Below is the text of a media release I put out on Friday 20
March on behalf of the Campaign for for an Iraw War Inquiry/Australians for War
Powers Reform following the news of the death of former Prime Minister Malcolm
Fraser.
Death of Rt. Hon. Malcolm
Fraser AC CH
On this 12th
anniversary of the invasion of Iraq, Campaign for an Iraq War
Inquiry/Australians for War Powers Reform expresses its deep sorrow at the news
of the passing of Australia’s 22nd Prime Minister, Rt. Hon. Malcolm
Fraser AC CH.
Mr Fraser was a
foundation member of our movement, having attended in early 2012 a meeting in
Melbourne which convened to consider how we might best campaign for the
establishment of an independent inquiry into the decision-making process that
led to Australia’s participation in the 2003 invasion of Iraq, and the
relocation of the so-called “war powers” from the Executive to the Parliament.
From that time
forward he was effectively the movement’s Patron. Later in 2012, in Parliament
House, Canberra, he launched our publication “Why Did We Go To War In Iraq?: A call for an Australian Inquiry”.
He was a strong supporter of our movement and a ready source of guidance and
wise counsel.
“His support for
this cause was of a piece with his staunch opposition to apartheid as Prime
Minister, his humane approach to Indo-Chinese asylum seekers during his time in
office, his calls for a more humane approach to asylum seekers in the
contemporary era and his respect for international institutions and
international law”, said Paul Barratt, President of CIWI/AWPR.
At this time of
faltering foreign policy and a too-ready willingness to commit the Australian
Defence Force to overseas conflicts his wisdom and ideas will be missed more
than ever. His stature will undoubtedly grow in coming decades.
Many of our members
and longstanding supporters have known Mr Fraser both professionally and
personally over a long period of time. We shall miss him both as a friend and
as a colleague, and extend our condolences to Mrs Fraser and the family.
I was very sorry to learn of the death overnight of one of my
predecessors, W.D. (Bill) Pritchett, who was Secretary to the Department of
Defence from August 1979 until his retirement in February 1984.
I barely knew him at the time he was Secretary as I was
working in the Department of Trade and Resources/Trade during those years but I
suspect I met him a couple of times in the early 1970s when he would have been
a Deputy Secretary and I was working in the National Assessments Staff
(forerunner of the Office of National Assessments) under Garry Woodard.
After I left the public service, however, Garry arranged for
us to meet. I enjoyed a couple of very pleasant and interesting lunches with
him during some of my visits to Canberra, and we corresponded from time to
time.
He also had a special place in my heart as a direct link
with my mother, who died in 1973, a few weeks before her 51stbirthday.
As Bill and I were getting to know one another on the first occasion, it emerged
that he had done an Arts Degree at Sydney University just before the war, and I
commented that my mother had done the same. On ascertaining who she was, he
exclaimed, “I remember Shirley Egan! I used to sit behind her in Psychology
class!”
Fortunately for posterity Garry Woodard interviewed Bill in
2002 and 2003, for the National Library’s audio archives, an audio file of which
there is a 308 page typescript.
William Pritchett, retired
diplomat & career public servant was born in Sydney, N.S.W. and graduated
from University of Sydney with an Arts Degree specialising in history and
anthropology. After service in WWII he was appointed as a diplomatic cadet in
the then Dept. of External Affairs in 1945. As well as service from time to
time at the Dept.'s head office in Canberra, Pritchett served at posts in
Jakarta, Berlin, Boon, New Delhi, Singapore and London. He joined the Dept. of
Defence, located in Canberra, A.C.T. in March 1973. Pritchett was appointed a
Deputy Secretary in 1978 and in Aug.1979 Head of the Dept. on the retirement of
Sir Arthur Tange. William Pritchett retired from the position in Jan. 1984 at
age 63.
Rest in peace, Bill, it was an honour to have known you.
My lifelong friend Professor Helen Beh, one of my father’s
first PhD students, who went on to become Head of the Department of Psychology
at Sydney University, died on 7 February 2012.
