and can't get used to them. I have had more than one big brown rear up and get jammed between the hot exhaust and the frame of my BSA Bantom, (forerunner to the Yamaha Ag. Bike,) I generally baled out and let the snake sort things out. Other embarrassments were when the tractor-operated rotary-hoe would drape part of a brown snake, mixed up with a thistle around my shoulder; when breaking down plowed ground, there was no quick method of baling out.

My share of space must be about full so I close with a tribute to all the good neighbours, particularly Alice and Timber Robertson, our close neighbour, and Reg Grant, now passed on, who was the station overseer on Mt. Fyans, and acted for the SSC in the same capacity. The Watson family of Darlington, who ran the mail and store, and was our life-line in the early stages, when notes were tied to a fence with requests that would be unfailingly delivered the next afternoon. There may be small errors in this article, time tends to distance things. However, I have referred to the thesis, "History of war Service land settlement 1945 – 1960" by Norma Vellacot for verification of some items, as well as having my own records, pre-settlement to the present, virtually intact.

Bill and Molly Lyon

Three children, Diana, Andrew, Judy

*

Alf and Muriel Monds

Two children Norma and Margaret

Lot 12 Mt. Fyans

Both coming from farming families, it was our ambition to some day have our own property. The chance came with Soldier Settlement. Applied for a block on Mt. Fyans and got it. In mid-June 1948, Alf and his father arrived on the block in our old Buick sedan with Lassie and a pup. The first few nights they spent camped under the stars in the plantation, in very frosty conditions, until they managed to build a tin hut on the west side of the block – the Commission's proposed site for the house.

Seeing we had two girls, aged four and two years, with conditions rather rough, I was unable to join Alf for awhile, until the Commission eventually gave us permission to live in a hut at Mt. Fyans homestead. Here we lived until such time as we could build our garage on the block, but first we had to get the Commission to agree to move our house site to the east side of the road behind the plantation. When this was granted, we built the garage with a lean-to and a tin shed which served as a bathroom-cum-wash house. And there we lived for the next four years or so. Neither of us had been to the Western District before and it was a shock to see the terrain of flat, sweeping plans with no natural trees, however, we soon got used to it.

First priority was to get the boundary fences up, when material was available. Later the rabbits became a problem and had to be eradicated. This was 12 months constant hard work with dogs (we had nine) and pick and shovel digging them out of burrows and crops of stones, etc.. And remember those rabbit drives everybody had?? Men, women and kids hunted rabbits. Worth noting, for the first six months or so we were there, we used to see deer cross our paddocks, usually towards evening. Brolgas were a constant sight also, especially down near the water.

With so many families coming to the Darlington area there had to be great impact in the district. A branch of the CWA was conceived, the RSL Women's Auxiliary was formed, the school was eventually upgraded and needed a resident teacher, the Mothers' Club membership increased, more parishioners to the local Church, and Sunday School eventually started. The Post Office business increased, a school bus took our children to Darlington School, then a bus to Camperdown High School, thanks to Jean Broadbent. We even had a branch of Camperdown High Mothers' Club at Darlington - the principal coming out to talk to us at our meetings.

Entertainment – Saturday night dances at Dundonnell, dances at Darlington, each organization having some sort of "Do" to raise funds. The RSL balls were a big attraction. The CWA staged some flower shows. Once we held a "Talent Quest." This was a grand evening - Darlington Hall was packed to capacity. Some very interesting local talent emerged. The voting was by penny vote – a certain lady who won the vocal section sang "Oh what a beautiful morning"??? Everytime I hear this song I think of that lady? Mick Watson's films in the local hall proved popular while they lasted.

Yes, there were many good times intermingled with the set-backs everyone experienced, but I think the greatest thrill was to move into our house, which we thought would never be finished. The first few days I did nothing but walk from room to room, taking in all the space there seemed to be. And to go into the bathroom and turn on the taps?

We were impressed by some business people in Mortlake – Golsworthy's especially did not hesitate to give us credit for household goods purchased. Guess they knew we wouldn't be running off the next week.

On looking back – Yes definitely it was all worth it – to have been part of the events that emerged in the district. It was hard work but a happy and interesting part of our lives. We found it very hard to leave the district when it was a necessity to do so.

Muriel & Alf Monds

*

Laurie and Marjorie Grant

Three children: Peter, Lynda and Gregory

Lot 13 Mt. Fyans

Lot 13 was allotted to me in February 1948 after serving four years in the RAN. I was working on Mt. Fyans pre-war, so I knew the area very well. In May 1948, John Robertson and I started constructing our boundary fences. Rabbits were a problem in the early days and many rabbit drives were held to try and get rid of them. I married Marjorie Small of Dundonnell in May 1952. We had three children: Peter, Lynda and Gregory.

Laurie and Marjorie Grant

*

Timber and Alice Robertson

Lot 14 Mt. Fyans, 643 acres.

Timber Robertson and a small part of his printable history,

Married a local girl, Alice Veal, produced three sons and one daughter, James, Shirley, Leslie and Kevin. Felt pretty elated, when notified of being allotted Lot 14 Mount Fyans. Found making ends meet pretty hard for a start, so did a bit of shearing on the side. Lived in a small cottage on the station for a while until the hut was built. Overall life was pretty good as there was always that glowing light at the end of the tunnel.

Timber and Alice Robertson

*

Bert Hill

Lot 15 Mt. Fyans.

I have been asked to mention a neighbour, Bert Hill, one of the first to set up camp on this section of Mt. Fyans, a bachelor in those days and now survived by his second wife Nell, with no issue to survive him.

Bert was established in a small group of pine, only a few hundred yards from our own house site and as an ex-contractor, his camp was a model. He had his dogs, a ute and plenty of ability and soon got going on the fencing, then number one priority, and it has been said that one could shoot a rifle along the tops of the posts.

Bert was a stockman of the old school, and an expert horsebreaker; in later years when he was no longer young, George Lucas, his close neighbour, now also passed on, watched as a horse went over backwards with Bert, and as the horse got up, Bert was already on.

While others have referred to George Lucas in these papers, it is only right to mention the close co-operation he and Bert worked with in joint effort on lambmarking, shearing, etc.. Both were good fencers, builders, mill-wrights, etc., and could handle almost any farm problem. Bert in particular was a perfectionist in almost everything he did, and being such, generally crossed swords with any outside labour, such as shearers, etc..

Bert was an orphan and brought up by a strict grandmother, and as a young man he battled it out in NSW as anything, from drover's boy to managing his own lease until the war. His second wife Nell lives in Warrnambool.

W. P. Lyon

## Chapter 4

Explanatory Notes:

CWA – Country Women's Association.

"STOKIES" ESTATE

Lot 1 S. R. Reichman, 738 Acres

Lot 2 A. R. T. Ellis, 698 acres

The late SYD & DOROTHY (DOT) REICHMAN

Lot 1 Stokies Estate.

Late of "NORCOMBE,"

as told by their daughter, Mrs. Margaret Blain.

Syd's earlier life was spent being brought up on his parents' farm "Noriel" at Ellerslie just outside the township of Mortlake, being the eldest in a family of ten.

On leaving school he assisted his father on the land, thus gaining experience in farming. At the age of 18 he volunteered for service with the AIF, in March 1941 and served with the 9th Division, second 23rd Battalion (Rats of Tobruk.) After his demobilisation from the service in 1945, Syd spent the next four years in Melbourne whilst awaiting allocation of Soldier Settlement Land in the Western District, now known as "Norcombe," which is now being farmed by his younger son Graeme, and elder daughter Margaret.

Syd met and married Dorothy in June 1946 and they settled on a small farm in Templestowe, Melbourne, which Syd managed, and later Syd was employed as a painter with A. V. Jennings Industries for a short time before taking up his Soldier Settlement farm of 740 acres in June 1949; by that time daughter Margaret and son Ian were born, Graeme and Denise were born later after the farm house was erected. On arrival on the farm there was only a hut on the land for sleeping quarters, then Syd erected a galvanised iron garage which was used as a makeshift kitchen, which consisted of an IXL Stove, a kerosene refrigerator and a Tilley Lamp. The laundering was done in a galvanised tub with the help of a scrub board. The boundary fences had to be erected before any stock could be bought. It was hard, having been used to all the modern conveniences; having two babies and having to exist this way made life even more difficult. These inconveniences had to be endured for 18 months when finally they shifted into their new house. They had some good and fruitful years ahead after a lot of hard work, but in January 1974, tragedy struck when our Mother died in tragic circumstances having been bitten by a tiger snake, and on 7th January 1987 we lost our father Syd.

Margaret

*

The Reichmans were great neighbours to have, they were always willing to help. Syd would be one of the most cheerful men one could come across, Dot was a great help to Syd on the farm, and a well loved person, who could put a first class roast on at the drop of a hat. It saddened the district when in 1974 she was bitten by a snake and died after suffering for a few days. They Syd also suffered for a few years before he died at a young age, January 1987.

Block 2 on Stokies was occupied by Bert and Jean Ellis; they are now retired and live in Queensland. Bert's pride and joy were his roses, he will also be remembered for his keen interest in fire prevention. He also built one of the biggest heaps of stones I have ever seen. Jean was an asset to Darlington CWA, and always put on a top class morning-tea when it was Bert's turn to mark lambs. Jean babysat our kids one night while we rushed in and had our last daughter.

The Broadbents just across the road had twins, Victoria and Tony. Keith died in the 60's and Jean the early 70's. They were both good neighbours.

A lot of Soldier Settlers who had returned from the other side somewhere, had seen all sorts of things that are not normal. I have wondered over the years just how much that has affected those men in the years that followed, without the company of the many mates that were made over those years.

Comment by Merv McRae

## Chapter 5

1950, BARNIE BOLAC ESTATE

Lot 1 W. J. Cook, 620 Acres

Lot 2 M. W. H. Goldsworthy, 640 Acres

Lot 3 E. J. Turner, 700 Acres

Lot 4 E. H. Hebbard, 700 Acres

Lot 5 F. R. Kennedy, 620 Acres

Lot 6 C. F. Green, 590 Acres

Explanatory Notes:

CWA – Country Women's Association

myxomatosis – a disease of rabbits, deliberately introduced.

A chain is equivalent to 66 feet, or 20.12 meters.

*

Eric and Elsie Turner

Lot 3 Barnie Bolac Estate

Eric grew up in Werribee, trained as a motor-mechanic there, joined the AIF July 1940, was discharged 1944, then worked on his uncle's farm at Foxhow. I too lived on a farm at Foxhow, and we were married there in 1947.

In April 1950, Eric was the successful applicant for Lot 3 on Barnie Bolac, his first choice. He came and lived in a bungalow at the homestead block, (Creen's) until the five other successful applicants came in July, and they all worked together erecting boundary fences, eradicating rabbits from the badly infested estate with rabbit-drives etcetera, using a horse and trailer for transport.

Many red deer were seen at this time, and it is thought they travelled daily from Terrinallum to Jellalabad.

Our garage was the first to be erected, and with our 1928 Chevrolet car, and trailer, and the loan of an uncle's truck, we moved on to our block, November 1950, no road and three miles in from the boundary with our son Ken aged nine months. That was to be our abode for two and a half years.

The three-chain-wide gravel road, dividing our property and originally intended to be the Hamilton Highway, until the new bridge was built at Darlington, wasn't formed until February 1953, and then it was due to the "push" of the then premier, Sir Henry Bolte, with a letter to the Soldier Settlement Commission. Our second child was then three months old.

Whilst living in the garage, we laid water-pipes above the ground from an already established windmill, and erected a shower in our bathroom-laundry. At about 5 pm in the summer, this served as a community hot shower, as well as being used in the cooler part of the day for the vegetable garden, ten rabbit-dogs and the few fowls we had brought with us. We had two water tanks for domestic use, a wood-stove, kerosene heater and lamp and a wood copper.

When the rabbits were eradicated, fences erected and settlers settled on their properties, we started with about 370 sheep for our first shearing, and went on to breed Polwarth sheep, first using a McDonald engine for power. We also milked 12 cows and sold cream to the factory, and later increased to 50 head of beef cattle. We removed stones from approximately one quarter of our property, and were able to grow our own cereal crops.

Prior to our road being formed, our only way out was through 11 gates towards Creen's at the homestead, one and a half hours to travel three miles. Being the wettest winter on record, we had to use chains on the car to get out, therefore going only when absolutely necessary.

Our home, built by Frank Seiver of Mortlake, was completed in July 1953, when we so gladly moved in. We carried on with the lighting from the garage followed by a home lighting plant until SEC power was connected in 1965. That necessity, the telephone, was installed in 1966. Recreation consisted of competitive tennis and CWA at Dundonnell. We attended the Presbyterian Church, firstly in the local hall until the new church was opened 24th May 1959.

Geoff was born in 1958. Our children attended the Dundonnell Primary School, which meant combining with neighbours to transport them four and a half miles each way daily, then on to Derrinallum High School, 21 miles by bus. The education standard was high and the success rate was excellent. Due to Eric's illness, Ken (now dec.) became the farmer, Jeanette was a library technician, and Geoff a motor mechanic.

Eric died of a stroke in 1971 and Ken carried on until he died accidentally in 1978.

Geoff came home to manage the farm, his mechanical training being a great asset.

I re-married a retired soldier-settler in 1983 and now live in Warrnambool, but still have my interest in the farm, and help Geoff when necessary.

We look back on the progress over the years, and the hardship, but Geoff and his wife Kerry, are quite happy to remain there and rear their children, Sharne and Glenn in the peace and serenity of the farm.

Eric Turner (dec.) and Elsie (now Christie.)

*

Ernie and Margaret Hebbard

Four children Ronald, Brian, Neil and Patrice

Lot 4 Barnie Bolac Estate

My late husband Ernie Hebbard, and family lived at Langi-Kal-Kal Estate, Trawalla. After missing out on a block there, Ernie applied for the position of manager on "Barnie Bolac," and on meeting Mr. A. B. Cumming outside Watson's store, got the job.

We all travelled up to Darlington in our Overland car; Ronald was six, Brian three, Neil was the baby at that time, 1948. Our car was packed with two young children and our belongings. The dogs were in a box on the running-board of the car. We had to leave my lamb till next trip.

We lived in a house on the property. We had no neighbours for miles, Mrs. Iris Hill, came to visit us, Neil had German measles at the time.

Ronald attended Darlington school, so I joined the Mothers' Club and we supplied the kids with hot soup in the winter. I also joined the CWA and met a lot more people.

Some nights we would go down to the creek and catch eels, which were delicious, skinned, cooked and eaten cold.

We walked for miles on the farm and had picnics. Later on a number of RSL members and their wives met at Mr. And Mrs. Ron Tregea's home and formed an RSL Ladies Auxiliary.

In 1950, "Barnie Bolac" was taken over by the Soldier Settlement Commission and Ernie was kept on to look after the sheep.

When we were allotted a block on "Barnie Bolac," Mr. Bryant of Mount Fyans allowed us to stay in one of his cottages until our hut was finished. We lived in that hut for three years, cooked on an open fire, (later a small wood stove) had to cart drinking water and used the hard bore water for other washing.

The men's first job was to pull down eight miles of stone wall. Neil said one night there was a pussy in his bed, but it was a rat from the stone wall. It had eaten holes in some soft toys that were on top of the wardrobe.

1950 we had Patrice, so for extra comfort we bought a hut made of cement sheet from the commission.

We all helped Ernie where we could, carting stones into heaps, drafting sheep, marking lambs, dipping, sweeping the floor in the woolshed, raking grass-hay, bringing the cows in, and the thousand jobs that have to be done on a farm.

It was a busy time with school, Cubs and Brownies, as well as rabbit drives where everyone helped.

We all helped Ernie plant trees, lambertianas, gums, wattle and cypress.

Mrs. Jackson presented me with a certificate from the Mother's Club for 15 years of service rendered and I still treasure it.

We moved into our new house in 1953. We had kerosene lamps, battery wireless, wood stove, chip heater and a copper, open fire in the lounge, plenty of wood and two rain water tanks on the house.

The phone was connected after Ernie supplied the poles across the paddock. We celebrated our 25th Wedding Anniversary at the house where many friends attended, it was a very good night.

We had our hard times and good times, as well as the accidents, and illness like everyone else. The farm was Ernie's life, but when he collapsed down the paddock, he decided he could not carry on.

We had 20 years of happy life at Darlington, and made a lot of friends who helped us when Ernie was in hospital. We will always be grateful for their help. The children are all married and three have their own children.

Margaret Hebbard

*

Mick Watson ran a picture show at Darlington Hall. It was a great thing for us and the kids at that time. Ernie and Bill Cook organised a soft drink and lollies stall for half-time. Thanks to Ernie who was the main instigator, a lot of money was raised for the RSL. But everything passes.

Editor

*

Frank and Emily Kennedy

Four children Bob, Frank, Allan and John

Lot 5 Barnie Bolac Estate

Frank Kennedy joined the army from Swan Hill at the age of 34 years. After training at Puckapunyal he became a bombardier in the 4th anti-tank regiment. In January 1942, his regiment was moved by ship to Singapore, and on 15th February, Singapore was taken over by the Japanese. From this date until the end of the war in August 1945, he was a prisoner, and saw much hardship and cruelty. The prisoners were used as slave labour to build the Burma railway, plus other roads and airfields. The appalling conditions and lack of medical supplies caused much disease, and the death-rate was high. Those who made it back to Australia considered themselves fortunate.

After returning home towards the end of 1945, Frank found it hard to settle, doing a variety of jobs around the Nyah West – Swan Hill area, including a partnership in a building project.

After a government sponsored farming course at the Dookie Agricultural College, he applied for a Soldier Settlement block. After three attempts he was allotted a block on the Barnie Bolac Estate, midway between Darlington and Dundonnell.

The six men allotted blocks on this estate were to arrive ahead of their families, so they could set up temporary living quarters.

It was June 1950 that Frank loaded up his 1926 Hudson utility and left Nyah West and headed for Darlington, but broke down midway between the two places. Repairs were carried out at Bridgewater and he arrived two days late at Barnie Bolac. On a return visit to Nyah West to sell his house and settle local affairs, he bought himself a 1944 lend-lease three-ton truck. This Chev Truck was a great asset in developing the farm, also the only mode of transport for the family for the next four years.

The temporary housing consisted of a steel garage approximately 20 feet X 12 feet. Kerosene was used for lighting and refrigeration, and there was a wood stove for cooking and heating. Rain-water from the one tank had to be rationed during dry periods.

Rabbits were in thousands on the estate, so no farming could take place until they were eliminated and boundary fences netted. In some places, boundary fences had to replace stone walls. This meant pulling down and spreading the stone walls by hand labour. Rabbits were caught by rabbit drives, digging out warrens, with dog packs, and by the spread of myxomatosis.

Until the farms became self-supporting, the Commission paid the men contract rates for fencing, and paid a rate about equal to the basic wage for other work in developing the farms. This income was supplemented by milking cows. The cream was sold to the Camperdown Butter Factory. The cows were hand-milked, and the separator also turned by hand.

After fencing was completed, the owners were allotted their first sheep. These were small flocks of three to four hundred. It was soon discovered they were infected by footrot. It took a lot of hard work to clear up the footrot and make the farm safe for further stock.

It was about two years before an all-weather road was made into this block. In the meantime we had to walk about one and a half miles to collect mail and other goods. The Watson brothers who ran the mail-service were much appreciated, as they not only delivered mail, but would take the cream to Camperdown, plus pick up and deliver anything the farmers needed.

The three bedroom weather-board house was not completed until late 1953. A 32 volt lighting-plant and bottled gas for cooking and running the refrigerator were very welcome after two and a half years of living in the garage.

From 1954 onwards, the farm was sub-divided into workable-sized paddocks. With the woolshed and stockyards built, a dam was sunk and water piped to all necessary places. This water system was later replaced by pumping water from a spring at the far-end of the farm serving all paddocks through to the house end of the property.

Pasture improvement was an important part of developing the farm to a stage when the dairy cows could be sold, and more sheep added to make wool the main income.

In 1956 the machinery shed and hay shed were erected. Frank purchased hay-making machinery so he could do his hay-making when the time was right for cutting and pressing, then he would go to the other farms contract-pressing to pay for his machinery.

