Australians at War Film Archive

We’ll just start off I was

born Ivy Laura Collins…on the 20th March 1923 in Atherton Hospital, in Atherton. My parents were dairy farmers at Chilverton [?]. From Chilverton my father was offered a job in

Malanda. Malanda was a very small village at that time, only 11 years old. From bolt boy, as they used to call the people who did the potatoes, filled the bottles with kerosene and etcetera and worked the bowser, from there he was raised to manager of

that store. We lived in a house that he managed to put a deposit on. There was 6 children born there.

I was the eldest.

My father was very frugal and believed in only what we could afford. He managed to own one of the first cars in Malanda, which we thought was very good. And his wage was seven pound a

week.

I spent my childhood in

Malanda. I went to Malanda State School. There was no high school as such. If you wanted high school you had to go away. My parents could not afford that. From state school—I had to stay at school 3 extra years because I was too young to leave—I was offered a job as a part-time

telephonist. My first wage was twenty-seven and six for the week. From being a telephonist, I stayed in Malanda when my father was transferred to Innisfail. War broke out in 1939 and

Malanda did not have electricity so we were used to being in a blackout. I stayed in Malanda and was then transferred to Innisfail for three months, to Tully for about six months, Cairns for about twelve months. I met my future husband in Innisfail. He was

in essential service and was very annoyed; could not join up. When the Coral Sea Battle was on things became very threatening for the citizens and so we decided to get married when I was only twenty.

We spent our first part of married life in Innisfail. When he was transferred to Malanda, we had two years there. I thought it was a dreadful town then. And he was again transferred, to Beaudesert. In Beaudesert we lived a very active

life. In all parts of society. I felt I had something to offer and went as manageress of the TAB Totalisator Agency Board]. From there I found that was a very hard life when you have children. I went to

a newspaper office for a few months and then was offered a position as a buyer for a department store, which I loved. We were quite happily settled when my husband decided at 53 he would then do what he’d wanted to always do with his life and

learn geology. We closed down in Beaudesert and went to a very small village called Eulo. A 3 hour journey out of Cunnamulla. There we opened up Eulo tourist centre and when people started travelling we

then decided a caravan park was a necessity. So we applied and built Artesian Waters Caravan Park. With no help; we had to do all the work ourselves but it was very rewarding. My husband went and did the mining and became a garbage man etcetera in the park.

With 16 hours daily we became very weary citizens, so we decided to sell. And in 1982 we retired from public life. We had a trip to America to see my sister, who was a war bride, for 3 months. Came back

and just settled down to being miners. We came to Expo and my husband was ill. He eventually died from Legionnaire’s Disease. I could not stay in Eulo as there was no electricity,

no way I could lift a 44 gallon drum to use a diesel engine. And my son came and brought me to Brisbane so that his children could get to know their grandmother. And here I am.

okay. My two children were born in Innisfail; a boy and a girl. And they spent their school time in Beaudesert. My son; an architect and he has

since died. My daughter lives out west. And each had two children; a boy and a girl. And I adore my four grandchildren.

I was born in Atherton Hospital because that was where the doctors were. The Tableland was a very new place to live. My parents at Chilverton decided to go to

Malanda and Malanda was a very small town. I spent my childhood there. We had the beautiful Malanda Falls. We learnt swimming. We liked athletics. I played a lot of basketball. Old fashioned basketball.

Very straight throwing. Nothing over your

head. If you threw over your head well, that was forbidden. We took an interest in all sport.

1923

Yes.

My mother was 20

and my father was 22.

They were energetic people who took part in sport. My father played football and played in the band. My mother was a pianist, a dance pianist. And

we always had people around us. My father was one of 12 children and my mother was one of 7. So we had many aunts and uncles. In those days houses were open to everyone. There was no such thing as a key to a house. If you went on holidays your house stayed open. And aunts and uncles and grandparents just walked in.

No one ever had to say; ‘I’m coming.’ In those days there were no such things as motorcars, when I was born. So there were the spring carts the sulkies and anyone who visited

had their own horse and sulky or their buckboard, which carried all the goods back to their farms.

A buckboard was 4 wheels, very heavy wheels. It had a seat suspended behind the front wheels and then a tray behind that, that carried all their goods. And in those days everything

was brought, like a bag of corn. There were no refrigerators. Butter was a thing that was unable to be carried.

The sulky was like your lounge chair with two much narrower wheels. And

ladies used to drive that. They could hook it onto a harness on the horse and that’s how ladies got around by themselves.

Well because there was no other way to visit somebody who might only live a couple of miles away. The children used to sit in the sulky and Mum would take them for the day to grandma or aunty etcetera.

This district out in the Tablelands was then…it became a dairying place. A rather large butter factory was built in Malanda and a second smaller one. We had ample butter. Fowls were always raised by uncles or aunts on farms so we always had plenty of eggs. And fruit…

the pioneers had put in the fruit trees so you always had plenty of citrus at that time. Apart from that all our goods had to come by rail. There was no such thing as trucking in those days because there weren't motorcars. Or by boat. We had Tasmanian potatoes came on the boat. Many times in the summer

they were bad by the time they reached Cairns and then they had to be transported by train to Malanda. The people who moved the goods from the railway, they used spring carts, which was like a huge tray on two wheels and one horse. And generally the driver stood up on a spring cart. But that was

our modern transport in Malanda. Using those sorts of carts cut very deep ruts in the red soil. Malanda was, I think, all red soil and so it rained a lot because the scrub was still there.

And so the carts used to cut deep furrows in the ground. When motorcars came along their wheel tracks were almost identical to the spring carts so they used the same roads and were often bogged. You didn’t move very far out of the town because there were no roads. If you did get bogged you had to use

chains, which were put on to the back wheels for grip and it was a very muddy business really. And the cars were all open. We owned a Whippet in 1928. My father bought that. It was ample for 6 children to visit our grandparents who lived up in the mining town of

Stannary Hills. We had aunts and uncles on the dairy farms and then some went to the tobacco growing area of Dimbulah. So occasionally, it was a very long journey we went there.

……

It was an open tourer with a collapsible hood. But he never collapsed it because it was always raining in Malanda. When they played sport everyone went on the railmotor or a train. It was quite cheap to travel to

other towns for sport. And everyone took pride in playing for their little village.

I was really too small. So before that we all had horses. Even though I was only 4 I still had

a horse to ride. My mother rode side saddle with me before that. And then as the babies came along, well, it was good to get off the horse. Every yard had to be fenced because of the horse. And many people had a cow that ran on the town common every day. So there was always a herd of cattle around

the town. And as we developed as children we had to go and find that cow, bring it home and milk it. So we always had fresh milk and in those days it was rich in butter fat so we always had plenty of cream as well. Sometimes we made our own butter but even in those days there

was not the time for Mum to make butter because you had to sit down and turn the handle to churn the butter from the cream. And with the butter factory there so handy our butter was cheap.

Washing. Well everyone had tanks. There was no such thing as town water. Malanda didn’t get town water

for about another 40 odd years, even though the Johnson River ran beside the town. With the tanks, they were huge tanks and all the water had to be carried. They had a copper where they put a fire under this utensil that looked

like a very squat tub. When that boiled the clothes were in there with possibly a tablespoon of kerosene, a little block called ‘Dad’; D-A-D, which was like a soap, compressed soap powder. Otherwise we used to

cut up bars of soap. There was several brands of bar soap. And when the clothes had boiled for several minutes they were then lifted out with a stick to a drainer, which was like a wash basket today. Then we had round tubs. All this was done

possibly in a shed or behind the house. Many people had to just wash in the open. They had these round tubs that were about 3 foot across and 18 inches high, which was filled by buckets filled from the tank. We had what we called ‘Blue’ in one, which was

a little bag with a blue powder in and when it turned light blue you took the bag out. That was to whiten the clothes. We rinsed them in one tub and then into the ‘blue’ tub, then hand ringing, which was terrible because the nappies were always heavy. They were all cloth towelling nappies. And

they had to be washed every day when you had 5 other children in the house. So as children we all learnt how to wash. We had to learn how to cook. We were taught cooking at school one day a week and sewing half a day a week. And I think we all became better citizens because of it and it’s a shame it doesn’t happen today.

Because many children don’t even know how to boil water let alone cook a meal. And teachers would have a pupil-free day during the week if that took place.

It was a timber house. Chamfer board they called it.

We had leadlight windows all around and we always had to have a verandah to dry the nappies because of the rain. I think it rained nearly every other day there in our childhood. We didn’t wear shoes because our shoes would have always been wet. School children never wore shoes.

Again for the same reason. You’d sit in class; it was hot in summer, in winter we had frosts, which was not very pleasant to go to school and sit cold. We had minimum clothing all around. Bedding. Our beds were kapok or fibre mattresses.

No latex in those days. No mosquito nets. Couldn’t afford those. And mosquitoes weren't very bad in my youth until we went to Innisfail.

Not always. Many children were in double beds when they were small.

There might be two or three children in beds. And then as we progressed, we each had our own bed. And because our houses was quite large we managed to have a room each or we slept on the verandahs. There was no fear of robbery whatsoever in those days.

We lived very close to the school so everyone walked. The children that lived on the farms they all rode horses and so the school had to have a horse paddock. And town children loved helping those children because they always had a ride on the horse, from where the horse was in a big paddock. You learnt

how to saddle and put a bridle on. And we were just country children. We could go down to the river and with cotton or string we used to make our own hooks and occasionally catch these little fish. Nearly everyone in the town

learnt to swim.

It wasn’t what I liked to do, it was because I was the eldest; I had to look after children. And so my brothers and sisters didn’t like me very much, so they informed me later in life, because I was the one who always told Mum they were being naughty.

And if I wasn’t looking after children I was possibly helping cook the dinner or peel the vegetables. And help Mum with the housework so there was never much time to enjoy other things. There was a picture show in town and as a treat we often went to the silent movies. And

it was a big thrill the day a talking movie came to Atherton, which was about 12 mile away. And I was fortunate enough to be one of the people who was invited to see that movie. I liked movies in those days. I don’t ever go to the cinema today.

It was a very big hall. With the screen up on the stage. The pianist sat in a pit, an orchestra pit, and played. And a projectionist was in a box

at the other end to the screen and up high, higher than the screen. And he turned a handle at a medium speed to produce the picture on the screen. We saw a lot of Tom Mex etcetera. Nearly all wild west from memory.

In that same hall there were canvas chairs to sit in for the pictures. Those canvas chairs were pushed to the sides of the room if there was to be a dance or a ball. There was sawdust brought from the sawmill in sugar bags or sack bags. They used to pour

kerosene on the floor and children were pulled around on these bags to polish the floor. Then they had boracic acid that was sprinkled on the floor prior to the dance. Everyone went well dressed to these dances. All long frocks. No such thing as jeans.

My parents were good dancers so they saw, when I was about 14, that I could dance. At home we had a piano and we often had people in for sing-songs. And we were taught dancing on our verandahs.

Such things as Barn Dance, Foxtrot, Quick Step, progressive dances. And mainly in little country centres they had one every week and many a time we walked a couple of mile to go to that dance. Especially war time when there was no petrol for cars. Everyone

walked to the dance. But there was no haste. The cows still got milked the next morning.

Yes, yes. If you had high-heeled shoes you carried those and changed when you got to the dance and popped those under the seat. There was always beautiful suppers

served at these dances because farm people were all good cooks. And it was always a very nice supper served. And we were all hungry because they’d all worked hard and walked a fair distance as well. There was always the railmotor

service. When the railway line went through to Millaa Millaa, you could go to different villages on the railmotor. And once a day it went to Cairns. We had to go to Tolga and change at Tolga and then we went to Kuranda, down the Kuranda Range

rail line. Once motorcars started arriving they had to build a road from Cairns to the Tableland, which was called Gillies Highway and that was over very steep mountain terrain. It was only wide enough for

one car at a time so they had that controlled by gates. And you went through one gate at a certain time and through the second gate at another time and they were connected by telephone. When the last car went through, they had set times for this, and I think you paid a shilling or two shillings in those days to travel on that road.

It was very scary looking straight down 1,000 odd feet but very few accidents happened on that range. Today it’s a two-way highway. That was our communication with Cairns. The people set up a car service, a white car service it was called

and you could either go to Atherton or Cairns daily on that.

Well Cairns was the centre where there were shops of all sorts. When you think Malanda had a grocery shop, a couple of banks, one café and then a second café, a little newspaper

office, or a newsagency today, a barber and a chemist and a huge hotel. There was a blacksmith. We used to like watching the blacksmith because he had to work in an open shed because of the heat of the anvil and etcetera, not the anvil the

no, I forget what they called that. And he used these big hammers to hammer the wheels that had been damaged; spring carts and etcetera, buckboards. And he made various springs for those so it was always interesting to see the blacksmith with his big hammer and this red hot

metal that he was bashing.

No, we used kerosene lamps with a glass that was always dirty. Kerosene smoked terribly. So on a Saturday it was children’s jobs to get all these lamp glasses which

they used to call ‘ladies waists’. That was the strange shape but that protected the flame from going out. And the wicks had to be trimmed because the kerosene was very oily. And so children’s jobs on a Saturday morning was to clean the lamps.

Yes it was. We always had black hands from that. And the glass used to smear. There was no cleaning agents like we have today for cleaning glass. And they had to be nicely polished. Some people owned chandeliers and they were on like springs that you could push up higher to the ceiling

and then bring down and clean on a Saturday. Very ornamental and so that was more jobs.

We never…while we were looking for the cow of an afternoon mainly. And our games used to be ‘Tiggy’ or ‘Hide-and-seek’. And a lot of us

played school again. We were really intrigued with the beautiful teachers we had, especially women. They were like role-models for us. They were very strict and they used the cane a lot so we always behaved ourselves.

We all looked up to the teachers; they were very smart. They were very strict but they were very helpful to us. I feel that I had a very good grounding for life. They taught us sport as well and that made them like one of us. They took us

to the athletic meets in those days. The Innisfail School Sports was held in Cairns so all the Tablelands schools went to Cairns by train. We were all very soft skinned on the Tableland and so they used to say were had a peaches and cream complexion or we were like an English rose.

We all became scorched while we were running because we weren't used to that intense heat.