The following obituary was written by her husband, Cyril
Latimer; the Paul Barratt referred to therein is my father.
Professor Helen C. Beh. 1941 –
2012. Obituary
Most scientists would not
expect to publish in the prestigious journal Science at any stage of their careers. In 1965, within two years of the commencement
of her academic career, Helen Beh and her co-author Paul Barratt published
their paper “Discrimination
and Conditioning during Sleep as Indicated by the Electroencephalogram” in Science.
This landmark paper, demonstrating that changes in electroencephalograms
indicate that subjects respond more frequently to significant or meaningful
stimuli during sleep than to non-significant stimuli, and that conditioned
reactions may be induced in sleeping subjects, is still regularly cited today.
Professor Helen Beh went on to become an
internationally recognized expert in sleep research, psychophysiology, human
performance and sports psychology. In a
university career spanning 38 years, she published four books and 73 papers in
peer-reviewed journals. She was regularly invited as a keynote speaker at national
and international conferences, and acted as guest and consulting editor for
journals such as the Psychological
Bulletin and the Journal of
Experimental Psychology. She held
numerous overseas research appointments, including: Birkbeck College, University
of London; McGill University; and the University of California, Berkeley. Besides holding many research grants herself,
she regularly reviewed grant applications for the Australian Research Council
and the Australian National Health and Medical Research Council. Helen Beh
acted as a consultant to many NSW State Government Departments and Australian
Companies. These included the NSW RTA,
QANTAS, NSW Cricket Association, the Australian Football League and the Sydney
Opera House.
Helen Beh was an excellent
teacher, and in 1993 was one of the first academics to receive an Excellence in
Teaching Award at the University of Sydney.
She supervised 83 honours students, 18 masters students and 20 PhD
students, many of whom now hold senior academic, government and business
positions in Australia and overseas. She
recognised very early the potential of computer technology in teaching,
particularly in her courses on psychophysiology and human performance, and this
insight, together with her superb communication skills, ensured that her
lectures and tutorials were regularly crammed with enthusiastic psychology
students. Even today, her students
attest to her presence at the lectern, her critical thinking, her ability to
challenge, inspire and exhort them to “seek ever to stand in the hard Sophoclean
light and take their wounds from it gladly”.
Professor Helen Beh with some of her postgraduate students
Many academics would be satisfied
with excellence in teaching and research, but some would argue that Helen Beh’s
major contributions, particularly to the University of Sydney, were achieved in
her role as a senior administrator. Having
served as Sub Dean, Associate Dean and Pro Dean in the Faculty of Science, and also
Head of the Department of Psychology, she was appointed Acting Dean 1995-1997. This was a very difficult and turbulent time
in Australian universities, a time of fiscal uncertainty and a time when central
resources and power were devolved upon the faculties and thence the individual
departments. It was a time for fortitude,
clear thinking, a thorough understanding of what universities are and should be
about, innovation, sharp negotiating skills and a willingness to compromise –
an environment in which Helen Beh thrived. For various periods during 1996 and 1997, she
was Acting Pro-Vice–Chancellor, Sciences Group, and in 1999 was awarded an
Honorary Professorial Appointment in the Faculty of Science. She was the first woman to hold a Dean’s
appointment in the Faculty of Science at the University of Sydney, and is
remembered for her outstanding negotiating skills, her economic and business
acumen and her ability to inspire confidence and extraordinary loyalty in
colleagues and staff.
Helen relaxing with Faculty colleagues Damon Ridley (left) and Bob
Hewitt (right).
Helen Charmaine Beh was born on
the 31st of July 1941 in Singleton, NSW, daughter of Florence
(Simpson) and Frederick Charles Beh. She
attended Singleton Public and High Schools and was awarded a BA (Hons) at the
University of New England in 1963. In
1969, she was the first woman to be awarded a PhD in Psychology at UNE. In 1973, she became the first woman to be
appointed Senior Lecturer in Psychology at the University of Sydney. For her services to the Faculty of Science,
she was awarded a Master of Science (ad
eundem gradem) by the University of Sydney in 2000.