Electricity came to the property in the early 1960's. By then a telephone was already connected, making social life more pleasant.

Frank was a very active member of the local RSL branch, selling raffle tickets and Remembrance Day poppies. He would do all he could to help RSL members in need.

He sold his farm to Barry Wickham in 1964, then purchased a property in Gippsland. He spent four and a half years clearing this farm, then sold out and retired back to Swan Hill.

Frank R. Kennedy passed away at Swan Hill in 1975, and his wife Emily died in October 1983. They are survived by four sons.

by Frank Kennedy (Junior)

*

Colin and Ethel Creen

Lot 6 Barnie Bolac Estate

It was Easter 1950 when we were notified of an allocation of a Soldier Settlement block on Barnie Bolac. It was the only block Colin had applied for and his first preference - it was like winning the lottery.

Several weeks later, the six settlers on the estate met for the first time, all from various parts of the state. We were to take over our blocks in July, so after selling our house at Anakie, and purchasing a single-seater Chrysler we set off for Darlington to make our fortune. Loaded to the roof, a toddler of eighteen months and one cat, (which we never saw again) we at last arrived at our destination. It was dark, wet and windy, but fortunately the settlers who were camping on the site had lit the stove, so at least it was warm and the kettle boiling – what a lovely sight on such a bleak night!

The following day it was raining, but things never look quite so bad in the daylight. There were many traumas awaiting us. The supervisor was trying to contact us to see if all the settlers had arrived – not being used to a phone previously, we did not know about this and that the engaged signal was due to crossed wires, until a very furious supervisor arrived from Mortlake the next day; he thought we were on the phone to all our relations at the Commission's expense! Things were soon righted, but not before we were told the phone was for "business only."

This estate, being declared rabbit-infested, meant that the settlers had to pull down existing stone walls and erect rabbit-proof boundary fences. There were miles of fencing and much hard work, and materials hard to come by, however, with grit, determination and long hours, the big boundary fence was completed, the task of exterminating the rabbits was the next big effort – 10,000 rabbits were poisoned and picked up. Numerous rabbit drives soon had the rabbit population diminishing.

It was three years before the settlers were able to buy sheep; prices were high by this time because of the demand. However, each man was on his own block, so it was up to each one to make a go of it.

We were lucky having the home block, so we did not experience the hard times other settlers had, living in a garage, un-made roads, having to leave their vehicles either at the home block or as close as they could to an outside road; winter was the worst as the cars would bog, and by this time too, families were increasing. It was a hard life, and this went on for such a long time, over three years before their houses were built.

With the community expanding, recreation was on the increase – tennis and cricket soon got going, and we used to have terrific dances and balls, which became an annual event for the tennis club. Pony clubs were another new venture, and by now school numbers had increased at Darlington and Dundonnell. We were all busy with school activities, as well as Brownies, Guides and Scouts. After many years, we had our farms greatly improved and showing a big transformation from early beginnings.

Age and ill-health started to take their toll, settlers sold their farms and retired, that was the pattern of things all around. A full cycle has turned, and after 36 years there are only two farms from six on Barnie Bolac that are being run by sons of settlers.

Altogether a very rewarding period of time and one that was good for a small district.

Ethel Creen

## Chapter 6

1949 CLOVEN HILLS ESTATE

Lot 3 T. L. Austin, 610 Acres.

Lot 4 R. A. Smith, 840 Acres

Explanatory notes:

A chain is equivalent to 66 feet, or 20.12 meters

TOM AUSTIN

Lot 3 Cloven Hills Estate

In my case I had applied for dozens of blocks as they were advertised, and finally my brother and myself together with Roy Smith obtained the three good blocks of between 800-900 acres on the northern part of "Cloven Hills." I was so excited I bought 500 Merino one-year wethers for 49 shillings before we were allowed to take possession and had to agist them at Mount Elephant. They cut five pounds and I sold them for seven pounds.

I arrived on the block with a horse to ride, a draught horse, and two whippets and a cocker spaniel – not much use for sheep work, but a legacy of my rabbiting days. My wheels consisted of a 1929 Buick utility, which, after a quick petrol warm-up, ran on kerosene.

Housing was the standard corrugated-iron garage on a concrete floor, a primus for cooking, but certainly no cooling, heating, or lighting facilities other than a hurricane lamp and later a Tilley. In those days no such luxury as a hot shower, but after a while an ice-box and then a kerosene refrigerator.

Two incidents I remember well – having decided to intall a 32 volt lighting plant, I purchased the 16 batteries and stored them under the bed. That night, having been for a couple in the "Elephant Breath" hotel, I returned to the garage, jumped into bed and when the spring mattress hit the batteries all hell broke loose – sparks, sizzle and a yell from me.

The other incident concerned my draught horse – on returning from a morning's fencing, I secured the horse and cart as usual and settled into some jugged hare for lunch. When I came out, there was no sign of the spring cart or draught horse. The cart is still in the gully below the house, shafts in the air for all to see, and over those thirty-seven years since it was deposited there, many noisy nesting magpies have been very grateful for it. The remarkable part of that episode was that my large black draught horse was never heard of again.

I wasn't sorry – just curious.

Tom Austin

*

EDNA (dec) AND ROY SMITH

Four children John, David, Lynette and Peter

"WANLOOKE"

Lot 4 "Cloven Hills" Estate

As I remember – the day 24th April 1950 – we drove onto our block with a feeling of excitement, for this day was what I looked forward to for many years.

My wife and I were in our very early thirties and looking forward to the challenge. Our first boy was just one year old, and like us was rearing to go.

The garage was adequate to live in for a short time, and we made the most of it until our house was ready, although the rats were a little troublesome at times. I remember being awakened one night with a whack over the face by my wife, Ed, in retaliation for the nip on the ear by a rat. However Ratty didn't get past the rabbit-trap I had set under the side of our garage-bedroom.

We used to have our bath in a tin bath we carried into the kitchen end of the garage, and one night whilst the lady of the "Castle" was enjoying her bath by the light of the Tilley lamp, I happened to be outside and noticed my big grey house standing head and neck in the kitchen door, and immediately said rather loudly, "Hello Don." You should have heard the scuttle and splashing of water. Don was my old settler friend from down the road.

I arranged to buy a sheep from Bob, another settler on the southern section of West Cloven Hills Settlement, so I drove down in the '29 Chev tourer, and on alighting from my vehicle, I saw a tractor coming up the muddy partly-made road, and to my amazement, this blue Fordson was yoked up to a jinker, and in the jinker sat a lady. As they got nearer I could hear the mud splashing as the tractor tyres slurped around, and to my delight my settler mate Beaty was squatted over the steering-wheel all covered up with stock coat and motor-cycle cap, and his dear wife Pat was sitting up in the gig putting on make-up in readiness for a car journey to town. I had to laugh, but felt at the time I shouldn't have, but I'm sure that if the lady reads this, she will smile and remember those days.

Those days were rather rough on all; the washing was done in small containers, and all water was carted four miles from Darlington in a 120 gallon tank on a large wagon, hauled by a tractor, and the temperature was 108 degrees day after day in the garage, but the kero fridge made ice-cream within 18 inches of the IXL wood-stove.

We loved to hear the cry of the curlews in the plantation of an evening, and often rode within half a chain of these beautiful sorrowful birds as they flattened themselves on the ground hoping they wouldn't be noticed.

I remember members of the Noorat Football Club piling into the big box-wagon, and I towed them away down to the back swamp to drive the thousands of rabbits. The rabbit-truck passed here every day loaded with rabbits.

I called my place "Wanlooke," because I took one look at it and said, "This will do me." We loved our farm, and over the years it developed nicely; our children grew and developed nicely also, and as I look back today and allow my thoughts to wander, my heart appears to swell and the tears win the battle.

Roy Smith

## Chapter 7

1953, TERRINALLUM WEST ESTATE

Lot 1 D. L. Lade, 610 Acres

Lot 2 B. C. Hart, 910 Acres

Lot 3 J. Egan, 595 Acres

Lot 4 T. A. Muir, 565 Acres

Lot 5 C. A. Trigg, 570 Acres

DAVID AND WINIFRED LADE

Lot 1 Terrinallum West Estate

The Lade Story! Pura Pura

In 1954 people said, "Pura Pura? Where's that?" And in 1986 they say the same! "Where's that?"

It was November 1954 when we were allotted a Soldier Settlement block. By that stage we had inspected blocks here, there and everywhere, and had enough plans to paper a house. Lot 1, "Terrinallum West," was to be Lade's future home! 610 acres!

In December we visited the block and met the other four settlers who were to be on the same estate – Triggs, Muirs, Egans and Harts. All had travelled from afar for this great occasion. Connie and Bill Whelan treated us to scones and tea. Bless them!

Settling-in began in March when the "boys" had to move in, supplying their own accommodation, a temporary measure while they erected the garages. With 200 miles to go, David set off in the old Dodge-converted-to-ute, plus a loaded trailer. Like a snail, he carried his home with him, a pre-fabricated hen-house, and a pre-fab toilet. All new material, thank you! These he erected near the gate in the corner of the block. The gate was a mile from the main road and was reached by a wandering track through "Terrinallum" property.

The site selected for the house and garage was half a mile further on, so a meandering track gradually took shape as rocks and swamps had to be avoided – and an occasional snake! By late April the garage , hereinafter, known as The Hut, was ready for the family to move in. So just before Anzac Day, David and our favourite cat arrived back at The Hut, with the ute and trailer again well loaded, and the van of furniture was close behind. Furniture from five rooms had to be squeezed into The Hut and leave room for four of us to live and move.

The two girls and I set out from my parents' home in Melbourne on Anzac Day. I had never driven such a distance, and this on a strange road, so I was not sure when we would reach our destination. The girls frequently asked the questions – "How much further? How much longer, Mum?" I had no answer!

When at last we saw those scattered huts, about a mile apart, it was to me a bleak and lonely sight, but the girls were very excited. We had left Melbourne in our summer frocks and arrived in Pura to be greeted by the cold misty rain. So the first thing to do was to don jodhpurs and jumpers over our dresses.

David was trying to re-arrange the furniture and boxes to make room for us to settle in. It took us several hours to be sufficiently organised to have a good meal and make up beds into which we gladly flopped. All was strange! We had moved from the bosom of the extended family to live among strangers, from a valley surrounded by mountains, to the wide western plains. Fortunately David's brother and family were on a block out of Mortlake. But hopes were high! Everyone told us that getting a Soldier Settlement block was "as good as winning Tatts." No-one mentioned the years of hard labour ahead! Miles of fencing to be erected to divide one paddock into three farms, plus sub-division fences, "millions of rabbits" to be eradicated - (we couldn't eat them all!) and let's not forget the rocks, rocks and more rocks to be moved. Our one and a half miles of stone walls were very attractive; the rabbits loved them!

We made the hut as comfortable as possible, using the kitchen-dresser, wardrobes and the organ as dividers. Later David added a bathroom-cum-laundry, and we acquired an ancient tin bath from another settler, who had by then, moved into his house.

The girls decided we must have curtains, as Mrs. Muir had curtains! Our very second-hand stove proved very efficient – I even burnt the top of a pudding on our second day! That's enthusiasm! Also on the second day the girls gathered mushrooms for breakfast.

The first letter to the home folks was headed "Pneumonia Lodge," Pura Pura.

Pam said, "Whacko! This is living like gypsies." So Rosemary named The Hut "Gypsy Cottage."

As time went on we added comforts to The Hut. With winter approaching, we lined part of the walls with hardboard, and put sisal-craft across the ceiling. This diverted the frost drips to the edges of the walls instead of drips on our beds. Cracks and joins were plugged with oddments to keep out at least some of the draughts. An old back-woodsman heater was installed to keep us warm.

Before the builders could come in, a road had to be put in from the main road, one mile from Trigg's corner, now sign-posted "Lade's Lane."

It was seven to eight months before a team of builders arrived to erect the wool-shed. Their outfit looked like a train coming down the new road – an old Bourke Street bus with a cookhouse trailer attached, an old tray truck, and several cars. They worked like beavers and had the woolshed and machinery shed finished in about a week.

About the same time, a gang moved in to excavate the dam, and a trio arrived to build the house. These three had a caravan, and I cooked their evening meal.

In about five to six weeks the house was almost finished. BUT it was another eight months before it was finished and the key was ours.

During that 16 months we had experienced a deep freeze, a five-day dense fog, a heat wave which reached 108 degrees F, and violent thunderstorms which started several fires in the Mortlake Shire. Being far from a phone proved quite a problem, especially on two occasions when the girls were ill. It was in the early 1960s before we had our phone on.

In August 1956 we moved into the house ahead of some very stormy weather which lasted three weeks!

By that time, boundary fences and some sub-divisions had been completed, farming had begun. Our original one horse and one cow had been joined by some sheep which had been on agistment until the fences were erected. Tree planting started before the buildings. David had been busy building sheepyards, and a dairy.

Soon after our arrival in 1954, we met other settlers and district folk, as all our children had to go to school, six miles from our place. The poor teachers had 10 to 12 children one day, and a great invasion within a week as "Trawalla South" settlers had arrived at about the same time. Soon there were over 30 children, and when a new teacher arrived I was asked to help as Sewing Mistress. This I did for a few years. The school became the district focal point with sports days and Christmas concerts being the highlights. Mothers' Club met regularly in private homes; as our houses were finished we took turns to host the meetings.

Over the years a community spirit developed and team efforts enabled the building of the Pura Pura Hall and the tennis courts beside it. Everyone will remember the Grand Opening Ball at the Hall, and the Annual Balls which followed. Money had been raised by a cattle agistment scheme. Protests about the shocking condition of the school led to a new one being built, with more space and better heating, a welcome change from the draughty building where grey military blankets had been used to reduce the draughts.

Secondary education was a problem until the Derrinallum High opened with forms one and two about 1962. Our girls were boarded in Camperdown for the seven years, before they went on to tertiary studies. So they were home only for weekends.

I taught at Darlington from 1958 to 1961 and at Derrinallum from 1968 to 1973. The Year 1986 would be the first year since Derrinallum High School opened that none of my ex-pupils have attended there. So it has been very interesting to see all those children grow up and move out into the world.

At Pura the Presbyterian minister held fortnightly services in the old school, then later in the Hall supper room. Much later, in 1961, the Church purchased a pre-fabricated ex-bank building and moved it to Pura, and this became the Presbyterian Church, and later the Uniting Church.

Sunday School, Youth Club and Ladies Guild and PWMU were part of the life of the Church members. David played the organ and I was involved in Sunday School, PWMU and Guild and the Youth Group.

From the beginning supplies were a problem as we were 20 miles from Derrinallum, 23 miles from Mortlake, and 30 miles from Camperdown, so we had to be well organised. Bread was delivered from Derrinallum two or three times a week. At first Mr. Hec Watson, and later Pat and Bill Templeton, were depended on for mail, papers, parcels and emergency supplies. Peters and Nicolls, both from Mortlake, called and delivered groceries once a month. Our main shopping, banking and sales centre was Camperdown. With the daughters at Camperdown High School for seven years, we travelled thousands of miles over the 25 years.

And so we remember: the wind which tore the hems off new sheets, the rushes used at the hut door to cope with the mud, the windmill which ceased to function on a hot Christmas morning, so that Christmas dinner was greatly delayed; the tank which blew away; the sudden increase in the dog population with the arrival of two litters of pups, five in each litter; the invasion into my lovely garden of over 700 head of cattle from a droving mob; the cricket plague; the thunderstorm and deluge which threatened newly-shorn sheep just as we were about to leave for Ballarat the evening before Pam's wedding; the trials of having to travel 30 miles to the doctor when bed was preferable; me (no farmer type) calling "help" when trying to cope with troublesome heifers when David had to be hospitalised; and last but not least – the snakes at the back door!

Most families were involved in the local activities; there was the CFA at Pura, the RSL and RSL Ladies Auxiliary at Darlington. The Christmas parties and bonfire nights are well remembered. At Pura there was the tennis club, indoor bowls, the Hall Committee and Church activities.

There are sad times and glad times in every community, and Pura Pura was no exception.

The 1967 drought hit all badly. Our lucerne paddock saved our lambs as they were rationed to an hour each morning and again in the evening. David took to the roads with a flock of sheep, and lived in a caravan. My little nephew and I took meals out to him each evening.

But the worst disaster in the area was the fire of 1977. This was devastating. Our farm was one of the few south of the Terrinallum Lake. This lake prevented the spread of the fire in our direction, and this also saved Darlington.

But so many settlers and other friends suffered severe losses of homes, equipment, stock and fencing. The aftermath of the fire seemed to draw people closer together as help came from near and far to assist in the clean-up and the re-establishment of farming activities. The shock caused premature ageing to a number of the farmers who saw years of hard work go up in smoke. However, bravely they went back to work!

Our plans for retirement were very vague until David's health problems hastened our decisions. So in 1979 we moved to Ballarat. David's health has improved and we are never idle, we have so many new interests.

Hail, rain or shine, the vagaries of the weather no longer govern our lives. No sheep to shed hastily to keep them dry for shearing; no ewes and lambs to be moved to shelter; no lucerne to be baled during the night when the moisture content was "just right;" no shorn sheep to be kept moving all night when the weather turned foul; no water shortage; and no nightmares about snakes at the back door!

David L. and Winifred L. Lade

*

TOM AND FREDA MUIR

Lot 4 Terrinallum West

Both Tom and I had come from a farming background, and at the time of being granted a block were working 14 miles out of Corowa NSW. We were a little apprehensive at the prospect of running a farm for ourselves.

We left Corowa in an Austin A 40, with our four children, plus a dog and cat. It was quite a trip, and we arrived at the hut in pouring rain, and no furniture. We tried to get accommodation at the Darlington Hotel, but Lewis' had themselves arrived only that day, so no luck there.

The furniture arrived and was unloaded just before dark, five rooms of it crammed into the hut. We slept in our beds that night. It took only a few days to arrange things, and the hut became home for ten months.

My worst memory of the time in the hut was a plague of fleas which nearly drove us mad. Also the rats which played games around the rafters, and chewed holes in my new double bed blankets: I was always afraid they would bite the children, but they never did.

Next came the fencing, which Tom did all by hand with crowbar and shovel. No tractor for us at that stage, the little grey Ferguson came much later. I helped with running the wire, and many a time things got tangled up, and tempers frayed.

We bought a horse before the fences were up, and had a problem, the 566 acres being divided into only two paddocks. With the whole family plus dog helping, we could catch him only occasionally, so didn't keep him long.

We needed a cow, so Joe Wyartt lent us old Daisy, who had done the rounds of a few settlers. I milked her, and later a few other cows, under the trees near the road. Eventually we were permitted to erect a shed and dairy, and for some years I milked up to ten cows. I wouldn't dare go away, or I would come home to dry cows. Tom didn't like them much.

It was great watching the house go up, and an exciting day when we moved in, my first and only "new" house. We had no problems with primary school, as a jeep from Terrinallum station took their children and all the settlement children to school in the morning, and the settlers took turns in bringing them all home. At one stage I was bringing home 11 children in the little Austin. At that time there was no bus to the high school, so my eldest son left school at 14 years to get a job. The next year a bus went from Darlington to Camperdown, and Les rode his bike in and out for two years, before going to Melbourne to work. By the time the twins were ready for high school, a bus went from our front gate to Derrinallum.

Over the years the farm developed, and we were very happy there. The work was hard, such as carting hay, and feeding out in winter. The year we picked up ewes and lambs dead because of the drought, it seemed it would never end; day after day I would cry whilst doing this job.

I have fond memories of Mr. Cole, the skin buyer from Terang, who was always kind and friendly, also Mr. McLeod, the rabbit-buyer who picked up the rabbits the boys trapped. So many happy memories, and if not for ill health we would have stayed for years longer.

Our main relaxation in the early days was going to the football. Although some thought we couldn't afford it, it was especially a help to Tom.

We held church and Sunday school in the primary school for years, sitting in desks, then a bank building from Mortlake was purchased and became our church.

A highlight was a train trip to the zoo from the Pura Pura Station. Tom's main interest was football, and the RSL which was close to the heart of all the settlers, and still takes us out to Darlington to enjoy the fellowship of old friends.