Well, in those days the idea was you put coconut oil on and that cooked us so we all went home very red and suffered sunburn.

Clothing? We all learnt how to sew at school so we all made our own clothing or our own frocks and bought underclothing. Material in those days was very cheap. And recently I saw a photo of 3 girls and on the back is ‘our frocks cost two and nine-pence each’, which today is about

33 cents. Sorry it was 23 cents not 33. Twenty-three cents. And it took 3 yards of material to make. But we were all efficient sewers. Our school clothing our mother made. Even the boys’ trousers were made, even though you could buy them.

Shorts weren't worn in those days but boys wore short trousers, which all had to be washed and ironed of course. Ironing was done with Mother Pott’s irons.

It was a metal shaped

object about the shape of an iron today and it had handles that clipped on. And you stood those on the stove until they got very hot. Then you had to wipe them across a waxed cloth to wipe off any scorch from the wood fire. And sometimes we did burn holes. If we wanted to steam anything in those days you had to use a wet cloth

over your material and then iron over that. Everything had to iron in those days too. Then came petrol irons. And the petrol iron had a little tank called a benzine tank and when you turned it, in gas went through a perforated coil and you put a match to it. Sometimes it was a bit scary because they blew up.

Or blew out enough heat to burn you. And very hard to control those sorts of irons but I don't think we often burnt a hole in things. My father had starched collars, those stiff starched collars and they were terrible to iron with those irons. And they only wore a collar once so they were all attached collars.

Rarely wore hats because I’m sure our parents couldn’t afford it and our teachers never insisted on hats. There was no such thing as a school uniform. You wore what you could find. Sometimes they were pretty worn out clothes but we all went I think reasonably well dressed to school.

Not really although when flared skirts came in I thought that was lovely, like a ballerina. And of course they took a bit more material so there weren't too many of those in the earlier days.

We wore a full,

what we called ‘togs’, which was more like a singlet joined up at the crotch and was of a stretchy material. What type of material I don’t recall. And they were always black. We had swimming sports as well. We had a man in Malanda who

swam in the Olympics; about 1912 I think he started swimming. I’m not sure of that date though. And he saw that all the Malanda children could swim. And the head teacher, even though he didn’t swim, he was very good at training. So we always had water sport as well.

Yes. Loved it. Loved hurdles and all athletics. And girls had to do it all as well as the boys. The only thing we didn’t do was the long jump. Triple jump today I think.

Well I think it might have been time, because

all this was done in our lunch hours or at what we called 11o'clock: Little Lunch. And the teachers used to take us for concentrated sport at that time.

Well the girls cooked and the boys did woodwork. They all had to know how to use a hammer, which boys today

do not know. And learnt metalwork as well as the timber. We had Agricultural Shows where there were always classes for school children’s work. So we all became very good cooks. And the boys entered their work as well.

Maths. Absolutely adored maths. When I sat for the Commonwealth Exam I was the only one in Australia to get 100 per cent in maths, which was written up in a journal in those days, which unfortunately the postmaster kept; I did not. But it was always a big thrill to me to do maths.

I was expected to do that well. It was just something in the family where we were all good at maths. My parents were. I had an uncle as a schoolteacher for a while as well, who stayed with us. And I suppose we all had a good grounding in maths whereas

today children don’t get the opportunity of going and purchasing other than the things they want. In those days you had to do all the grocery shopping and that because Mum was always too busy cooking a meal and so we used to go to the shops with a list. Which in those days weren't put in plastic bags, they were all wrapped in brown paper with string. They

always knew how to wrap a parcel. And we always managed to get home with it without the paper breaking as well. The shops in those days used to have what they called a ‘grocery boy’ who went and collected orders from the houses and then they were delivered by the shops. How they were delivered I don't remember.

Never, never. For our birthdays we were all treated to an ice cream from the café. And at show time there was always an ice-cream churn in one of the stalls and that’s how ice cream was made. There was no refrigeration of course and very few had ice boxes but we could always buy

ice from the butter factory.

They were there but again they were a treat. But that was made up for by our parents being very good cooks and so we always had cake and biscuits.

It was a huge shed. It had hardware on one wall, drapery and materials and groceries on the other wall. And a room out the back held the potatoes and onions and kerosene and benzine that used to come in tins in boxes in those days. Or

children had to fill a bottle. And you could buy a bottle of any of it. And of course with the benzine irons we all had to have a bottle of benzine in the house.

Rarely, rarely. That was considered out of bounds for children

except when we had to go and bottle for him. Or sometimes the cleaner hadn't swept. They didn’t have cleaners as such; the grocery hands had to keep the shop clean. There was no cash registers. All the money went to a girl in an office and she sent the change back on an overhead wire

in a little container. There’s one of these in Charters Towers in a shop at the moment that they have as a demo model of what life was like.

Well, it was on overhead wire that had a spring on a handle and when you pulled the handle that shot

this little container up to the girl in the office. She took the money out, read the docket and sent the change back down the same wire. And it was just like a screw bottle on the wire. That the lid just stayed up on the wire and you just screwed the bottle in.

Very long. The shop opened

at half past eight and closed at half past five and lunchtime on Saturdays. We always had weekends together, which I think, today I don’t like shops open on a Sunday because I think there’s no family life for people. And in those days we had no refrigeration. Our meat and bread had to be bought

by mid-day Saturday so we were able to keep it until Monday. And I think it’s a poor excuse today to say; ‘we have to keep the shops open for people.’ If you could do it in those days you can do it today. The butcher shop, they had their own refrigeration but once it left the shop there was just the ice box at home so meat was bought

daily. Bread likewise. At Easter when the shops closed Thursday and opened Tuesday your bread had to bought Thursday, meat likewise. But in those days you could buy bacon that kept so most of us had bacon. But the bread by Tuesday was quite mouldy.

So crusts were cut off etcetera and my mother was a good scone maker so we often had scones.

I just could not remember. We go from school home for lunch but it was very quick because we had to get back for our sport.

Possibly there was just bread and butter and I remember cheese that used to go oily on that plate.

Yes. Well because it was always warm it wasn’t actually hot, because it was always warm and no way of the cheese ever being cold; the oil used to just seep out. We had a cheese factory

about 3 miles out of town so we had fresh cheese.

Again I couldn’t tell you how many but I would doubt if it hit 1,000 in my youth. Everyone knew everyone else and knew

where they lived. And I think in that there were no burglaries, they were never heard of. There was no scandal either because everyone knew everyone else.

The police station originally in 1911 was a one room building

and if they had prisoners, the daughter of that policeman I was speaking to recently she said; she recalls anyone that was jailed was just chained to the end of the house. So I don't know how they got on in any weather. I’m looking forward to meeting her again to find out all these things that you think about afterwards.

I never went to that one even though I played with that girl as a school child. But I saw the trees being felled for where the new police station and courthouse was to be built. And they were quite big trees and it was quite interesting to see them being felled

by axe and saws. No chain saws in those days either.

Well offhand I don't remember. All I remember is they were big trees. I know there was one called a quandong. But

what trees I don't know. When the police station was built, that policeman that had lived there first was transferred and a friend of my father’s, he became the next policeman. We were invited there quite regularly because that’s the only entertainment there was; of visiting other families.

And the jail was built of slabs of timber, no sawn timber, just slabs. And it was like 2 humpies. The jail surround was slab timber so far up and like a big yard that was locked up.

And I recall going to the boy’s birthday at the police station; he was 6. And he received a cricket set so we were in the back yard playing cricket and in the jail yard were a mob of blacks that had been rounded up from a place called Topaz, which is in the Bellenden Ker Range.

And they were what we used to call ‘wild blacks’. From memory they were to be transferred to Palm Island because of leprosy and there they were going to be treated with a drug called chaulmoogra. While we were playing cricket we were called to afternoon tea on the verandah, which was a high set

house. And one of the blacks escaped over the wall, picked up the cricket bat and hit the policeman. Resulting in all the blacks returning to the Topaz area where they had to be rounded up once more. They all escaped, yes they all escaped. Several of the townspeople had

to go and help the policeman round up what I think may have been called the Russell River blacks.

Because the Russell River rose in Bellenden Ker Range and that was just the name of that particular tribe or the white man’s name for that tribe. I remember going, as a

child, we were invited to a tribe outside Millaa Millaa down into the Beatrice Gorge and they were called Beatrice Gorge blacks. And my father drove this car and we all climbed out at a fence, the blacks met us and they carried the young ones down. It was very, very steep down

into the gorge. I remember the March flies were shocking. But down there they grew bananas and the fish in the river all looked black. Apparently the blacks lived on fish a lot there. But they seemed to all be shorter blacks; they weren't the normal size. Wore little clothing.

But it was a lovely day out for children there because we were all carried around; except me of course.

I was slightly older than my brothers and sisters. But it was a nice way to spend the day at the river.

Well, to me they had very bright eyes and I was scared. Mainly I think because they used to call them wild blacks. We had blacks, the Aboriginal women used to wash for people. When Mum was sick or

in hospital with a babe they came and did our washing. They used to come with many dresses on, which surprised us children; how they could put one dress on top of another. They smoked a pipe. Sometimes they brought their little piccaninnies with them and they were beautiful

to look at but they always seemed to have colds. And I felt that’s why the black babies were taken away at a certain time; to be looked after by white people because so many of those little black children were dying from influenza. When the blacks did the washing

they had to have morning tea and lunch. You had to give them a bag of sugar, a bag of tea, a plug of tobacco. Tobacco didn’t come in packets in those days. They came in cardboard packets but they didn’t come in cellophane. But they generally smoked a plug tobacco, which they’d quite often put in their pipes. And

5 shilling it cost to do the washing. And they often confiscated some of the washing.

Well, it was missing when we wanted a certain item. We found that the black person must have taken it. Especially handkerchiefs. Lace handkerchiefs.

All the handkerchiefs in those days were crocheted around. Many women had spare time, especially in their aged years; they learnt to do fancy work. Beautiful fancywork and crochet.

Oh yes. We just accepted them as one of us really.

Well possibly, I don't remember that but I know we just chattered away in child talk I guess. Or talked about the little Aborigine girls with them, or boy.

I thought they were lovely. The babies were always very pretty and the Aboriginal

women seemed to be plump and cuddly looking. Some were quite big really, possibly because they had white man’s food as well as black man’s food in those days. Talking of playing in a yard, there was no such thing as a lawn mower. The cow was

the lawn mower. Everyone almost had a cow to rely on milk. And they ran on the town common. And one of the children had to round up the cow for their yard and so the cows stayed in the

yard overnight and so the lawn was always chewed down by the cow. And of course those that had horses they were in that yard as well. We got used to walking around animals. Some had fowls. But nearly everyone had that cow to milk.

Yes. We had cats or dogs.

Mainly cats because our parents couldn’t afford the meat for the dogs. They were flat out feeding children without feeding dogs. Many times the cats were poisoned and so later in life I couldn’t stand to even touch a cat because knowing how many times our cats had been poisoned.

We rose, had our breakfast, all had to make our own beds. Our beds had either kapok or fibre mattresses, which had to be turned every week. And we all had heavy blankets. There was no such thing as

doonas in those days. Later eiderdowns came along, which were much lighter but the feathers used to fly out of those and make an awful mess. Made our beds, had to milk the cow first and that was one of my jobs because I was the oldest for a long time.

The milk then had to be put in jugs for Mum. If we were going to have cream they had to go into another basin for cream for butter or to have as a dessert. We collected our books and went to school. We all had exercises to do nearly every night. And that was with the old pen and

ink, which there was always blotted exercise books. And we went to school, ran home for lunch and I think that might have been bread and cheese or bread and jam. Sometimes our mother used to make jam.

But fruit wasn’t always plentiful in those days. They used to make marmalade the children didn’t like. Then we raced back to school to play sport. Sometimes we played it after school. School finished at 4 o'clock in those days. And home, afternoon tea; Mum used to often have scones made.

And we, one of us, had to go and find the cow and it again had to be milked. There was the washing to be got off the line and folded up, always with 6 children. Vegetables had to be peeled and food prepared for our dinner. Someone had to set the table and we had to

wash up in tin dishes; that was terrible. Hot water off the stove, we had no running water in those days we just relied on tanks. And when we wanted to wash we had to carry water. We used to have to boil

up water in a copper….

That was again done out of a dish and we had to have a bath in a round tub once a week. There was no bathing every day in those days for the water…in those days also with the water there was the cane beetle when the sugar

was growing. And so when the stormy weather came those cane beetles came out and they came over the Tablelands in clouds. You would not expect them to come over the mountains from the cane flats but they were there in clouds. And because all our rooves were silver they took it for water or we think they took it

for water and so they used to hit the rooves and be in the gutters. And so a lot of children in summer got what we called Beetlitus and we were very thankful the day the cane toad came and ate those beetles. But there were just so many beetles that those cane toads must have grown very fat very quickly.

It was like a diarrhoea caused through water,

through the rain on the roof washing into the tank and the dead beetles, the effects of the dead beetles; which wasn’t very pleasant. Sometimes the water had a terrible smell and of course you couldn’t get up there every day and clean out your gutters and our fathers seemed to be very busy at work anyway.

They

were about 2 to 3 centimetres long and about a centimetre high. They had quite a good wing span. And they must have been very good fliers. Like the flying foxes, they could cross those ranges for fruit as the beetles did for… why they

flew on the Tableland I do not know because cane did not grow there in those days. Today it does. There was a lot of corn grown but they didn’t appear to be in the corn paddocks; it was just mainly in that cane down on the coastal flats.

We were given junket tablets and things like that.

I think gradually we became immune to it.

Only with colds. Diphtheria went through the school and we lost several children through diphtheria in one year, which was all very sad. Apart from just normal colds, chickenpox and

measles; no, there was no other outbreaks. We did have a boy at school that did have polio though. But little was known even of polio in those days.

Well

we just took it as normal because we had always been used to going without and so it was really no different to us that I can remember. We had an uncle that was a baker and we had another uncle that was a butcher so I don't know if we got cheaper meat but we could have.

Sometimes grandad used to bring in a rooster, or an uncle used to do that, so we would have a change of meal. On weekends, Sundays, we always used to have a first class meal on Sundays for lunch, which was always a roast dinner and a sweet to follow.

