Saturday, November 26, 2011

5 Sentence Fiction: Sacrifice

I'm joining 5 Sentence Fiction with Lillie McFerrin Writes today.

What it’s all about: Five Sentence Fiction is about packing a powerful punch in a tiny fist. Each week I will post a one word inspiration, then anyone wishing to participate will write a five sentence story based on the inspiration word. The word does not have to appear in your five sentences, just take your inspiration from that word. 

This week’s inspiration word is: SACRIFICE



In the winter of 1912, Amy Beechey stood in widow's black by the side of her husband's grave.  


Alone, with 14 children to raise, sacrifices would have to be made but the family pulled together and with the help of the older children, Amy struggled on.  


Stoic in her sadness, Amy did not know that greater grief was yet to come.  


Less than five years later, five of her kind and handsome sons; Barnard, Frank, Charles, Harold and Leonard would be killed in the war and another, Christopher, maimed for life.  


After the war, swallowed up in a nation deep in mourning for it's lost generation, Amy Beechey was finally presented to the King and Queen and thanked for her immense sacrifice; at that moment she who had paid the ultimate price looked the Queen in the face and replied, ‘It was no sacrifice, Ma’am, for I did not give them willingly.’

NB: The full story of the Beechey family can be found here.

Friday, November 25, 2011

A Tragic End to a Wonderful Story

If you live in Australia, you have probably heard about the bushfires raging across the beautiful coastline of Margaret River in WA. So far over 30 homes have been destroyed. Although I live in Melbourne now I spent a big portion of my life in and around that area. My sister and her family and my dad and step mum still live there but thankfully they are about 15 minutes further south.

I have been following the news closely from Melbourne and was absolutely shattered to hear that despite the efforts of firefighters and water helicopters, the terrible winds flaming the fire caused it to jump the Margaret River and they were unable to save historic Wallcliffe House.


Wallcliffe House, a picturesque homestead built in 1865 by the pioneering Bussell family, was perched on a small ridge overlooking the mouth of the Margaret River.  Whenever I would drive down Wallcliffe Road towards the beach I would always look out for its chimneys and shingled roof.  I remember my mum taking my sisters and I to visit the house and being amazed at the steepness and skinniness of its staircases.  I always wondered how the Bussell women had managed to climb up and down those staircases in their long Victorian dresses. 




Aside from its character and charm, one of the most interesting things about Wallcliffe House was its association with a famous episode of courage and heroism which generations of Australian school children were taught.

On 1 December 1876, the ship, Georgette, was grounded on rocks at Calgardup Bay just south of Wallcliffe House and began to break up. 

The pitiful scene was witnessed by a 30 year old Aboriginal stockman, Sam Yebble Isaacs, who immediately rode to the homestead at Wallcliffe House to get help.  The only person at home was Grace Bussell, then just 16 years old.  Grace rode her horse to the bay with Isaacs where they met a scene of utter misery with women and children from the boat being thrown into the surf.  Without hesitation, Grace Bussell plunged into the surf on her horse. 
Over the course of four hours, Grace and Sam Isaacs fought the waves on horseback and saved the passengers from certain death.  Almost all the passengers were saved and taken back to Wallcliffe House to recover.  Grace and Sam were later awarded the medal of the Royal Humane Society.

There are two interesting endings to this story….

The bravery of 16 year old Grace Bussell made her internationally famous. A young man from a well known Perth family, Frederick Drake-Brockman, read of Grace’s exploits in the paper and rode 300 kilometres on horseback just to meet her.  They fell in love and were later married.  Grace lived to the ripe old age of 75 and the little house owned by Frederick and Grace in Guildford is only a few doors away from my mum's house.

Sam Yebble Isaacs, the son of a Native American Indian whaler who had absconded from his ship in the 1830’s and an Aboriginal woman from the Wardandie tribe near Augusta, was granted a 100 acre block of land of his selection for his heroism.  He chose a spot on the Margaret River not far from Wallcliffe House and raised a large family there.  Sam Isaacs died in 1920 at the age of 75 (he was tragically killed when a sulky he was travelling in overturned) and is buried in the Busselton Pioneer Cemetery.  His descendents still live in the area.
It saddens me to think that Grace Bussell's family home is no more.  It's a terrible loss for the generations of families that have lived in the home and especially for its current owners, the Chaney family, who have put so much work into the property and gardens.  And it's a terrible loss of history for the wider community.  I will always have fond memories of Wallcliffe House.

Polly Dolly: Drive

I'm linking up with Danimezza for this week's Polly Dolly Polyvore challenge!

This week's inspiration is DRIVE...