Freda and Tom Muir

## Chapter 8

1951, 2nd Portion of TERRINALLUM ESTATE

Lot 1 A. E. Smith, 640 Acres

Lot 2 J. A. Wyartt, 666 Acres

Lot 3 R. J. Anderson, 540 Acres

Lot 4 L. A. Gleghorn, 500 Acres

Lot 5 R. N. A. Whitney.

Lot 6 W. Whelan.

JOE WYARRT

Lot 2 Terrinallum Estate

Joe was born at Burstall in England, not far from "Constable Country," and came out to Australia in 1920. His first taste of Aussie was on a farm "up the Mallee" rolling scrub, etc. working for a First World War soldier settler. Later he worked for the Philips of "Myrtleigh" at Tatyoon for several years, which took him through the depression of the 1930's. He took on share-farming in the area, having the Philips' property as a base.

He joined the AIF and saw the raids on Darwin.

While I was in training at Royal Park, my sister Mary Philips of Myrtleigh wrote to say that Joe was in the same area camp and to look out for him, "a big dark man" \- that was my first meeting with Joe Wyartt.

He obtained a block on Terrinallum South Estate in the early 1950's. He was a constant figure around Camperdown sale yards, dealing in young dairy heifers for growing out and selling to dairy-farmers. Wearing a large hat, he was a well-known figure. He had a great sense of humour, which he often used on the unsuspecting.

One incident was when he sent Mrs. Whelan to Camperdown with an order to buy a double-barrel pea rifle. The message came back from the shop-keepers, no doubt in the know, that they were out of them at the moment.

Joe had a rocky block with barriers and rocky outcrops running here and there, but that did not deter him from setting out to cut grass hay. I had the contract to bale the hay with the early power-take-off – no live power those days. After one round I asked Joe, "Did you catch that snake?"

Joe replied, "What snake?"

"The one you chased with the hay rake."

That was just a small part of Joe Wyartt.

He eventually retired to Camperdown. He is survived by two sisters, living in Suffolk, England.

Norm Ritchie

*

MARY AND LEN GLEGHORN

Lot 4 Terrinallum Estate

On the 24th November 1951, we set off in our Austin A 70 utility from Moriac to make our new home at Pura Pura on the newly established soldier settlement farms. Everyone used to say, "where's that?"

Our property of 503 acres was on the corner of the Carranballac-Darlington Road and Blomely's Lane (Gellies Lane.)

We arrived with other soldier settlement neighbours: Alby Smith, Joe Wyartt, Connie and Bill Whelan, Alice and Richard Anderson and Noel and Gwen Whitney.

Home was the corrugated iron garage for the next 18 months with no SEC, telephone or hot running water; (things we had taken for granted before moving to Pura Pura.) Norman and Jean Smith helped us out initially with drinking water.

The friendly warm welcome to Pura Pura was encouraging. We were invited to the School Christmas Break-Up Party, which enabled us to meet the local townsfolk. The 'Nicholas' family who owned 'Terrinallum' at the time, opened their home on Saturday evenings for film nights. This was an enjoyable evening for all.

Life in the garage had its funny moments, our first clothes line was pieces of twine tied together. Having a six week old baby and a four year old, one had to wash daily. We didn't have automatic washing machines; our bath doubled as a wash trough – and of course plenty of 'elbow grease.'

There were plenty of rabbits at Pura; we had the odd 'rabbit drive,' attended by all including the children who had great fun.

We joined in the local activities with the primary school, me becoming involved on the Mother's Club Committee, and Len on the School Committee. Len was keen to see the Fire Brigade get started and was Secretary/Treasurer for nearly 20 years. He also held the position of Treasurer of the Public Hall.

If memory serves me right, the Pura Pura Public Hall was opened in October 1957. The Annual Hall Ball was the social event of the year each October with people coming from far and wide for our famous 'chicken suppers.' The community worked very hard for the addition of tennis courts beside the hall, and enjoyed the Friday night indoor bowls games and more recently the local badminton competition.

The farms grew like 'topsy.' After building boundary fences, woolsheds, machinery sheds, hay sheds and homes, buying tractors, mowers etc., and digging dams, life began to fit into place.

Meanwhile our children attended the Pura Pura Primary School where enrolments varied from approximately 30 in the late 1950's to 13 in 1969. Unfortunately the school closed in the 1970's and has been transported away.

Learning to swim in Pura for all the local children was in the creek, (Mt. Emu Creek) at the bridge. The true initiation for all to was master the 25-metre swim to the 'log;' what a goal! A real thrill for the children, but I shudder now when I think of the creek surrounded by reeds up to four feet high, and, oh the snakes! Well, at least they all loved the running water. After heavy rains, no-one knew what would be in the creek.

Our co-called 'luxuries' in life consisted of: -

\- our first washing machine when our fourth child was born, a 32-volt Hoover hand wringer model.

\- kerosene fridge that smoked in the hot weather.

\- 32-volt lighting system in the house.

\- a septic toilet system in the mid-60's, previous to that it was a ritual to dig the hole and bury 'all' when the pan was full. Our children thought they were lucky to use toilet paper instead of the 'Weekly Times.'

\- and electricity in approximately 1964, of course allowing for television, freezers, electric blankets, electric stove, electric frypans in the home, lights in the woolshed, electric wool presses and electric hand shears.

As the nearest shop was seven miles away in Nerrin Nerrin or 14 miles to Derrinallum, we made a trip to Ballarat monthly (56 miles away) to buy our major food supplies and clothing, and to Terang (32 miles away) to the dentist and doctor.

The sheep and cattle were taken by semi-trailer to markets usually in Ballarat or Camperdown.

Our disasters occurred in 1967 and 1977. In 1967, we experienced a drought which saw animals and gardens die, dams dry up, limited baths and showers in a week, bath water keeping trees alive in the garden, forced to buy hay for the animals and often little wind for windmills to function and supply water from bores. The drought lasted 16 months.

In February 1977, we experienced a dreadful disaster, Pura was in ruins after a terrible fire swept through the district claiming homes, stock and all in its path. Telephones and electricity were re-connected within a few days. Thank heavens for wood stove which gave us cooking facilities and hot water (our hot water service was connected through our wood stove.)

The help and support given to us at this time was enormous. We were very grateful for the assistance given to us in our time of need.

The Mortlake Shire dug large holes around the district to cater for debris to be buried. One hole was dug in front of our property where we buried miles of old fences and many things too numerous to mention damaged or ruined on the day.

Coincidentally, in the later 1950's, we sold the Austin A 70 utility in which we carried all our fencing materials, and helped build our farm, and later bought back the same utility in the late 1960's from a teacher at Derrinallum High School. Our children learned to drive the 'bomb' as it was called and had enormous fun in it. The Austin A 70 was badly burnt and is now buried in the hole in front of our property. It seemed fitting it ended up where it did.

Len's health deteriorated after the fire, and like other soldier settlers, we eventually left Pura Pura in December 1978, after 29 memorable years leaving our son to manage the farm which was eventually sold in 1981.

Mary Gleghorn

*

BILL AND CONNIE WHELAN

Two children Gary and Aileen

Lot 6 Terrinallum Estate

Our parents, Bill and Connie Whelan came to Pura Pura in 1952 – Gary was aged four, and Aileen two. We were all holidaying at Rosebud when a letter arrived with the news that Dad had been allotted a block on Terrinallum Estate. During the war he served with the 39th Battalion in New Guinea – he was originally from St. Arnaud, and Mum was a nurse at Ararat. Dad worked at Yalla-y-Poora Station for 15 years and then for a number of years at Ross Bridge; we came from Ross Bridge to the block at Pura Pura.

Transport when we first arrived at the block was horse and cart, and home was a hut which Dad built. Shortly after taking up residence Dad purchased his first car, a Ford Prefect – it was a great thrill for us all and a greater thrill to be moving at a much faster pace! Mum even had the hut comfortable, as it was to be our home for some time. Winter was a problem as we lived quite a distance from the main road – mud and water seemed to be in abundance, and the Prefect had to be left at the front gate – each time we went out to do shopping and visiting we had to make the two-way journey to the car on foot, so rubber boots and raincoats remain in our memory well.

Dad milked cows for the first few years, as most of the settlers did. It was a regular income until sheep numbers were increased. When this was attained, dairy cattle were replaced by beef cattle. The cream from the dairy was transported to Derrinallum and later to Camperdown.

As rabbits were plentiful in the area, income could also be supplemented by trapping these animals and selling them. We both remember Mum cooked delicious meals from them too. We never seemed to get sick of eating them either. We often had fish which were caught in the nearby Emu Creek. Milk and cream came from the dairy, and Dad slaughtered sheep for our mutton, so we were like a lot of other families in those days – almost self-supporting.

There was great rejoicing when the time came for us to move into our new house – life in the hut had lots of happy memories, but it was great to have extra space!!

We remember our parents in later years talking fondly of "times when we lived in the hut."

School was at Pura Pura. Soldier Settlement had helped boost numbers at the school. Like most of the smaller schools in the area, it has been closed a number of years. Transport for several years was in a vehicle provided by "Terrinallum" station for families who worked on the property – they offered to transport us settlement children, and this kind gesture was appreciated by our parents.

Occasionally, deer were sighted in the plantation at "Terrinallum," and we have in our family a set of antlers found in the plantation, presumably from a deer which must have died before our arrival.

Both are parents were very community minded, and served on most committees in the district. Soldier Settlement had made quite an impact in the area, and balls and social events in the local hall were always a pleasant reprieve from the toil of the farm. Children enjoyed these functions as much as the adults did. We remember well the delicious home-made suppers – sausage rolls, and lots of cream-cakes and sponges. There was always more than we could actually eat!

Mum died in 1974, and Dad sold the farm in 1977 – our clearing sale was two days before the shocking fire which passed through the area. Part of the house caught fire, and the hut was burnt. 250 sheep awaiting transport away were trapped, and half of these were burnt. It was a sad and tragic day, but the strong bond of friendship which had developed over the years came through in the crisis, and neighbour supported neighbour. Our neighbours, Dick and Alice Anderson lost almost everything, including their home and possessions – we remember Dad saying if he hadn't picked Dick up he would have perished too, as the fire was so intense. The rest of the Anderson family were away for the day.

Dad retired to Ballarat, but died in 1980. Aileen married Allan Gale, and they live at Woorndoo. Gary has his home in Ballarat, and uses it as a base, as he still does some work in the local area.

Our memories of our life on the block, and our time at Pura Pura will remain forever.

by Doris Brewer – as told by Gary Whelan

*

"I remember" by Iris Hill

They came with stars in their eyes, the Soldier Settlers to the Darlington-Dundonnell district. In those days it was like winning Tatts to be selected for a block.

We were onlookers, working on a station for 18 pounds a month at that time. One land-owner said, "Let them have our land. We will get it back in 20 years like we did after the last war." It has taken longer than that.

We had a home on a property, very simple, but did have electricity and some water (tanks.)

I can remember Bill and Margaret Cook – I used to ride over to see them. They were living in a garage. Really they were cosy – bedroom-kitchen and a lean-to. Bucket shower, wood stove. Had to cut wood which was a chore. Copper to do the washing; tank for water, or cart it. They were there two years (?) before they had their house built, but they never complained. No roads, winter time had to leave the car in plantation and trudge to their hut. They even had a vegetable garden. Michael was a baby there; I can remember one hot day, riding over to see him, and sitting on a cement floor. It was hot.

Eventually their house was built. They had seven children. Now even their house has gone. They came, reared their family, and went. Those were the days.

I can remember wool-shed barbeques; rabbit-drives; fox hunts; gun-club. Remember, Merv, one rabbit drive at your place. We got a lot of rabbits, but I let a pretty one go, it was ginger and white. We had a few words over that.

The settlers brought life into the district. Football team; tennis-club. We weren't stars at tennis, but we had a lot of fun. When I met up with Syd Reichman, he always reminded me of the time we won a tournament at Ennerdale. I won a cup and saucer that I still have. I don't remember what he won.

Often we went on rabbit drives; they used to supplement the settlers' money. I remember Mr. G. D. Cumming and his house-keeper in a gig at one drive. I had a rifle, and shot a rabbit right at the horse's feet. It reared. Mr. Cumming wasn't amused, but I got the rabbit.

Most of the settlers have gone now, but we remember them. The schools are closed. I remember Grace Pearson bringing her children to school on a tractor in the winter months.

Driving along from Dundonnell to Darlington the face of the country has changed. Roads where there used to be tracks; fences, plantations, houses, where once there were paddocks.

I remember Timber and Alice Robertson – always open house, as now. One time Timber had a crew come to dip sheep one Sunday morning. 5.30am, Ernie, Sticks and Reg. 6.00am. They weren't working too well, so Timber took their bottle of comfort. They went on strike, lay down on the battens, so sheep couldn't move, until Timber joined their party.

Remember Darlington Pub, 6.00pm closing, but sometimes open until 7.30pm. Dancing at Darlington Hall. Everyone in full evening dress. Sneak out to the cars to have a drink. (Mostly the men did that.)

Some years were good for the Soldier Settlement.

I remember them.

Iris Grace Hill

*

DOROTHY A. GEORGE (WATSON)

As a local resident in Darlington I witnessed the start of the Soldier Settlement after the Second World War. Firstly those who had put in for blocks in this area arrived, some in their own vehicles, others via the mail contractor who, at that time, was my father – the late H. N. Watson. (The mail in those days came out from Camperdown to Dundonnell,) and my father used to take it to Mount Fyans shearer's huts. The mail delivery also meant the only means of getting groceries, parcels, farm supplies, and Chemist's prescriptions, also the cream was collected and taken to the Camperdown Cheese and Butter Factory. I was often the driver, the mail was sorted in Darlington and then delivered to the various farms, as well as delivering the Dundonnell mail to the then Dundonnell Post Office.

Most of the settlers were living in huts, off the beaten track, and no made roads in. We would collect orders from the mail boxes, these could be for groceries, or a chemist's order, or anything that was not in stock at the local store at Darlington, which was also owned by my father, was bought in Camperdown. Sometimes we would meet the people at their mail-boxes and pass on any news of the outside world. With the Settlement our area grew, more children for the schools and local clubs benefited too.

Today as I look back, they may have been trying days, but we also grew to a happy community. People had time to talk and help one another. Also the land improved, my brothers Noel and Gordon (Mick) had transports, general and stock carting. May our memories of these days go down in history, as a big asset to this area of the Western District.

I know the makers of Bailey's Amolene (a cow udder ointment) shares must have risen, as this was very popular for hands after a day's fencing.

## Chapter 9

LOOK BACK AND LAUGH

Explanatory Notes:

' to shout' - to pay for a round of drinks.

A chain is equivalent to 66 feet, or 20.12 meters.

"picking dags"- removing soiled wool from a fleece.

*

Yes, there are some characters on every estate.

Our only way of going around the sheep in our early days was by walking. One cold morning, one intrepid athlete type found his way barred by the creek running full. It was a long way around by the bridge, so after estimating the width, he decided he could jump it. Well the feet made it but the body fell back in the creek.

Climbing out, he continued on and waded through the creek on the return journey. Next day he took a dead sapling for a vaulting-pole. It mid flight the sapling broke and there was a repeat performance with a bigger splash.

*

In the days of communal living, one practical joker was always having fun at meal time. Dobbing the hot teaspoon on the unwary hand, etc. One lady had just served the jam roll and custard and sat down again. She drank from her cup of tea (heavily salted while she was serving) leapt to her feet, grabbed the offender's jam roll and custard, and screwed it upside down firmly on his head. He took it very well but our resident bachelor nearly had a fit.

*

As I wrestle with big fat sheep these days, I remember the strength available on the estate in those early days. I recall seeing a 16 stone man swinging a 14 stone man by one foot on a ten foot wide shearing board without smashing the victim's head on the overhead gear post or the catching pen. He went a bit red in the face, though.

*

PMT was not recognised when one settler's wife observed him giving his sheep dog bitch a hiding and roaring out, "If you think you are going to go silly once a month you'd better think again."

*

Then there was the easily embarrassed settler.

Going around the lambing ewes one day, he had his young daughter and her school mate with him. Seeing a ewe in trouble he stopped the truck a long way off, and told the girls to stay put. He then walked over and positioning himself so the girls could not see, worked at freeing the ewe of her troublesome lamb.

Suddenly the hair on the back of his neck stood up on end and he looked up to see a young face peering over each shoulder.

*

Settler's wife was amused by the sight of a dunny being dragged along the road on its slab. Neighbour had installed a septic system and decided to move the old dunny to the wool-shed. The lady reckoned she had never seen a dunny travelling along the road before.

*

One settler was proud of his drinking prowess until another went to town with him, drank him under the table, loaded him into the car, and drove to the next town where he had another session, before driving back to his own home. He aroused the sleeper and put him behind the wheel saying, "You can drive yourself home, mate," then went to bed. The victim managed to drive himself a few chains before he flaked out and went into the table-drain and was bogged. Sometime during the night he kicked off his shoes and stuck his feet out of the window. Telling the story later he said, "Gaud, talk about cold; when I woke up in the morning, my socks were covered in frost, and I couldn't feel my feet."

*

Horse loving settler explaining how he got his ribs broken, "He pelted me alright, I went so high I could see my neighbour's roof over the top of my roof."

*

Remember the two diligent Wooriwyrite Fire Brigade members who raced off one evening to fight a large fire near Derrinallum, only to find the moon laughing at them over Mt. Elephant as they approached the town.

John Hannah told this story of the time he was droving sheep on horseback, from Lismore to his new block on North Station. Near dark one evening a vehicle stopped – the driver asking if he needed any help. John took up the offer, and later in conversation remarked, "They tell me there's a 'hell of a good bloke' around these parts. His name is Bob Jamieson."

No comment was made at the time, but later to his surprise and great amusement, John discovered the good Samaritan had in fact been Bob Jamieson!!

Then there was the time that the Reichmans (who always loved a party) decided to give Harold Brown a birthday party in their woolshed. There was much carry-on with the adults, loads of kids about by then as well.

Dot and Muriel Brown had worked hard baking and had a table loaded with food in the sheep-pens. They had a full-time job keeping the kids away from it. The centrepiece still to be collected from the house, so Muriel, Dot and her sister Irene – all those girls who were the Authority - left and went to the house, which was quite a distance away from the shed. It was the signal for the kids to fall upon the food and hand it around. I can still see Muriel Brown make her theatrical entry with birthday cake aloft, hair streaming down her back. "Ta-da." Imagine their surprise when they observed the tables were bare.

*

We all had our low spots and high spots. Some of us are cruel enough to laugh at others' misfortune. A couple I know had a dreadful thing happen to them. I know it is too close to their hearts to tell it themselves. They had three boys, so decided to give a birthday party in the woolshed. Would they supply beer? After a conference they agreed yes. Things were tough. He went to his cricket boot, and extracted money he had been hoarding. She uncovered her cache under the mattress, yes they could afford it. So arrangements went full speed ahead and the barrel was put in place on the battens in the woolshed. Night closed in at the usual time and the people came, and there was much laughter and hilarity. He was proud of his barrel, and to be the begetter of three fine sons, in that order, as he approached his barrel. Then the shattering discovery, the barrel was empty, it had all leaked out through the battens, gone, drained. She, who has no understanding at all about beer, (she has even been known to put ice-cubes in it,) just said "Good riddance." He, who looked a broken man, quickly pulled himself together and organised a few dozen bottles. He was hit so hard by the empty barrel, he is still liable to be tearful about it.

*

One wife, concerned about how late her husband was returning from the RSL meeting, took off on a push bike to search along the road to Darlington. Passing a nearby lake, she thought she spied the roof of a submerged utility reflected in the moonlight (unaware that the lake was only inches deep.)

Disregarding this possibility, she pushed on and arrived at the RSL "hut," to find the evening's activities still well underway.

Seeing her spouse's ute outside she loaded her bike in the back and drove home.

An ever-alert member observed this happening, thus giving husband time to prepare a convincing excuse.