We lived on lots of soups and I think a lot of bread.

Mainly went to sport. That was while we lived on the Tableland.

My father played football so we went on the train to inter-towns sports. And at times that was a very one sided way of looking at sport in those days; that you fought for your town and the children

used to get into fights. Many a time the glass bottles were thrown. A band always played at those sports before the football match or basketball match whatever. They generally played both sports close together and on the same day.

Once I was the recipient of a bottle being thrown and I had a split chin from the thrown bottle. But we did see many a fight where small glass bottles were thrown.

It was in those days and even the men used to fight at times. Just through

the determination to win. Maybe it was very patriotic.

We had good teams. I think we might have won as much as we lost but they were all-round sportsmen.

I had to stay at school until I was 14. So I had to do scholarship 3 times because I was too young to leave and take up a job.

There were the Black Wars or the war with the Chinamen that when we used to visit our uncles the children sat on the floor waiting to be taken home at night and so we used to listen to what had gone on

you know, with the Chinese and the blacks. What they used to do to them. And that was always scary to children because when we were going home then we reckoned we could see that shadow moving. Then came the talk of war on the Continent and it just seemed too far away.

And we used to get the Cairns Post every day and they wrote a bit about it but it just did not belong to our era at that time. And being teenagers, well, who cared? But when war was declared I remember that night very clearly. I was working

and I had to walk home in the dark and walking down this avenue of trees I could picture seeing soldiers that I had seen on the movie screen might pop out from behind a tree. But still didn’t realise what was going to happen.

Well our head teacher at school,

he was a returned soldier and he had had frostbite. He used to get a bit cranky at times with the frostbite. But other than what he told us and when Anzac Day came we were all very proud little children going up to the flagpole etcetera. But not a great deal

was relayed about the actual war. And then one by one our young men that we thought, ‘Oh one day we might marry him or etcetera’, started joining up and we had to have a send off for them. So there was always a dance. And they were presented with this and that in the way of comforts they used to call them.

And then gradually most of the men went. There was just essential service around.

I had a friend; I used to just say he was more or less a teenage sweetheart that I was very friendly with and we did everything together.

But no actual boyfriend. And when we went to the dances we were all one big family because most of the families had at least 8 to 10 children and there was so much intermarriage, we were just one big, happy family. And it’s hard to see

today when there’s only 1 or 2 children in a family that they don’t have all this family connection. When I go back to north Queensland, there’s so many people to see that there’s no time to have a holiday really. But it’s always lovely, you’re just as accepted as the day you left. And with the boys going off to war then the girls had to do more work on

the farms and it was the end of 1939/40 that I went to Innisfail. We saw a lot more soldiers there then I had in Malanda. I remember firstly, when I was in Malanda, the first casualty came through. And the

telegrams used to come over the wire and so the postmaster got word and he was the one that had to go and tell the parents that their son had died. And that was a big shock to the town; that war had actually slapped us

in the face. That’s what we felt.

Oh yes. We went to school with them. They were in my class, a lot of the boys that went away.

They just attempted to help the parent. There was nothing much you could do other than say;

‘We've got to send more comforts to these boys’. And it was all a shock really.

Yes I did. They had been transferred to Innisfail and I was boarding. And it was nice boarding but at the same time you missed your family.

And the roads were in such a bad state, there was no petrol for cars, so you didn’t see them very often. And that was one reason why I wanted to get a transfer to Innisfail; to say I was back home. My brothers were too young to join up but by the end of the war they had joined the cadets

and they were preparing for war, which we felt greatly at the time.

No, not at all. It was all a big adventure. Because most of them had never had to get out of area; there was always work for them. A few had gone to

a school in Cairns or Townsville but Brisbane was a long way away.

I really think it was just one of surprise because there was so much talk

so much written in the newspapers that it possibly would not happen. And it was a big surprise when they said; ‘Well war has broken out’. But I don't think the actual thought of what war meant to Australia, they didn’t know what it meant at that time.

When we saw all the fellows in those very hot khaki suits, heavy boots. How they ever got around in them and danced in them you wonder. The town became very conscious that they had to help and so many dances were held. No boy went without

there being a farewell for him. When he came on leave, again he was feted. I think that they took great pride in the fact that they were able to help in some way. Many boys could not go because they were in essential service. But those

on the dairies etcetera, where girls could replace them, well they went. The land army was formed for girls. And so it was the land army that built the airfields around Mareeba and helped with the Rocky Creek Hospital outside Tolga.

I was still a telephonist and I was called essential service.

And so your life was governed. Once Japan came into the war you were not allowed to leave north Queensland. There was a line near Ingham that you had to get a permit if you wanted to go beyond that line, south. And another permit to re-enter.

We noticed the shortages of food mainly because rolling stock on the railways was not being built because those men had gone to war. And so when Japan had come into the war and our army came back from El Alamein, they were stationed outside Ravenshoe. And so

food had to be found for them so boats, which by then had been confiscated for the war, that used to carry the vegetables from Tasmania, they weren't operating . So everything had to come by rail. And we had the famous Burdekin River and the bridge. That was once a few inches of rain fell

over went the bridge and so there was more hold ups and so less food again. Many a time there weren't potatoes and things in the north.

We were more or less restricted to what we spoke about. When I went

to Innisfail on transfer, the Italians had all ready been rounded up, the men, and taken to the camp in New South Wales and so the ladies had to run the farms. No one was allowed to speak on the telephone in anything but English. Our job was supervising, ‘Please speak in English’. I don't know

what the women ever thought because a lot of them couldn’t really speak English.

We had to interrupt them yes. It was all manual boards except in Cairns where it was automatic. But all trunk lines had to go through our switchboards. And so

we had to monitor with keys the conversations and of course that was strictly kept to ourselves. We weren't allowed to repeat what we ever heard. When the army was setting up too, they had to use our lines as well until they had their own landlines.

Oh yes, yes. Mainly we were far too busy anyway to really listen to conversations but as soon as you heard someone speaking in another tongue you had to tell them. Anything you heard that was serious you had to write down in a book. When I was in

Tully especially. And there were lots of secret meetings going on around Tully. I don't know if we were under a different system there because it never happened when I went back to Innisfail or Cairns.

Well I was transferred from Innisfail into Tully because they were short of girls in Tully.

Because it was a very big Italian town, the Black Hand Gang had worked there prior to…which is more like a mafia at work. And certain men controlled the town. And so they used to have these secret meetings. And if we heard there was to be a meeting it had to be written down.

And that book then was viewed by the postmaster who had to relate it to a man in Townsville. But apart from that we did not know the reasons why or what went on at those meetings other than what was town gossip.

Well the town gossip was that they wanted to store guns, they wanted

to collect guns and etcetera. And where they were going to be hidden and etcetera. But I never saw where they were hidden or if they were ever hidden. But there was a movement that was looking for guns and ammunition at that time. When I was in Innisfail I met my future husband. He was

on the technical staff for the PMG in those days; the Postmaster General’s Department, and could not be called up. Much to his disgust. But they had to do essential training and after we were married, each week they had to go and still do their training. A 303

rifle was always at our back door. I don't know if there were bullets in it. I don’t recall that. But he would have had bullets because they already had instructions that after the fall of Singapore and the nuns were murdered, their instruction were if the Japs landed in Australia.

they would have to shoot all the white population except soldiers because they weren't going to have those atrocities carried out to our children or their wives etcetera.

Yes they had to kill their own wives. Yes. And that’s why they had to take the guns home and be ready at all times.

Oh yes. We knew, yeah. It was general knowledge. Yes. Because the atrocities were so bad. I think we never thought it would ever happen to us but at the same time it was a precaution. And I think we just all accepted it.

Although I never liked the gun standing there you know. And I was the one that had to shift it to sweep and that sort of thing. They’re quite heavy things. Only ever shot out of one later in life and that was a big thing.

Actually I argued with him first because he wanted

something to do with the line that I wasn’t prepared as the telephonist to let him have. I had never seen him then but they say you argue first and then you fall in love. And we were engaged for some time and then decided because the war was so imminent. By then the Americans had come into it. The

Coral Sea Battle was about to be fought. And we decided we’d get married. And just say; well at least we’ve had a year or so together because we still didn’t think it was as close as it really was. And even being in communication, by that time I was in Cairns, we used to talk to all the boys on the switches around the place because you had to work at night.

And it was terribly hard staying awake for the few calls but there were always 2 girls on duty. And so we heard of all the dreadful things that happened to many of the boys; we knew because we used to meet them at parties. And it just felt, well, make the most of the time we have. Whereas

we were lucky. We came through it. Food shortages were about the worst thing because there was very little fruit of any description because when the Americans came into the war they too were stationed in north Queensland as well and they had to be fed.

So we were told boil up different leaves for greens and that. In summer you couldn’t grow your own vegetables whereas on the Tableland you could. But then they didn’t have the water. Whereas in Innisfail or Cairns we had running water.

We still had the wedding gown and the borrowed veils. Everyone borrowed someone else’s veil. And instead of having a sit-down dinner it used to be sandwiches and cake and the like. Very little spirits or beer. That was a no-no. You just couldn’t

buy it. I remember when my sister got married all they could buy was champagne. And having not drunk champagne to that date we were all slightly intoxicated and looking for lemonade or something which was not available.

It was a church wedding and

we hired a hall and had all the guests. Fair enough a lot of the guests were people in the army that some were absent but it was still a happy wedding. For a honeymoon, to try and find a place where there weren't soldiers, we went to a little township called Mount Mulligan.

We were there about a week and who blows in but an army truck. But at Mount Mulligan you could still buy chocolates with the silver paper on. Whereas that was a no-no in Cairns or any of the other towns; there was just no sweets to buy because those factories were no doubt confiscated to other jobs.

And no workmen of course as well. We saw a lot of soldiers through my parents’ house. When the Americans came it was open house as well and there was often some soldier sitting at our table for a meal. How our parents afforded it I have no idea but they managed.

Just to be friendly, those boys were away from home. We had Australian soldiers first and then when the Americans came they were also invited. And my mother particularly wanted us to marry an American but my sister did and she regretted it I think all her life. She said it was a happy

time when they were together but it wasn’t when she was away from all her family as well.

I think just because it was a chance to see the world. That was the opinion of most people in those days. Don’t stay in the town you’re in now because it’s a backwater. And

the Americans were always so nicely dressed and had those silk stockings and everything else that girls loved.

No not really. I couldn’t take to their smugness somehow. They didn’t seem genuine to me.

Yes different. Entirely

different. I like my brother-in-law but I think I just as much preferred an Aussie. Again I think that’s patriotism coming to the fore.

I wasn’t married to him then. In those days once you were married a woman couldn’t work. Even

though there was a shortage of women. It seems ridiculous but that was the law; if you were married you gave up your job; which I did do. And often thought, ‘Well the married women whose husbands were at war they were allowed to work but if you had somebody supporting you, you weren't allowed to work’. And I think life would have been a lot easier for us had we all worked.

Not really. Just too busy trying to keep a house. And because we walked everywhere, it was nothing to walk a couple of kilometres to buy a loaf of bread or buy the meat and then you had to carry it home again as well. So a lot of our time was taken up walking I think. Some people rode pushbikes but even

those weren't available either to most. And with the cars, well, they were allowed so much petrol a month I think it was, when they went on to rationing. And so my father just kept his petrol for special occasions. and my husband had to drive the Telecom trucks.

So sometimes I got a lift with them even though it was out of bounds. But most times we just walked and didn’t think anything of walking a couple of kilometres to the pictures and going home again.

Yes. Yes I did. Although he came to

Tully quite often because that was in his district and he went as far as Babinda and then down to Tully. And they all had to ride pushbikes in those days they didn’t have vehicles. But once the Americans came they had these big trucks that were I think on lend-lease from America and so they were able to get

around in trucks then. But they just rode 40 miles on a pushbike to fix up a telephone.

Tully was a quiet town. Apart from the comforts part there wasn’t a great deal happening. They had a picture show if you could afford to go.

In those days we were saving for getting married so there was no money for a picture show. And rarely was my husband there at night to go to a picture show. Then I was transferred to Cairns and that was a very lively city because there were soldiers, soldiers and more soldiers. Even the Cairns exchange and post office were under guard. And

girls weren't allowed to go home at night without an army escort. You were picked up, if it was after dark and you were taken home if it was still dark. Before that happened girls were accosted in the streets because there were so many soldiers. Where did they go? They just congregated in the streets.

At times, yes. Yes. I always carried a hatpin, which I still have today. Every girl I think carried one of those because you never knew. But on the whole I don't think there was that much accosting going on.

Well, they weren't drunk because there was nothing to drink in the hotels. They were all on restricted rations too. It was just that they congregated in the streets for something to do. Or went to a dance if there was a dance on. They were always crowded the dances. A lot of the telephonists

that lived in Cairns used to have parties for the boys and everyone, it was open house. And it was just a case of going and talking because even tea was rationed and none of us drank tea anyway in those days. It was just water.

Oh yes. I think that went on quite a bit. But

I think today girls are more show-offy types than they were in those days. We were all just rather genteel or we thought we were.

No. they seemed to behave themselves. Those that I’d met. I lived in a boarding house that had

soldiers coming in all the time and never knew of one that even attempted to be fresh. But always wanted to talk to you. They were craving for girl company as well.

No, no, no, that wasn’t discussed either.

Surprisingly, it was all very, what would you call it? No, I don't know the word I’m looking for.

Well mainly through books or

going to doctor’s surgeries and seeing slips of paper. But on the whole I think we were very ignorant of life really. Because our parents didn’t discuss it either. They were just such an old English type, that talk

is forbidden. And I didn’t hear of it really until my children were going to school and they were saying; ‘Oh you have to come to a meeting tonight, you know, this health nurse is coming’, and so on and so on. But I think we all brought up our babies very ignorantly really but they all seemed to come up very healthy didn’t they?

Not really. Because nobody owned telephones in their houses, well very few, they were nearly all business phones. It wasn’t until well after the war that people started to have a phone connected for private use.

I’m close to all of them.

Very close. Not one of them you would say is stand-offish or anything. My sister in America has died but even with her, when she came home, she just sat at the table as one of us again.

