Page 1

On other pages this week:

Wayne Bevan

Public Duties pix

Vale Sir Zelman Cowen

Cadet stuff

Training

Memories of Christmas past

Weekly Newsletter of St John Ambulance Australia (NT) Thursday 8 December 2011

Rosie Ballinger 08 8922 6234

Assistant Volunteer Coordinator

volunteer@stjohnnt.asn.au

Frank Dunstan 0429 886751

Newsletter editor

frank.dunstan@yahoo.com

St John websites St John Ambulance Australia (NT)

www.stjohnnt.org.au

St John Ambulance Australia

Members’ website

www.stjohn.org.au

Order of St John

www.orderofstjohn.org

Contact Frank to subscribe to this

newsletter

Please send contributions to

Frank

Closing time

8.00 pm CST Thursday

Some great news – Monday evening was the official NT Volunteer of the Year

Awards and St John NT won the inaugural “Volunteering SA & NT Award for

Organisational Excellence”.

Commissioner Steve Peers and his team need to be congratulated on continuing to

provide a second to none volunteering service to the NT Community and this

recognition is due reward for the excellent work and effort provided by each and

every Volunteer in our ranks. The award again highlights the ability of the

Organisation to work as one with tremendous support from Operational staff

working closely with the Volunteers in all regions of the NT. A special mention

must go to Cheryl, Gwyn and Deb for putting together such a great application.

It has been a big year but the rewards and Community recognition received makes

all the hard work worthwhile.

Well done everyone

Ross Coburn

Chief Executive Officer

Gemma Gray awarded Commissioner’s Badge

Gemma Gray from the Cadet Band

Division recently received the

Commissioner’s Badge.

The Commissioner’s Badge is one of

the highest awards a Junior can

receive. It is the Junior equivalent to

the Grand Priors Award. To receive

the Commissioners Badge, the

member must complete nine Interest

Badges including Knowledge of the

Order which shows great commitment

over a number of years.

Congratulations to Gemma who has

since moved up to become a Cadet.

Kimberlee McKay

Vollie News Thursday 8th December 2011

Page 2

Wayne Bevan

Wayne is Divisional Ambulance Officer in Palmerston

Adult Division, and his job a Paramedic with St John

Ambulance NT.

This photo was taken last month on a training activity

where Wayne joined us to instruct in casualty simulation

for our yearly logs books.

To Wayne’s surprise it was really to celebrate his 17 Year

Service Bar that was awarded in September. Due to his

responsibilities as a Paramedic we were not able to have

the award presented until later in the year because we

all wanted to celebrate with Wayne what he has given to

our Volunteers over the years.

Congratulations and thank you, Wayne.

Benny

Public Duties pix

Thanks to Peter Poole for sending in these photos from the Carols by Candlelight public duty:

Vale Sir Zelman Cowen

Sir Zelman Cowen has just died at the age of 92. As Governor General he was very much a friend to St John in the

Territory, laying the Clerkenwell Stone in 1978 and opening the Casuarina Headquarters in 1980. Having followed the

controversial Sir John Kerr he was called “the healing Governor General”, a name he lived up to.

Vollie News Thursday 8th December 2011

Page 3

Cadet stuff – Frank Dunstan

Did you know there were once Cadet Divisions in the

Darwin northern suburbs at Casuarina, Sanderson,

Leanyer and Dripstone and that one was proposed for

Nightcliff, but failed to go ahead because of the lack of

Adults to properly manage it?

There was also a Cadet Division at Howard Springs

that moved into Palmerston to become Palmerston

and Rural Cadet Division, dropping the “and Rural”

when the Humpty Doo Cadets started up.

There were also Cadet Divisions at Adelaide River,

Batchelor, Warrego and Jabiru.

In the early days there was segregation in St John and

men and boys formed Ambulance Divisions while

women and girls were in Nursing Divisions. The

concept of breaking down the barriers came about

when there weren’t enough members to form a

Division and both sexes united to form Combined

Divisions.

