Living History

Frank's story - Early years

“I was born at 6.30am on the 22nd October 1941 at an early age”. I can say that with a straight face. I am the surviving one of twins; my twin brother John died two days after birth. We were born several weeks prematurely, hence my opening remark. In 1941 a small country village like Delegate, was not equipped to handle such events and Humidity Cribs and the like were unheard of. So the fact that I survived was remarkable in itself.

Delegate was a small town in south eastern New South Wales population about 600 in the 1940s and 50s Cooma was about 125km north and Orbost in Victoria was about 130 kms south. In December I was able to leave the hospital, Dad took Mum and me out to Delegate River, an even smaller community about 15 Kilometers away, to where he was shearing at the time. This did not endear him with Mum’s family at the time. We then returned to Delegate, living in a small flat at the rear of a Bakery Shop, which was owned and operated by Mum’s parents.

As shearing was a protected industry with the ongoing War, Dad was unable to enlist. So my parents moved to Sydney staying at Elizabeth Bay for several weeks then at Redfern with Esme, a lady who was raised by Mum’s parents. Dad finally found a flat at Kings Cross and he worked at the Rheems factory. He was eventually accepted into the Air Force in April 1943.

Mum, her sister Dawn and I returned to live at the flat behind the Bakery in Delegate while Dad and Dawn’s husband Gordon were away in New Guinea. Dad contracted malaria and after a spell in hospital in Port Moresby, returned from New Guinea and Mum, Dawn and I returned to Sydney to another flat opposite the previous one. Dad was again sent overseas this time to Bouganville Island. Mum, Dawn and I again returned to Delegate and the Bakery flat where we stayed until the War ended and Dad was De-mobbed. My memory of the time we lived at the Bakery is of the steep stairs at the rear and a black dog that followed me around and stopped me from venturing across the road.

In 1946 Dad bought a 1929 Dodge car, a small caravan and a tent. So with Mum and me, he set off to northern NSW shearing. We eventually arrived at Warren where my brother Bill was born. We continued down to Pine Hill Station near Canberra where a fierce hailstorm caused the destruction of the tent, it was torn to shreds against a barbed wire fence. We returned to Delegate again to the Bakery flat. Dad at one stage shearing during the day and baking bread at night.

In 1947 again headed north as far as Charleville in Western Queensland, travelling from shed to shed. Although yet to turn six, I remember some things, of that time. Like spending the day with the daughter of another shearer, playing in a mud hole on the black soil which, when dry, set like concrete and we were covered from head to toe. I can recall my mother tying two straps from the suitcases together and dunking me into the river to get the mud off me and the girl standing on the river-bank, while her mother poured bucket after bucket of river water over her. I also became adept at building the campfire, and helping to fold up the tent when we moved.

We returned to Delegate by December and lived in a house up from the Bakery. This old weatherboard house consisted of four rooms at the front was the living room and the main bedroom at the rear another bedroom and the kitchen. There was a small verandah at the front, a laundry that was open along the front, was at the rear of the house, The Dunny was further down the yard. The inside walls were made of a tarred brown paper. This was painted with a product called Kalsomine. There was an open fireplace at the end of the living room, and a wood fuel stove in the Kitchen. There was a bathtub across the end of the back bedroom, as there was no hot or cold water plumbed to it I don’t recall it ever being used to bathe in. We used an old fashioned round tub placed in front of the fire, water was heated in a Kerosene tin [about four gallons at a time] on top of the stove. We all had a bath on Saturday night whether we needed one or not.

I had an eye defect. The muscle controlling my right eyelid did not function and my eye was permanently closed. In June 1948 I was taken to a place in Sydney and left with the Children’s Far West Home in Manly. This was an organisation run by the Methodist Church to provide a place in Sydney where country children could stay while they received the necessary treatment that was not available in the country.

The home had its own school and nursing staff. I was there for several weeks before I went into the Sydney eye hospital for treatment. We were treated ok and I don’t remember being home sick or anything. Every morning we lined up after breakfast and had our temperature taken. If you were sick there was a sick dormitory where you went to recuperate. Once a week we were all given a dose of castor oil with a piece of orange to take away the taste. Lots of kids put up a fuss and had to be force-fed the castor oil. Funny enough I did not mind it at all. I also had my first taste of ice cream and Coca Cola while I was here.

Once in the hospital I under went surgery to have a portion of my eyelid removed, so I could see out of the eye. I spent several days with both eyes covered, during this time a man would sit by my bed and tell me stories, gradually my eyes were uncovered and I was allowed to go home. Mum’s older sister Jean picked me up to take me back to Delegate. When we left to catch the train she gave me a large parcel to carry as she was looking after the bags. There had been some heavy snowstorms and we were lucky to get home. We arrived home on my 7th birthday and Aunty Jean told me the parcel I had so diligently looked after was in fact my birthday present. My first train set.

Frank

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