I’m well looked after by my family today. My brother lives very handy and sees that I am taken here and there and all the purchasing that I need to be done is done by him as a rule.

We were in an upstairs room with a very long line of switchboards. I think it took about 15 girls and we had what we called a monitor and she could listen into any conversation on any of the boards to see that we were correctly addressing; number please etcetera.

And it was very fast work and you had to be very manipulative with your hands because plugs had to be put in and switches thrown etcetera. And you had to be answering about 4 or 5 calls at once, waiting on someone connecting you on a trunk call. A lot of businesses in Cairns because it was the city of the north at that time.

All the girls were very friendly. Had to be. You’d never work together. All invited to their homes.

No, I think it was all exciting to live by the sea. And because the exchange in those days

was very close to the sea I used to get lunch and go out and sit. And sometimes I had a swim at the aquatic pool that was there. And I would go back with wet hair because there were no bathing caps. But I really enjoyed just walking out onto the sea front and enjoying the ocean.

It was only 2 streets away. It was really in the business part of Cairns. That was good.

The boarding house was a 2-storey place. I don't know how many it held. We had a large

dining room. Each person had their own room. We had to share a bathroom and the toilets, still in those days, were down the back yard; which is surprising for Cairns at that time. I don't know if that was in every house, I don’t recall. But that was the only thing I didn’t appreciate was going down in the dark,

because with blackouts you weren't allowed to use lights at night. Or if you had a lamp on or electric light in Cairns, all the curtains had to be drawn. The streets were patrolled by VDC [Volunteer Defence Corps] I think they called themselves, which were a gang of soldiers that were too old to go to war.

They were still dressed as soldiers. And they patrolled the streets for lights etcetera for sabotage purposes.

Well, this group of soldiers that patrolled, not only did they do that sort of work, they were in uniform, they were put as ‘spotters’ on the coast here, there and everywhere: the tip of Cape York and Iron Range.

Anywhere I think where boats could come in. and they had to notify headquarters of what they saw every day. Also at a place called Adele’s Grove there was a VDC camp and he grew all the vegetables and fruit to supply to all these people that lived out in the ‘never never’. But a really essential part of

our spy ring.

Yes, yes. Too old to go to war or they might have had an infirmity like they might have a broken leg or had something wrong with their chest that they couldn’t go or kidneys. Lots of things you were put out of the army for. And so they came in mighty handy to be more or less our spies.

Oh no. They were our friends. If in doubt, if you didn’t feel safe you could approach those men quite easily.

Sometimes. I was there during the one raid they had. The siren went off and so everyone ran into the street. And these VDC

men were trailing the streets screaming through hailers; ‘Get back inside.’ But we were trying to see where the aeroplane was. And anyhow that bomb apparently dropped between Mosman and Cairns. I’m not sure of the location but that’s where they said it dropped.

I think we were all to the stage then that we

knew that war could come to us. And we lived day by day really. As long as we had enough to eat. And even at the boarding house food just seemed to be very scarce and because I walked the streets to work I used to watch all the little shops; you know that today they might have a banana for sale and things like that. It was just impossible

to buy things.

I think fresh fruit and mainly bananas. I had eaten a grapefruit once. I saw one in a shop and I just ate it like an orange and I ended up in hospital because they said the grapefruit itself was too old and had reacted as more a poison

than the acid in it. A week in hospital and I was out again. In those days they kept you in hospital to make sure you were okay. It wasn’t like today, you’re in and you’re out. Talking of sabotage, I recall a story. My father was transferred from Innisfail to a place called Japoon,

where there was a big shed. They were going to store a lot of food for the towns in case the towns were bombed. And so he was transferred to there. Again he was in charge of first a very little switchboard, about a foot square, that connected the public telephone or a few people

that did have phones because it was a cane growing area, to the outside world. And after the Japs had come into the war and the Italian men had gone, the women were quite friendly, most of the Italian women in that area. They still had dances and they

still had cane cutters and that; they were all entertained. My father got a phone call one day to say that 2 nuns had called at this woman’s place and she was very suspicious because when they sat she could see they had no shoes on their feet. And so my father, because he was one of

these VDCs in that ranking, he rang someone else somewhere and these two were picked up at Silkwood, which was on the main railway line. And they turned out they were Jap spies. Yes, just because that woman had seen them sit down and noticed that they didn’t have shoes on under their gowns. And they had walked everywhere. They were

walking from farm to farm. We don’t know what for. But presumably to find the lay of the land and if the Japs had landed, knew where to hide possibly. I don't know.

There was when

the men went to Ravenshoe. They were very suspicious of people that had tin mines because outside Herberton, which isn’t too far from Ravenshoe, there were the mines and then they knew someone was communicating and they caught a father and son in that area. They had equipment down one of the mineshafts.

Again people we knew; you know that was a big shock. How could you talk about your own friends to these people. They were German.

I wasn’t in Innisfail then when that happened but

everyone knew that they were being taken to that reserve. I did remember the name the other day and I’ve forgotten it again.

They were very antagonistic some of them. And some of the women in Innisfail became very antagonistic. Because everything was so scarce

my father said he was often spat on by the Italian women if they asked for eggs or tobacco or things like that, that they just didn’t have.

I don't think so. I think we accepted them as our friends. In Tully it might have been slightly different because of the

mafia that went on there. And when you see the mausoleums in the Tully cemetery you realise that those men must have been big in their own community.

They were just ordinary Italians but you know they have glass mausoleums there in the cemetery

in their honour. I never went in close enough because when I was in Malanda and they said: ‘Oh, we want you all to learn first aid.’ And all the teenagers had to go and learn first aid. When we went into the room and there was this skeleton hanging I couldn’t stand it. I left. So I never learnt first aid.

No. but now they say that’s where you go for all the history. But in those days, no.

They were a group of men that came out from Italy and then they used to bring out more Italians. And all those men worked very

hard. And they all put their money into one farm and that farm then belonged to one of the group. And then another person would say; ‘Well, I would like that land.’ And so they all worked for him. But apparently they were under strict instructions of what they always had to do. There were a few murders

that were never sort of flushed out in Tully. And they always blamed the Black Hand Gang. They all wore black shirts incidentally, so you knew you were amongst them.

I just felt that it was a very dark town. I think mainly because people did all dress in black, mainly.

It was a town I didn’t take to very much. I was pleased to get out of it.

Again I lived at a type of boarding house which was only one street off the main street. It wasn’t hard to walk home at night but here again you had to do everything in the dark. And so we all I think developed

cat's eyes in those days. Had to.

I wasn’t at the time. It was only after I left that I thought I should have been more afraid than I was. You just sort of accepted that was that way of life. And I didn’t go out very much at night in Tully, other than to

work and home again. And then you knew that there were always people in those shops even if the doors were closed, there were people handy.

Well it was a sugar growing area. A very, very big sugar growing area. Again with the soot and stuff and gas from the mill. Which is all the

loose leaf off the sugar cane the town was full of it. It was up in your ceiling and in your house if the wind blew. It was just to me a dirty town.

Oh yes, yes. But I didn’t join in the social atmosphere of Tully whatsoever. I

just went to work and went home again. And even if I wanted to go back to my parents I had to get permission to leave Tully because you were expected to be there to be called on as an essential service.

Once or twice. A ton of strife when I did and they found out.

Once was Christmas and I thought, ‘Why would I be staying in a town like this when my parents are only a few mile away and I can be with them’. But girls were too hard to get, telephonists, so other than a big reprimand…

Lovely, healthy teenager wanting to see the world.

And see Australia. My husband and I had the same view that one day we’d travel. We always made sure wherever we lived that we checked it pretty thoroughly.

Mainly go to the café and have sandwiches and something to drink. Milk was still reasonably plentiful and we had milkshakes and occasionally an ice cream if we could afford it.

Oh yes, yes. It was only when I went back to Innisfail and we

went to the movies and odd dances. By then we’d just about given up dancing. But before that it was every night we used to go dancing in Innisfail when we first went there, because there were always soldiers around to dance with and it was a good way of life.

He was very reserved but very knowledgeable person. Always reading books and studying and always wanting to get on in the world. Made our own furniture because furniture you couldn’t buy either. There were a few places where you could

buy second hand furniture when we were married. But fortunately a man who was in the air force allowed us to use his house, until he was put out of the air force with some problem. And so we moved from house to house around Innisfail like that until we built our own home. And he was always building something.

Oh yes. Yeah. He was just accepted as one of the family.

When a vacancy became apparent in Innisfail I just applied for it and got it. Otherwise I spent my time on the rail motor going from Cairns to Innisfail.

And that was all expenses. And to walk to the rail from where my parents lived in Innisfail was a good several kilometres. But that was the only way you could get to the railway station anyway. Innisfail had their annual show and their race meetings and things

still to support soldiers.

Well, it wasn’t their business. Dad just worked for what was to become Coles eventually. And then when

the Italian women became too cheeky he decided he’d go into a hardware place so he was just one of the working boys there.

That would have been after the war. Or pretty close to the end of the war because he said, you know, he had by then become very tired of being spat upon or

called names as well. They were quick to tell him, you know; you had it under the counter for someone else. But that was never the case. And we used to go fishing a lot in Innisfail because it’s on the junction of two rivers. That was always a happy pastime. As well as rewarding.

Jubilation. Absolute jubilation. We always had a phone on because of the essential service and so my husband rang and said the war is over and I’m coming to get you because everyone is coming into the town. And everyone came into the town and there was

horn blowing and singing out and flags flying. And the council said, ‘We’re all going to meet in Jubilee Park at a certain time and bring something for lunch’, and it was a very happy time. And then they had a street parade a week or so later. All the floats and

that, that the war is finally over. And that was lovely to see everyone coming back. And the Americans were packing up. And all the big camps on that Tableland where they buried so much stuff down gullies; foodstuff and that. Years later, one uncle, he was on this property

and when he went down one gully to do some digging he dug up a bag of peas, of dried blue peas. They were still edible. And things like that.

I think we all became very friendly again to those that returned. It was sad seeing a lot of

people returning to their own townships. I was pleased to see the end of the Americans but then my sister went as well. We just lived a normal life then. Foodstuffs became available. We were all I think anaemic because there was meat rationing as well as everything else.

The butter was rationed. It was just a happy time then.

Not really. They all shut up shop like the 1st World War men. And I don't think they ever wanted to know anything more, to tell their stories. But very few,

other than in Changi you know, what they ate or how they saw a grain of rice they’d pick it up out of the dirt and enjoy it.

Oh yes, yes. Lost a few friends as well over there.

They were all from Malanda.

I think certain groups were allocated to go to Singapore and that was their first port of call and that’s where they were all caught or trapped.

More or less the way they lived, their sanitary

conditions and little clothing, warmth. Very little to eat. Mainly soups. And how they worked hard on the railway. How they weren't game to say they were as ill as they really felt. That they just had to keep on working until they dropped.

Oh yeah. Yes. They looked like anaemic skeletons really. That took a long time for some of them to fill out again. I think some never ever picked up from that shock to their bodies.

A little bit revolted about it all.

You could get quite upset but I don’t think we had time then because our children were on the way. We were too busy trying to grow our own vegetables and do our own things.

Well, at the end of the war

we had bought a block of land and we thought, ‘Oh, we’ll have a Housing Commission home. And unfortunately the architect had it all as fibro and in those days you couldn’t buy fibro. Even though we’d got a builder and he’d given us a price, he said, ‘I just can't find the fibro for it. So we’ll have a temporary house put on your

land.’ Which they did. Made of chamfer board timber. And then my husband went about lining it and building yards and WAS DOUBLE QUOTE CHOOK pens and that; that kept us busy. And then we had our two children and he was still studying and was transferred back to Malanda.

Which when I went back I thought was a very hot and dry because all the trees had been felled on the Tableland then. And the rainfall wasn’t there from our youth. Then he applied for another transfer and we got Beaudesert and we stayed there then until he retired.

Two years only. And it was nice to see all my old school friends but that’s when we began to feel all those that were missing. Or it was for me. It brought back a lot of sad memories. So we were pleased to get away and start a new life down in

Beaudesert.

Well, we were still friendly but the shadow of that person you always felt. You couldn’t say anything but you felt that the shadow was there and felt sorry for them. And then they’d say:

‘Oh, your brothers and sisters didn’t go to war.’ But they were all to young at that age. Except this one brother who had come up from the cadets. And he was just about due to be the next off the list.

Oh we were, yes.

Uncles went away and one came back with a bullet through his lung and that. We had sadness as well because he didn’t live long. Others that went to El Alamein, they came back more or less wizened from the desert. I don't know if it was that hot sort of clothing that they wore or

what but they just seemed to grow into old men very quickly.

They didn’t like mentioning war. They more or less talked of our youth together and what it was like.

No. No. they didn’t want to know. They didn’t want to remember I think.

They never said they had nightmares or anything like that from it but no doubt they did have.

Not really, no. No. It was still the dairying district as it is today. Except the railway’s closed down and so everyone…

there's big trucks on the roads like everywhere else.

14.

Yes. 14 was the age you could leave and you could take a job. I had had

helped a woman in a boarding house. Seven and six a week I got from 7am to 7pm, practically every day I think. But that was more or less my mother’s way of saying; help this lady. Which most people did in those days. And then when this telephonist’s opportunity came I left school,

oh, at the end of the year I left and went into that almost immediately.

Oh yes. Anything to get into high-heels I think. High-heels and pointed shoes.

I would say there would be 30 to 40 in every class.

We had a long desk each with the inkwell and nearly every room was the same except babies. But there was no such thing as kindergarten in those days. I was one of the privileged children that was allowed to go and sit in the classroom from about the age of 4 because I went with friends. But you just sat

there and did what you were told. And I think that might have been a helping hand to remembering things in later life.

No, no. There was never time. You were flat out by the time all the dishes were washed at night and put away and your homework was done.