*

One harvest-time we had a fifteen year old lad staying with us. He drove the truck as we carried bales of hay to the stack. He had recently turned vegetarian, finding he could no longer stomach meat, after being nauseated at the forced watching of the dissection of mice and frogs at school. Like all lads, he was keen to earn extra pocket-money, and got himself a job driving a neighbour's truck, also hay-carting. He was in a team of six men, and being a timid lad, didn't like to admit to being a vegetarian when they went into dinner. He was given a large plate of mutton with a "Get that into you" from the big man with the gravel voice. That poor lad ate every scrap, and swears to this day that each man at the table had a leg of mutton on his plate.

*

It was compulsory voting day December 1952, with our daughter 3 weeks old, and luckily breast fed. We had no road, and a very wet winter and we decided to drive our 1928 Chevrolet car with chains attached across the paddock towards Dundonnell, through a running wide drain.

Eric laid wire netting in the drain to make sure we didn't get bogged, but alas the netting tangled in the chains, hence we were stuck in the drain for 3 hours with Eric trying to untangle the mess with water running down his neck. Finally got out, voted, but didn't venture that way home.

Whilst living in the garage and the house being built, builders were blasting stones from the septic tank hole. Jannette was a baby in the bassinet and I leant over her to protect her from the shower of stones on the roof, not thinking that some may have come through the roof on me.

*

His story.

A certain person not renowned for his generosity when his turn to shout, brought his boys around one Saturday morning to get a ride to cricket. I was lying in bed more dead than alive, when in he walked after the wife and boys had left, with a couple of bottles of the amber fluid. The shock was so great that after he left I felt much better, so dragged myself out of bed and when I went to place those special bottles in the fridge found that it was there they were removed from on his way through to the bedroom.

*

My mate – My story.

One day I went to see my mate,

His wife met me at the gate,

She looked so sad and skinny

As she wrung her hands on her pinny.

Without even a cry, she looked me fair in the eye,

And said "It's him, he's laid low and has been since dawn."

Then I saw the blinds were drawn.

It was his birthday to make it worse,

I said, "I'd brought nothing," curse curse.

His wife had an idea, "Give him this beer."

He wasn't too astute to leave it in his ute,

I took both bottles by the neck, just for the heck,

I walked slowly to his room

And could just see him in the gloom,

Poor man had stopped his cussin'

Only enjoyed a bit of fussin',

It was pitiful to see, the way he looked at me.

In the dusk I could make out old Nick with a frown,

His fork at the ready, he didn't know whether this man should go up or down,

The kids were all hushed, nothing was to be rushed.

He did say thanks for the beer

I said, "Happy Birthday," with a leer,

His wife was quite near.

I wondered when my mate would become "the late"

As his beer just stood in the corner,

He was still lying prone, as I headed for home,

The crisis came at ten that night.

When the man got up to go outside, he looked a sight.

He patted a hound and kicked the ground,

He went to his ute, and got quite a start as he felt for his beer in the dark.

He suddenly knew the score, and let out a roar,

The family knew when the cussin' was back again,

And their man was over the worst, though a blood vessel nearly burst.

Everything trembled as he entered the house, even a mouse

As he made a bee-line for his beer.

The whole family were happy,

They now had their Pappy.

Now as we grow old, I'm amazed I was so bold,

As to give my old mate his own beer.

*

Myrngrong settlers have always been a step ahead, so the Commission saw fit to put the hobbles on them to slow them down, with the following circular.

To all settlers,

27th July, 1959.

Advice has been received from the Architects, that the toilets being erected, are not to be used until the completed house is officially handed over by the Clerk of Works.

This procedure must be strictly adhered to.

Signed Supervisor Mortlake.

(The mind boggles.)

*

I grew swedes in my paddock.

They eat well with haddock.

Or so I was told, by a couple not so old, long ago,

One day I saw movement, I saw someone bend, right down the far end.

While I was a cursin' I saw it was a person.

She was pinching my swedes, while he watched from the reeds.

She stopped her humming when he said "Someone's coming."

She exclaimed "It's he," and turned to flee.

She hurried away with a bag on her hip,

Said "Grab these and don't slip" as she dived for the fence in a frenzy.

She sounded quite sharp as she called "Help I'm stuck."

He said, "Raise your butt a bit higher, you're caught in the wire."

She said it was her leg, he said it was her spare tyre.

Then there was a big rent as she tore free, content.

She screamed at him, "You varmint, you have ruined my garment."

All he said was "You old moo" as they sped towards Woorndoo.

This all happened too long ago to tell.

I remember it with a few snickers.

If it happened today, I'd be sued for her new knickers as well.

*

There was one settler whose greatest possession was his wool-bale weighing scales. He was rather good about them and would lend them to his friends, as well as help the friends load them, making sure they didn't get scratched. He had been observed polishing the Avery name plate with his sleeve as he worked in the area. This fateful year shearing time came along and the scales were not there; not to worry, he rang this one and that one, nobody could help this poor man, he would even ask a stranger, "Have your see my scales?" He couldn't even blame his wife. It dawned on him they were stolen, so he contacted the local Sherlocks. They set off their sirens, went here and there, and put the dastardly theft in the local papers, which was read by a mate up the track, who rang the poor distraught man and asked does he want his scales back? The owner had lent them and forgotten about it.

*

A settler went into town one morning to do the shopping, met his mate later on and decided to visit the Top Pub. A few hours later departed for home, and arranged to pick mate up at 5pm, and have a drink with the boys at Darlington. Arriving home early afternoon, donned the combination overalls, and had a quick look around the lambing ewes, threw a few bales of hay out to the cattle, and headed for Darlington. Some time later settler and mate decided to head for home. They got to the door just as two other friends arrived, explaining that they had come to the RSL meeting, but discovered they were a week early – the meeting was next Friday. The two decided, with a little persuasion, to return to the pub and have a round with them.

Two hours later the settler headed for home, managed to get the car home, but parked outside, wasn't game to take on the garage. He made it inside, and collapsed in the passage, out cold.

His kids were somewhat concerned about this, and rang the local ambulance driver (a family friend) and a few of the neighbours, including his mate of the Darlington affair and yours truly. All arrived about the same time, and it was decided that the best place for an unconscious man was hospital, and he was placed on a stretcher, his mate insisted on carrying him to the ambulance. On reaching the front door-step the mate stumbled and almost took the patient down with him, but we managed to save the situation, and he was eventually pushed into the ambulance. Being a tall man his feet were sticking out the back. His mate indicated to the ambulance driver that the patient would not fit in, and suggested we might have to break his legs. The driver felt this was a bit too drastic, and bending the knees would solve the problem. This was done and the ambulance headed off, and was met at the hospital by the two local doctors ready to handle the emergency. The patient was placed on the examination table still clad in the combination overalls. This proved a problem for the doctors, so they decided to remove them. Removing a pair of combination overalls from a limp body is quite a difficult operation even for two experienced doctors, and when the patient was only half out, he suddenly slipped over the side and crashed to the floor. It was then decided it was much easier to finish the job on the floor, and then return the patient to the table.

The examination revealed nothing serious, and the patient was sent home a couple of days later none the worse for the experience.

*

An attempt to come to grips with the modern jargon as spoken by teachers, journalists and "trendies" who consider themselves the academics of the eighties. Right?

At this point in time, these two persons decided to set a hen. They thought it would be suitable and appropriate in the long term. Right? They were equally supportive and caring in the three week situation as was the prudent thing to do. Right? The hen lost all credibility when not a chicken appeared. Person No.1 and person No. 2 were all for an enquiry, and having said that, applied immediately for government funding. The enquiry came up with a finding that was leaked first to the left, then the centre left. The right had to wait until the report had been tabled. Right?

The finding was that in the particular situation, the hen was unable to proceed without the assistance of a rooster.

Therefore the sexes are not equal. Right? There you go.

*

Scene – Just finished helping draft ewes and lambs prior to shedding up for shearing at a near neighbour's place.

Young son about 6 years old, who had previously been pressed into service at the drafting gate on other similar occasion, arrived in the yard after school just as the odd lambs that had beaten his father through the wrong side were being caught and thrown into their right place.

On seeing this the lad said, remembering past chiacking, "You've made some mistakes," to which his slightly shamefaced parent replied, "A few," eliciting the further scornful remark, "And you, a father!"

*

A settler's wife decided that if she was ever going to get into town shopping, she had better get her driving licence.

After a few hours practice around the paddocks decided to give it a go. All went well until the policeman instructed her to stop in Church Lane. She was then instructed to turn around but asked to imagine that the grass fringe was a brick wall.

Well she promptly put the car in reverse and crashed through the imaginary brick wall and said, "Silly man, anyone can see there is no brick wall there." She got the licence.

*

A MEMORY OF AN UNUSUAL VISIT.

One warm day we had visitors – a young soldier settler's wife and her little boy. As we talked, she said, "Do you know what I really miss? I would just love to have a real bath – I am so tired of just sponge-baths, or squeezing into a tub."

"Oh, that is no problem," I replied, "I'll get the water heated and you can have a bath right now."

For a start she thought I was joking, but I soon prepared a bath of warm water and she was able to lie back and relax in comfort.

Certainly it was an unusual way to spend an afternoon visit, but it was a small, practical way in which a local Darlington resident could give a little pleasure to one of the new-comers.

Laura M. Guthrie.

*

Dragged up on Lot 9 – Mt. Fyans.

By the time I came on the scene in 1958, and was then old enough to be aware of life's peculiarities, we resided in our nice soldier settlement house, only rather new then. The original dwelling was always the "old garage" to me, since Dad had added his up-to-date model to the front of the house. There was an inside toilet, and the old "dunny" was used for housing pet lambs, and I took it for granted that everybody did likewise, being a trifle shocked when some people would actually use their lamb-house-dunny for a real toilet.

Shearing was marvellous from my point of view – Dad employed his children as rouseabouts, and paid a pittance during crutching for "picking dags." Mum was rather less impressed, cooking for men with whimsical appetites and hangovers on Mondays. She spilled the huge tea-pot down her front one year, and battled on with the most spectacular blister on her belly, which would burst and weep, and must have been agonising.

On one occasion Dad set off for Geelong with the truck fully loaded with wool, but returned looking very miserable, never having reached Geelong, with flat tyre after flat tyre.

I thought money was in inexhaustible supply, and big people just had lots. Dad let me come to Geelong to witness the wool-sale once. We had lunch first in a Chinese cafe, and I pleaded that he buy me a camphor-wood chest there, and Dad agreed on the proviso that our wool brought a certain price. I was so excited when ours came up, but it brought nowhere near the price, and Dad smiled, and I learned about money and farming.

In 1967 everybody talked about droughts. Yes, it was lovely and sunny, and the dam got so low we could see the bottom, and a long-lost shovel misappropriated by the irate second son one day. We farm kids wore rubber boots all seasons – a prerequisite of daily life, I thought. Mum bought us new boots one very hot day in Mortlake, and I insisted on wearing mine as we completed our shopping. People were staring, Mum said, imagining she made a poor child wear sweltering boots in the heat! In 1967 I pleaded for new boots, because anything new was special. Mum said it was pointless buying gum-boots in a drought, but eventually gave in. I wore the boots, and it rained, and I said, "See?" I doubt if the drought was broken that day.

We caught the school bus to Mortlake, along with the Chambers, Robertsons, Robby Biggin, Reichmans, Bishops, Kidmans, Scotts, Hardings, Burgesses, and others I can't think of now, if they weren't of my vintage. The bus was the place for friends and fights, sleeping sometimes, and eating Anne Kidman's lunch. It was a long day for young children, getting up early enough to catch the bus at 8 am and arriving home again just before 5 pm. It was early days for Mortlake bus lines, and we had many breakdowns in the old jalopies, which delighted us en route to school, and horrified us homeward bound. The bus even caught fire once, but sister Marj didn't notice, because she was reading. I think Mum still has bad dreams about getting her brood ready on time for a bus which couldn't wait. As an adult I pity my mother those years of shoes to find, and hair to brush by a dead-line. I also thank the bus driver. Marshall Gee was a patient man.

We started with sheep, which were later turned magically into a breed called "Zenith," but ran beef cattle too. Dad had a load of cattle in a crate on a very windy day, leaned his head out of the window, and was painted "Manure-green" in one splat. But he is a happy man, and took it well. The dogs bore his wrath, and I would feel sorry for them. Dad seemed to think there was a sound barrier which allowed him to shout, "You bloody mongrel!" at them and childish ears to remain innocent.

We all helped, even if enthusiasm varied, and we became mercenary. Aleck and I had a profitable concern in trough cleaning, and bale turning at one stage, and friend Anne and I made a morbid fortune the year of the mouse-plague.

I loved living on the farm, with the ponies, tennis days on the court Dad had made, poddy calves and the unpredictable bull. There was pony club at Dundonnell, greatly contributed to by the Kosch family in later years, and Christmas parties at the Darlington RSL Hall. John Chambers was handing out ice-creams, shouting "Lucky-last," so this very bloated child felt obliged to eat for luck, and was ill.

I was sad when the farm was sold in 1976, and even sadder now that my own children are being raised in a city, disbelieving that cows make milk, and wary of horses and dogs. I'd have been horrified to have started out my married life in a shed, carrying and boiling water, with new babies and no dryer. I don't know how you managed it, but the soldier settlers didn't cope, you excelled. Perhaps as returned servicemen, the idea of co-operation, mateship and struggling persisted into new civilian lives.

Louise Inglis (nee McRae)

*

Our parents' regular once a week trips to Mortlake were quite embarrassing to us. How many times would it take to make the Hill going into Mortlake? Twice to three times normally, we would roll back down the hill to try once again. All our memories are happy ones.

Anonymous.

That shows great fortitude. The family owned a pre-war tourer Chev, which apparently took two or three tries at the hill east of Mortlake, it has been tapered out, twice since then.

Editor

## Chapter 10

1957, "JELLALABAD" ESTATE

Lot 1 R. C. Biggin, 535 Acres.

Lot 2 M. Banks, 445 Acres.

Lot 3 A. S. Blain, 430 Acres.

Lot 4 E. J. Cumming, 530 Acres

Lot 5 R. J. Gray, 550 Acres.

Lot 6 J. A. LaFranchi, 585 Acres.

Lot 7 R. A. Kent, 600 Acres.

Lot 8 C. M. Buntine, 515 Acres.

Lot 9 W. A. Gleeson, 515 Acres.

Lot 10 A. G. Gray, 490 Acres.

Explanatory Notes

'Super' is Superphosphate, which is fertiliser.

A chain is equivalent to 66 feet, or 20.12 meters.

VFL – Victorian Football League.

'drafting sheep' is done by operating a swinging gate to sort sheep, eg ewes from lambs. Operating the gate is often the job of one of the kids.

BOB AND MARJ BIGGIN

One child Robert

Lot 1 Jellalabad Estate

After about four years of applying for land through the Soldier Settlement Commission, I received word to inspect Lot No. 1 on Jellalabad Estate at Darlington. This, I think, was my last choice in my original submission, but after a thorough inspection, I decided that apart from Rocks, Rabbits and Reptiles, the place had a lot of potential, and in the long term this proved to be so. Jellalabad, being one of the later estates to be settled, and the Commission having seen the hardships the earlier settlers had to endure with temporary housing, decided the first thing to be done was to erect a garage to be used as living quarters for a short period, as the houses were in the process of being built. Also in our case, an unmade road was opened up to give us access to our block, and at the same time it opened up a new access road to Mortlake for settlers and other residents in the Mount Fyans area.

On arriving on the block in April 1958, we got organised into two teams to erect the garage – this proved to be a great success, as "Many hands make short work." Anzac Day, 1958, saw the wood-stove cemented in, and a tank in place ready for the first rain. We moved into the garage early May, as our house was being built, and with the expectation of its completion within six months, we decided to do with very few home-comforts for this period. You've heard of the old saying "Stood out like a country dunny." Well ours did, in an open paddock, with four steel posts, a length of hessian about chest-high, and a sheet of galvanised iron for a roof – "air-conditioned on the cheap."

As on most settlements, very little fencing was in place, so it was a long haul to get boundary fencing erected and netted, and then came the daunting task of cleaning up the rabbit population. Mick Blain and I worked for weeks digging among the stone barriers, and along the stone fences, some days getting as many as a hundred rabbits. Finally, the rabbit inspector gave his okay. Next thing was to get some stock and look forward to getting some income, although this was rather meagre in the first years.

The 20 years we spent in the Darlington-Mortlake area was overall, a lot of hard work, but a very enjoyable and satisfying experience. We had excellent neighbours, and made many good friends, and one always knew in any emergency, there was someone near at hand to offer assistance. Although we have left the district, and now live in Ballarat, we still visit Mortlake and Darlington several times a year, and with the help of the "Mortlake Dispatch" passed on to us by another past resident living close by, we manage to keep up with the comings and goings, and ups and downs, of the Mortlake Shire, and its inhabitants.

Bob Biggin

*

Many of the settlers' wives I knew worked side by side with their husbands, and raised a family. I think those men were very lucky. Some also, in later years, lost their husbands but still carried on with their farms. My husband was not so lucky, as I was pretty useless, coming from the city, I always liked country-life but by that I mean mountains, trees, bush, etc., not flat open country where it always seemed to be windy (first impression.) Our early days living in a garage were not easy, no daily bath or shower, all we had was a baby bath, so we sponged down this and that – I guess we were reasonably clean. One day Bob had a very painful complaint and the doctor ordered him to sit in a warm bath daily, which was very difficult. Getting in was bad enough, but to get out was a big problem. I'm sorry I laughed at him. Our toilet wasn't the best invention, but with much practice we did manage it. It was only chest-high, the front faced open paddocks (no door) with back to road; one had to stand up to prepare oneself to back in; much easier getting out.

I managed to learn a lot of things in time – one was learning to swear properly. It seemed to me all the men had dogs by the same name, especially when working with sheep. I also learned to draft sheep, and am sure I caused a few to have brain-damage as I worked the gate. I was taught to steer the tractor (like a monster to me) so I was a big help with hay-carting. One day I was on the job, making sure I was picking up bales for Bob to stack onto trailer – it seems he thought he may fall off, so he jumped off instead, unknown to me, until my sister who was with me on the tractor – we were having a good old talk – suddenly said she couldn't see Bob; he was quite a distance behind, standing in the paddock watching and of course swearing.

If a cow looked at me, I was sure it was about to charge me. We had two at this time. Bob had to spend a short time in hospital, and our very good neighbour came to the rescue to milk the cows. He complained to me that one of the cows would not let down her milk for him – no wonder, as she was dry. Merv was a very good farmer apart from that. We had very good neighbours, and made many good friends, and we are glad we lived that way for the years we did. It wasn't always easy, but we have such a lot of happy memories.

Just one more little story of another good neighbour, J. C. His property adjoined ours. One day we saw him spreading his super, we could hear him whistling as he went on his merry way. Unbeknown to him, his spreader had become unattached to the tractor. It looked strange to see the super-spreader sitting in a paddock, while tractor and driver went on and on, just like my hay-carting job.

I guess they were the good old days, and as the saying goes "Life wasn't meant to be easy." Who said that? We knew it years ago.

Marj Biggin

*

GROWING UP ON MOUNT FYANS.

As a child growing up on the Mount Fyans Estate, certain events stuck in my mind. I can't remember living in the garage, an event my parents talk about, yet events that happened at that time – the horse and cart that Dad owned before we got a tractor – the snake that had Mum and me barricaded in the garage until Dad's return from the paddocks – are vivid.

The first day at school – the long trip in the Chambers car to school, and the even longer one on the Darlington West bus, Bobby Taylor's whistle at misbehaving kids and his threats to make them walk. And each time the bus broke down – the cheers from the kids at the expectation of being late for school, or even better, the chance to ride in the old Bedford bus – the one with the moss growing in the window surrounds and the metal bars on the seats (oh what a great place to put your teeth against.) Relieving bus drivers were great – none of them knew how to change the gears properly – oh, if Frank Seiver could have heard the sounds coming from the gear-box.

The farm itself brings early memories of the animals – the first group of pet lambs – "Daisy May," the pet lamb we kept for 14 years, the pet goat, its toilet-paper eating habits – various dogs and pups, "Skeets," "Joe," "Sailor," "Judy," "Rocky," "Butch," the list goes on and on – many of whom upon death were buried in graves, for which I built crosses.