Today Polly Dolly is test driving the soon-to-be-released Mercedes electronic sports car on Via Aurelia, the famous curvy road that hugs the coastline of the Italian Riviera.  She's fully equipped for speed in a sulphur yellow leather jacket, Prada's streamlined shield sunglasses, a Marc Jacobs sports watch and Cartier's "Panther" ring in platinum, diamonds and onyx.  Ohhhh, lucky Polly!


You can find out exactly what Polly's wearing here.
Polly Dolly: Drive

Monday, November 21, 2011

5 Sentence Fiction: Lightning

'm joining 5 Sentence Fiction with Lillie McFerrin Writes today.

What it’s all about: Five Sentence Fiction is about packing a powerful punch in a tiny fist. Each week I will post a one word inspiration, then anyone wishing to participate will write a five sentence story based on the inspiration word. The word does not have to appear in your five sentences, just take your inspiration from that word. 


This week’s inspiration word is: LIGHTNING




Six months into the Gallipoli campaign, dysentery and a monotonous diet forced men to spend hours perched over makeshift latrines and due to recent sniping in the area, orders had been given that men must attend the latrines in pairs.

Consisting of a long, narrow pit with an A-frame at each end supporting two long poles, the lower pole was used to ‘perch’ on with one’s nether regions hanging over the back, and the higher pole, which ran across the middle of the perchee’s back, was there to stop the hapless individual from falling in.

On this night, Guy Atherton found himself in the unenviable position of being asked to accompany Caruthers to the latrine (everyone else in the Mess Hut had taken care to avoid this request as Caruthers had a habit of squatting for forty minutes whilst keeping up an endless stream of small talk punctuated by groans, splashes and grunts).

The night was stinking hot and humid and the stench arising from the latrine was almost indescribable forcing Guy to hold his sleeve over his nose and yet Caruthers squatted there serenely, his posterior glowing white in the moonlight, seemingly oblivious to the smell and the flies.

Just then, an almighty bang shook the earth around them and the sky lit up phosphorescent white, Guy threw himself to the ground only to realize within seconds that it wasn’t a Turkish shell but a lightning strike just a few feet away; Caruthers, to Guy’s amusement, was no longer perched on the A-frame.


Tuesday, November 15, 2011

Polly Dolly: Gym

I'm linking up with Danimezza for this week's Polly Dolly Polyvore challenge!

This week's inspiration is GYM...

Polly Dolly hates to sweat, so she is taking a Pilates class instead.  The baby blue ballet wrap and leg warmers perfectly set off her Tiffany starfish pendant and earrings and the soft chiffon skirt hides all those bits you don't want to show at the gym!


You can find out exactly what Polly's wearing here.
Polly Dolly: Gym

Friday, November 11, 2011

5 Sentence Fiction: Delectable

I'm joining 5 Sentence Fiction with Lillie McFerrin Writes today.

What it’s all about: Five Sentence Fiction is about packing a powerful punch in a tiny fist. Each week I will post a one word inspiration, then anyone wishing to participate will write a five sentence story based on the inspiration word. The word does not have to appear in your five sentences, just take your inspiration from that word. 

This week’s inspiration word is: DELECTABLE





Chateau d’Armancourt, just outside Paris, had led a chequered history since its aristocratic owner met an untimely death at the hands of Madame Guillotine in 1796.

A one time convent, insane asylum, boarding school and army headquarters during both wars, the Chateau had been reborn as a luxury hotel and high-end cooking school.

It was also the location for the filming of 'Sex on the Table', a cooking show featuring the culinary talents of Stefanie Lefroy, a former model turned celebrity chef, and the darling of Parisian television.

Inside the white marble kitchen with its grand fireplace, copper saucepans and pots of herbs, the cameraman, Guillaume, zoomed in closely as Stefanie swept a piping hot nectarine tart out of the oven and placed it on the marble countertop, her spectacular cleavage perfectly framing the tart.

Stefanie poked a finger into the shiny glazed surface and delicately licked it, ‘"mmmmm, delectable" she pronounced, winking at the camera….Guillaume rather thought so too.

11/11/11 Who are we remembering?

On the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month in 1918, the Armistice to end the First World War was officially signed between the Allies and the Germans in a railway carriage near the Compiegne Forest in France.

In 1919, King George V dedicated the 11th of November as a special Remembrance Day for the members of the armed forces who were killed in World War I.

The war ended 93 years ago and, for many Australians, relates only to the distant but valiant story of Gallipoli.

So who are we to remember?

Here are just a few stories of ordinary young Australian men who never came home.