No, there was no time for parent supervision. Because they were too busy either preparing for the next day’s food or my father used to go back at work at night sometimes if the books hadn't balanced for the office girl. My mother had to sew so there was no time to help children. But she sewed a fair

bit at night and then the time came: ‘Well I can't thread that machine needle any more. You’re eyes are better than mine, please thread it.’ I can remember that on many occasions. And we did all our homework by kerosene lamps, which was a very poor light really. If you went outside you carried a lantern, which was sort of a tin

affair that was closed in that the wind wouldn’t blow the light out. Torches weren't even invented in those days I don't think. I remember going with my father one night back to the shop and I remember him using a torch to see if somebody might be standing behind the door to rob or anything. It was just some habit he’d got into to;

check before you stepped inside the door. I think I was pretty old as a child when the torches started to come around.

No. again he was a youth just coming up to…he was born in 1902

and by the time the war was finished he was just ready to go. His father was a train driver so I would say again he was essential service. And in those days, living in Stannary Hills, that meant a hill of tin and they supplied a lot of tin for the factories in those days so

no, I don't think that he would have been able to go either.

Not immediate uncles or aunts because Dad was the oldest in that family. In my mother’s family great uncles went but not just the uncles; for me anyway.

No. never.

No.

What we saw on the screen, on the movie screen. That was about all. We were fighting with bows and arrows. Nothing like what war really was or what it meant.

Not really, no. We saw too many.

Oh yes.

Well, I’m sure my father was approached by the postmaster. Would I sit for the

exam? And so we sat for the exam all over Australia for different positions and different things in the Commonwealth Government.

A bit like scholarship. You had to have a cross section of knowledge really. I don't remember a great deal about it other than I knew I had to go well dressed

and have your memory in order and not too tired.

It wasn’t long after I started working my parents were transferred and so I had to learn to live with somebody else’s family.

The Depression was still being felt then because that was 1937. I stayed with our neighbours and their two men in the household they were both on the dole; seven and six a week they got. And so they used to grow cucumbers and lettuce in the back yard.

And I remember eating many cucumber sandwiches and enjoying them.

Yes, I love them. Especially very fresh ones because they were freshly picked. Made a big difference.

Yes I did. Yes. I got the twenty-seven and six a week and I had to pay 21 shillings board. And so with the

other six and sixpence I clothed myself and went to dances and pictures and

Very little. There was the daily Cairns Post that used to come to the Tableland but I don’t recall reading too much other than headlines there. If you went to a newsagent’s (it was) to have a

gossip. These places were meeting places for many. Like today you go to the coffee shop, in those days you went and stood outside the newsagent or the chemist, the hotel lounge, which was under cover and you were away from the weather. Which was another thing, it was always raining. We always wore gumboots to work.

They weren't very pleasant things.

No.

Just normal clothes we made. Our three shilling dresses, our two and nine pence dresses. Our shoes etcetera we used to write to people who sent us catalogues and get our shoes. I think in those days most of it

came from Sydney. We were very simply dressed. Skirts or blouses or just straight through dresses.

What was a radio? There wasn’t.

Just after I started to work the radio station 4CA was in operation and they opened up 4AT Atherton. What I remember of that was it was a big pole in the ground and it was on Mr Beattie’s father’s family’s farm.

That’s how I remember the story of the ‘Beauties at 4AT’. But no one owned a wireless. My parents didn’t own one until they went to Innisfail. We had a gramophone and knew ‘O Solo Mio’ and things like that.

Very formal sort of songs. Not the pop songs of today

No there were none in my class and there were very few in the school. Mainly I think because the Aborigines were taken to Palm Island or elsewhere. They might have gone to Yarrabah Mission. But there were only a few Aborigines left on the Tableland

as I became a teenager.

Oh yes. We all knew each other.

Oh yes. They were just treated like ordinary children. I don't recall any discrimination whatsoever.

Not really because they would have been younger than I.

I think nearly everyone in the class as far as girls went. We were all friendly. The boys we more or less frowned upon.

We might have talked to them but they were a class of their own and just ignored.

Oh,

I think when it came time for dancing really. I don’t recall before that. It was nice to have someone who could dance well.

No very much at all. No.

Not really. You might have looked them over once or twice and said, ‘Oh no’, and I think we were still too young to be worried. We had other things to be interested in.

It was a room about 12 by 12

on the end of the post office. Again no electricity. We had a lamp we could light. There would have been electricity from the batteries to operate the exchange. It was a plug in type that you had to have your wits about you and where you were putting plugs and throwing switches. But that’s all. It wasn’t a very

busy exchange. Rarely were there 2 girls on. It was generally just a one person operation because so few people had phones. I doubt if there were 100 connections in the town even though there were 2 boards. It was a case of disconnections and new connections coming on over

the 100.

Not very often because if you did there were certain noises that you could never block out. There was the Morse code through the door for the postmaster and it chattered away nearly all day. So rarely did you listen to conversations.

Very, very little. Only what we learnt through geography at school. And I liked geography so I learnt quite a bit there, which I promptly forgot later in life. And with television of course the world’s right at our door and it’s interesting to look at all those places.

Very, very little. Just through headlines on the newspaper or gossip. Just discussions.

I doubt if I was thinking about it at all.

No. Never ever expected that to come and not knowing what war meant anyway.

I went to Cairns at the end of 1941 and I left there the end of 1942, back to Innisfail.

Oh yes.

I was in Malanda.

My grandfather hadn't long died and I remember walking home at 10 o'clock at night and saying, ‘Well grandad, I’m pleased that you’re not here to see it’.

I think it would have affected that age group more than it did us as teenagers.

Mainly I guess because you sort of associated them with England even though they had been born in Australia. Their connections were more English than our own.

I’ve often wondered why but just was thankful that he wasn’t here to see it, that was all. And being patriotic, Australia’s ours.

I was on the exchange that night and I heard it possibly from another operator say in Cairns or something like that to say war had

been declared. And I’m not sure if I had to go and tell the postmaster or not, I don’t recall that bit at all.

Well, I wasn’t living at home then so I don't know.

Possibly not because they didn’t have

a telephone either. In those days when you rang it was for 3 minutes. And you spoke 3 minutes and, ‘Are you extending?’ ‘No thank you.’ And hung up. So you said very little in 3 minutes. Today you can talk for 3 hours.

No they were all too young. Far too young.

No. not at all.

Yes. In a way you felt that it wasn’t our war but it was one way of our young fellows seeing the world. And not really realising the

gore of war, it didn’t sink in. It wasn’t until Singapore came along that you really saw the nasty part of it. And the only war we ever actually experienced was the shorts on the cinema news or something on at the pictures before the main item came on.

Well, again I don't think they showed that much. More or less just soldiers in battle from what I remember of it and then they were calling for volunteers to join the air force. I remember they were frantically trying to find people who wanted to learn how to fly. And again that was a big

draw card for young 18 year olds, down to 16 year olds if they could get away with it.

Yes. Oh yes. Knew quite a few of them.

No. I think they were all anxious to say, ‘End of farm work, end of this very drab

existence’. We didn’t think it was a very drab existence but it was all hard work. In those days there were no tractors to plough or anything. Those that were on farms had to just use the horse and hold onto a plough. And I think that must have been a very tiresome job. To even stand upright behind the plough without even holding onto it.

Yes. There were open paddocks but there were many patches of scrub and it wasn’t the dry forest country. It was actually a very wet tropics. And

some of the trees I remember now, there was Cedars, there was Maple, Walnut, Quandong.

As children we did. We loved to

climb our aunt’s fruit trees of course. But when we went to our grandparents at Stannary Hills, well, there were always the gum trees. And they were more isolated than we ever were and food was even scarcer there. They lived on goat meat and things like that. We used to like climbing the gum trees.

And there were plenty of those around. Yes, we liked climbing trees.

We used to have what they call the Millaa Millaa mist and that was like a cloud settling over you. That it was barely raining but you were still always damp. We lived in the raincoats

and the gumboots and we must have had a rain hat of some description. I don’t recall a hat but I guess we used umbrellas as well. We always seemed to be damp. Our houses because they were the wood fires that kept the houses quite dry inside. But today I think, with electricity, those houses would have been quite damp.

It wasn’t over hot on the Tablelands in those days. But when we returned after we were married I found the dry heat I absolutely hated and I was very pleased to say we were moving.

Well the money

was very little at six and sixpence a week. And that had to buy your soap and toothpaste etcetera. And take you to a dance. I think we must have had to pay a shilling for a dance. Our shoes; we had to save up to buy a pair of shoes, things like that. There was not very much money.

You thought twice about even going to buy yourself a lolly.

The dances were always packed. It was the social function of the week.

They were well patronised and it didn’t matter if there was one 10 mile that side of Malanda or 10 mile the other side, there was always some means of getting there. And so we always attended all the dances.

Oh yes. But there were always plenty of boys. There were always plenty

of girls. And there was ample floor space because the room was big enough to hold a ball in and the floors were beautifully finished. I think mainly because the Tableland had such beautiful timbers that they were able to get first class timber to build properly. Then there was the…

because it was volcanic, the soil was very rich. And no matter what you had on it always had red dust. If it was raining and you touched the red soil you always had a red stain and so your skin eventually had that reddish tone to it.

And your clothes. You never got them white. Even with the ‘blue’ in the water. It was a case of in those days there was not bleach either so you just hung them out in the sun or the rain and hoped that eventually that reddish hue used to go off it. But it used to stain quite badly at times. But it also grew beautiful vegetables so it was worth having the red soil.

In those days mainly corn was grown and in Atherton 12 mile away from us they had the silos. And the corn was then sent from there I guess further south to make cornflour or things like that. It wasn’t processed in Atherton. Later they grew peanuts and they have a peanut factory at Tolga and they make their own peanut butter.

Nearly dawn. But mostly then Sunday was an idle day so because I was boarding it didn’t matter. But had I been home, well, it would have been back to milking a cow and doing chores in the house.

Not really. Not for a start anyway because the soldiers had gone overseas we still got food so it was only when Japan had come into the war and our men returned home that all these shortages took place.

And if you were pregnant at that time, well, heaven help the child because there just was not the proper food for the child to be growing on. I remember a few women who were having babies, ex-telephonists and they had a very hard time of finding enough healthy food for a developing baby.

No. that was all ignorance on the parts of our parents I think. I doubt if they were told. I think that’s why there were such big families. And it was only just through talk or reading papers. We used to get an English paper. It was a weekly.

But I can't remember the name of that. And there was a doctor in that who used to write some very good articles. And it was like a Dorothy Dix; if you wrote he'd explain what things were all about. What illnesses were about.

No. Didn’t know what that was about either.

She just said; ‘We’ll use this and put it on like this.’ And that was it in those days. There were no such things as tampons or all the modern things of today.

Well it was like a napkin and then you had to wash it out. And you try and wash it out and it wasn’t the best to

try and wash it out and reuse.

Not really. Not to which year.

Yes. Very annoying. And uncomfortable. Even though we were physically fit it wasn’t the

type of fitness that took away any of the pains of period pain.

Oh, no idea. No idea whatsoever until reading these English journals.

I would have been nearly 18.

Yes. Walking in and being very annoyed with the telephonist that wouldn’t obey what he wanted to do or the line he wanted to use. And we didn’t know enough, well, I didn’t know enough about it in those days

because I hadn't long come from Malanda where a man came to the window and said: ‘Oh, will you connect me to so-and-so, a line.’ And he was only a few feet away from us in another building but not somebody on the phone saying ‘I want a line.’

I think I might have brushed him aside.

At that time.

Well, it might have been a few weeks later. And possibly he was in the room and said, ‘Would you like to go to the movies?’ Because everyone went to the movies in those days and all ended up at cafes to have a drink or an ice cream or something like that before they went home, which was more or less being part of a gang.

That was in Innisfail.

It was good in winter but a very, very hot place to live in summer and it still is. But when I returned to my brother there I just think; oh, how could you live here constantly without air conditioning. And

the amount of washing that has to be done because it’s like when it was hot here a couple of weeks ago and very sultry, you were always wet so a clean shirt to go to this meeting or that meeting. Or I’ll come home for lunch and put on a shirt to go to work. And so not many people worked in air conditioning. I don't think

there was any air conditioning in my youth there.

Just by going to the dances or going to the movies or things like that. When I was transferred to Tully I saw him quite a bit in Tully and from there he occasionally came to the beach where my

parents used to go. We went to the beach quite a bit from Innisfail because it was a lot cooler. And it just developed like that.

Oh yes. As attractive as any of them. I remember many years before,

talking to a girl in Malanda like another school mate and I just said; ‘Well, I’m going to marry someone by the name of Daniels.’ And I did. And just like that. It was just a name that I had heard and I thought, ‘Oh I like the sound of that’.

Yes I didn’t even know of his existence then. We were only say 12 or 13 or 14 years old then.

Not really. But I often thought of it afterwards, in better years, to remind me. ‘You always said you were going to marry a Daniels.’

Oh yes. I have several. And I can not repeat them.

Yes, that was one.

Well, my mother’s name was the same as mine and that’s a no-no for anybody because when someone’s speaking to you, you don’t know whether they’re speaking to your mother or to you. And so I got that and I got ‘Sis'.

I would say it was possibly my father. I don't know. It was just something that evolved. Yes.

No, the whole town did. And I get very annoyed today when somebody still calls me that, that I did not know. I don’t mind people who, say my sisters and brothers

calling me that but I do object to others using that name.

I wouldn’t know.

Yes. Well just because my mother and I got so mixed up

at times. I remember being in Emerald and I was in a chemist shop and I knew there were other Daniels in there but there were 3 Ivy Daniels in the chemist shop at once. And so you didn’t know whom they called and things like that.

Would have been a good 12 months I would say.

No I’m not sure. I don't think so. No. Maybe although there were other Malandarites in Cairns that I could go to the piccies with or things

like that. No, I don't think so.

He used to get upset when his friends went. That they could go and he could not.

And I think I just made him very angry. He didn’t say much but you could see that it did upset him when he wasn’t allowed to go but some of his mates could go. And he wasn’t very happy with essential service in those days.

I was pleased eventually that he didn’t go because seeing what other girls went through in the way of never knowing where their husband or future husband was. Letters were censored, pieces cut out. That they

couldn’t really say where they were or how they felt.

Well it was the modern city. We still had to walk everywhere. There was a train that went to the Tableland or went to Brisbane.