I can remember not having electricity – the bath-heater, the copper, and the Tilley lantern. It was a treat to be allowed to pump up the Tilley lantern. We also had a battery-powered radio – the battery was a car type battery which sat on a tray below the radio. I can even remember once being allowed to stay up until 7.30 pm to listen to a radio serial – it depicted the war, I think. Electricity brought a few changes – a hot-water system arrived, the radiogram my parents owned could now be used. TV didn't come until about 1964, although some of the neighbours did own TVs, together with the huge aerials needed to pick up the Melbourne channels. I remember one outing to McRaes to watch TV. We set off, Dad, Mum and I in the ute (it always seemed cold when we were in the ute) and I can remember sitting around gazing at the TV set. Those assembled were most impressed, but I can remember seeing mostly snow, with a glimpse of a picture emerging every 10 to 15 minutes.

I can remember Dad emptying the can from the toilet. A strange thing to remember, you say – but this was a big chore. The hole to bury the contents of the can had to be dug. Dad often borrowed a post-hole digger for this job. This in itself meant a trip on the tractor. I used to enjoy getting into the newly-dig (but not filled) holes. I remember we lost a pup down one once (albeit temporarily.)

By Robert Biggin

*

MARSDEN AND JOCELYN BANKS

Two children Howard and Kathryn

Lot 2 "Karori-Lea," Darlington, 1958-84

In 1958 when we were allocated Lot 2 of "Jellalabad Estate," friends told us it was as good as winning Tatts. At times we wondered whether it wasn't more like a life sentence – 28 years hard labour! But at the end of that time we sold and came away with our prize of $200,000 odd.

What else did we come away with? Memories; great times and bad times; a constant struggle to make ends meet, but the privilege of living and bringing up our children on the land, close to nature, with all the pleasure and satisfaction that holds.

Before the block, we were both city born and bred, with a love of land. Marsden was in accountancy after the navy had finished with his services, and while working for the Rural Finance and Settlement Commission he decided to apply for a block. With my background of Mothercraft Nurse, Librarian, Telephonist, etc., and my love of horses, we added farming to our varied careers!

Early days living in the garage on the block were memorable. We had only one child so life was comparatively easy. Money was always desperately short, but rabbits were plentiful, and we had a monotonous diet of rabbits. To this day neither of us can stand the smell of cooking rabbit. It was always a battle to keep the cake tin full, but I dutifully baked in the hut. Our supervisor was an ex POW (and compulsive eater as a result) and I used to dread his visits. He would sweep in, in his car, driving over our treasured young trees struggling in the long grass, and proceed to eat his fill of home-baked cakes! All my hours of hard labour and precious wood down his red lane in a few minutes flat!

All this time we were waging war on the rabbits, and planting plantations. A few years later when our trees were providing shelter, and the washing was no longer being shredded on the clothes line by the infamous Western District winds, other settlers would say "You are lucky to have all that shelter!" We would laugh to ourselves – there was very little luck associated with getting plantations established. It was just hard work, and dogged perseverance.

The tree planting and keeping the farm in good order paid off, and when we made the snap decision to sell the farm and buy at St. Leonards, we made the sale of farm, plant and stock, and were living here six weeks later. Some sort of record I'm sure.

1986 finds us living at St. Leonards near Geelong. We have 20 acres, a few cattle, horses, hens, ducks, a dog and a cat; a good house and glorious view. We are still developing a garden and planting trees, as we have done wherever we have been over the past 30 years.

We are both very involved in selling Real Estate, and for exercise have at last taken up golf. We work six days a week, and the work is very demanding. The hours are almost as long as farming, but unlike farming it actually pays! Son Howard is working in Brisbane with an engineering firm, and daughter Kathryn is in England working with horses.

M. and J. M. Banks

*

ARTHUR STANLEY (MICK) AND DOREEN BLAIN

Four children Terry, Barry, Norman & Ken

Lot 3 Jellalabad Estate

I was born at Terang, and after leaving school, worked with my father on a dairy farm, until at the age of 25 I enlisted in the army, and was posted to the 2/8th infantry battalion, serving in Darwin, Queensland and New Guinea. After discharge, I worked on a sheep-station at MacArthur, and married from there. I worked for the same man for 12 years. During that time I kept applying for a sheep-block, and I got the first one I put in for on Jellalabad in April 1958. We had four sons; Terry 13 years, Barry 11, Norman nine and Ken one.

We had to build a garage to live in while the house was being built. When I got the block, I had an old Standard car – it was using nearly as much oil as petrol.

We moved into the garage some time in May and spent the next few months there – it was a bit crowded with four boys. I could think of better places to live during winter, but it wasn't for long, as we moved into the house in November, and as there was a transformer close by, had the power on quite soon.

I had to use the old car for carting fencing materials to the site – throw a few posts in the boot and drove over rough paddocks. I did all the fencing by hand, crowbar, and shovel, and brace and bit; it took some time, but it was good to see a few more chains up every day. When that was finished we had to get rid of the rabbits before getting stock. That wasn't too hard as there were very few on my block. Then I helped my two next-door neighbours to get rid of their rabbits for a few weeks, being paid by the Commission.

About this time the old car blew its top. I had to borrow money from the Commission to buy a second-hand car. Two-year-old Ken asked if this one would smoke. I also had to buy a tractor, plough, and disc-harrow as there was a lot of work to be done ploughing and sowing to pasture, that took quite a few years.

We started off with 250 ewes, and built up from there. I also milked about 15 cows to help the budget.

Although we had to work hard over the years, it was well worth it.

In July 1985, I decided to sell the block, as the fences were getting old and needed replacing. I was too old for that sort of work. I now live in Darlington.

Mick Blain

*

ISABELLE AND ERIC CUMMING

Lot 4 Jellalabad Estate

Eric was born in 1923, grew up at Acheron, attended Primary School and High School at Alexandra, where in later years, "Cumming House," was named in his honour. He worked on the family farm "Graggan" and returned there after being in the AIF. His experience on the farm and a course at Dookie College gave him a good grounding in Agriculture.

He excelled in many fields of athletics including boxing, football, sheaftossing, woodchopping, tossing the caber, as well as being a runner of note. He was a professional and won many top races also coming second in the Stawell Gift in 1946. His crowning achievement was in 1952, when he won the famous Powderhall New Year Sprint in Edinburgh Scotland, and made history by being the first overseas runner to win the event. Later the Mayor of Footscray gave Eric a Civic Reception to honour him for his success at Powderhall.

After marrying me, Isabelle Woolley, in Scots Church, Melbourne in 1954, we settled in Winchelsea and worked on the land for three years. We had our first child, Eric while at Winchelsea. In 1958 the family moved to Darlington, where we were allotted Lot 4 on Jellalabad, and called our block "Claymore." We had moved from Winchelsea with a David Brown tractor, a four wheeled tractor and a Dodge station wagon and a two wheeled trailer, all of these were used to advantage to establish our block.

Eric was a member of the Darlington RSL, he was always keen on sport, and helped train and run the school sports, as well as local football clubs. He played with Footscray in the VFL, and was appointed coach of Port Fairy in 1953. We were blessed with three more children, Heather, Hamish and Jeanette, who were schooled at Darlington Primary and Derrinallum High. They recall the occasional treat of a jam tart from the baker who delivered our bread. They had special fond memories of the annual RSL Christmas tree, with its close fellowship and always the scrumptious supper.

Eric died suddenly on 23rd February 1964. The children and I remained on "Claymore." I managed the farm with the help of local and other friends, till the children grew old enough to take over some of the burden.

Eric (Jnr.) is an Ambulance Officer, Heather and Jeanette both took up Nursing, Hamish is a Mechanical Engineer.

Looking back at the early days of the settlers, one thing that stands out is the way in which the men helped each other by sharing their knowledge, labour and equipment. In this way they kept expenses down and formed many lasting friendships. The closer settlement of land led to the eradication of rabbits and increased stocking levels.

Isabelle Cumming, Edited by Merv McRae

*

I have nothing but admiration for these women who battled on and kept their family and farm together after losing their husbands, Isabelle in particular, as she had four young children.

Comment Merv McRae

*

BRETT AND JOAN GRAY

Lot 5 Jellalabad Estate

Before and after the war I was working on Ned's Corner Station, some 160,000 acres near Mildura, as a Station hand and horse breaker.

I came from a family of 11 brothers and one sister; six brothers were in the army, three getting blocks in the area.

In 1957 I was allotted a block of 550 acres at Darlington adjoining my brother Roy. I came in my 1946 Chev. ute with two sheep dogs, saddle, bridle, two camp ovens, fencing gear and a few Mallee sticks. I was single then and lived in the Jellalabad shearing huts; and would milk a cow and carry milk half a mile to Roy and Pat's where I had my meals. They were living in a garage for the first 12 months.

On one occasion I was walking through the grass and came across what I thought were snakes, only to find out later the builders had got some eels out of the creek. I had never seen eels before and I thought they were black snakes.

We fenced our block with an old Twin City tractor and post hole digger. On more than one occasion there was a big frost and the tractor radiator was frozen into a block of ice – we would have to wait until it was thawed out.

It was a very wet year and the builders were getting bogged trying to get the materials into the house sites as there were no made roads.

I later married, and we moved into our own house in 1959.

There were rabbits everywhere. A chap came looking for a job. I gave him a shovel and told him to go down to the creek and dig those rabbits out. An hour later he arrived back and said, "You must think I'm mad. They are out everywhere. What do I want to dig them out for?" Believe it or not!

Bert Gray

*

LYLE AND ELSPETH BUNTINE

Lot 8 Jellalabad Estate

"EARLY DAYS ON OUR SELECTION."

Living in a caravan, it almost blew over in a wind-storm; we towed it into the lee of the garage. When it began to get damp, turning the bed-clothes mouldy, we moved into the garage, damp concrete being preferable.

Baths in front of the stove in the baby bath, kero-heater alongside; over to Trebine once or twice a week for a luxury of real bathrooms and fittings.

The bull drinking the water in the wash-trough, and keeping the fowls, calf, and pet lamb out of the garage with a step-over barrier. It worked some of the time.... Lyle threw a kero-tin of hot water after the bull to keep him away; luckily it did not affect his prowess.

The two "New Australian" builders completed our house a little ahead of time because they feared that my twin pregnancy might be infectious.

Startled looks from passers-by when they saw me on the little Fergy tractor attempting to extricate the truck loaded with plaster. My maternity suit fitted rather snugly, and was set off by the inevitable gum-boots. In fact, even driving the Ford ute became something of a problem.

We moved into the house ten days prior to the arrival of the twins. No electricity for the first two years, then it was rather an on/off set-up, the kero lamps were kept handy.

Money being in short supply, the Lord favoured us with a good supply of rabbits, and the first autumn gave us a record crop of mushrooms; that with home-grown eggs, milk and cream let us live very nicely.

Norm Lumsden bringing us loads of fence-posts from Snake Valley, the building inspector who felt unwell, and was dead before his off-sider got him to Camperdown.

Charlie Buerkner coming out to "supervise" in his kindly way.

Adrian Cole took our first load of wool to Geelong, all 15 bales.

After a few years, we advanced to a septic tank. Mum was allowed to have first use; this lost nothing in the telling for "Morning talk," Mrs. Lade being the teacher.

Getting rid of the rabbits was a saga; smoke bombs to find all the outlets from the warrens, and the excitement when a fox emerged in a hurry, "Catch it, Mummy." Not likely, as the twins were only a few weeks off. Then 1080 arrived, and after a few tries, we had a good kill, but lost Bill's corgi to it; he followed Lyle, and licked up a few oats before he was noticed.

Tree-planting was a never-ending annual chore - not much success in the early years, due to the wind, and also the magpies' trick of snipping off the tops. The garden received lots of encouragement, plus the bath and washing water.

Our Ford ute did valiant service, becoming rather full as the family increased, the twins on the wide back ledge, Bill on my knee, and Jeanie in the basket, it makes one shudder in this age of seatbelts.

Early shearings with the twins in the play-pen in the corner of the paddock. I drove the tractor whilst Lyle threw the bales onto the trailer. That was when the weather used to be hot as early as November.

Elspeth Buntine

*

BILL AND PAT GLEESON

Eight children Maureen, Kathleen, Margaret, Patrick, Peter, Helen, Bill, and Shane

Lot 9 Jellalabad Estate

I was reared on a mixed farm at Clarendon, 13 miles from Ballarat. Educated there, and at 18, spent four years in the RAAF. After discharge, I attended Dookie, where I obtained my Diploma of Agriculture in 1948. I joined the Soil Conservation Authority, and was District Officer for the Upper Goulburn area. I married in 1950 and we lived in Alexandra. After eight years I resigned to work on a farm to increase my points to obtain a block.

Two years later I was allotted Lot 9 on Jellalabad. April 1985 we arrived and were installed in a cottage, on loan at Jellalabad, together with our four children, till our house was finished. The first years was spent fencing, rabbiting, building a bridge and spreading super. (40 tons supplied by the Commission.) The second year, power was connected, the dairy was built and we milked 14 cows to make ends meet. I purchased 200 Merino ewes and 300 wethers. The soil responded well to 50 tons of super spread each year. By 1965 our family had increased to four boys and four girls. They attended Darlington Primary and Derrinallum High Schools.

Drought years in 1967 and again in 1982 were a set back. The windy plains and overcast skies were strange at first and made us long for the sunny "Benalla" days.

Darlington is still home; although the family is spread far and wide.

Bill and Pat Gleeson

*

ROY AND PAT GRAY

Four children Julie, Margaret, James and Kaye

Lot 10 Jellalabad Estate - 1958-1987

I was share farming on my father's property at Morkalla (70 miles North West of Mildura) when I received a letter stating that I had been allotted the above block. I came down in early 1958 and helped erect the garages and Pat and baby came down when that was completed. We were fortunate in comparison to early settlers as the houses on this estate were being built and were finished in October and we moved into ours in November 1958.

Rabbits were a problem at first, but by using 1080 poison carrots and ripping the burrows, we soon cleaned most of them out.

Brother Bert was allotted an adjoining block, so we worked together fencing, etc., and it was a big saving as only one farming plant was required. Super was cheap in the early years, so we applied on bag per acre for 12 years and the land responded well – we soon eradicated the tussocks and picked the stones and got pasture sown, plus cropping to level off paddocks as it was very rough; we now carry four Merino cheep per acre. Our early transport was a 1948 Chev. Ute, but as the family grew a station wagon had to be purchased.

The animals we brought down from up North were one pony, one house cow, one sheep dog and 300 Merino ewes. On looking back, one must admit that the Soldier Settlement Commission did a great job settling so many ex-servicemen on the land, who otherwise would have never had a chance (or finance) of procuring a property in this area.

Roy Gray

## Chapter 11

1959, GEDDES' AND MORRISON'S ESTATE.

Lot 1 A. G. Hamilton, 555 Acres.

Lot 2 L. Perrett, 535 Acres.

Lot 3 C. R. Gladman, 540 Acres.

Lot 4 E. W. Symonds, 560 Acres

Lot 5 J. W. Lavery, 570 Acres.

Lot 6 M. M. Wentworth, 570 Acres.

Lot 7 J. W. Thomas, 555 Acres.

Lot 8 A. A. Gill, 550 Acres.

Lot 9 R. J. Rogash, 560 Acres.

Lot 10 I. D. Moroney, 560 Acres.

Lot 11 G. Proctor, 590 Acres.

Lot 12 A. D. Tonkin, 570 Acres.

Explanatory Notes:

A chain is equivalent to 66 feet, or 20.12 meters. 1 square mile = 640 acres = 259 hectares

ARTHUR AND JOAN HAMILTON

Two children Karen and Rohan

Lot 1 Geddes' and Morrison's Estate

From Coonooer Bridge via St. Arnaud, we arrived at Lot 1 Geddes'-Morrison's Estate, Darlington Road, Mortlake, on 30th May 1960. We were very lucky as our settlement was the first to have houses completed, ready to move into. We had a son 15 months and a daughter three years and three months, so luck was with us. The house sat in a 400 acre paddock with a fence consisting of three barbed wires and steel posts to keep out stock. SEC power arrived five years after we moved in. The year we moved in was one of the wettest on record, and it was six months before we got our final lot of furniture down.

The house cow was milked at a make-shift bail attached to the fence at the side of the road, and at times we wondered if we would lose the milk bucket in mud. It was great when dairies with cement floors were erected before the following winter. After a year or two, the farm was divided smaller paddocks.

The thing I remember most was having friends for the evening and their children being fascinated with the kerosene lanterns and lamps used on the meal table. They still talk about it after all these years.

During lambing, foxes played havoc with the lambs so lanterns were put out at night. One very dark, wet night, I went to put the lanterns out and went to go home, only to find that I was hopelessly lost in a 40 acre paddock; so I had to find my way to the fence and walk along it to a gate, then sheds and home. We stayed farming until 1st December 1979 when Colin McLeod took over and we tried the easy life in Ballarat after a great, if not hard life, on the farm at Mortlake.

Arthur and Joan Hamilton

*

CHARLIE AND JOYCE GLADMAN

Three children Ken, Elizabeth and Ronald

Lot 3 Geddes' and Morrison's Estate

"DARLINGTON ROAD RECOLLECTION"

Some seven years have passed since we left our Soldier Settlement block at Darlington Road, Mortlake, but on recollection, the memories soon flow back and fill us with a sense of achievement and happiness.

We will never forget the barren sight – the house, the toilet – as we pulled up on the road on a June morning in 1960. "What were we doing here?" we wondered. The adventure had just begun.

We had driven over flooded roads on our journey from Winchelsea, and believe me, Mortlake was no different. We had to leave the car and trucks parked on the road and walk the 100 yards to our new castle.

It was weeks before we were able to park the vehicles by the house. The tractor was able to make the short journey, luckily, as we had to tow the furniture van to and from the house.

Our sheep arrived that same day, but there was a problem – our only paddock was right at the back of the property, some mile and a half away. To make matters worse, it was almost dark. All farmers would realize the difficulty of driving sheep at the best of times, let alone over that distance through grass to our waists, water to our knees, and in the dark! But somehow we managed.

Time passed, the fences went up, the sheds were erected and the farm began to take on a sense of organisation. My garden began to take shape. Pests were prevalent – crows picked out sheep's eyes, flies struck, cockatoos took our seed-grain from the ground, foxes took our hens and ducks, and Charlie Avery was frequently to be found in our strawberry patch.

Shearing was the main event each year. Charlie shore his sheep himself initially, it was years before he would trust someone else not to cut his sheep! Eventually Geoff Carroll and Harry Blacker became part of the establishment, although they were always watched with a keen eye.

It's impossible to expand on all the memories, but others which come to mind – everyone pitching in through good times and bad – the Characters – all our neighbours around us – our children's school-days.

One thing is for sure, we will never regret the experience of our 20 years at Darlington Road, Mortlake.

By Joyce Gladman

*

EDWARD (TED) W. AND BETTY SYMONDS

Two children Desmond and Bronwyn

Lot 4 Geddes' and Morrison's Estate

We were farming in the hills at Foster in 1959 when we were notified that a block had been allocated to us on Geddes' and Morrison's Estate with 11 others at Mortlake.

As we had sold our property, with excitement and great expectations, we arrived at Darlington with our two children – Des aged nine and Bronwyn five, to the great open plains of the Western District to a dry spring and hot weather in October 1959.

Started working for the Commission, boundary riding on the Estate while waiting to move onto the block, moved into our new house in April 1960, just as the Autumn break came; it was said at Foster it rained for six months and dripped off the trees for six months, but at Mortlake it just rained.

All the settlers moved onto their blocks early June 1960, boundary fencing number one priority under trying conditions, wet and boggy and windy, always stone where a strainer post had to go, resorted to gelignite; powder-monkey had trouble blasting under water, so a few exciting misfires; at times we were pulling wire knee-deep bare-footed in ice-cold water across swamps. One of the neighbours came to work with several pull-overs on, as he warmed up pulling wire, discarded them along the fence line, then in the late afternoon had to go looking for them.

Bogged the old Fordson tractor many times, lost tools in the mud, later on put a trailer load of posts under a crawler tractor to get out of a bog, the posts would still be there buried.

Then came the time-consuming job of chasing sales, looking and buying suitable sheep and cows on a rising market.