For someone who never suffered
fools gladly and rarely took prisoners, she could be incredibly generous with
her time, her advice and her finances.
She assisted dozens of students financially, and steered and encouraged
many uncertain young postgraduates into successful careers in universities,
government and business. She always knew
a good set of neurons when she saw one, and very rarely were her charity and
support misplaced. Formidable and
tenacious in argument, when her pistol misfired, she would, like Dr Johnson, simply
reverse the weapon and bludgeon her opponent with the butt end. From personal experience,
when insulted, she had a very fast and very accurate straight right. She was a
mean chess and scrabble player, and gloating opponents would often find the
board and pieces in their laps. Helen
had a devilish sense of humour that was used effectively against those with an
inflated sense of their own importance, and often to restore perspective in
many a committee meeting.
Raised on the land, she was an
excellent horsewoman, a sport to which she returned in later life.
Colleagues often remarked on her
capacity for working long hours and on her ability to achieve goals quickly and
effectively. I recall her sitting down
regularly at her computer in the evenings after cooking the family meal, and
over the period of a few weeks, writing not one, but two textbooks – one on
Human Performance and the other on Psychophysiology. She then formed her own publishing company
and had them printed. They were highly
successful and students bought them by the hundred.
Helen’s fighting spirit was
exemplified when she was diagnosed with breast cancer in 1999. She immediately
enrolled in a part-time Law degree at Macquarie University, collected several
prizes and graduated with first-class honours and the Dean’s Award for topping
the year in 2005.
In August 1999, Helen Beh
resigned from the University of Sydney to become the first CEO of the
Australian Orthopaedic Association (AOA).
Using her sound financial skills, she was involved in increasing
members’ equity by almost $10 million in eight years. This despite membership fees having
effectively decreased by around 30% over the same period. With her enduring interest in training
programmes and continuing education, she ran workshops to train orthopaedic surgeons
who acted as interviewers for the AOA training programme, and oversaw the
development of a national training program and establishment of a national
selection process. She was influential
in bringing about the swift and successful completion of the Memoranda of
Understanding and Service Agreements for the training of surgeons between the Royal
Australasian College of Surgeons and the Specialist Surgical Societies. These formal arrangements were essential to
the College receiving accreditation from the Australian Medical Council, and
everyone involved valued Helen Beh’s leadership, intellectual input and
commitment to the process. Some believe
that her most significant contribution to the AOA was her knowledge and
advocacy of proper corporate governance in the workings of AOA Boards and
associated committees.
In early 2007, Helen was
diagnosed with a malignant and aggressive brain tumour, and without treatment,
given weeks to live. The fighting spirit
resurfaced, and she enrolled in a counselling course! With the help of her excellent medical teams
at the Prince of Wales Hospital, the Sacred Heart Hospice, Darlinghurst, and
Milford House Nursing Home, not to speak of the love and care given by her
family and friends, she defied all the statistics of her disease, surviving
almost six years, and being able to play with her beloved grandchildren Will
and Honor. Helen, being Helen, had no
funeral or memorial service – just a simple cremation and Wake at which many of
her family, friends, colleagues and students remembered and celebrated a life
well lived. Helen’s Memorial is to be a
dedicated Holm oak and bench seat overlooking Randwick Pond in Centennial Park. She is survived by daughter Phillipa, sons
Jason and Steven, husband Cyril and her beloved cats, “Screamer” and “Big Cat”.
I was very sorry to hear recently from one of his relatives
of the death in 2009, at Tugun, of Jock McDiarmid, former School Sergeant at
The Armidale School in northern NSW.
I now have little more information about Jock, and by
courtesy of a relative a photo of his Croix de Guerre citation, so in due course
I will post a roundup of all the information I now have about him.
Later today an Australian Spitfire pilot who fought with the Royal Australian Air Force’s No. 453 Squadron in the Battle of Normandy will be buried at a Commonwealth war graves cemetry in France, with full military honours. The body of Flight Lieutenant Henry ‘Lacy’ Smith, who had been missing presumed dead since his aircraft was shot down on 11 June 1944, just five days after D-Day, was discovered in the wreckage when his plane was discovered last November by a French couple, buried in the mud of the Orne estuary.