Because of this segregation the northern suburbs

started as Casuarina Ambulance Cadet Division (boys

only) and a year or two later, Casuarina Nursing Cadet

Division (girls only). They later united to form

Casuarina Combined Cadet Division and actually had

as many as 160 cadets at one stage. This forced them

to split their training nights and then form other Cadet

Divisions to ease the load. Even with the new

Divisions things got so far out of hand that District and

Corps staff were finally forced to step in to restrict

cadet numbers to manageable levels.

What usually causes Cadet Divisions to fail is a lack of

Adult management and all those northern suburbs

Divisions progressively amalgamated back with

Casuarina, which in turn amalgamated with the

Darwin Cadet Division.

Our Cadets have a very interesting history, but not a

lot is known about their early days because all the

media attention was directed towards the Adult

Divisions. I have also noticed over the years that our

Cadets are very much underrepresented in Vollie

News and that you may be more comfortable with

your own newsletter, a sort of Cadet Vollie News.

I believe there are many Cadets (and also Adult

members) who don’t see Vollie News at all. When I

spoke to one about this and said that Divisional

Superintendents were supposed to forward the

newsletter to their members, the reply was that “this

was in the too hard basket”.

So what about a Cadet newsletter? It may be just the

thing to overcome this apathy and generate a bit of

enthusiasm. There is a lot of talent out there and the

articles sent to Vollie News from Alice Springs Cadets

have been very well put together.

Think about it over the holiday break.

Training

Apply Advance First Aid

Where: Parap Centre

When: Friday 3rd February Time: 1800--2200

Saturday 4th February Time: 0800 -1700

Sunday 5th February Time: 0800 -1700

Anyone who missed out on the last course will be given priority on this one and need not reapply

January 2012

28/ 29 January

Management Development Program 2nd weekend

Palmerston

Vollie News Thursday 8th December 2011

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Memories of Christmas past – Frank Dunstan

Christmas once more ... how it brings back memories,

now that life has slowed and one has time to think

about days of long ago.

Part of my childhood was spent on the family – my

mother’s family, that is – farm at a place called

Oakagee, about 15 miles along the highway north of

Geraldton in Western Australia, then drive or walk

another 3½ miles east from the main road into the

farm. There were no kilometres in those days, just

miles; at least that’s how it was in our part of

Australia, so that would now be a little over 5½

kilometres by today’s measurement.

Don’t kilometres make places seem further away than

they really are? They do for me.

We kids got to know every inch of those 3½ miles

because we walked them every school day to catch

the bus into town and then back home again, until in

late 1950, or maybe even early 1951, when we were

bought second-hand bikes to ride the distance.

Nowadays most parents would be rightfully disturbed

at the thought of a seven (me) and a nine-year-old

(my sister) walking that distance unaccompanied to

catch a school bus, but it was a lonely bush road

without traffic and we were in no danger.

I’ve recently looked it up on Google Earth and the

road now bears the family name (Olsen), they spell

Oakagee with a “j” and the area is a lot more

developed with farms everywhere. The road has been

built up, straightened a lot and widened and looks like

a gravel super highway compared with sixty years ago,

but is still recognisable at the farm end, not so much

further away due to major changes. It was just a dirt

road back then, certainly not the red gravel it is now.

My knowledge of that road is based on more than just

childhood memories through trips back to the farm as

a young adult.

Anyhow ... one thing about walking is that you get to

notice things, unlike when travelling at high speed in a

motor car. We got to know every tree, every rock,

every gully and every other feature along that road.

We knew in which wattles to find the tastiest gum and

when it would be ready and many other secrets

unknown to those with less time and patience.

In the springtime it was absolutely wonderful. Have

you ever been out bush in south Western Australia

when the wildflowers come out? If so, you’ll know

exactly what I mean. If not ... well, that should be one

of the things to do at least once in your lifetime.

When the flowers came out it took a lot longer to

walk home than at other times of the year.

Just as springtime was a time of wonder, summer was

anything but. Top Enders only think they know hot

weather. Western Australia gets hot – brain boiling,

mind numbing hot, and not good weather for walking.