Our first attempt at growing wind-breaks was unsuccessful, planted gum trees in tubes in the morning, returned next day to find the magpies had pulled them all up, it was the first time we had seen magpies build nests and rear their young in tussocks.

The planting of Lambertianas was successful under wet and windy winters and dry hot summers, especially around the house and sheds; as the trees grew the gardens and shrubs flourished,

Breaking in the first house cow running in a big paddock was the cause of much laughter for three members of the family, as the cow was on a long rope; yours truly went to yard the cow, but somehow managed to get one foot tangled in the rope; cow took off at great speed dragging me feet first over the thistles and stones, saved by man's best friend (sheep dog.)

Looking back over the 25 years at Mortlake, lots of hard work, fun, many happy memories, good neighbours and a sense of achievement.

Betty and Ted Symonds

*

JOE AND NELL LAVERY

Five children Pauline, Tom, Marie, Billy and Katie

Lot 5 Geddes' and Morrison's Estate

Joe was unfortunate in losing his wife Nell at the age of 38 years. Neighbours did their best to assist him to care for his five children.

Joe and all his family have now left the district, but are still fondly remembered by old friends and family.

*

MICK AND IRIS WENTWORTH

Three children Peter, Bruce and Ian

Lot 6 Geddes' and Morrison's Estate

I was allocated Lot 6 on Geddes' and Morrison's Estate in 1959, but due to the lack of good spring rains that year, coupled with poor stock prices, the Commission could not satisfactorily dispose of the stock running on the property, and delayed our occupation date. After several false starts we were advised that we could move in at the end of May 1960. The delay was fortunate in one way, as the house was completed and we were able to move straight in. We received a letter from our estate supervisor a few days before we were to leave, advising us to bring our gum-boots as there had been 16 inches of rain in the last six weeks, and it was still raining! Don Black (an ex-airforce friend) who ran a trucking business with his brother in nearby Seymour, offered to transport us to the block the following weekend. This suited us fine, and saved us quite a few dollars as Don and his brother, who assisted in the operation, even refused to let me chip in for the fuel.

We had arranged to load up at 6.00am on Saturday, but the rain started during the night and was coming down in buckets. Later in the morning it eased enough to enable us to load up and get on our way. The 1936 Pontiac (with fully laden tractor attached) and three small boys in the back seat amongst all the odds and ends that wouldn't fit anywhere else, left Tallarook and headed for Mortlake. The strong westerly wind and showers made the trip slow and tedious and we eventually arrived about 9.30pm. It was pitch black and still windy and showery.

Picking up the key from neighbour Ted Symonds, who had moved onto his block a few weeks previously, we headed off down the newly-formed lane to try to find the house. This proved to be a bit more difficult than we had thought; we missed the house on the first run down the dead-end lane, and were lucky not to get bogged turning around, but were successful on the return journey.

The house was five chains off the road, and the track in, made by bulldozers, was hard to follow as it wound in and out of dead stumps of an old blue-gum plantation. We managed to get the car and trailer down to the house, swung around and backed up to the door, then down to the axles it went, hopelessly bogged in our front-lawn-to-be.

We unloaded the truck while Iris tried out the new stove with the dry firewood, we had the forethought to bring with us. All was going well until a strange smell came from the kitchen, and on opening the oven door, out billowed a foul cloud of smoke. On closer inspection, the charred remains of a flue brush and what appeared to be a book of instructions was discovered. An hour later, with the truck unloaded and a hot cup of tea inside us, we decided to do something about getting the truck back on the road. With a shovel and a few short pieces of timber left by the builders, we managed to shift it a few feet, but gave up and went back to Ted Symonds to borrow the tractor he had told us was available. This operation proved successful, and Don headed for home in the early hours of Sunday morning. The car was parked on the road for the next few months, as the track was so badly cut up with the night's activities.

The first job of putting up a couple of miles of boundary fence was pretty difficult – walk half a mile home for lunch and carry a coil of fencing-wire on your back on the return journey. Robert Jamieson of Stony Point offered the loan of a sledge to cart all the material out to the fence-line. With Ted Symond's crawler-tractor, it was a much more satisfactory method than the two-wheeled trailer which continually got bogged down.

Most of us had our boundary-fences completed and a good deal of internal fencing done in time to purchase sheep at the off-shears sales in the district. Most of the settlers milked cows for the first few years, mainly to receive a monthly cream-cheque, not because they liked milking cows. A local contractor won a tender to erect several dairies on the estate, mine being one of them. The gentleman working alone did not appear to be in a great hurry to get the job done and was making fairly slow progress. I was getting a little concerned because I had purchased twelve springing heifers a few months earlier, and they were getting close to calving. To speed things up a bit, I decided to give him a hand and at last he got to the stage where he was ready to mix the concrete for the floors and holding yards. The contractor was not too keen on mixing concrete, and he arranged for a neighbour, Joe Lavery and yours truly to do the mixing job and he would do the levelling. The offer of five pounds a day seemed to be a good proposition so we accepted the job – little did we know he had no intention of paying us. The first heifer calved about the same time the dairy was finished, but how we got her into the bail to milk her with no fences up to the yards is another story.

The 12 settlers and their families had a big impact on the area. With 35 children to be transported to school, an extra bus had to be put on the round. The local Wooriwyrite fire-brigade operated by a few land-owners and their employees benefited greatly from the influx of new members. The only equipment in those days was half-a-dozen knapsacks and hand-beaters. Today this is a very efficient fire-brigade, with a well-equipped CFA tanker, brigade-owned tanker, quickfill pump and a two-way radio network second to none. The base station in Mortlake operated by Jack and Eileen Wynd for many years (until Jack's death) developed into an almost 24 hour service and was one of the main reasons why the area was free of major fires. Extensive burning-off operations are carried out every year.

Things went along smoothly for a few years, and just when it looked like the next wool-cheque would put us on Easy Street, the 1964 credit-squeeze arrived.

A couple of years on, things were looking up again, one more good wool cheque and we had it made! But alas, what did we get? The 1967-68 drought. The settlers survived the drought more easily than most because they knew how to tighten their belts. The poor stock prices after the drought were a bit hard to take, followed by the slump in wool prices in the early 70's. In the middle 70's, due to the boom in wool prices, we had the thrill of our first new car, all the others had been pre-loved by several other people.

Things progressed slowly though the 70's, and in 1979 the opportunity came to purchase more land nearby. We bought 320 acres, and eldest son Peter 234 acres next door. Guess what – two big paddocks with no sub-division and a mile of fencing to erect before it could be stocked. It was a bit like starting over again, but we were better equipped this time and had it fenced and sub-divided in no time.

With our three boys well entrenched in good jobs, we decided to sell out in 1983. I'm quite sure it was that decision that brought the drought. This postponed the possibility of selling that year, but 1984 saw things return to normal. We sold the property to Wal and Dorothy Carey and built our house on a block of land we owned at Port Fairy and retired there.

Altogether it was an experience we wouldn't missed for the world as we made good friends, especially in the early years.

Mick and Iris Wentworth.

*

ALBERT AND LENA GILL

Lot 8 Geddes' and Morrison's Estate

The Gill family came from Casterton to Darlington towards the end of May 1960. We had eight in the family but by the time we left Casterton, the older members were finding their wings. Patricia had been transferred from the Casterton Post Office to North Melbourne. Veronica had joined the RAAF and Margaret was interested in Nursing. So we arrived with Pauline and the four boys: John, Terry, Neville and Chris aged three years.

We missed none of the trials of shifting house and arrived late afternoon in the rain, back to the kerosene lamps, a few beds scattered in what appeared to be a house full of unpacked boxes and a truck bogged at the front of the house. But there was one bright note, a very large baking dish containing a cooked leg of lamb surrounded by vegetables which had been presented to us as we passed through Mortlake. A much appreciated gift from the McCormack family at the CBC Bank.

It was a very wet year, at least we had a house, not a garage, but there was no driveway, the car had to remain on the Darlington Road; after climbing through a wire fence we balanced on planks to reach the house. It was all right coming in but Mum held her breath on Sunday mornings as the five walked the planks in the one and only Sunday best.

There were not many years as wet as 1960 and in time the pot holes were filled in and a few things planted. It was nice to look out the windows in the spring but the summer was another story.

We had waited a long time for the block, which seemed a good idea at the time, but the whole world scene soon changed and there were some second thoughts, but it was a good place to rear four boys.

Looking back over the 20 years, I feel the time was spent just facing the ordinary, everyday things as they came. The school bus left at 8.00 am and returned at 4.30 pm. There were work days, sales days and sport days, which reminds me of people like Dorothy Reichman and the Robertson family who gave a lot of time to the youth of Darlington. There were the usual births and marriages, not forgetting the sad times when we lost friends like Min Tonkin, Nell Lavery, Jean Hickey, Charlie Gladman and Peter Cotter.

The Community spirit was alive and well when the 12 families came from all over the state of Victoria to take up life on the Geddes' and Morrison's Estate. There was no such thing as getting to know each other. There was work to be done, drive-ways to be built, which were really appreciated. The same spirit of friendship and co-operation continued throughout the years until the time came for us to move on again. Our house has gone, also a number of friends, but the memories of our time spent with the Darlington people will linger on.

Albert and Lena Gill

*

ROY AND LORNA ROGASH

Three children Ken, Dianne and Janette

Lot 9 Geddes' and Morrison's Estate

The thing I most remember about living on "Tarcombe" was the farm itself. To us it was as big as Dad. Dad worked for someone else before he actually owned the 571 acres which was special to him.

As most children on farms, we didn't like having to help with the work load, but now, looking back on it all, it wasn't really work.

At harvest time, if the hay-carters were late, we would all get in and help. Either by driving the tractor or by actually loading and stacking the bales in the shed.

Dipping time was another good time when all hands were on deck. Penning the sheep, also plunging them was hard, but even though some got stuck, we would try to do our best again.

Living so far from town (10 miles) seemed like 100 miles as children. We felt we never had the pleasures of going swimming or to parties at our friends' houses. But at Christmas and New Year, we used to have quite a good dance in the shearing shed. Decorations would go up, dancing, as many of the neighbouring friends would fill the shed.

People talking, laughing, tables of food, plenty to do and enjoy each other's company.

The next day back to work, cleaning the shed while Mum and Dad sorted out what lay ahead of them in the next few weeks.

Living in town now as I do; married with my own three children, I only wish that there wasn't so much hardship for the farmers as there is. I, myself would love my children to experience what we went through.

In our family there will always be a bond with "Tarcombe."

Dad's not here to share it with us, but it's in our memories and our hearts.

Dianne Williams (Rogash)

*

ROY AND LORNA ROGASH

Lot 9 Geddes' and Morrison's Estate

In the beginning I remember mostly mud, mud and more mud. I used to carry baby Janette on my front and four year old Dianne on my back, three-quarters of a mile across the paddocks to the original homestead where I milked cows, fed calves, chooks and dogs, then trudged home again with the babies, plus milk and eggs. I wonder now how I did it, but I was young and strong.

I remember a lot of hard work, but also a lot of fun.

I recall the time I was on the tractor – we were boring post-holes and Roy instructed me to come closer to the drain. There was a six feet drop, and I tipped over. When I came to, in pain, and waist deep in water, I could hear Roy moaning, "My poor bloody tractor."

Eight year old Ken ran to our neighbours, the Proctors, for help and I was taken to the doctor in Mortlake who diagnosed shock and a sprain. Three weeks later it was discovered that I had a broken ankle and knee.

I remember some great New Year's Eve parties when people came from all over. Now living in Ballarat, I still miss the country life which I loved.

Lorna Rogash

*

IRIS AND FRANK MORONEY

Eleven children Kathleen, Francis, Carmel, Jack, Eileen, Loretto, Bryan, Kevin, Michael, Rosemarie and Paul

Lot 10 Geddes' and Morrison's Estate

Frank and Iris Moroney arrived at Darlington from Koroit in June 1960 to become "Settlers" on Geddes' and Morrison's Estate.

Ten of their eleven children have left the district to study or work, seven are now married.

They considered themselves fortunate in having an established house to move into, particularly as they already had five children. Being the only house on the settlement with a telephone, they had the pleasure of plenty of visitors.

Iris was not new to Soldier Settlement, her father being a Settler from the First World War in the Avoca area.

"Since coming here we have had happy times and some sad, plenty of work and the worry of keeping going during the drought, but for all that, no real regrets."

Iris Moroney.

*

GEORGE AND MARY PROCTOR

Two children Janice and Shirley

Lot 11 Geddes' and Morrison's Estate

Before I was allotted a block, we lived at Cressy. I was born at Lismore and lived all my life at Cressy, working on farms in the district. My wife was a West Australian before the war. In 1947 we rented a small farm and ran a few head of cattle. In 1960 we were lucky enough to be allotted a block on Geddes' Estate near Darlington. We received notification in January, but didn't get possession until June. The house was already built but we had to do all the fencing. That year was very wet, and we had to use a crawler tractor to lay out posts. When we were moving in, it was very boggy so we called on the neighbours to haul in the truck load of furniture with their tractor. Until we had a truck made, we had to leave the car near the road and carry our groceries to the house.

Looking back over the years, it was all worth while.

Now retired, living in Warrnambool. Two children, Janice and Shirley, both married living nearby.

George and Mary Proctor

*

ARTHUR TONKIN

Lot 12 Geddes' and Morrison's Estate

I was born at Donald (my parents had a wheat-farm in the Jeffcott district) one of a family of eight. I finished my schooling at the end of 1930 in the midst of a series of bad years and low prices. Living conditions were not good, and money scarce; but worst of all was the obvious approach of another World War.

Following training at Seymour and Balcombe, we were sent to a camp near Darwin for jungle training, and among other things, to work on an air-strip. In March 1942, I was injured during an air-raid, and after a period of hospitalisation was eventually discharged as medically unfit and returned home to convalesce. During the early 1950's I accumulated a bit of farming gear and started share-farming in the Glenthompson area, and in mid 1959 was advised of my successful application for land settlement.

We took up our block on the Terang-Darlington Road at the end of May 1960. Friends helped us to move from Glenthompson, and it wasn't a very inviting sight on arrival, a house surrounded by mud and water, but at least a house to live in. We had to take our belongings in from the road by tractor and trailer, each trip on a different track.

As farmers, all starting out in similar plight, we worked in groups to erect fences and garages. As the water disappeared, the snakes appeared, some 60 odd being disposed of during our first year of occupancy. The early years were pretty severe, with most work being done with little machinery, but plenty of hard manual labour. With David, the eldest of my four children, still on the farm with me, it is pleasing to enjoy the results of that hard work. On looking back over the years, I feel the highs and lows have levelled out, but I think life could have been made easier for the settlers and their families.

Arthur Tonkin

## Chapter 12

1950, MYRNGRONG ESTATE

Lot 1 H. H. Bufton, 700 Acres.

Lot 2 A. H. Marshman, 750 Acres.

Lot 3 W. S. Murray, 900 Acres.

Lot 4 J. S. Kidman, 700 Acres.

Lot 5 A. Scott, 595 Acres.

Lot 6 D. W. Gray, 565 Acres.

Lot 7 E. P. Brewer, 530 Acres.

Lot 8 L. C. Wentworth, 650 Acres.

Lot 9 A. G. McLennan, 558 Acres.

Also in this chapter: Lloyd and Linda Grills, Trebine Estate.

Explanatory Notes

1 mile = 1.6 kms

BILL AND MONA MARSHMAN

Three children Beth, Robyn and Peter

Lot 2 Myrngrong Estate

Athol Hughie Marshman (Bill) travelled down to the block from Ouyen, driving his tractor and pulling a four-wheeled trailer behind with various farming implements. His wife and children joined him later when the garage was erected. He worked like the other settlers, sowing down portion of his block and fencing it off into the seven paddocks.

A few years later he disposed of his block and went to Warracknabeal. He was in a business (service-station,) but two or three years later he passed on.

(A neighbour we will never forget.)

Nance Wentworth

*

GERRY AND NELL MURRAY

One child Gillian

Lot 3 Myrngrong Estate

We were living on a few acres at Sutherlands Creek in the Geelong district when Gerry received notice of his allocation of Lot 3 on "Myrngrong," and moved there during 1959 – a very dry year. He arrived in an old Oldsmobile truck, plus three dogs and a few stores, to camp in a disused cottage near the Myrngrong wool-shed. Joe Wentworth, Hedley Bufton, Ted Scott and a Scotsman named Alex were also there.

When the huts, or garages as they now are, were built, I arrived there, plus the extra necessities for eating and sleeping – also two horses and another dog. The extreme changes in the weather seem to be one of our most vivid memories whilst in the hut. However, we endured the temporary inconveniences for just six months and moved into our house in the middle of nowhere, just before Christmas. Tree-planting was a week-end pastime, as we had very few of these and none in sight!

The following year was a wet one, when it was not even possible to walk a horse over the un-improved pasture. Our car, and the woodheap stayed on the side of the so-called road that winter, and rubber-boots were the fashionable foot-wear!

Gradually we acquired some merino ewes, and eventually had our first wool-clip of 15 bales! We experienced some amusing incidents, mostly caused by things going wrong. Being bogged was quite a usual one, but not always funny!

However, all was survived and now the place is leased to our daughter Gillian and her husband. Gerry and I are still residing here.

Gerry and Nell Murray

*

JIM AND JOAN KIDMAN

Six children Peter (dec,) Vicki, Diane, Lynne, Anne and Julie

Lot 4 Myrngrong Estate

Named "Ten Corners" because of the ten corners in the boundary fence.

Both Mallee born and bred, we appreciate the greener pastures, but the winter winds worried us for a while. During the first stage of development of the Estate, the men batched in the cottage and shearers' quarters.

The Soldier Settlement Commission concept of getting the Myrngrong Estate off the ground was good. Machinery from the Simpson project was used to plough and sow down large areas of the blocks. The machinery was operated by the settlers under the supervision of Bill Guild and Alec, the man responsible for all the machinery, but given no power to enforce proper care. He was eventually sacked because some of the machinery was damaged. In actual fact, he did his job well in that situation. Later, when some moved into garages, we, along with the Brewers and Stewart McLennan, set up house in the shearers' quarters until ours was ready.

Our first winter in our home was marred by the realization that it was built in a small swamp, and stood in a few inches of water for much of the winter. This necessitated considerable drainage and filling. Looking back I think we had a much easier time than the earlier settlers who were the real pioneers of a very good scheme.

The loss of our only son Peter in a road accident upset many of our hopes and plans. We are lucky to have five daughters. Twins Vicki and Diane; Lynne, Anne and Julie. All married and have families of their own. Twelve grandchildren to date. Three of them boys. Perhaps there is a farmer among them if us oldies can last the distance.

Jim and Joan Kidman

*

TED AND MONA SCOTT

Three children Maree, Terese and Robert

Lot 5 Myrngrong Estate

Mona and Ted Scott came from Neilborough near Bendigo, being allotted Lot 5 on Myrngrong after the original applicant got cold feet. Ted arrived in June 1959 and worked with the sowing down crew. Mona was occupied at that time with Maree, three and a half years and Terese six weeks. Robert was born in Mortlake four years later.

We lived in "the old house," as we have always called it, for three months. It was the mail centre for the settlement so I was lucky and often had callers.

Maree and Terese are married now and Robert is a tradesman in the Bendigo Ordnance factory. We first arrived here in a Holden ute and it is still up in the paddock.

Ted and Mona Scott

*

DOUG AND YVONNE GRAY

Lot 6 Myrngrong Estate

Prior to coming onto my block on Myrngrong, I was share-farming with my brother at Meringur, 60 miles west of Mildura, growing wheat and running sheep. At that time I was single, so didn't have many possessions to bring with me in my Chev ute. It was a long trip, 360 miles; I was one mile from Woorndoo when a strange noise came from the motor. I had just stopped when a mechanic from Woorndoo garage came along testing a car. He said to drive slowly to the garage, where it was found a piston-top had broken off, so they pulled the motor apart. I rang Watson's store at Darlington; they took a message to brother Roy's place and he came to collect me.