Alfred Victor Momphlait was a 28 year old clerk from Port Adelaide in South Australia.  He enlisted on 17 July 1915 in the 32nd Battalion and was killed 1 year and 3 days later on 20 July 1916 in the Battle of Fromelles (sometimes known as the Battle of Fleurbaix).

Fromelles was the first major battle the Australians took part in on the Western Front.  It was a terrible annihilation with over 5,533 Australian casualties.  Two battalions, including Alfred's were effectively destroyed.  Out of 887 soldiers in the 60th Battalion, only one officer and 106 men survived.

The area where the battle took place was retaken by the Germans almost immediately and the Australian dead were buried in mass graves behind German lines.  Some of these pits were discovered in the 1920's and the remains re-buried in a war cemetery nearby as unidentified soldiers.

In 2007 an Australian school teacher, Lamis Englezos located a new burial pit near the village of Fromelles.  The remains were exhumed in 2009 and 250 bodies were recovered, 203 of these Australian.  Alfred Victor Momphlait was identified by DNA testing.

RIP.


Rowland Joseph Hill and Alfred John Hill

Rowland and Alfred Hill were born in Echuca Victoria but the family later moved to Perth.  The brothers enlisted in the Army in 1915.  Alfred, a dentist, enlisted in June, and was sent to Gallipoli.  Following the retreat from Gallipoli in December 1915 he was sent to France in March 1916 as part of the reinforcements for the 28th Battalion, joining his brother Rowland.  Rowland, a railway employee,  enlisted in September and was sent directly to France as part of the 28th Battalion.

The 28th Battalion was engaged on the Somme in the Western Front, near the village of Pozieres, the scene of the worst conditions and worst fighting in all of the war.

Alfred, who had survived Gallipoli, was killed in action on July 29th, 1916.  His brother Rowland was killed in action 2 weeks later on August 14th, 1916.  The bodies of both boys were recovered but they are buried in separate cemeteries.  Their poor mother on receiving the telegrams so close together.

RIP


Felix George Buck (known as Sonny) and Alexander Percy Buck 

Sonny Buck was 22 years old when he enlisted in Western Australia in late 1915.  Sonny joined the 12th Battalion in France and in August 1916 was severely wounded.  Sonny was shot by a machine gun numerous times in the back and was then buried alive after a shell exploded nearly.  After 5 days fighting for his life he was evacuated to England.  Sonny was permanently discharged from the Army in 1917, before the end of the war, suffering from shell shock.

In 1920, Sonny died from a gunshot wound while out hunting near his home in WA.  It is not known if this injury was self inflicted.  He was 27 years old.

Alexander Buck was 21 years old when he enlisted in Western Australia in 1916.  He was sent directly to France.  In January 1917 he was wounded in action and sent to hospital in England.  He returned to France in July 1917.  Three months later, in October 1917 he suffered gunshot wounds to the head and a compound fracture to the skull.  He was evacuated to England and sent back to Australia on a hospital ship in May 1918 before the end of the war.

In 1923, he died from his war injuries at home in  Bunbury.  H was 27 years old.

Although these two brothers survived the war, their physical and mental wounds ended up taking both their short lives.

RIP


William Henry Bowman, known as Bill

William Henry Bowman is my great uncle, my grandfather's oldest brother.  He enlisted in the AIF in July 1915 at the age of 18 and was sent to France as part of the 52nd Battalion.  Bill enlisted because his father and grandmother were German settlers from South Australia.  This was not looked upon with favour by the small country town in which he lived and so he enlisted to serve in the Army as soon as he was able to, being the only son old enough to fight.

The 52nd Battalion were fighting near the village of Pozieres, where Rowland and Alfred Hill were also killed.  On September 3rd, 1916, the 52nd took part in the Battle of Mouquet Farm.  Bill and over 300 men from his Battalion were killed on that day, he was 19 years old.

As the Germans took over this ground, Bill's body was never recovered.  No one who saw him that day survived the battle and therefore nothing is known of how and when he fell, or where.

His mother never recovered from the shock of losing her firstborn child in such terrible and unknown circumstances.

RIP dear Bill.

These are just some of the stories of the soldiers we remember on this day but there are so many more.

In WWI, Australia had a population of less than 5 million people.  Over 416,000 men (almost all between the ages of 18 and 40) enlisted to serve in WWI.  60,000 were killed in action and 56,000 were wounded, gassed or taken prisoner.

My great uncle Bill came from a little farming hamlet in WA.  Of the 27 men who enlisted to fight, only 18 came home.  One third of the young men never returned.

This is why we should remember.
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