No 453 Squadron was in operation over the Normandy battlefield from D-Day on, and very shortly after the invasion it was deployed to airfields in the Normandy beachhead, from which it operated for the next three months. As I have related in the above-referenced article about Russell Leith, this unit under Australian command forms the basis for Australia to be regarded as one of the nations which participated directly in the Battle of Normandy.
Below is the text of a Department of Defence media release about today’s ceremony. Images of the recovery of the aircraft wreckage may be seen here.
WWII Flight LieutenantHenry ‘Lacy’ Smith Laid to Rest in France
Today Australian World War II Flight Lieutenant (FLTLT) Henry ‘Lacy’ Smith will be buried with full military honours in France.
The Minister for Defence Science and Personnel and Minister for Veterans’ Affairs, the Hon Warren Snowdon MP and Chief of Air Force, Air Marshal Mark Binskin AO, will join FLTLT Smith’s surviving niece and nephew and their extended families at the ceremony.
The service will be held at the War Graves Cemetery, at Rue des Airbornes, Ranville in Normandy and include a traditional wreath laying, the Ode, and the Last Post bugle call. This symbolises that his duty is over and he can rest in peace.
Ceremonial elements will be performed by members of No. 453 Squadron from RAAF Base Williamtown, NSW, the unit with which Smith flew, and Australia’s Federation Guard.
FLTLT Smith from Sans Souci, south of Sydney, NSW, was shot down by anti-aircraft fire on 11 June 1944 during World War II and crashed into the River Orne, near Caen, in northern France. The Spitfire aircraft and Smith’s remains were found in November 2010.
“At age 27, FLTLT Smith made the ultimate sacrifice for our country during World War II. He was from No 453 Squadron, the first Australian squadron to go into action on 6 June 1944, where it provided tactical support for the troops landing on the Normandy beachhead,” Mr Snowdon said.
“No 453 Squadron carried out operations that included harassing the retreating enemy, attacking enemy convoys, bombing missions, armed reconnaissance and bomber escort duties.
“I am thankful for the brave contributions of FLTLT Smith. He will now have a marked grave that can be visited so that both Australians and French can remember his sacrifice, and I am pleased he has now been afforded the military burial and honour he deserves.’’
“I hope this reinterment will support a greater understanding of the important contribution FLTLT Smith made during World War II.”
During the ceremony, the Chief of Air Force, Air Marshal Mark Binskin AO, posthumously awarded and presented FLTLT Smith’s service medals: the 1939-45 Star; Air Crew Europe Star with France and Germany Clasp; Defence Medal; War Medal 1939-45; and Australian Service Medal 1939-45.
Mr Snowdon said the Australian Defence Force was in the process of shipping the wreckage of FLTLT Smith’s Spitfire aircraft to Australia to display at the RAAF Museum, Point Cook, Victoria. Plans are for the aircraft to arrive in Australia mid year, where it will undergo conservation work.
Following the death of a distinguished old boy of The Armidale School, Rex Budd DFC, in November last year, I was asked to write a tribute to him for the February edition of the Old Boys’ Magazine.
This is reproduced below. Copyright in the image belongs to the Australian War Memorial.
Rex Robert Budd, DFC (1935-2010)
Flight Lieutenant Rex Robert Budd DFC died on 4 November 2010 after a short battle with cancer.
Rex was born in Murwillumbah on 5 September 1935. He grew up in Murwillumbah, and attended The Armidale School from 1950-52. He participated very actively in the life of the school, being a member of the Dramatic Society for the three years of his attendance, a member of the Swimming Team, the Choir, and the Library Committee, a Sergeant in the Cadet Corps, and a Monitor in his final year. He received a Merit Award, and matriculated with Honours in Maths.
After leaving school he spent time at Nerrigundah station outside Quilpie, roo shooting and filling in time until he was old enough to join the Air Force.