Mornings were tolerable, but the afternoons were

hell. Schools weren’t airconditioned in those days and

neither were school buses and already hot and tired

we dreaded getting off the bus to face that long walk

home. On very bad days Uncle Johnny would drive out

to pick us up, much to our relief, but it was an

unexpected treat that didn’t happen too often. It was

always Johnny, never George. Johnny was an old

softie, but George was a hard man (to us), something I

believe he got from his Swedish father. However, I

later saw on several occasions that same man kind

and considerate to other people in trouble or down

on their luck. It’s a strange world.

We were glad to finally get the bikes and the road

now became something to travel as fast as we could

and much of the adventure was gone.

As a young adult I went back to the farm to visit and

found that Uncle George was now married and drove

his kids to the highway to catch the bus. They were his

kids, not his sister’s brats who had been dumped on

him while she was down in Perth working. I didn’t feel

envious of my cousins though, I just thought they

were soft and spoiled and still think that today.

I have only vague fleeting recollections of how we got

on in winter. Winters down there can be cold and wet

and miserable, although not as bad as Perth, and for

the life of me I just can’t drag up any substantial

memory of how we got to school in that weather.

You’d think that after remembering all that other stuff

this would be easy, but it just isn’t there. I have tried

to imagine what it may have been like, but just can’t

trigger the memory. There are glimpses of being out

Vollie News Thursday 8th December 2011

Page 5

on the road in the rain, but so vague as to be probable

imaginings from trying too hard to remember.

There’s little point in asking my sister, even if I could. I

won’t go into details except to say that it’s very

important to keep mentally active, especially as you

get older and don’t get yourself addicted to DVDs.

Meanwhile, back on the farm. There were sheep and

chooks and the uncles grew wheat, peas and lupins

and sometimes barley, though the lupins were just a

manure crop to put nitrogen back into the soil. We

also had a cow and a horse, old Jiggle, but the uncles

never rode him and we kids only ever got on his back

when older cousin Bob Fitz came out to the farm and

we rode up behind him.

The farm was too far out from town to have electric

power, so we made do without it. A windmill pumped

water from the well and lights were candles made

from dripping instead of the more traditional wax.

Cans that once held food were filled with dripping and

a string wick run down the centre. It was crude, but

effective. We also had hurricane lamps and pump up

pressure lamps fuelled by kerosene, but these were

usually only lit when we needed to go outside or

wanted extra bright light.

There were canvas bags of cool drinking water and a

fly wire covered safe to keep food away from the

blowies. The legs of the safe stood in cans half filled

with water and topped with kero to keep the ants out.

There was the usual wood stove that burnt all day

with always a kettle of hot water on the side.

We very soon learned to eat everything on our plates

because what we didn’t eat was put into the safe and

served up for our next meal, usually breakfast. There

was no wastage or room for fussy eaters.

Every so often Uncle Johnny would kill a wether and

we’d have fresh meat to eat for a few days, the rest

being salted down with rock salt that we used to

gather from a salt lake at Port Gregory to the north.

We called the meat ‘salt junk’ and I’m glad I don’t

have to eat it this Christmas.

Port Gregory was interesting for the old convict ruins

that had remains of the tiny cells. Western Australia

was the only colony that started out free and actually

asked for convicts as a source of slave labour. South

Australia would have nothing to do with that rotten

trade while the other colonies had them imposed,

although not unwillingly, at least until they were no

longer needed.

Now where was I?

We didn’t always eat mutton though, as every now

and then one of the hens would be too slow and get

itself run over and we would have a tough old bird for

our dinner. Every year we would catch a chook for

Christmas dinner, lop its head and then let it go. Have

you ever heard the expression “running around like a

chook with its head cut off”? Believe me, they can

sure run.

The chook farms of the day were more for eggs than

table birds and chicken on the table was a rare treat.

Our chooks were unfenced free range that mostly

died of old age and Grandma used to sell the eggs in

town. Sometimes she’d send us to the Oakagee

railway siding with eggs to sell to the train crew, for

about a shilling a dozen, if I remember rightly.

That railway line is long gone and I could find no trace

on Google Earth of even where it may have been.

Then one year – 1951? – we got flash when the uncles

brought home a kerosene fridge. The luxury of cold

water that didn’t taste strongly of canvas, fresh foods

instead of canned and the greatest luxury of all,

homemade ice cream; we were in heaven.