It was just a bustling city and plenty to look at. There was still a little jewellery in the windows; there were a few shoes in one shoe shop I recall. And every so often a new fashion was put in very big windows. But on the whole a lot of the windows were boarded up too

because of wartime and breakages etcetera.

Different in as much as it was an automatic exchange and you only dealt with the trunk line business. It wasn’t as personal as

the plug-in type of phone.

1942, end of ’41. And the Americans had arrived on our doorstep and more or less taken over the whole city.

Just didn’t like them. Full stop. And even today I don't know I really like them. Even though I have some friends that come from America quite often. We had quite a few that used to come through our park when we lived out West. And we got to

know them quite well. On the whole, I just think they were a mob of skites.

Just their attitude to life I think and most of them had come from big cities too. And we were a very small city in comparison I guess. I think that they thought that they

controlled us. And possibly they did.

Yes.

Apart from just being a very dark night and the sirens went off and that was a little bit scary. And they’re such wailing things.

And of course we all ran into the streets and the VDC men were telling us; ‘Get back inside and get into the dugouts.’ Well, even when I left that boarding house I doubt if the dugout was more than 2 feet deep. Even though everyone was supposed to have an air raid shelter it was still in the making. It was something that wasn’t enforced.

And it was good to hear the ‘All Clear’ go and wonder what it was all about. And of course we didn’t know until the next day that the plane had come over Mosman. While in Cairns there was another invasion that very few heard about. And since the war has finished I’ve heard a little more. And that was a

boat-load of Japanese came down the Norman River at Normanton. And they were all captured. They said there were about 80; just hearsay that all was. But since then I’ve heard confirmed that they did arrive and so it showed that they could come onto our land. Today I think they’re infiltrating in a different

way and they’ll run our Parliament and tell us to go hop along.

I don't think it really did enter my head to be worried as such because we just lived day to day existence, knowing that at any time they might land

in force. And up until then we didn’t know that, that was the plan. That Brisbane was going to be the Brisbane Line and anything above Brisbane the Japs could have. We all objected to that at the time of them working that out. That was MacArthur’s idea.

Other than if the Japs landed they could just sail down to Brisbane and say; ‘Well all Queensland belongs to the Japs.’

Oh, hated it. Hated it. But then when you know that our husband etcetera had to kill us; that was even worse I guess. But it

was something we never expected to happen anyway in that respect. But when they talked of the Brisbane Line, north Queensland really objected. And then they had that other line at Ingham where you had to get the permits.

No. Other than he knew he had to shoot 2 babies and me.

And I don't know what he thought about that I never asked him. But it would have been quite scary I would say. And knowing that the gun was there all the time. Today when they confiscated all the guns you think back and say, Well, what would they do if a war came when there’s no guns because they’ve all been destroyed? That’s another

way of looking at it because they still kill with knives and another weapons. And the guns were useful.

I think it was Christmas 1942 when he said, ‘Would we

like to get married?’ Because the Japs then were almost in the Coral Sea. And we may as well make the most of our time together. And so we set a date and that was it for the next Easter.

Not really. No. Still only what we’d learned from this doctor in this English magazine. I don't think Australian magazines ever wrote about it. Although I think the Women’s Weekly was already in operation then. I don't think Woman’s Day but I think Women’s Weekly. And then there was

a pattern, one of the dress pattern people used to put out something like Vogue but it wasn’t Vogue. And they used to have a few things about the human body in it. But we didn’t learn that much from it.

No. I can't say that I did.

About our mothers and aunties and all that, well, you heard them saying, ‘Well you know they had to get married’. But apart from that I don't recall any of my friends ever having to get married.

Yes. You knew that much.

My father he was the oldest of the 12 children. Tall. Very thin. Very athletic. A good singer. Played in the band. A good dancer. A good all-rounder. My

mother was short and rather dumpy and I’m pleased I took after the taller. I have a very tiny sister and she finds it very hard for clothes etcetera.

Yes very outgoing. Yes. He was in all the clubs that were formed in Malanda like rifle clubs,

football clubs. Joined a lodge. Never home for children really when you stop to think about the time he spent socially. And mother being the good cook there was always a cake to be made for some stall. Because when you think Malanda was just a very raw town without any amenities.

They had to have street stalls. Even the churches, there was only the Roman Catholic church there when they moved to Malanda and they had to find money to build other churches.

No, no. I think my father came…they both came from religious families but I think because there were no churches in the

towns they lived in they weren't as religious as my grandparents were.

Not really, no.

Yes. My eldest sister went to America. I was the tallest

of the girls and I only had one brother taller than myself. My sisters are both dark. I’ve got two very fair brothers and one dark.

What else would you like to know?

They’ve all been outgoing, loving people. Always willing to help. Nothing’s ever too much trouble. They were never an argumentative mob whatsoever other than when we were small children and the usual

children's fights. But once we grew up we’ve been very close-knit.

Yes. It’s amazing. The razor strap certainly quietened us all down at times because that was used if we were naughty. And you only had to get hit once and say, ‘Well I don’t want to do

that again.’ If you’re told to be quiet you are quiet. We played a lot outside. And none of us learnt music from our mother who was a good pianist.

I think time again and money. Too busy buying the house we lived in or the car. Buying both at once and having 6 children,

I think we must have gone without a reasonable amount to be able to afford those two items. My brothers now just say how good Dad must have been to foresee buying the house and a car to get us around.

I think

he might have had the business brain behind it. And some of the uncles owned their own businesses and that may have given him incentive to say, ‘Well, you have to buy a house or you pay rent’. And I don't know what the rents were like in Malanda at all because we always had our own house from the time we went there.

I think to my mother although my father was a favourite for all of us. Not because he had time to spend with us but he always thought of the nice things or was taking us somewhere in the car, when we had the car.

And never roused. That was another thing. Didn’t know if he ever roused on any of us. Never heard him raise his voice at all.

I think because I was a childminder. She was the cook and she had to teach me to cook

so that when she was in bed sick or another child was coming. In those days it was 2 or 3 weeks in hospital. Somebody had to look after those that were in the house. And so very early in life I was taught how to cook a proper meal and that. I think because of just the closeness of being together like that.

We generally went to the beaches for Christmas. We went to Trinity Beach. And several families would club together and they’d put up big tarpaulins. I don’t ever recall there being tents. I don't know how we slept even though I was old enough. I just remember the big tarpaulins

stretched from tree to tree and several families enjoying each other’s company. And of course we all went into the sea together and all went fishing together. And that’s how we spent the Christmas.

In those days presents weren't given. I don't remember Christmas presents in our

very early childhood. Possibly it was, ‘We’re taking you to the beach’, and that was it. There was always crackers. Always lollies and things for Christmas. Always a ham. It was more or less a traditional Christmas. And then my father would go back to work and we’d all stay there.

Because there’d always be one man who had that week off or something like that. So there were several families that were more or less one big family in Malanda for that reason. We weren't the only groups that did that. It was a nice way to be away. And very sunburnt of course. The coconut oil used to get used quite a bit.

I think I just had a wonderful life really. From the time I was born. I think at times I was favoured through just small things. And even though we went through lots of hardship and went without a lot,

so did everyone at that time. There was no such thing as carpet on the floor. We had lino. But all the children I think in those days had to wash the floors for their mothers and do those sort of things. I just feel I’ve had a gifted life.

Just in little things that have been done for me.

Very hard to pin-point that. Just attention when I needed it most, possibly. And felt that I was favoured.

Yes because that’s when I remember presents started, we had a Christmas tree. I remember as a child

we went to Stannary Hills once and they had a Christmas tree in the main street. And the store-keepers gave all the children a packet of lollies. I don't remember getting any gifts off those trees but possibly there were gifts. But they were as poor there if not poorer than we were. Because we had a regular wage whereas tin miners

didn’t.

We still managed to find something that made Christmas. When we were in Innisfail we used to go out to a beach and rent a house off a friend. Everyone used to just gather there and enjoy the beach.

And whosoever came was made welcome.

Some of them used to. Sometimes we all went to grandma’s. And grandma’s house was a very tiny house with a detached log cabin where all men

slept. Where all her sons slept. And all the girls slept in one room. Even when they were grown up. It was still a happy time to be all together. Grandad used to make hop beer. Or horehound and that was always there for us to enjoy, which we didn’t have at home.

And soft drink wasn’t known really. Even though a great uncle did own a soft drink factory it wasn’t available in shops like it is today. If you wanted a soft drink you went to the café and asked for a lemonade or a raspberry something or other. I can remember that bit. That was a very special treat to have one of those.

I didn’t ever spend Christmas day itself in Cairns because I always made sure I was the one not working that day and went home. Just to be all together. And possibly there was a special Christmas dinner. I know we used to have this bacon if we didn’t have ham. And that was still available in

most of the shops. It was very similar to what ham is.

Not really no. It was just a case of wishing you a Merry Christmas and that was it. I remember working in Innisfail one Christmas day or afternoon but I did try to get it off

as much as possible.

Well, that’s more than I could tell you. We were busy at that time, yes. But then again so few houses, private homes, had a telephone. Not like today.

My husband came from Emerald and we went back there as part of our honeymoon and to meet his parents. Then each holiday we had, we used to take it about every two years, so that we had an extended holiday. And one year the Burdekin was in flood so we had to go

from Ingham, we got off the train in Ingham. This was still wartime. We went to Laleham [?] I think was the name of the place where the train went through the west. We went out through Hughenden and down to Winton and Longreach out to Emerald that way.

Which was a big eye-opener because it was a long, long journey and a slow, slow train. And everyone was herded into this cattle truck and stood up from the time we left Ingham until the time we got to Laleham. And when we came back the Burdekin had gone down under the bridge and so we came back the normal way. But all a great experience to see the West.

After that we travelled quite extensively by car through the west. We used to take a different trip every time we went back to Emerald to see as many towns as possible.

I don't think any of them were ever great achievers in their life time. There was one boy Ron Monsal. He became a Member of Parliament. We used to always vie for whoever was going to be top in the grade. Three or four of us used to say, ‘It’s not a boy’s place to be there.’ So we used to fight him for

that. I don't think any of the girls went on to be anyone famous or to do anything marvellous.

Yes, yes. The first policeman’s

daughter, she lives here in Brisbane and I’ve been in contact with her at Christmas. And very naughty, I haven’t been back to her. I have another friend in Townsville that has had strokes but we still keep in touch. Another girl in

Sydney that we more or less write chain letters. One person writes and the information in that is sent on and every so often we catch up with each other in person.

Again they were all very friendly.

They were more or less more isolated than the country girls because you only knew them and their connections whereas in the country if you mentioned a person, well, everybody knew that person. But they were all

quite nice girls.

Not really. Mainly because when you’re living in a boarding house and they live at a distance, you never took the trouble to go there. I went to a few parties that some of them had, just to say, ‘I’ve been’ but when you went out at night there was

always the difficulty of getting home again. And so unless it was within cooee of the boarding house, I reneged on that. Because there was no one with a car that would say, ‘Well, I can run you home.’ And there were no buses around in those days to my knowledge; anyway around Cairns.

Well they were

more or less just parties where they might have savouries and if anyone wanted a drink they could take their own soft drink. There was very little liquor because it wasn’t available anyway. You could have a cup of tea or milk. And we more or less just talked or sang. Some of then were good singers and

that was just more or less a place to congregate and be friends and get to know each other.

Well, to look at my grand daughter and think, ‘You’re a socialite’. You know they don’t go out until 11pm at night and that’s the time we were thinking of getting home. And,

‘What time did you get home?’ ‘Oh 4 or 5 o'clock in the morning.’ ‘And what did you do?’ ‘Oh we talked and we might have a drink. Might have a bit of a gig.’ I just think it’s all wrong. I think society hasn’t provided for those sort of children for a place to go other than you go to a nightclub or you go to the pub. I think

because we could go to a dance in a hall, we were better off.

Just kept us under the thumb if we didn’t have enough money to spend on doing things we would have liked to do. More or less felt it probably retarded us a bit,

in that respect. I don't know anything else other than communications. Possibly once the war was over there were more people with phones. There was affordability and there was transport. And of course when Holden started building cars, well, everyone wanted a Holden didn’t they?

So there were more cars, for people aimed to get a car rather than get a lounge suite or a home. That I think was a feather in a cap, if you owned a car in those days.

Yes. On and off. We didn’t always own one. When we wanted to put the deposit on a house in Malanda we said, ‘Well, there’s no cars, we’ll have to walk

again’. But it wasn’t that long before we owned some sort of car to get around in.

Not really. I think all that might have been fluke. I think now

if I ever had a second chance I would be interested in becoming a member of a council or government or I would become into the real estate. To know that better because I think they’re the people who make the money. I don't know for how long but the way real estate is I think they’ll be a long, long time.

That you could force views on people. I think some of the people who go to parliament are already well off. They have never lived to experience what people did without.

Yes all the time. All the time. We listened to parliament both my husband and I. His grandfather had been in parliament and it was broadcast and we listened to that when we could buy a radio. But that would be somewhere around 1948.

I didn’t think he was A-one like everyone thought he was. I think again he was more like a dictator in being knowledgeable enough to force his views on other people. And not enough other people with backbone to stand up

against some of the views. I think he looked after the rich. I think if I came back and became a member I would look after the poor, the very poor. When they can say, ‘Oh, we have to have a raise’, you know their raise is a couple of hundred dollars a

week and the poor people get 20 cents to 2 dollars. And they’re all, ‘Well, we gave them a raise’. I think the whole world’s wrong in that respect. But then there are people that are just so clever that they can make money, can't they?

I’m not in favour of that.

I think the more we meddle in other people’s business, we wouldn’t like people to meddle in Australia’s business so I’m a little bit negative in that respect. They might have good reasons that we know not. Like during the war we were told so much propaganda that we found out afterwards was all wrong.

I feel that’s what’s happening now. That it’s propaganda and I really feel that they’re trying to get rid of a certain amount of people so that the world isn’t over-populated as well. I just feel sorry for the mums and dads that lose people overseas today.

Not really. We just listened to all politics and appreciated listening to the parliament then. It wasn’t the mud slinging. They talked of doing things I think. It made it much more interesting.

Well, we heard a lot about him and his rights and wrongs but again I considered that was propaganda. But we didn’t know him really. Or MacArthur.