After joining the Queensland University Squadron at Archerfield to undergo his National Service training, he was accepted into RAAF pilot training. He graduated top of his flying course and served in flying roles with two Air Trials Units (Meteor), two Fighter Operational Conversion Units; 3, 76, 79 Fighter Squadrons (Vampire and Sabre); 5 and 9 Squadrons (Iroquois and Bushranger gunships)and in administrative appointments with other units.
He served two operational tours of duty with 9 Squadron between 1968 and 1970 flying Iroquois helicopters during the Vietnam War. He was the first RAAF pilot to log 1000 hours during that campaign and was the third of five gunship flight commanders, all having previously flown fighter aircraft.
He was awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross for his superior leadership, courage and devotion to duty during 625 days service overall in Vietnam. During that service he showed both his daring and his innovation. On one occasion he rescued six SAS soldiers who were under enemy fire, lifting the patrol out of the jungle on 45 metre ropes, needless to say coming under fire himself in the process.
He was the third of the five “Bushranger” gunship flight commanders to serve with 9 Squadron. This gunship variant of the Iroquois helicopter, was a simple yet very effective air weapons system, created through typical Aussie ingenuity. Legend has it that the prototype aircraft was constructed from weaponry and other components bartered from the Americans for slouch hats and Australian beer. The whole Squadron contributed to the development of the project in some way and it was a fine team effort.
After returning home from Vietnam he started his own helicopter mustering business based in Mareeba and became one of the pioneers of helicopter mustering. On so doing he recognised the skills needed from people who had worked in the bush and who understood stock – he felt that it was easier to teach a stockman to fly a helicopter than to teach a helicopter pilot how to be a stockman.
As he worked his way around the various properties Rex kept a weather eye out for good stockmen who were interested in becoming pilots. He was a man of generous spirit. In 1972, in the early days of helicopter mustering, he went to Highbury Station where Kerry Slingsby was head stockman. Kerry Slingsby had started his working life at age 14 as a ringer in outback Queensland and by the time he was 24 he was head stockman at Highbury. Highbury had invested in its own helicopter and pilot, but the pilot had little livestock experience. Rex took suggested that Kerry that he learn to fly the helicopter himself, took him for his first ever helicopter ride, the whole matter was settled over a bottle of rum, and Rex handed Kerry a cheque for $1000 to help pay for him to have the necessary flying training at Long Beach in the US. Rex didn’t leave Kerry to sink or swim. After Kerry had been in the US for a while he received a telegram from Rex saying, “By now you will think a helicopter is totally impossible to fly but stick at it and it will come to you”. When Kerry returned to Australia Rex gave him a mustering endorsement.
Some time later Kerry went to Kununurra in the Kimberley and started his own mustering business, branched out into charter and tourism, and by the time he sold the business two years ago he owned 25 helicopters and 25 fixed wing aircraft. Kerry Slingsby was just one of several people who launched themselves into successful helicopter mustering businesses after coming into contact with Rex.
In his spare time Rex enjoyed motor bikes, cars and gardening, for which he had a particular talent.
He is credited with the importation into Australia of the Hughes/Schweitzer H269 piston engined helicopter and its application to mustering cattle.
The following obituary for Ken Atkinson, an old boy of the Armidale School who was in his final year in my first year there, was published in yesterday’s edition of The Sydney Morning Herald.
Kenneth Hugh Atkinson, 1939-2010.
Ken Atkinson was a gynaecologist and an unpretentious man of achievement. He was a dedicated oncological surgeon and taught many of Sydney's currently practising gynaecologists.
The secret of his success in work, his marriage and friendships was that he possessed a rare quality: he listened. Not just politely but with genuine interest. He was also a great teacher and had an extraordinary ability to convey the practical skills needed for the management of patients.
Kenneth Hugh Atkinson was born on August 1, 1939, in Moss Vale to Athol (Dod) Atkinson and his wife, Ethel Cameron. The Atkinsons moved to Fiji, where Dod managed a cattle ranch but died of typhoid when Ken was 18 months old. Ethel also contracted typhoid but recovered, returned to Australia and moved to Armidale, where Ken grew up. He went to The Armidale School, where he was dux of his final year.
