By Frances Goold
He asked if we had anything planned for Anzac Day.
“A big rest” was all I could come up with. “What about you?”
“We’ll go to the Dawn Service.”
“Kids too?”
“The kids have been coming with us to the Dawn Service since they were babies. Later there’s a few of us will head off to the two-up game. The ring’s sandbagged, there’s refreshments, it’s a big tradition here.”
We’d been hanging pictures when I noticed the tat on his arm. It didn’t seem like the usual macho array so I asked if he would show it to me.
He nodded, “Sure”, raised his sleeve, and turned his arm over.
I was so moved that for a second or so I couldn’t speak. Suddenly the only picture in the room was his.
“It’s for my Pop”, he said, “he was a Rat of Tobruk. He’s passed now.”
“How was he when he came home?”
“He was fine… but he’d been wounded, hit by shrapnel, so he had that.”
“Did he talk about his experiences?”
“No, he never spoke of it, and he lived till he was 98.”
The Rats of Tobruk were soldiers of the Australian-led Allied garrison that held the Libyan port of Tobruk against the Afrika Corps during the Siege of Tobruk, which began on April 11, 1941 and ended on December 10. The port continued to be held by the Allies until its surrender on June 21, 1942.
Between April and August 1941, some 35,000 allies, including around 14,000 Australian soldiers, were besieged in Tobruk by a German–Italian army commanded by General Erwin Rommel. The garrison, commanded by Lieutenant General Leslie Morshead, included the 9th Australian Division (20th, 24th, and 26th Brigades), the 18th Brigade of the 7th Australian Division, four regiments of British artillery, and the 3rd Indian Motor Brigade.
According to the Australian War Memorial online archive, the Australian casualties from the 9th Division from 8th April to 25th October numbered 749 killed, 1,996 wounded, and 604 prisoners. The total losses in the 9th Division and attached troops from 1st March to 15th December amounted to 832 killed, 2,177 wounded and 941 prisoners.
The Australians held out for almost eight months against the German siege, which was abandoned by the Germans after 242 days when, on December 7, 1941, Rommel made the decision to fall back to Gazala. However, on June 21, 1942, Rommel began a second offensive that finally captured the fortress.
According to Colonel Ward A. Miller, “the Australians’ epic stand at Tobruk had a major impact on the war because the Germans suffered a serious and unexpected reversal. The Tobruk garrison demonstrated that the hitherto successful German blitzkrieg tactics could be defeated by resolute men who displayed courage and had the tactical and technical ability to coordinate and maximize the capabilities of their weapons and equipment in the defence.”
My proud assistant’s grandfather served in the 9th Division.
Although it’s that time of year when profound and raw emotions are held and privileged by collective remembrances across the nation, I wasn’t anticipating such a whack of it whilst hanging pictures at home.
“Every picture here tells a story”, I had said to him while we measured, drilled, and hung the first few, then suddenly here was his.
Later, while he was packing up, I asked on impulse if I might take a photograph of the tattoo, maybe write something respectful.
It wasn’t simply that I wished to capture the moment when a young married man and father of two small children paused in his work to share with me something of immense pride for him and his family, but I felt compelled to record a small, perfect work of remembrance inscribed into his flesh that both embodied and symbolised the spirit of his soldier-grandfather – as if it were a talisman I needed to hold unto myself for a little while. Revealed by his outstretched arm was a loving pride and authenticity of feeling with which I had somehow lost connection and was determined not to have disappear as soon as it had arrived.
There are memories that are suppressed, and remembrances that go on, and there are reminders of the things we are losing or have lost.
That tattoo was a reveille of sorts and a little tap toe for which I am grateful. And it’ll be that much harder to ignore the day.
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