I’d say he was trying to do well against a lot of odds. The same with

MacArthur. But they had a big job on their hands to get the Japs back into Japan.

I daren’t say it on camera. I’m afraid I’m still anti in my approach to them.

Yes, yes. That’s right and for people to be so cruel. When I meet the Japanese women they seem to be lovely. I’ve had them stay in my house and that when they’ve been on exchange. This is teachers I’m talking about, not children.

And I found that the Japanese who lived on that side of town and that side of town they still use dictionaries in my house to communicate. And I just feel they’re not a combined race like Australians. Again patriotism.

Yes. I would say so.

Yes, yes. And to see those teachers, one would be about 50 and I suppose the other about 40. And I joined them in a few of the things they attended here in Queensland. And when someone clapped their hands they ran. And I’d say, ‘Leave your bags with me.’ And they’d say,

‘Oh no’; they weren't trustworthy. They didn’t trust us whatsoever. And one of them said afterwards they were told not to trust us. But I said, ‘You know, you’re staying in my house and you carry that heavy bag and you run because somebody clapped their hands’. ‘Oh, we’ve got to.’ That attitude.

No, no. But it’s just some anti feeling that I think we can do without.

No, no. Which I should do to but I think Germany was too far away and we didn’t hear the cruel side of that. Whereas the Japs

were definitely cruel to their people or to their…

Well, just those that were prisoners of war and what they did without and how they were treated and that. We wouldn’t treat our puppy dogs like that. And I just felt they were treated very unjustly.

Not knowing their cultures, they still seem… ‘barbaric’ might be the best way to describe it.

Avoid them because I don’t want to waste time. Time is now precious to me and I just think; why would I waste

time? They mean nothing to me. I have friends whose children have married Japanese and they’ve gone there to live and that and they talk about it and I think, ‘I don’t think I’d have taken it the way they’ve taken it’. They just accept it but I just can't.

Oh, I don't think that I ever would. I think it’s just there as a reminder and the older you get the more you reflect on some of these doings too. So I don’t watch any war movies, any of the documentaries on war, no that’s a no-no. Because I think why should I relive

something that we don’t want to remember.

Oh yes, definitely yes. Yes. I think the older you get the more intolerable you get. I was quite a patient person; now I’m getting very impatient over many things.

Yes I’d say we did get more news. Again through that cinema

tography segment. Possibly the papers did print but I didn’t read the papers much in those days.

Yes. Well the battles fought, the amount of

people that were killed, who was winning, the amount of money spent. Like the bombings of Darwin, we knew more about that; there were a lot more than they said. I think just through word of mouth, through people who had contact, like with soldiers, and said, ‘Oh that didn’t

happen’. Or, ‘It was a lot worse than they said.’ But I just felt that the whole country was being hoodwinked by our parliamentarians, which again is like today. Like the Tampa thing. I just feel that it’s just a progression of what it was like in the war and so I don’t

believe too much of what we’re told. Unless you really see it.

The state of the country and the amount of money spent. And what the soldiers were going through.

Oh dear.

That’s a big memory. Well, again just the amount of bombings that were taking place and who was actually winning the war. They always had…the English were nearly always on top. Until the Battle of Britain

came into it and of course we had a lot of air force fellows there for the Battle of Britain. And even though all the letters were censored, we still got a certain amount of knowledge back through people on leave and that. That it wasn’t all beer and skittles in England either.

We were hoping but I don't say

we were thinking; just hoping that we were going to win it.

Oh yes, yes. Saw many of them.

Yes. But they were reluctant to talk too. Because they were more interested in what was happening to their

surrounds at home. I think a lot of them didn’t like the women working. And the women really looked like men because you know it was dirty, dusty work that they were doing. And until America came into it and we had American equipment a lot of things were still being done the way the boys did it and it was very hard.

I think we were all grateful that someone was coming to our aid. Mainly I think because munitions etcetera even though we were making our own, we knew they had a bigger supply. And when you know, in the early days of Australia, when they sent over

three balls of ammunition to stop the Russians from entering…was it Sydney Harbour or Brisbane? You may think, ‘Oh what would that have done?’ You know. They must have been pretty good shots if they were only going to use 3 rounds of ammunition. So we knew that we weren't richly endowed with ammunition

here in Australia.

Not really, no. I think we were just happy to live day by day and do what we had to do. And pleased to go to bed at night. I hated daylight saving when it came for the reason that we didn’t get

enough sleep because the hours we should have been asleep was too hot in north Queensland to go to bed. And even Malanda didn’t have electricity so there was no such thing as a fan to keep you cool. Innisfail had electricity but I don't think the fans were in the

shop to buy even.

Well we heard about the nurses coming away; that they were absolutely overrun. And that when they bombed the ships as they were in the harbour

and then they shot at the nurses that were on those ships. And we just felt it was very gruesome really. You didn’t want to hear about it.

I don't think I gave it any thought.

Because we didn’t know enough about Singapore either. We knew it was there and that the British were the lords there but apart from that we didn’t know much about Singapore. Other than there was the Raffles Hotel.

No.

No. No. Because we didn’t know enough about route or things like that.

In what way?

Well, of course, I had to stop work. But we had a happy life. We had this nice home and we decided that we wanted a garden and in those days the grass was cut with a scythe. It wasn’t cut with a lawn mower. So that was another experience. We

seemed to just spend our time with him at work because being on-call all the time. He could get called out and he mightn’t come home for a couple of days. We just lived a very quiet life really.

Oh, three years

after we were married. My daughter was born at the end of 1946.

Oh yes, yes. And we were all anaemic. I lived on raw liver, which was a dreadful thing to have to do but there was just no way to get enough good things to

buy to build yourself up in that short time after the war had finished. And so the doctor just put me on raw liver mixed up in salad and all sorts of things.

Awful. But it certainly picked me up.

Not really. I don't think we discussed it very much. We were more or less waiting for the war to be off our doorstep or on the way to being off our doorstep. I think that was that only reason.

Of just being a good housewife I think. And being happy together. Doing things together, which we always did anyway. And he was very quiet. He wasn’t aggressive in anyway to the children or that. Never raised his voice either. So we just

lived a happy married life.

Oh mother did. Yes. Mainly because he was on call for all the time he was still, another 20 years. No it wasn’t 20 years it was 1953, that’s only 10 years isn’t it? No, no

sorry. He wanted to be when he was 53 and that was 1970, sorry. But he was on-call all those years. And so we just lived day by day and built homes and renovated homes and did that sort of thing.

We just felt that it wasn’t very nice. And I think we didn’t come into contact that much with the Italian women in Innisfail itself. I had a couple of Italian girlfriends that were very nice. One worked on the exchange. But for the older people that found it very hard to accept

that they were in another country and they didn’t speak much English, I think at times I felt sorry for them. But I didn’t have that much contact with those sort of people. I saw them in the street but that was about all. And knew who they were because Innisfail, even though it was a much bigger town, you still knew nearly everyone by sight.

Yes. And they led very lonely lives. And they must have been very frightened at times but they were all very, very hard working Italian women. There at Japoon anyway. But they carried on the farm and were able to do what a man could do. But I think they were brought up that way too. I think they were,

you wouldn’t say they were peasants but they were like peasants in their own structure of a nation. The women were more or less ‘you do as the man tells you’ and they did work hard.

We were but I don't know, I wasn’t

aggressive to them or to the Germans even though we were at war with the Germans. I think it was more we were aggressive to Hitler not to the German people. But you know it was all Hitler. Hitler did this and Hitler did that and Mussolini did this and that. But then he was soon deposed and so it was still back to just

what Herr Hitler did.

I think so, yes. I think we made the most of what we could, knowing that tomorrow we mightn’t be here. And when the atomic bomb came along, well of course that was a big shock to everyone I think. They could obliterate a whole city like that.

Very frightening actually. To think that there was enough force in the world to do such a dreadful thing. And yet I guess it won us the war, eventually.

Not the people that got hit. No.

Even I’d say it was the hierarchy that ruled Japan were the ones that should have been hit, not the poor old commoner in the city.

Again very little. We knew that the post office had been wiped out.

We knew one of the men who worked there. He had been in Innisfail. And evacuations of course. And those people were put here, there and everywhere around the country. I suppose if truth be known they went back to mothers or relatives that they knew. I don't think we were ever told

other than they were evacuated out of Darwin. Darwin then became the war city. They didn’t tell us anything about Broome being bombed at that time.

We were very upset when our friend was

killed, because both my husband and I knew him. And I guess we were just upset for the people. To think that it could have been Innisfail post office or Cairns post office that was blown up like that.

He was in the post office itself. He was at work. And see none of those people got out. They were well and truly bombed.

I think mainly radio and through people with connections to him that lived in Innisfail. But he was just one that was at work. But he didn’t have a family; he was still a single fellow then. And you just

think; a dreadful waste of life.

It was an eye-opener to people who had lived a very secluded life. When you consider that we lived in towns where we had very little connection with the outside world other than within

say, a hundred mile radius of the town we lived in. I think it broadened our sense of Australia’s a big country and the world’s much, much bigger and there’s a lot more people. We just more or less lived day by day to the people in our vicinity. And when you look today and go to those places and you

think, ‘Oh, they don’t hurry do they? Everything’s just so slow’. And they say; ‘Oh Brisbane’s a slow town’. I think, ‘No it’s not in comparison to what north Queensland’s like’. Everything ‘s just so much slower. How, I don't know, but when I was up there last year I was just, ‘Oh come on, hurry up’, you know? But

there was no need to.

I don't think so. I was very upset when we had the…it was an experimental station and it was called…

they experimented with diseases and were wiping out people there. It was on the outskirts of Innisfail about I suppose, 5 or 10 mile out of town. And from what we gather, that’s where dengue fever and all that

was bred ready to spread if other nations came on our soil. We weren't told a great deal about it but we knew it was there. Infectious Diseases? Infectious Diseases Control or something like that it was called. And it was still there until just recently. No doubt it was still used as an experimental

area. But we all got dengue fever and that wasn’t very pleasant. And we’ve had several times since as well. Because as soon as you get bitten by that kind of mosquito, you get it again.

You’re just ill. Ill. You don’t like the shade of green and all the cane fields

used to just make you feel worse. Always bilious and feverish and not very well at all.

It would have been about 1945/46. We just felt that we were the guinea pigs. You wouldn’t know if they’d released some of the bugs

or not.

No we did not. We did not.

Oh yes, because the doctors didn’t know what it was either. The doctors probably did know but they didn’t have the cures for it

in those days. Tropical Medicines Something. I just forget the exact name but it was there for all and sundry to see and know it was there.

It was just a case of going to

clinic every month once you knew you were going to have a baby. And the doctor trying to explain what was going to happen or you were checked. The actually birth was very quick but staying in hospital 2 weeks afterwards was a nightmare. Because in those days matrons and nurses and that had their caps.

Everything had to be starched and we were under those heavy Marcella quilts. And when Matron came around every day for inspection, we were well and truly tucked in like little dolls. Never allowed to get out of bed for the first week. Today it’s just a process of ‘Oh, okay. I’m going off to have my baby, bye to you’.

Oh yes, well and truly. Yes. Mainly because we’d been undernourished for all the war years.

I was seven stone, six pounds when my daughter was born. And today I’m ten stone plus.

Oh well and truly. Yes. I had to be treated for anaemia afterwards. But we picked up. The money wasn’t there to buy the food anyhow because we two were buying a house or building a house and so every spare moment was spent on either our house or buying a car.

Yes. Which they said was very good. I don't know if it was or not. They seemed to develop all right.

Well I don't think we ever expected it to finish as quickly as it did. In comparison to the long, drawn out years behind us. Which weren't many when you say it but at the time it seemed to be a long, drawn out affair. I think we were just all elated

that at long last something has been done to stop this absolute madness of killing young people that Australia really needed.

Well, knowing how many were in our own district would have given us an

idea of the overall of the country losing such valuable citizens. Possibly we were given numbers but numbers in those days mightn’t have meant much either.

No, I don't recall any particular place.

No, no I don't recall any.

I just remember once we saw a little boy who’d drowned in the Johnson River. That was very upsetting. But nothing to do with the actual war. We know that several of our friends got hurt in truck accidents and that, but that was understandable, the amount of

trucks that were on the road. And very big trucks to what the drivers were used to driving too. The big trucks were like milk trucks or cane trucks but not those big, military trucks. So the drivers I’d say were at times very inexperienced with a lot of people on board.

Oh yes quite a few of those. Yes. And very sad for their parents and sad for most of us because we were all at school together. And whether you were in grade 5 or grade 7, there was always that close contact in a small town.

And so you knew the parents, the brothers and sisters that would no more be connected.

Well, they did but it just seemed one way of, ‘Oh, I’m going to see the country’. Or. ‘I’m going to get out of this monotonous day by day living’,

which we didn’t consider monotonous at the time. But it just seemed as if, ‘Oh I can fly away’. Not realising what they were going to. They must have put up with a lot of hardship and a lot of dreadful cooking too. When you consider canteens and that.

Bully Beef.

That was quite an exciting day. The whole town just erupted and went into the actual town area. Where they got everything from to make noises. I

don't know but there was a lot of noise. There was flag flying and yelling and squealing and singing and actually joy all around.

I just went and joined them.

He was at work. Those that could get away from work, they just closed the doors on the shops and said that they were going to celebrate in the park.

And everyone could go home and get their lunches and meet there and so there was just speeches and more band playing and flag flying etcetera.

Oh, thank goodness it’s all over. You know my child is going to be born into a reasonable, satisfactory

era even though I wasn’t pregnant with Gillian at the time. But I was not long after. And it was a very nice feeling then. Happy feeling.

We had nothing to celebrate with. Other than just join the crowds because

the hotels still had no liquor or all that. And we didn’t drink any way. Couldn’t buy soft drink. There was no such thing in the shops to buy. You could buy cordial and make your own. But I think we were just happy. Everyone just seemed to be happy. A different atmosphere.

The number of people that really came to fit in the town area, that was just amazing to see them all.

Most of them had a home welcome. The dances were held and speeches made of course. And they were all just welcomed back in that way.

And I don't think it was very long and they were back into harness of ‘It’s your turn to milk the cows’.