In 1957, he went to the University of Sydney to study medicine. He spent six years at St Paul's College.
His contemporaries remember that he studied little and on one occasion remarked to a fellow student that he ''could not believe how easy the medical course was''. He passed his examinations with ease, getting credits and distinctions each year, and graduated with honours in 1963. In 1964, he married Susan Vail.
He then went to Royal Prince Alfred Hospital and two years later became a registrar at King George V Hospital at RPAH. In his second year at King George, he sat the membership examination for the Royal College of Obstetricians and Gynaecologists and got the top mark in Australia.
In 1968 he was appointed clinical superintendent at King George. He single-handedly altered the whole ethos of the hospital - introducing formal resident training and running regular seminars incorporating interaction with other clinical specialities. In his teaching, when manipulative obstetrics (correcting abnormal presentations by hand) was still practised, he taught the resident staff to practise it as an art form.
Before leaving the clinical superintendent position, Atkinson was awarded the Joseph Foreman Fellowship. This took him to Boston, Massachusetts, where he was surgical resident to Howard Ulfelder, one of the greatest gynaecological surgeons of the time.
In 1971, he returned to Sydney where he progressively took up a series of appointments: as visiting medical officer in obstetrics and gynaecology at RPAH then at Ryde Hospital, Poplars Private Hospital in Epping and Sydney Adventist Hospital in Wahroonga.
He demonstrated an almost superhuman capacity to work. His days started at 4.30am with rounds at the Adventist, then Ryde, Poplars and RPAH. He then began his day in his rooms, seeing 20-30 patients a session and being intermittently interrupted by a delivery at any of these geographically disparate hospitals. He was delivering close to 400 babies a year.
After he gave up obstetrics in the mid-1990s, he concentrated on gynaecological cancer surgery. He handled most of the difficult gynaecological cancer surgery on the upper north shore and, of course, at RPAH, where he was on call for surgical disasters. He never complained about being called in at any time of the day or night; he did it all with good humour but no one equalled him ''when the chips were down''.
In 1974, Atkinson was a member of the NSW committee of the Royal College of Obstetricians and Gynaecologists. In 1984 he served on the executive committee of the Australian Society for Colposcopy and Cervical Pathology and became chairman of the committee in 1994. In the same year he was elected to the council of the NSW Medical Defence Union and in 1995 he served on its executive committee.
In 1996 he became a director of United Medical Protection and later deputy chairman.
He was the spokesman for UMP during the medical insurance crisis that resulted in major reform to tort law and insurance in Australia. This increased his interest in medico legal problems and he took a master's in health law at the University of Sydney.
Ken Atkinson is survived by Susan, children Tracey, Josephine and Bill, son-in-law Adam, daughter-in-law Kim and grandsons Sam and Jack.
In an earlier post I reproduced one of the fine obituaries that my classmate Alex Buzo wrote about former schoolmasters who had helped to shape our lives at The Armidale School (see Alex Buzo on Brian Mattingley).
Here is the other, a fine tribute to a colourful and much-loved Irishman named George Crosslé, which was published in The Australian following George’s death on 12 November 2000, under the headline Swashbuckling blackboard pirate.
Obituary
R.W.L. (George) Crosslé
Teacher. Born Belfast, Northern Ireland, August 6, 1908.
Died Armidale, NSW, November 12, aged 92.
On a grey and flood-soaked day in early February 1956, the class sat waiting for its first history lesson in secondary school. Suddenly the door was flung open and a figure exploded into the room, his academic gown swirling around, knocking rulers off desks and exuding clouds of chalk dust. He had a black eye patch, a swaggering gait and a voice that boomed, “Since 1945 England has had two governments, while France has had 17! Someone is going to learn the lessons of history.” History? Quite clearly this was drama.
Robert Crosslé, known variously as George, Lou, Ra and Ding, has died, but he struck sparks on that wet day and the fire has never gone out.
