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Jazzman Tales - by jazzman

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Jazzman Tales part 2

December 18th 2007 07:54
The Jazzman on Radio


Let's get on with part 2 of this story and I hope that it can bring some memories back to those who were around at the time.
As I finished off the last part we had returned from Vietnam, but this was not as we expected or ever imagined it could be, it was the most shameful and disgusting show of patriotism(?) that one could amagine after this there was no other Service March through any city plus no show of the uniform on or off duty as we were told to wear mufti at all times off base.

So the colours we fought under and were proud of and seen many of our comrades die horribly was left at camp and worse of all no support or recognition from the R.S. L. till recently

As we marched down George Street Sydney, we were spat on, buckets of shit thrown on us, eggs were pelted at us, verbally abused and in all made to look like killers that we were accused of - by our own country who wanted to be called Australians, but nobody thought that we were enlisted soldiers and we went where we were ordered if we did not we were Court Marshalled as deserters and went to jail and still earned the wrath of the multitude then they could call us cowards a catch 22 situation and me an M.P. it would look goo wouldn't it?

No other Australian soldier has had to suffer humiliation like this ever and certain groups of the "rent-a-crowd must have been proud of such an honour to this day they still stink no matter what their feelings were we did not deserve this treatment!


I was on leave for a short while so I re joined the Jazz Band but by this time Square Dancing had gone flat so it was Jazz and a or two of Rock & Roll this was good fun and it relieved the memories, this I feel was the catalyst that stopped me from getting depression etc as many of my companions did, I have never been a big drinker, even to this day I enjoy a good ale or three with one or more of the boys but I know when I must stop or suffer so with this and my wife Dot behind me it made to become a lasting union.

I returned to my unit and was doing my duties and was transferred to a training unit till my time was up for reenlistment but Dot was against this so I had read in some of the papers that was available to us that the Australian Police wanted personal so I applied of the fat into the fire), for all the ballyhoo about adventure it was a humdrum couple of years after 'Nam but it helped me get my head together although as Dot can attest sleep for a full nigh was pipe dreams and I have never taken sleepers buggers it I would sooner walk around all night not game to close my eyes than be like a Zombie all day and this is still with me to this day, not very often but, every now and again it come back to haunt me as it does many others from all services

December 24th 1974 a very memorable and frightening time for both Doth and me we were based in Darwin and we had made such great plans for Christmas but the bloody place blew down on top of us - Cyclone Tracy reaped her vengeance on us boy it was terrifying I had had a lot of frightening occurrences to that time but this was different it was non mad made it was nature at its worse and that unstoppable we spend the worse part of it huddled under four buses in the pits at the bus depot with ten or so other folks, I had a service radio and was in contact whenever it worked with H.Q. and when it subsided a little I was called out to help do what I could, strange that it may be but we found our Land rover unharmed outside the remains of the Post Office and it worked to make matters more unbelievable so we went about doing what we could patching a few people covering the deceased and in all being in a state of confusion but trying to look like we knew what to do as was all rescue personal doing.

It was a great relief when the Navy arrived and brought with it power, food the RAAF and the Herc's and Caraboo's came in with supplies it is amazing the resilience of the people also it did not take long for the crims to work out that this was a time for quick profits so my work with the others moved from rescue to security and prevention by this time I was armed again and the Army was landing in numbers a few found out the error of their ways, I may add the only damage to the Landrover was when a nice fellow we were after turned and shot out the windscreen with a 12 gauge both my partner and I still have the scars from the shards of glass to show for it.

After we finished our work in Darwin I Joined my wife in Adelaide who went there to stay a while with our son and get a house going again also to gather up some of the gear we lost even to this day I have no idea what the whole quota was because we did not have a thing except uniform for me and what I could bludge of the Navy and other services even my handcuffs are still on walkabout lucky my handgun was safe on my belt at the time or I would have been naked.

We all got a spot of leave and counselling and then back to what we call the grind again until in my wisdom I said to Dot let's go for a change as it happened there was vacancies in New York for my section so that is where we headed and our offices was at the World Trade Centre, if I could have seen into the future maybe I would have changed my bloody mind in midstream.

Well let us make this the end of part two and I ask you to keep looking out for part three shortly.


"The Jazzman"









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The Adventures of a Jazzman

December 16th 2007 06:09



Here we go with part one of the saga of "Jazzman John" a person who has had in his opinion a very interesting, adventurous, at times dangerous and lucky to be telling it life.

I was born in a mining town in Australia in the Western part of New South Wales, called Broken Hill, the only son of a Russian Father and a Scottish Mother a lovely mixed bag you say with the temper of a Russian and the stubborn nature of the Scot.

I proved to be an easy mark to knock about in school mainly because in those days I was the only Russian name at the Alma Primary School South Broken Hill, thus it was only fair to assume that I would get picked on by the Anglo Saxons, as they loved to tell us they were and Australia was theirs, (there was a Chinese and a Greek also who suffered that same as I ) we were constantly "ganged" against for the whole year till it was clear we were sick of bleeding noses and torn shirts to go home and suffer more from our parents, so we formed an allegiance "pick on one pick on all" and this stopped much whilst we were together but then we were got at when we had no backing.

By this time I was old enough to feel that I was a whipping post so on the way to school (about 25/30 minutes walk) there was a magnificent pepper-corn tree this must have been 25metres high and covered a vast distance in circumference and it was covered in long, springy. strong, canes so nicking Grandfathers pair of secerteers, I cut and pruned three lovely canes and waited near the cross road where I knew the "gang" had to pass I proceeded to dole out my payback one at a time.
For three days this went on by this time I had almost gone through the pack this, day I arrived home in time to see five of the fathers and mothers of the "gang or bullies" as they are called now.
They said I put welts on their children for no reason, but at the same time the Chinese and the Greek families came over and then the crap hit the fan with all the mob, I thought it was going to be world war 2 in our backyard but, a lot of shouting and words after that the bottles of Coopers Ale came out and it was left up to the "kids", for years after we were left along and I was called "Ivan the Terrible" of "That mad Russian Kid" but we never got picked on again.

When I was old enough to go to upper high school we moved to Sydney because Dad had been involved in a cave-in and suffered with his back for the rest of his life and had to receive treatment in Sydney constantly, this was 1949 and I was around 13 years and I was enrolled at Sydney Boy's High to complete High school and receive my leaving certificate which I done without any further problems but I had joined and advanced in rank within the school Cadets and it resulted in me joining the Army when I turned 18.
But before that being only 16 I got myself a job with the Sydney Morning Herald as a copy-boy and worked in the pictorial department for two years and this left me with a love of cameras and photography all my life.

I had been playing the five-string banjo since I was six and by this time I had conquered the guitar and the double bass so to make a few "bob" and be able to ride my Triumph Thunderbird I joined a Country Western and Square Dance Band called "Smiling Billy Blinkhorn &The Tumbleweeds" where I met my wife to be Dot and I also played Banjo and Bass with a Jazz Band called "The Port Jackson Jazz Band" played with both for year both in and out of the Army when I was not overseas.

Eighteen years old was an eventful year for me I enlisted in the Army and 9 months later I married Dot and we have been together ever since that is 53 years in January 2008 and we still have a bloody good argument when it is necessary but the truth is we live for each other
we have five children as a result so it cannot have all been bad can it?

I was in Vietnam in 1962/63 as a Military Policeman, and seen a lot of thing that nobody should but millions of others will tell you the same, I seen what Long Tam looked like and it left me with memories also.

I will call this the First Part of my post and hope that you enjoy it and look forward to further parts this is only a taster for you so let me know if I should go on!



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