We became very social people. We

joined everything there was to join in the towns we lived in. Tried to make the world a better place in that respect. Did our part for the progress of the town we lived in.

My husband was in Rotary. He formed the Australia Society or helped another man in Beaudesert do that.

A lot of work to get things off the ground. We were in sporting clubs, swimming clubs, church groups. We were, you wouldn’t say religious, but we attended church and did our best to live by what we were

taught at church. And so joined in nearly everything that went on in the town. Did our bit for the Agricultural Shows, things like that.

Oh yes, by far. Yes. Number one there was furniture to buy eventually. After making most of our own.

And we only made what was absolutely necessary like table and chairs and cupboards. A bed. But because of doing those sort of handy crafts, we then were able to all the interior of our house when we were in Beaudesert. When we went out west

we were the builders because there was no one else to do it. We just bought prefabs and built those. No, just in general we worked very hard.

No not really. I don't think we were really interested either at that time. We finished

listening to all the parliamentary speeches because by then you’d realised that they were all mud slinging and they weren't there for the good of the people like they used to be when they had proper debates. We used to like debating. But as for the Korean War, no.

And that was a different era again and my brothers didn’t go to that either. Seeing as it was a voluntary one. They did get called up on their age group ones and did their 12 months in the army. And they were prepared if it ever came again. And let’s

hope it never does because I think it would be more atom bombs or worse.

I don't think so, no. I really think we felt the fall out from Maralinga because I was very susceptible to sun spots.

And I spent many a year visiting the radium clinics. But I seem to have got away with that.

We knew that the English were there to let off an atom bomb on our own soil; which we objected to. But there wasn’t much we could do.

We used to think, ‘Well we’re the ants in this world and there’s a lot bigger people than we ants. We do as we’re told, don’t we?’ And we still do.

I first decided that I was going back to work because we lived opposite the hospital. And I knew the sound of the ambulance and the doctor and became a nervous wreck. And they were calling for positions when a TAB opened. So I applied and

I was made manageress. And loved it because it was all figures. But the strain on the children because you’re away all holidays and Saturdays. And that was when they were home and at the age of needing guidance. So I decided I’ve had enough of the TAB and so I went to a newspaper office.

Worked in the office there for a while. And then decided that wasn’t quite what I wanted to do. And I was offered a job in a drapery or it was a big emporium really. But in the drapery section as the senior on the materials. And from there I became the buyer for the materials and the manchester. And

loved it. I was in my element when my husband said: ‘I’m going on for 53 and it’s time. I’m going to retire. And I’m going out west to live.’ Well, he always said and I agreed with him. And so that job finished as well.

It was in a way because we had our home and

it never sank in that I was leaving my home and we were taking some of the furniture with us and we were going to rent the house. And didn’t realise it was the break up of the family roots then. We kept the house for a few years and then decided to sell. But moving out west to something absolutely unknown.

We had visited many of the opal mines around Queensland and New South Wales and decided that, that was where we intended to go and just retire. Little knowing that in a couple of years, inflation would take over and we’d have no money. So we opened a tourist centre out there. And then from there we opened a

caravan park. And then life was so hectic. That just wore us down to the bone. And had to get out. I just could not walk. Little did I know it was my hips at the time. And so we just stayed in retirement there then.

My daughter was the air hostess and my son

he had been to uni and wanted to be a solicitor or lawyer and then found out it was so dry. Didn’t know, ‘Well, I’ll do a year of commerce or science’ and did that. Still don’t know. And he took us out there and saw us settled. Then decided that ‘I’m going back to work but I don’t know what I’m going to

do.’ And he said, ‘Inspiration just came. I’m going to study architecture.’ Which he did in double quick time and made his mark on Brisbane. And built a lot of the likes of Westfield, big commercial buildings, all over Queensland, New South Wales and South Australia. And we

stayed out there more or less in retirement once we left the shop and the caravan park. And after we left that they decided, well, electricity’s coming. They gave us word to say it was coming the week my husband died. So I still couldn’t stay there because it was only coming. So I moved back to Brisbane then and here I am.

Yes. She’s a much smaller person that I am. Oh very, very patient person. Very knowledgeable in geology and really enjoys what she’s doing. And quite happy to live in isolation

and do without power. They have solar power but that doesn’t really give as much power as being connected to the grid. But they do have some power. They have television. And she’s quite content to stay there. When she comes to Brisbane she thinks it’s a mad house. Has to spend all

her time visiting schools, doctors or dentists. A lot of running around.

In a way yes. It was, yes. But knowing that I couldn’t do anything about it and I was going to be near my son and the grand children whom I didn’t know, even though we spent Christmases

here, we didn’t know them more or less personally. Whereas they used to come for dinner every Sunday night, so got to know them quite well then. Now they’re too busy to come to dinner and they live at Chapel Hill so it’s a bit of a drag to come over here every Sunday. But I do see them at times, just for meals.

And I go over there.

Well he got Legionnaire’s during Expo and he just lingered on. Once he came out of hospital he just was not capable of doing what he used to do.

So you knew that sometime, it wouldn’t be a great length of time, his body would just wear out. And we were lucky to just have him for that extra time as well.

Oh yeah. Yes definitely, yeah. The bottom fell out of the world and I wasn’t quite sure where I was for a long time. Was incapable of driving a car

because I was too upset. Then there were too many cars in Brisbane; I decided I didn’t want to bring my car in anyway. I was on a bus route over in St Lucia and it was lovely to just say, ‘Well I’m in paradise, I can go wherever I like.’ And made a lot of friends there. And was quite content to

stay in Brisbane until my son died. And now…

Well, just the whole upset of two children’s lives that were both due more or less to be starting university and not quite knowing which way they were going to go.

I think lack of parental guidance in the education. Even though my daughter-in-law is very good, I think they just miss…well, Dad’s not there to ask questions. But they seem to be getting on with their lives and I do see them occasionally.

Many, many things. We were very happy out west. And we made many friends through owning the caravan park. And it was surprising how many of those friends once we left the park still kept in touch with us.

We enjoyed our lives in Beaudesert. I think all around we were still quite a happy couple.

Oh definitely. Yes. Yes. I think that many marriages are only made for what they are going to get out of it

Oh well, not in love. It’s the case of ‘You provide me with everything and when I’m not happy I’ll just divorce you’. And I feel sorry for both sides then. More so for the children. But it seems to have lost its status of what marriage is all about.

Well, I just thought that you were together

to be a comfort to each other and enjoy days together. Working together and rearing your children to the best of your ability and seeing them happy.

Yes I do. Yes. I think it’s changed to the

fact that time’s not endless. That you make the most of what you’ve got and as quick as you can, yes.

Yes. I think so, yes. You feel sorry for the widows and the children because I think a man does have a part to

play in a child’s life and it’s no good saying, ‘Well, I see you for one day a week.’ Or one week alternately because that gives the children a very great sense of instability I think. That’s the way I have seen my friends anyway. That the children are the ones worse off.

My advice is, ‘If you’re going to get married, do it for good’.

No. no. Personally I don't think they would have been interested in it anyway. They’re too busy with what they’re doing themselves.

The lack of big families. You’re not a big happy group any more. You lack that companionship of always having some shoulder to cry on if you need it. And most of my relatives were comfortable but not well off so it wasn’t

that you were friendly with them because you might get money or they might be able to help you with money. The human relationship; it was very close with most of my relatives.

The lack of respectability of

children to their parents and to other people. You see it every day if you’re standing at a bus stop. Manners, not sure where they’ve gone but there’s very little shown in public. Maybe at home but not in public.

I’ve seen a big shift in from walking to modern planes and cars and the fastness of the cars or not actually the fastness but the comfortableness of a car makes a big difference to travelling. We used to take all day to get somewhere in an open car and be exhausted

when we got there, now you’re there in a quarter of the time and well and truly in comfort in air conditioning. And smoothness of riding and better roads.

Lack of meeting places for children other than nightclubs and hotels. I’d like to see

more like clubs like the police used to have. They used to have WL Clubs that children could go if they were lonely. Especially if they were one or two children. Because there were six of us we were never lonely and never had to go and find other companionship. Although we all had our mates and

those mates stayed with us for all our lives until one of us has gone.

No. I can not stand the smell of popcorn in a closed-in building. I think people go there to munch instead of to go there to enjoy the movie. We used to go in at 8 o'clock

and out at 11. Now you go to a movie at a quarter past eight and go home by half past nine. And I just think, ‘Oh, it’s all gone’. Why would I have bothered when television can show you the movie in the comfort of your own home, if you want to see it?

Oh yes.

Definitely. It’s amazing the ease. I think that’s why people died young because the life expectancy wasn’t much over 60. And here I am 80 odd and feel, I’d still feel 60 if I had a good pair of legs. But time might change there too.

I’m hopeful. The wonders of science and operations and hospitals. To go and have a baby and be home. To go in and have your appendix out; that was a 3 week stint in hospital. Now they’re out next day. And the wonders of medicine really. I think

doctors are just so clever today. Especially surgeons. When you see these fingers and hands being sewn on again and how good that is to people. Much better health because we’re taught how to understand food. Even though we were taught

it wasn’t as defined as it is today. And you say, ‘Well I don’t eat that because…’ and you have more control over what you eat. Although a lot of food I feel is what they call today ‘junk’ and not really good for us. But it smells good

in the shops and people go to shops when they’re hungry. And I think that’s a bad thing to go shopping if you’re hungry because, ‘Oh wouldn’t that be nice’. And then you find out, ‘Oh why did I eat it?’ Refrigeration is another thing that’s a marvel. To think that we had to go to a butcher every day and here they are; you can store meat for a year and it still be

edible. And it’s on tap. There’s no having to go and find it. Cooking with gas or electricity against a dirty wood stove that you had to empty the ash-pans. Not that the ashes weren't good for your garden. It’s another chore that had to be done. And then you had to put the Black-It on the stove to make it look nice once a week

or month or whatever. Then such things as burnt out stoves and the chimney smoked and things like that. All that’s gone. But life is a breeze in comparison.

No I think there was more stress with war. More disappointments whereas when you were working for something you had the anticipation that all will be well in the end result. Whereas in war you didn’t know. And all you saw was the

cruelty and bloodshed that wasn’t necessary really. Because we were all human when it’s all said and done. Terrible to see the likes of what is going on in Iran and Iraq today. For people to be human bombs. I think they must be absolutely mesmerised and nobody tells them

that their life’s going to end. They’re doing something for who? Tom, Dick and Charlie that’s who… and you hear of young people who are dedicated to being this bomb.

I think it’s getting nastier as time goes on.

I can't see how one human can stand up and say, ‘I’ll shoot you because my boss doesn’t like your boss’. Because I just think they’re doing what they’re told, aren’t they? Mesmerised or something into saying, ‘Well, it’s for our own good’. When you know it’s not. It’s one way of getting rid the younger population in an

overpopulated world as well. I’ve thought that for a while, that ‘Oh well, we’ll get rid of a few thousand of them by dropping a bomb or two’. Which is cruelty really, isn’t it?

There was a sign. We weren't allowed to go near it. It was well and truly fenced off. And I wish I could remember the name of it.

It’s all out of sight. All you know is there is a building in there somewhere that’s fenced off and

it was something to do with germ warfare. And I was talking to my sister-in-law in Innisfail just recently about it and I knew the name of, you know I said, ‘What’s happening up the road?’ at this place. I think it’s a paint factory, a paint oh,

experimental place today. But in the war it was there as a germ, germ something…

Or something like that, yes.

Well none of us liked it there but we couldn’t do anything about it because some government had decided that

because we had mosquitoes in Innisfail and that sort of thing, it was the right place to put it. You couldn’t put it in Cairns or Townsville because they were cities, weren't they? They had to put it in some little place and so they put it off the highway there.

Well, they never told us. But we all knew we got dengue.

And I don't think Ross River came from that experimental station but they were experimenting with malaria. Our fellows used to take that Atabrin tablets and they were all yellow. And some people who worked in those sorts of areas, even in Australia, had to take the Atabrin.

It was to be germ warfare if troops landed. That they could release the mosquitoes or whatever that carried it and wipe out an army through germ warfare.

Oh yes, it did at the time, you know. Everyone threw up their arms

but we were just the people who lived there. Who cared?

Well more or less just being irritable about it and cranky that it was there. I think had we sort of had demonstrations like we do today, they’d have found some way of saying, ‘You just quieten down or you won’t be here’. That I don't know, but

you had that feeling that we just did as we were told. Again mesmerised.

No. No. Well, I don't know if anyone did know anyone that worked there. I think that might have all been secretive too. I don't know. But because you didn’t have a car in those days and it was out of the town

but if you went up the highway you did see the sign and ‘No entry’ etcetera.

Well nobody can win can they? Because who ever wins can only be on top for so long and

then somebody comes up behind them and has a disagreement again. I think we’re all very intolerant today about many things. But there’s nothing we can do about it unless we have a very good government.

No. Well I just think I’m so thankful

that I lived from the day when we walked or went in by horse to the modern today. To the cars and fast trains and the aeroplanes and those huge boats. I don't know how long they’ll last. One bomb under those would make an awful mess wouldn’t it?

I think we lived through a huge generational change; mechanically and scientifically. Hospitals; when the diphtheria was around we all had our throats painted with like an iodine paint and it wasn’t a very pleasant

experience. But they did not know how they were going to get rid of diphtheria so all school children had this, I think they used to call it swabbing with this iodine type syrup. Today where injections do the same thing. I think we’ve raised some very clever

scientists in Australia and continue to do so. I think that’s about all I can think of in that respect. And lived through the time when the first aeroplane was flown to Atherton and that was by Kingsford Smith.

Everybody turned out to see this wonderful thing that came through the air. And those that were rich enough could have a flight. I think it cost a guinea to have a flight with him. To see those beautiful big planes today you wonder how they lift themselves off the ground. Just such a wonderful thing to happen. And what’s going to happen?

Do we fly next? Are we taught or given some machinery to say, ‘You follow a magnetic path through the sky?’ But I feel that day will come when we won’t rely on those big machines, which of course they say are destroying the ozone layer and they have to burn up an awful lot of gas to get up that high.

I think that’s about it.