A long-time teacher at The Armidale School, Crosslé was a genuine eccentric who inspired hundreds of anecdotes and lent dignity to that hackneyed term, legend. Some of the more laconic country boys were awestruck at first by this barking, piratical apparition, but in none of the stories or pranks did he emerge as the villain his appearance suggested.
Paul Barratt, who went on to head the Business Council and the Department of Defence, was there on that day during the floods of 1956, but his jaw was not on the floor like the rest of us; he had already met Crosslé. “He was a friend of my parents, but he never showed any favouritism to me and never took a set against anyone, either. He had tremendous confidence in his religion and values, and never needed to play favourites,” says Barratt.
Those values began at his home in Northern Ireland, where he was the youngest son of an Anglican solicitor. Educated at Dover and Trinity College, Dublin, where he took arts and law degrees, the young Crosslé taught at a prep school in England and acquired many of the characteristics of his later reign at Armidale – the fatherly concern for any troubled child, the giving of presents and rewards, and the sudden outbursts of advice, solace and compassion.
It was at this time that he lost his eye – and nearly his life – in a motorbike accident. After three days in a coma, he woke to find his parents staring down at him. “What the bloody hell are you doing here?” rasped the invalid. They sighed in relief.
Despite his rolling gait, Crosslé was in the army – not the navy – during World War II, working on the decoding of German cables at Bletchley Park. He had married an Australian girl in 1940, so it was inevitable that he would be unleashed on the Antipodes at some point. That came in 1946 and it was not a red-letter day for the forces of apathy.
He was to spend 54 years in Australia, 27 teaching at Armidale and 27 in alleged retirement, during which time he was able to double his output of letters to The Armidale Express on his favourite subjects – politics, history, the Adelaide-Darwin rail link, a new state for New England and amenities around the town where he became just as much a legend.
“Armidale might have thought it was getting a wild Irishman, but he was conservative in politics and a Union Jack Anglophile,” says his daughter-in-law Robyn. He was always fair, though, and this was disconcerting for those who value dull partisanship. “If Labor came up with a good idea, he would praise it,” notes Robyn. “For George, ideas were paramount and he was always happy in a debate.”
As a classroom teacher, Crosslé was never one to make a god of the syllabus, and he could occasionally be sidetracked into anecdotes about Trinity College. A cinema buff, he had the fatal weakness of the breed and left no plot untold, so much so that desperate students would try to get him back to the lesson. His great gifts were for arousing intellectual curiosity, enthusiasm and the desire for expression and achievement.
There were many changes at Armidale during Crosslé’s long tenure. For one thing, the school evolved from its lingering Victorian origins to become a member of the Round Square group, from the philosophy of Thomas Arnold and Rugby to Kurt Hahn and Gordonstoun. George appeared to go on just the same, however, a parade-ground Ulsterman who was a tough negotiator with the 20th century.
“He was a very modern man, actually,” says Jim Graham, who taught at Armidale for 45 years. “He was never afraid to show his feelings, even back when that was frowned upon. He had genuine affection for people and a great memory for their characteristics.”
Barratt cites another modern quality not always associated with private boarding schools. “George was an egalitarian,” he says. “He never abused his powers or used punishment as a weapon.”
Hugh King, a leading Sydney lawyer, recalls a prank: “Two boarders put pebbles in the hubcap of George’s old Anglia during prep and he thought he’d broken an axle; he got out and walked home. The next morning the car was there in the school drive, but no one was punished.”
As Addison de Witt might have said, for most of the School’s boarders, Armidale was a stretch of sidewalk from the Memorial Gates to Nick’s Cafe, surrounded by what looks like a medium-sized country town.
The school was anxious to dispel any idea that it was an elitist enclave and George was its trump card. He became day boy master, taught Sunday school, coached junior rugby and was an active member of everything from the Masonic Lodge to Meals on Wheels. Long Inured to “Crozzle”, he explained to wide-eyed locals that his name was pronounced Crossly and that the accent over the “e” was Irish, not French. Crosslé never sidled into a room, he made an entrance, and he was happy in spotlight jobs, such as compering a dance at the Armidale Tennis Club: “Azzz the gentlemen have been back-ward in coming forward, the next dahnce will be ladiezzzz choice.”