Coming onto Soldier Settlement wasn't as strange to me as to most settlers, as I had five brothers already settled and had put in a lot of time with them starting their blocks off. From their experiences I got some good advice, one being that we could supply our own box and iron-bark posts at an extra $12 per hundred, so all my division fencing and some boundary have box posts and are in top condition, whereas the messmate and stringy-bark are already rotted off. My brothers Roy and Bert were settled on Jellalabad a year before I came, so I stayed with them the first year until my house was finished. I batched for two years before marrying Yvonne – she had lived at Meringur where her mother had been a school-teacher for ten years before retiring to Port Fairy.

Doug Gray

*

ERNIE AND DORIS BREWER

Two children Norman and Sue

Lot 7 Myrngrong Estate

We were allotted a block at Myrngrong Estate in March 1959 – I well remember the day, as it was on our return to the District sports at Mortlake that my sister-in-law, Lorna Brewer, who was post mistress at the Darlington Post Office at the time, told us there was an important looking letter from the Soldier Settlement Commission in our mail – there followed great excitement after what seemed like an eternity of unsuccessful attempts to be allotted a piece of soil which we hoped one day we would own. Here was the beginning of it all!

Ernie came from the dairy country near Camperdown and my parents, the sheep and cattle country at Dundonnell – after we were married, we worked for Gerald Cumming and then for Keith Calvert, both from the Darlington area, so we were lucky to be allotted a block in our own area. Until the trees grew up around the house, I could see "Rocklea," my father's farm at Dundonnell from my front verandah.

We moved onto our block in May 1959 and lived quite comfortably in the shearers' quarters, along with Jim Kidman and Stewart McLennan for several carefree months until our homes were finished. We fully realized that we were luckier than earlier settlers who were forced to live in more cramped conditions for several years. But then "home is where the heart is" and some have reported happy experiences in their "units."

We explored our block – one large paddock of 530 acres fenced on two sides with a lovely sugar-gum plantation which has provided us with wonderful open fire-place fires in the winter for 27 years. After a hard and tiring day's work, the fire always provided comfort and peace.

Eagerly we planned where fences and gate-ways would be – where we would plant pines and cypress for quick shelter as the wind out here on the plains seem to be so much stronger and colder than in the rises at Dundonnell!

We planned a design for a back yard and what trees and shrubs we would plant – lots of boobyalla cuttings were planted that very first year. Later, as other trees grew, some of the boobyallas were removed but lots still remain. Most settlers have boobyallas somewhere on their property.

I remember Joanne Jackson telling us "Stake your trees securely, otherwise they will grow with a lean to the east," \- this proved to be a true piece of advice as I have several older trees with this "complaint."

The first two years were busy years erecting fences – Ernie, Gerry Murray, Joe Wentworth and Bill Marshman worked long hours as a team erecting miles of their fencing. As well as sharing fencing implements, they shared their jokes and problems and soon became great mates We wives would take it in turns to take lunches to them in the paddocks – lots of stories could be told about early experiences and mishaps.

I well remember one incident, they were doing our front fence, Ernie was using the post hole digger and must have averted his attention from his task for a moment (probably planning a joke to play on his mates as he was well known at that) and in an instant, one leg of his overalls disappeared in the post hole digger; exaggerated stories resulted from this episode!

We milked cows for five or six years to supplement our income until we were able to build up our sheep numbers. We used to take our cans of cream to Darlington to go to Camperdown with Mr. Hec Watson – his son Noel Watson did a lot of our cattle transporting. Another very good friend who looked after us well in those early days was Reg Grant from Dundonnell who was an agent for Strachans. He would rush out with wool packs and drenches, etc., at very short notice.

We had wonderful neighbours in Geoff and Alice Bishop who lived on Wooroglin Station. As we were without phone and electricity for quite a while, they would often bring phone messages to us all and we knew we could use their phone in an emergency.

The seasons were a challenge – some years were so wet it was difficult to get a vehicle of any kind into the paddock, and newly born lambs would drown before they could stand up.

The drought years were disastrous, but perhaps they are sent to balance the good years. I recall large numbers of stock being lost both in drought and cold, even snow. Yes, farming is a challenge, but then, what isn't? We have all shared our sorrows, and this in itself has bound us into a close community –three families have moved away, but we keep in contact.

Ernie passed away in February 1982. I am still living here at Monkani (an aboriginal word meaning thank you) and carry on the farm with the help of my son Norman. I have a daughter Sue, daughter-in-law Nola, son-in-law Toby and two wonderful grandchildren, Anthony and his sister Sandy – the past 27 years have been a rewarding experience. I would go through it all again.

Pet cats and dogs have sacred burial places beneath special trees – animals brought lots of pleasure to our family and in return, we are now getting pleasure from their memorial.

Doris Brewer, son Norman, daughter Sue

*

LAURENCE AND CAROLINE WENTWORTH

Three children Alan, Beth and Marie

Lot 8 Myrngrong Estate

We left Ghin Ghin, ten miles from Yea in north-east Victoria, in June 1959, with our three children, Beth 10 years, Alan eight years and Marie six years, to take up a settlement block (Lot 8) on Myrngrong Estate, 14 miles from Mortlake, which was to be our home for 24 years.

The carrier who move us was Mr. Toby McLeish of Yea. The furniture was loaded on to a semi trailer, leaving room at the back for our house cow and her calf (to provide milk for the family.) The carrier left Yea early next morning, but we left that night in our International van, (it used to be one of Moran and Cato's delivery vans.) We purchased it for 100 pounds.

We were delayed in leaving, as one of the pet cats went walkabout and we had to wait for its return as our six year old, Marie, was crying and wanted her cat. We eventually left at 8.00pm and headed for Geelong where we stayed the night. We were back on the road early next morning and arrived at the block at the same time as the carrier.

We got to work unloading the truck and made up three rooms in the garage. We lived in it for six months until the house was built. The block had to be sown down, so 250 acres was sown down with four pounds of clover and two pounds of rye-grass to the acre. Then fencing had to be done, about seven miles of it into seven main paddocks.

No stock was to be grazed on it until the seed had been established, which was the following April. We purchased 25 cows and started dairying. We would go to Terang sale yards and buy day old calves at 15 shillings to 30 shillings per head, and rear them.

The first sheep we purchased were 350 five year old ewes at one pound per head and two year old ewes at three pounds. Our first clip was 29 bales, this grew as the years went by to 78 bales in 1978. The next year we purchased another 200 acres from Tom Blake which joined our back paddock.

We will never forget the day in 1964 when the SEC power was connected to the house. That was an expensive Christmas, we bought a TV and a refrigerator and many other appliances, but we did not put the lamps away as there were times when the power would go off.

Our children enjoyed their tennis, cricket and football at Woorndoo and had many happy times there, also the Brownies at Darlington.

Like all settlers, we had our good seasons and our bad ones, but always hoped the next year would be better.

For health reasons, we had to give up farming in 1982 and sold to Mr. and Mrs. Brian Leske. We have now retired into Camperdown.

Our three children are now married, Beth and Dennis Cameron, two children, reside at Lake Bolac. Alan and Jan (Bouchier,) three children, reside at Woorndoo, Marie and Dennis Stephenson, two children, reside at Keysborough.

Laurence and Caroline Wentworth, Nance and Joe

*

LLOYD AND LINDA GRILLS

Four children Susan, Lloyd, Max and Ross

"Trebine" Estate

We arrived on Trebine Estate in January 1951 to tell the contractors where the Commission hut had to be erected. Our next task was to put the concrete floor in, which was quite a job in those days, and was I glad that we had made a very smooth surface, for we did not realize at the time, this would be our home for the next three years. We had only one child at that time, 13 month old Susan. What a difference it made to our lifestyle when the house was ready to move into. Our family consisted of one girl and three boys.

I think Soldier Settlement was a wonderful project; it taught us to be independent, and gave us something to aim for in our life.

Though not always an easy life, we are grateful that our children were reared in the country.

Lloyd and Linda Grills

## Chapter 13

1948, NORTH STATION

Lot 1 G. A. Krepp, 710 Acres.

Lot 2 A. K. Walker, 609 Acres.

Lot 3 T. B. Badham, 689 Acres.

Lot 4 J. W. Hannah, 594 Acres.

Lot 5 C. F. Small, 594 Acres.

Lot 6 G. W. McL Palmer, 598 Acres.

Lot 7 J. McC Menzies, 582 Acres.

Lot 8 S. Lade, 689 Acres.

Lot 9 W. J. Erwin, 586 Acres.

Also included in this chapter: Jack Edmunds, Lot 2 Terrinallum South Estate.

Explanatory Notes

1 mile = 1.6 kms. 1 square mile = 640 acres = 259 hectares.

A chain is equivalent to 66 feet, or 20.12 meters.

Brolgas and curlews are birds.

collect superphosphate - fertilizer

'chooks' are hens

NORTH STATION

Mortlake 1949 – 1960.

Having returned to Australia in 1945, my father Reg Piper, took some time to recover from three and a half years of POW in Thailand. 1949 saw him the new owner of the homestead of the "North Station" original property, and this was just as plans were being made to settle the outlying areas.

I first saw the North Station homestead one hot day. Grass was dry, thick, and at least four feet high; the house wore a look of grey stone coldness with its many windows staring balefully at these intruders who dared to invade. Inside bare and empty, echoing as we walked from room to room, and somewhere under our feet frogs croaking in chorus. Altogether, not a place of joy to a teenager whose home looked as if it had been dusted and swept, inside and out, before breakfast.

Outside there were buildings everywhere – two cottages, a maid's house, rooms for dairy and butcher, a detached laundry and two blue-stone loos....... all these rising from the dry grass as if no paths had ever existed.

We settled into our house after an army of tradesmen had wrought their magic and my mother tackled the weeds to make a garden of green and colour.

At first, the settler families lived everywhere there was a spare roof – people, dogs and cats everywhere, and we found delightful people ready for many years of hard work.

The tiny wooden cottages began to rise in a semi-circle around the homestead, some miles away – tiny cottages with few amenities and no comfort at first – cottages standing lonely in the brown, dry grass.

It surprised me to see the hard work the settlers and their families put into their land and their homes. In a surprisingly short time they were making their land productive and their homes attractive with flowers, shrubs and shade-trees.

My memories as a teenager are of so many friends, all ready to help each other; of farms rising out of bare land, and most of all, deep respect, liking and admiration for the settlers. Here indeed, is evidence of the Australians who came to nothing and achieved much!

By Pauline Lawson (Piper)

*

GORDON AND ANN KREPP

Two children Neville and Wayne

Lot 1 North Station

"Dowling Downs"

One year after returning to Australia from the islands, we moved from Mortlake to Gringegalgona, 12 miles from Balmoral, to share-farm with a cousin. We had a dairy-herd; the mail-man took our cream twice a week to Coleraine.

While there (for 2 years) I came back to my home area to inspect and apply for a settlement block on North Station.

Knowing the area well, I was sure that you could run dairy off it, that's with pasture improvement. To my surprise, received word that we had got the block, our first choice; it was as good as winning Tattslotto.

Now for all the planning – first was to shift our dairy herd down. Money was very important to make a start, when you had a very large paddock, with everything to go on it, so to save 60 pounds, decided to walk the cows 100 miles to our block. We thought 20 miles a day would be our target, but the herd of 70 went foot-sore, so it took six days. Nearing the end of our journey, we (that is, Jock and I) had rather a bad patch. I went on ahead to Chatsworth to get us some lunch. After buying sweet biscuits and cheese, all there was to buy, I went to get into my car and found a lady sitting in the front-seat. When I asked her where she was going, she said, "with you." Never being any good at handling women, went back to the store for help. After quite a bit of persuading, my car was freed, poor soul, so took lunch back to Jock, riding a large horse with the cows, and don't think he appreciated my lunch effort.

I then bought sheep and put them on agistment on North Station, and lived in the shearers' quarters with some of the other settlers while fencing the boundary, and 200 acres for a dairy paddock.

We moved onto the block to live in the garage with the two boys, family-wise for two years until the house was completed – we had no option on account of dairying.

The fun started shortly after that – the cows started to calve, quite a few un-broken heifers in them, and no dairy shed, couldn't get my builder to finish it, so made bails between the sugar-gums, also a 100 gallon separator anchored the same way; it was quite heavy to turn.

Quite a lot of rain fell during the months we milked there and mud got deeper day by day, we put stones where the bucket sat under the cow. The two boys, Neville and Wayne, four years and one year, had to be kept over there with us for long periods of time. We had a couple of sheets of iron to keep the rain off them, and would light a fire to keep them a bit warm; the wind would swirl through the plantation, so they ended up like little smoked possums.

It was quite a challenge at this stage; you had a large paddock to look at with nothing on it; miles of fencing required, buildings for all purposes, mills and dams to water the stock and supply the house, also small holding-paddocks, and many chains of piping to lay.

I think one of the worst jobs that faced me at that time, was the removal of stone to make a paddock ploughable and level enough for a small plane to land, to spray our oat crops. Adding to the work already ahead of us, shortly after getting the Soldier Settlement block, we bought the property adjoining, also with no improvements, so created a lot more of everything already mentioned.

In completing this story, for what it's worth, would like to make mention of two things. The first is, the people who settled on North Station were an excellent team; we bought machinery as a group to cut costs, also helped one another with many jobs, and always without a single complaint.

The other being how we named our property. It seemed a person named Dowling had owned this area, and after my allotment, I came down to Mortlake and was told by many people that I had got Dowling's paddock and swamp, so the name "Dowling Downs."

Gordon and Ann Krepp

*

A. K. WALKER

Lot 2 North Station

I guess the logical way to start these early recollections of the North Station Settlement would be to start at the first inspection! The impression was of typical station-type country covered with native grasses, with a high proportion of tussock and fairly extensive areas of low, dry swamps, very different from the old established farm lands of the Bellarine Peninsula.

In these early days of the settlement, no roads or drainage systems existed and the country was subjected to flooding in wet years.

Housing at this time was very difficult following the war; months elapsed from the beginning to the completion of our homes. During this period, most of the North Station Settlers were quartered at the Homestead and shearing quarters, together with their families.

The task of fencing boundaries began in country that in the summer period seemed to be almost crowbar-proof. Later on, this unloved task was taken on by a contractor, the crowbar and shovel were allowed to rest and cool down. This was an extremely busy time, erecting buildings, sub-dividing the properties, with the wives sharing this labour and making life so much more bearable. Perhaps here I should like to say how much I have appreciated the efforts of my own wife, who not only made a home for our family, but shared so willingly in all the hard tasks involved in converting a tract of virgin country into a productive farm. It was inevitable given our common problems and the same general interests, that many long lasting friendships were established.

One of the things that has struck me, looking back from the present time, is the difference settling has made to the country; from the carrying capacity of one and a quarter to one and a half sheep per acre, to at least four sheep on the credit side, to a rather sad demise of our wild life. Brolgas which were plentiful in those early days, have virtually disappeared, and I have not heard a curlew in years.

While the farms were being established, tasks such as dipping and shearing were carried out using the facilities at the homestead.

As access roads were constructed, school children were catered for by private constructor, Mr. Brian Holley, who camped in a tent in a plantation on North Road.

Hares and rabbits were a big problem. Forty chains of young trees in a plantation were eaten out by hares in about two weeks (hares are not my favourite animal.)

Having grown up and worked with horse teams, I had to adjust to a different style of farming. During flood times, the road to Mortlake would often be impassable at Blind Creek Bridge. Lack of communications in the early stages, with the pleasure of installing our own party line, despite its many drawbacks, also comes to mind.

In being selected for a block, the system was used that allowed points for war service, farming experience, married or single and number of children. From memory, 109 applicants applied for North Station.

Alan K. Walker

*

LILA WALKER

Lot 2 North Station

August 7th, 1949, we arrived at North Station with furniture, horse, cow and Jeannette's kitten, also Elaine, five weeks old in a clothes basket. I really didn't know what to expect, and when I saw the framework of our home, I didn't really want to stay, but after meeting all the other families, who were so helpful, especially with the new baby, I decided I just had to make the most of it, which I did, hence, after 38 years, we are still here. On the 7th February 1950, our home was finished, and in we moved.

A hen house and a swing were the only buildings we had, then came the job of building the woolshed, with Elaine in her pram and Jeanette to keep her eye on her. I set about helping Alan build the woolshed, not that I could hammer a nail in, because I still can't. It was a great thrill after it was finished to know at least I had helped along with our fencing.

Looking back on it all brings back mostly lovely memories, one I will never forget; David was about three years old at the time, and we had a bitch which loved killing hens. This day the Reverend Dunkley decided to call and we were in the loungeroom having a cuppa, when in bowls David, dragging two dead hens and said, "Mum, look at what bloody Lassie done;" needless to say, I sprang to attention quick smart and retrieved boy and hens.

Now we are sharing the farm with our lovely grandchildren.

Lila J. Walker

*

TOM AND GRETA BADHAM

Two children Russell and Michael

Notes on the History of Soldier Settlement in Mortlake from the Badham Family.

Lot 3 North Station

Tom Badham wanted to work the land from the time he escaped Melbourne for his Uncle's Western Australian property in 1936. For 18 shillings a week he worked there until enlisting for service in the Second World War. After the War, he returned to the West aiming for a Soldier Settlement block. Unsuccessful, he returned to Victoria to share-farm at Berrybank, still waiting for a farm of his own.

In 1948 he was offered block 3 on North Station at Mortlake, and while unimpressed with the bleak 640 acres boasting a small gum plantation as its only asset, he accepted the completely unimproved property. This largely swampy square mile, described by a prominent local grazier at the time, as merely "gum leaves and sheep shit" offered few prospects to the 35 year old share farmer.

Nevertheless, while honouring his obligations to the Trustees of Berrybank by sowing and harvesting the 1949 crop for them, he fenced and began to improve his block.

During the time he worked both properties, he lived in a room attached to the shearing shed on North Station. This room, without water or heating, was a blue stone cubby-hole which was to be home for 12 months. His fellow settlers and their wives later admitted to more than a little curiosity about the unknown bachelor in their midst. This was exacerbated when Tom arrived with all his worldly possessions: a tray-bodied army truck complete with one wardrobe, one bed, six hens, a roll of chicken wire and one bag of oats for the birds, a dog and 44 gallon drum of fuel.

The harvest of 1949 at Berrybank significantly boosted his capital assets by yielding enough pounds to purchase a tractor. His frugal lifestyle continued but his bachelorhood and lodgings came to an end in March 1950 when he married a 35 year old confirmed city girl Greta Vincent. Greta, a cellist with the Victorian Symphony Orchestra and, uncommonly for that era, a woman with a professional career of ten years standing, was given little chance of adapting to the lifestyle required on the block. After a short honeymoon, the two set off in convoy to the newly completed house at block 3, now called "Longford" because of it being known originally as the Long Paddock.

The 150 miles drive from Melbourne saw Tom in the truck with some odd pieces of furniture, and Greta in an old Sunbeam car packed with largely inappropriate city clothes, their wedding presents and her cherished 'cello. The trip, punctuated in Geelong to collect superphosphate, took six hours and Greta admits to a feeling that Mortlake would never come.

Finally they arrived and Greta remembers fondly that Tom, despite suffering from one of his many malaria attacks, carried her across the threshold. The house was incomplete but livable and the couple spent their first night on a mattress on the kitchen floor. The following day they unpacked and laid the kitchen lino and from here on, Tom rarely saw the house in daylight, except for mealtimes as he worked seven days a week fencing, tree planting and improving the unforgiving block which was so wet that at one stage he thought he would be better running a regatta than sheep.

In those days, of course, there was no electricity. Hot water was provided by a chip heater with plunge bath taken by the whole family using the same water for conservation reasons and cooking was done on a black IXL wood stove which discoloured everything that went near it. Washing was the work of a copper, lighting by kerosene lamp, and not without a long wait, refrigeration from the kero fridge which regularly provided a black smoke invasion for the whole house.

In February 1951, their first son, Russell, was born. The next six months also saw the first major involvement with shearers and with the addition to the small sheep flock of a house cow, the long standing bachelor and his bride had many quite new experiences: parenthood, milking and butter-making made for additional, if not always, romantic extra responsibilities for the new settlers.

In time, the house cow became four and it was decided to separate cream from milk and supply the nearby factory at Noorat. Subsequently, a dairy was built and the herd, while not luxuriating on the wet and sub-optimal ground, was extended to 30 in order to provide the essential regular cashflow needed to improve the house and lifestyle of a farming family. Sheep, however, predominated as soon as possible.