Then along came television. At first we used to watch

it on trips into town, but the uncles had a real surprise

in store. They had somehow managed to get hold of a

TV set that ran on kerosene and it was delivered to

the farm just before Christmas 1959.

There was a monstrous great aerial put up on a tower

next to the house and after a lot of fiddling the set

was fired up on Christmas Eve. Amazing, we now had

TV, which was more than many people with electric

power could say. The picture wasn’t perfect and the

blue dye they put in kerosene gave the picture a

bluish tint, but it was heaven to us kids. A minor

problem was that the wick needed regular trimming

to stop it smoking and blacking out the screen with

soot, but we soon got used to that and often fought

over whose turn it was to trim the wick.

Vollie News Thursday 8th December 2011

Page 6

There was a major drawback with those early kero TV

sets though, as we were soon to discover. In the early

days of TV the airways were filled with Western

shootemups, which we kids absolutely loved. It

appears that electric TV sets automatically zap all the

dead cowboys out of existence once the scene

changes, but a kero TV didn’t have the ability to do

that. In our TV the little dead cowboys used to pile up

in the bottom of the picture tube which got quite

whiffy after a few days. Then we’d have to get the TV

repairman out from town to empty them out and give

the inside of the picture tube a good clean at the

same time.

Well, we soon got used to that too, and enjoyed our

little kero TV set.

Then colour TV came to Australia, in about 1975 as I

remember.

The uncles hadn’t run out of surprises and just before

Christmas 1976 they bought one of the new colour TV

sets by mail order. This was a vast improvement over

the old black and blue, even though it needed more

maintenance. This one came with three tanks for the

specially dyed kerosene; magenta, blue and yellow. It

also burnt wicks of the same colours in each tank.

After a bit of mucking about we fired it up on

Christmas Day and enjoyed the wonder of a coloured

picture on the screen. Bliss!

This set had a new innovation in that the little dead

cowboys no longer piled up on the bottom of the

picture tube, but were funnelled into a bin that could

be easily removed and emptied. Every three or four

days or so we kids would dig a little grave in the

garden and hold a proper funeral service with full

honours for these miniature warriors. In our hearts

we needed to do this because with the old set the

little deaduns had been grey and artificial looking, but

these were now in full colour and seemed more

pathetic and real, and we couldn’t just feed them to

the cats as Uncle George said we should.

Another feature of the new set was an internal

cleaning mechanism, similar to a car window wiper,

but with an up and down motion, rather than in an

arc. Just put soapy water in the tank, crank the handle

and let it automatically clean the soot from the inside

of the screen.

Then in 1993 a powerline came out to the farm and

we had electricity at long last. It was farewell to the

kero fridge and that beloved old kero TV that had

served us well for so many years. The special wicks

and kerosene had long gone out of production and

the stuff we made ourselves just didn’t come out

quite right, anyway.

There were no more little funeral services and the fun

had gone out of being kids, so we decided it was time

to grow up and leave home.

I joined the Navy and retired after a long and

illustrious career as Captain of the Heads.

My sister had a pet rabbit on the farm which died

when the myxo came through and wiped out all its

wild mates in the early 1960’s. In memory of that little

rabbit she bred like one and at last count had just one

more to go for a cricket team of kids.

Cousin Gordon said it just wasn’t fair and that he

wasn’t going to be made to grow up by anybody. The

last I heard he was still on the farm, a wizened grey

bearded, bald headed 12 year-old, still trying to get

that old kero TV to work once more.

I think that the new digital TV will flummox him once

and for all, though. The old kero sets were purely

analogue and I’ve been told there’s no way they can

be converted to digital, not even with a set top box.

Besides, there’s no such thing as a kero set top box, is

there?

Merry Christmas

For the sceptics, just google “kero tv” and see what

comes up – it’s all true, you know.

It has been suggested that your newsletter has a name change to go with its new look. What do you think?

Should it stay Vollie News or be renamed and if so, to what?

Please send your thoughts and suggestions to frank.dunstan@yahoo.com

My vote is for keeping Vollie News, but I thought that name up in the first place and am biased. Frank