His wife had a business in the main street, Roma Crosslé Frocks, and she made the costumes for the school’s annual Gilbert and Sullivan production, for which Crosslé did everything, including a memorable night on tour in Inverell where he began as a prompter and ended up singing a duet. Does every school have a Crosslé, a teacher whose influence and inspiration extended way beyond classroom progress and occasionally impeded it? If so, then that must be a large part of its soul.
At the funeral, Graham delivered the euology and described Crosslé as a larger than life character. He was also larger than fiction, being much more rambunctious than Mr Chips or The Crock in The Browning Version. Another play with an educational background opened in Sydney a week before Crosslé died. It is about a dedicated history teacher and is called, appropriately, Life After George.
There will, in fact, be life after George Crosslé, as he has endowed the Ulster Bursary, and he leaves Roma, son Rob and daughter Louisa, plus two grandchildren who knew him as Grandpa Patch.
Alex Buzo
Alex Buzo is the author of Big River and Armadillo.
Sad to read of the death of the courageous historian and public intellectual Tony Judt, who died of Lou Gehrig’s disease (amyotrophic lateral sclerosis) aged only 62. Although the disease left him within months paralysed and able to breathe only with mechanical assistance, he continued to lecture and write.
There is a major tribute to him in The New York Times, 7 August 2010. NYT says of him:
Mr. Judt ... who was British by birth and education but who taught at American universities for most of his career, began as a specialist in postwar French intellectual history, and for much of his life he embodied the idea of the French-style engaged intellectual.
An impassioned left-wing Zionist as a teenager, he shed his faith in agrarian socialism and Marxism early on and became, as he put it, a “universalist social democrat” with a deep suspicion of left-wing ideologues, identity politics and the emerging role of the United States as the world’s sole superpower.
His philosophy of history is described thus:
“The historian’s task is not to disrupt for the sake of it, but it is to tell what is almost always an uncomfortable story and explain why the discomfort is part of the truth we need to live well and live properly,” he told Historically Speaking. “A well-organized society is one in which we know the truth about ourselves collectively, not one in which we tell pleasant lies about ourselves.”
In Jock McDiarmid, MM C de G I posted a plea for information or source material that would assist me to write a piece about a former World War II Special Air Service Regiment soldier who was School Sergeant at The Armidale School from 1957-59 and from 1961-April 1962.
There is not much about Jock on the web – his exploits, having taken place before the information age, are largely unrecorded.
My principal source is D.I Harrison’s These Men Are Dangerous: The Special Air Service at War, Cassell and Company, London, 1957, which was awarded to me as a school prize in 1957. The School was proud of Jock. This book mentions Jock’s involvement in the British invasion of Italy across the Strait of Messina, for his part in which he was awarded Military Medal in 1943 (see Jock McDiarmid’s MM commendation), and his involvement in operations behind German lines in France in 1944. There is also a photo of D.I Harrison and Jock in Holland in 1945.
What I did not know was whether, prior to the invasion of Sicily, Jock had a background of operations in North Africa as well. I think the photo at left answers that question. It comes from the Special Forces Roll of Honour website.
Apart from the photo, this page tells us that Jock was in the Special Air Service Regiment from 1941-45, which means that he must have been with SAS from its very early days – the first operation of L Detachment, Special Air Service Brigade (renamed 1st SAS in September 1942) was in November 1941, a parachute drop in support of Operation Crusader, the operation which relieved the siege of Tobruk.
We are told that his parent unit was the Black Watch (Royal Highland Regiment), and he is listed simply as “Commando (Pte)” in 1941. He is listed as a Corporal in L Detachment SAS in 1942, then in A Squadron 1 SAS (1942-43), and 2 Troop Special Raiding Squadron (1943) – with which unit he landed behind German lines at Bagnara and was wounded in action during the invasion across the Strait of Messina – and then a member of C Squadron, 1 SAS, 1944-45.
I am still in the market for information about Jock – please post a comment if you have reliable information or can guide me to useful links.