Their second son, Michael, was born in November 1953, and both boys later attended the Mortlake Primary School and, for the early years of secondary education, Mortlake High. They absolutely adored their years among the neighbours and their children and within the wonderful closeknit and sports-conscious community which was Mortlake. Both boys say they would trade the same experiences for their children today if it were possible to transpose lives and times.

Meanwhile, Tom worked fastidiously for long hours. The 'cello was sold and Greta became mother, partner, draughter, inoculator and milker, thus proving the city based doubters wrong in terms of her resilience.

Tom, despite some pretty ugly setbacks which included a liver-fluke epidemic, grubs and hail damage to many oat crops and terrible footrot, refused to be beaten. Despite the beastly drought of 1968, it was without doubt the footrot outbreak which was the most disturbing affliction to face the family on the block.

Tom was a particularly proud farmer and always presented his sheep and wool as well as possible. Standing at the rear of his woolshed, he single-handedly pared back the feet of every sheep in the flock. It took nearly 12 months, working almost every day of the week to eradicate the problem.

One of Russell's first memories of his father is of the man stooped over sheep, clipping away at their feet and telling stories about Davy Crockett. According to Greta, his telling those stories may have been the only thing that kept Tom on an even level, given that his eyes were sunken with tiredness and often grey with worry during these days.

His pride, of course, also brought rewards as did the external factors which made wool prices so good in the 1950's. No matter how rewarding it was to receive a pound per pound of wool on the one occasion the one small bale yielded it, it was better to bring a top or the top price for wool at the Geelong sales. Tom's wool was often in this class.

The man's pride was also seen in the appearance of the farm which became a show piece in fencing, plantation and building layout, pasture and stock quality. It was a far cry from the promise, description and prospects predicted by the Mr. Manifold quoted earlier. His pride, however, was seen at its most extreme by the large piles of stone which dotted the property. Much to the chagrin of the boys, Tom believed that there was always something to do on the block and when there wasn't anything obvious, picking up stones was the task.

Looking back, the only benefit either son can see from this was that rabbits used the piles as a refuge. If you sat on one long enough, you could shoot a feed, which beat digging them out. (Clearly there was a side benefit for the farm in that it was made much easier to cultivate!)

At all times the farm was a great place for the extended family, especially at Christmas time with cousins and usually a visiting Junior Legatee on holidays, friends and neighbours enjoying the simple pleasures in each others company. Whether it was the rotten jobs like eating the dust while cleaning the silo, collecting the dreaded stones or the annual event of painting the sheep yards with sump oil, or whether it was having a swim in the dam or hitting a ball around the rough tennis court, everyone was "in it" and we think everyone enjoyed it.

Tom and Greta lived at Longford for 23 years and she says the only time she was unhappy "was during the long hot summers when on a north wind day the gum leaves blew in the back door and you would really swear they were crackling with heat if not fire. Yet, despite the fear of fire in the summer and the indignities inflicted by flies, climate and markets, the Mortlake years were the best of our lives."

In the early 1970s when neither Russell or Michael were interested in adopting farming and Tom was fighting the dreaded cancer which finally took his life, the Badhams left the farm but never severed their ties with Mortlake.

However, because "they made Longford" and it was the most productive time, certainly in Tom's life, his ashes are now in the Mortlake Cemetery and Greta, Russell and Michael have not only his memory, but an enormous number of friendships and experiences to make the Mortlake years an era without parallel.

Tom (dec) and Greta Badham, Russell and Michael

*

The following is an address given by Russell, after the death of Tom. I think it showed great understanding for the returned men, at the age of 30 years.

Editor.

ANZAC DAY ADDRESS – 1981

Many people may ask what I, a man of 30 without any armed service record, is doing here on Anzac Day speaking to people who, in the main, know far more about war and its hazards, horrors and heights, than I will ever know. I guess until I thought deeply about it, I would be of exactly the same mind.

However, when I did put my mind to the matter, it became obvious to me that there are many more of us in this country who haven't experienced war and the associated lows and highs, than there are who have. There are almost two whole generations who have never been armed in the name of Australia's security, and therefore possibly two generations who either know or care little of the trials and tribulations of those before us who have fought and suffered in the cause, rightly or wrongly, of future generations of Australians.

This was brought home to me very sharply only this week when, at the loss of my father, I came face to face with his old comrades from the Second World War and those with whom he worked in Legacy and the RSL until his death. The fraternity, loyalty and enormous bonds of friendship that existed between these men and women was a stark reminder to me of the positive sides of armed service and the deep commitment so many ex-service people have made to Australia all this century – a commitment that many people born since 1940 have come, either to take for granted or treat with ignore. A commitment built on much more than bands and beer and the friendship of the local RSL - a real ambition and desire to continue to serve.

I well remember in the small country town where I spent my childhood that the whole population would turn out to these ceremonies. Children would leave school and attend the wreath laying, the municipal band would play, the RSL would march, and the whole community would "remember." It seems in many ways that this feeling has been diluted because so many of us have become distanced from the activities of war.

It is important that this trend be arrested for two very powerful reasons:

1. Because people who haven't experienced the horrors of war become soft, unthinking beings who take things for granted and accept all manner of impositions until it is too late; and

2. Because many of our forbears suffered enormously in our name and they shouldn't be forgotten, because it is vitally important to the very fabric of our society that we remember and are thankful.

The first reason is important because those of us who are 10, 20, 30 or even 40 years old (with the exception of Vietnam veterans) don't know of gas, barbed wire, trenches, death which is slow and obscene, going through life with war related injuries or without a parent or loved one who never returned. We are fortunate not to have experienced this, but must be aware of it so that it doesn't happen again!

Until we look at the graveyards of France and Gallipoli and see row after row of white crosses bearing the names of 18, 19, 20 and 21 year old Australians cut off in the prime of life, with only a memory enshrined in the hearts of loyal loved ones, or maintained in perpetuity by old photographs in tattered and torn frames – only then will young Australians be absolutely committed to end man's indifference to his fellow man.

But equally important is that only then will young Australians appreciate the importance of this day. It is not, as I said earlier, a day of bands and beer, of glorification of war – but a solid and sad reminder that many of us do not know why these people died, many of us do not know of their suffering, their sorrow, the glory, the shame, the killing and dying. We do not respect nearly enough the fact that almost a whole generation was butchered and damned between 1914 and 1918 in a war to end wars. And nonetheless it has happened again and again and again!

Anzac Day is important for those who can remember, to remember: and for those who cannot, to learn the appropriate lessons.

I conclude with the last two paragraphs of Patsy Adam-Smith's book "The Anzacs."

"Oh, the useless slaughter of young men," Theo Ford, at eighty, says. "The older I get the sadder I feel about the uselessness of it all, but in particular, the deaths of my comrades."

"You ask me how these sights affected me," said my cousin Jackie Pearce, when he talked with me just once about those years in France. "Well, I wouldn't have known at the time. We never talked to one another about it mark you, but I reckon each of us had learnt from the first shock not to register (the sight) again. Except for a few chaps. And they went mad."

Jim McPhee told me, "We thought we managed alright, kept the awful things out of our minds, but now I'm an old man and they come out from where I hid them. Every night."

In every small town the squat stone monuments went up, some at crossroads where it is difficult to imagine a squad of men having lived at any time. For other wars a church, a hall, hospital or park would suffice but as the poet Geoffrey Page said, "this war took stone." Some commentators claim that these monuments are "yet another example of Australians' wish to immortalise defeats." No writer having a scholarly interest in the personal documents of men who served in that war and the women who waited could come to such a conclusion. They were more the symbolic tombs of an ideal.

What price me now? There is no way of knowing, for most of the accounts were never presented.

We must make sure that the Australian community acknowledge these accounts – by remembering if it can, and learning whether it can remember or not.

Russell Badham

*

J. W. HANNAH

One child Jan

Lot 4 North Station

Reminiscences of North Station - 1949

Whilst our homes were being built, many families "camped," as it were, in and around the North Station homestead.

My family (Mother, Father and self, aged four years) lived in a caravan adjoining the station school-room. I remember those 15 months with delight – the many friends to play with; the scrambling up and over the stiles; making wonderful tree-houses in the capacious pines, and playing at being explorers by following the Blind Creek by lantern light one black night with my older cousins.

There was a small pathway heavily enclosed by shrubbery leading from the school-room to the homestead, and I can remember many a time playing truant there.

One day my mother was horrified to discover four year old me and a three year old friend climbing to the very top of a 64 feet high windmill, under which was a very deep well. She gently coaxed us down with the aid of a chocolate cake!

Jan Wade

*

DICK WADE

Dick Wade came to Ennerdale as rabbiter just when the Second World War ended. Ennerdale was burnt out in 1944 and all the netting fencing was destroyed. Prior to that, Ben Wright had cleared the whole place of rabbits. Ben lost his life in the fire, and subsequently the place became badly re-infested. Dick was faced with a daunting task, he was a Returned Soldier from the First World War, so was not a young man. However, he tackled it manfully, gradually building a pack of dogs and using a rubber tyred spring cart with "Nugget," a fine half Clydesdale. For a while there was another rabbiter on the job with him, but it was not a success.

At first Dick lived beside the homestead in a pre-fab hut, while the homestead was being rebuilt. He was a quiet, pleasant chap, very good mannered and soon was popular with everyone. Later he moved out to smarter quarters nearer his dogs. Dick remained at Ennerdale for almost the rest of his life. Straight away he joined the RSL and used to go to nearly all meetings with Charles Luckock and enjoyed them. In his later years, he gave up rabbiting and helped around the garden, collected the mail, etc.. Frequently we had young people staying, perhaps from England, and they would always arrange with Dick that their "special" letters were received personally and not put with the house mail for all to see! I think he was affectionately regarded in many far away places! Dick retired from Ennerdale in January 1973 to the Elderly Citizen's home in Ararat and later moved to Melbourne where he lived with a sister, and died there in August 1974.

Jean Luckock

*

JIM AND KATE MENZIES

One child Janet

Lot 7 North Station

I came to Australia from Scotland in 1927 with the Big Brother movement. I worked on various stations in Victoria until the war.

I served from October 1939 until I was wounded in 1943, and was sent back to Heidelberg where I met, and married Kathleen Gardner, who was nursing at Heidelberg Repatriation Hospital. We were both discharged from the army in 1944, and I got a job as manager of a station at Echuca; we stayed there for four years, and I then applied for a block at Rochester, dairying and mixed farming. I was knocked back because when the Board asked me how many cows I would milk, I replied, "No more than I can help!!"

I then applied for a block on North Station, and we moved to Mortlake in November 1948. We lived in various places for the next two years: a caravan, a hut near the homestead, and I was there appointed caretaker, and we moved into the homestead. We shared the homestead buildings with Alan Walker (in the dining room,) Frank Small (in the old homestead) John Hannah, (in the nursery) and Steven Lade (in the chaff-room.) Kate and I slept in the pantry and had the use of the kitchen. The others used to bring their roasts, etc., in and cook them in the kitchen; we had lots of fun. All of us were accompanied by our wives.

Tom Badham and Gordon Krepp were in the shearers' quarters. Geoff Palmer had a house in Mortlake, and Jim Erwin, lived in a house near his block. Of the nine settlers only Jim Erwin, Gordon Krepp, Alan Walker and I are still living. I gave it away 13 years ago, and moved near Melbourne. I worked as a gardener for about five years, and then decided to retire again. I have enjoyed myself ever since playing bowls, and doing a bit of gardening for ourselves.

Regarding work on the block, we never went for spectacular numbers of stock – about 2000 head of sheep and 100 head of cattle kept us quiet. We never owned a lot of plant, never owned a baler or harvesting machinery, and I didn't kill myself with hard work!!

They were good days on the block, and the others were good people to get on with, little or no argument in spite of the fact that we shared a number of implements and machinery.

When we first went to North Station, one of the previous owners was heard to say that there was no way we could make a living off our block. This was proved very wrong, as, after 25 years, those who had left their blocks were considerably better off than when they arrived. Those who are still there: - Jim Erwin, Gordon Krepp, Alan Walker and Mrs. Steven Lade, can speak for themselves, but I would imagine that the previous owners, if they were still alive, would be very happy to have North Station back.

I often think that the people who did really well out of Soldier Settlement were the local traders, particularly the motor-car traders. When we arrived at North Station, the only vehicle on the place was Harry Holdsworth's Ford Prefect. Within a couple of years I think there were at least ten cars, four trucks and ten tractors, to say nothing of shearing plants, saw-benches and a host of other machinery.

Altogether, it was a wonderful experience being a North Station Settler. Kate and I made a lot of wonderful friends, who are still our friends today.

Jim Menzies

*

STEPHEN AND MYRTLE LADE

Two children Jocelyn and Barbara

Lot 8 North Station

News that Stephen had been allotted a block on North Station arrived in April 1948. A few days later, with great excitement, we set sail from north-east Victoria in our 1932 Morris Cowley utility, reaching Mortlake at dusk.

Having telegrammed ahead, we expected to find accommodation at Mac's Hotel. However, there were no beds available, and after many phone calls we found accommodation at Terang.

It had began to rain steadily in the evening, which turned out to be a true autumn break. As we drove to Terang, the road was thick with hopping frogs which gave credence to the saying, "It was raining frogs," \- a sight which we had not seen before and very rarely since.

After three to four inches of rain that night, most of the low areas of country-side were under water. My two children and I were not very impressed, or able to show the enthusiasm my husband did at what we saw the next day. It was hard to visualise our block, when, for as far as the eye could see, there were no roads or fences.

My husband moved to Mortlake in the spring of 1948 to commence fencing and to stock the property. At working-bees, thousands of droppers were drilled for the many miles of fencing which were needed on the nine new farms. There was little equipment and all the post-holes were dug by hand.

Stephen batched at the shearers' quarters, near the North Station wool-shed with other men for some months, until our family moved to the district in April 1949. The carpenters working on our house were billeted at the wool-shed also. We were fortunate that our home was built in an existing square of shelter, as the winds across the plains made it difficult to establish trees and gardens at first.

After settling into basic accommodation (primitive by today's standards) around the homestead, our daughters were sent to Mortlake Primary School, being the first Soldier Settlers' children to attend. Mr. Stacpoole was the head teacher.

There were no school-buses running, so we drove the eight miles twice a day. As more families arrived, we shared the travelling. Later, transport was arranged with the Mortlake to Warrnambool contractor, until the first school-bus ran on North Road in the last week of December 1951. Higher education was a problem at that time because there was no high school at Mortlake, so our children had to board at Warrnambool to attend high school there, coming home at weekends.

Our home took nine months to complete, and the highlight for us was to be able to enjoy our first meal there. This happened to be Christmas dinner, 1949.

As was the way at that time, there was no consultation with the settlers as to the position, plan or colour scheme of their homes. This, no doubt, eliminated a lot of problems for the Soldier Settlement Commission.

We found the Mortlake business houses gave good service with supplies and materials for the property, in the face of shortage after the war.

The telephone was a great boon to communication, coming about 1951. The settlers, by means of working-bees, cut and provided poles from their plantations, completing all the work of putting up lines along the roads and to each household. The technicians were needed only to make the final connection and instal the telephone. One account for six months in 1952 was seven pounds thirteen and seven pence.

With the coming of electricity in October 1953, appliances which today are taken for granted, were added to the farm and home.

One of the most severe tests came with the 1967-68 drought. No mechanism existed at that time for assistance, and all stock prices were disastrously low. Swarms of locusts arrived from the north that season eating all flowers, vegetables and any green shoots in their path.

Anzac Day 1968 was a total fire ban day with temperature above 90 degrees F., and a northerly gale whipping up dust storms. Empty dams and drains were filled with dust and rubbish. The good rains which followed that night broke the drought and filled the dams, but in many cases the water was too polluted for use.

We like to think that the coming of Soldier Settlers to this district has contributed to the development of Mortlake and the Western District in general. There have been highs and lows with the farming community over the years and more modern ideas have been coming forward all the while, such as mustering by motor-bike, wool sold by measure and stock sold by live weight. The use of computers in the keeping of farm records shows we are moving quickly "towards 2000."

Myrtle Wade – "Illowa."

*

JIM AND LOU ERWIN

Three children Jillian, Wesley and Gaye

Lot 9 North Station

Jim and Lou Erwin were married in Melbourne on 12th July 1947. They had a daughter, Jillian Maree on 23rd May 1948. They applied for a Soldier Settlement block in the same year. Their first choice was North Station; and they received this because of Jim's length of overseas service,

In August 1948, the family moved to Mortlake to take up their block on North Road. They named it "Naweenda" \- an Aboriginal name meaning "fine day." 400 acres of the block were already fenced, so Jim was able to bring 270 Merino sheep with him from the Wimmera where he had been keeping them on his brother's block. He leased the land from the Commission to run his sheep. The family rented the house across the road from Naweenda from Mr. Scotty Peters.

Whilst they were living in this house, an airman, on one of the weekly training flights from Point Cook, crashed. His plane just missed the power lines at the back of the house. Luckily there was little damage to the plane, and the pilot was not hurt. As there was no telephone, Jim said that the pilot could borrow the car to drive to Mondilibi and phone Point Cook. But the pilot could not drive!

The pilot stayed with Jim and Lou for two days until officers from Point Cook arrived to inspect the damage and load the plane for a return to the base. It was hard to watch the fuel from the plane (over 100 gallons of it) being emptied onto the ground when petrol rationing was 20 gallons per month!

The house at "Naweenda" was completed in December 1948 and the Erwin family moved in before Christmas that year.

More sheep were bought at the Hamilton Sheep Sales, and a stockhorse was purchased from Terang Stock Sales.

The other settlers began to move in after Christmas 1948; and they all aided each other in working and building their land.

Lou and Jim had two more children, Wesley (born in 1951) and Gaye, (born in 1954.)

*

JACK EDMUNDS

Four children Pat, Kay, John and David

Lot 2 Terrinallum South Estate

I originally came from NSW where I was a general blacksmith's assistant, but had to move on during the depression. I enlisted and after discharge in 1946, became a contract fencer – wheat carter – rabbit-trapper. In 1953, I moved to Victoria, asked, and was granted permission to have my NSW classification transferred. Terrinallum South was my third application. We arrived at Darlington on 23rd October 1956 in a Pontiac 1935, with three dogs, 15 chooks and a cat named Bill. We lived in a cottage on Jellalabad for four months and had one month in our number one hut. Tommy Muir gave us an old stove, which I later passed on to Gerry Murray. We had all electric gear, so found it awkward with no power. George Hill leased me an old kero fridge for 30 shillings a month.

Wilky Hendry and I bought some five year old ewes from J. Wyartt for ration sheep and I don't think I have digested them yet.

I first came to the block in August 1956 and camped in Calvert's wool-shed until Wilky Hendry and I completed the northern boundary fence of 70 chain. I never saw such weather in my life, rain, sleet, hail. When I went back to Springhurst, I told my wife, "If I was buying the place, I would willing "do" my deposit" but here we are 30 years on and still alive - but still don't like the weather.

Jack Edmunds

## Chapter 14

IN RETROSPECT....

Memory is selective; it tends to veil the bad times in a merciful mist, but depicts the good times in exaggerated glowing colours.

How did we cope in those early years

In a bare little hut with a baby son?

With a lot of laughs, and not many tears,

For we were young, and it seemed like fun!

And we shared with neighbours our hopes and fears,

And the many urgent jobs to be done.

We had no road, no phone, no power.

Money was scarce, and water was too.

But we filled kero. tins from each passing shower,

And lived very cheaply on rabbit stew.

And we made the most of each precious hour,

And worked like beavers the long day through.

Then the road went through, and our house was complete.

The mail-man and school-bus came to our gate.

The phone was connected and, that was a treat.

The power was switched on, and wasn't it great?

We felt like lords in our country seat,

And sheep replaced rabbits upon our estate.

There are new owners now on the farm out there.

But we well remember the things we have done;

We talk with our friends of the memories we share,

And we all agree, regrets we have none.

Sometimes it was hard, but we didn't care,

For we were young, and wasn't it fun!

Alison McRae

The End

If you are interested, you might also like the book "But Sir" \- the Autobiography of a Twentieth Century Australian, by Merv McRae

