I wanted to write a reflection this year to give honour to
two of my heroes.
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| Roderick Joseph Wyatt |
The first is my Grandad, Roderick Joseph Wyatt. He was born in Gladstone, on 2nd February 1894, his father was a merchant ship captain. My Grandad joined the Royal Australian Navy 100 years ago, in 1912, he was 18 years old, The Great War (WW1) was yet to start. He was allocated to a number of different ships, including HMAS Sydney (1913-1916), HMAS Brisbane (1916-1918), HMAS Melbourne (1918-1919) and HMAS Australia (1919).
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| HMAS Sydney (I) |
He worked as a Stoker, 2nd class, in the boiler rooms. This was certainly no easy job; it was back breaking work, to keep the engines of the great ships turning, and moving. The ships he served on were often under attack, and he was on the HMAS Sydney when it was in battle with the German Cruiser the SMS Emden on 9th November 1914. Luckily for us, they were victorious in sinking this ship. He served for 7 years at war, after this my Grandfather returned home to his wife and they began a family. My Grandad continued to work hard to provide for his family and lived till he was 82. I was fortunate to know him as a young child, and enjoyed his many stories. He retired to Magnetic Island, off Townsville, and would take daily walks along Horseshoe Bay Beach.
He rarely mentioned his Navy years, and apart from his
service record we have little understanding of what those years were like. We have a few photos of him at the time, and
a written piece on the medals he received.
From reading other accounts from sailors, it was clear that his courage
and willingness to service his country, and perform his duty is something that
deserves respect and honour. They may
not be called ANZAC in true form as those in the Army corps, but they still shone
the ANZAC spirit. The tenacity to dig in
under fire, to fight against the odds, to stand by a mate, all with a sense of humour
and a bit of larrikinisms; was the spirit that made this country great, and
keeps us proud of all servicemen and women.
Today I remember my Grandad and the legacy he left
behind. I will always remember him with
fondness, and much pride. Thank you for
answering the call, knowing the high cost that military service may ask of you.
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| Harold Connett |
My second hero, I never got to meet. His name was Harold Connett, he was my Uncle. He served in WW2, as a Navy pilot. He left his home in America to serve his country. He gave the ultimate cost, his life. He was shot down somewhere over the Pacific, dying in a watery grave, known only to God.
When I was last in the States, my brother showed me some
personal letters, papers surrounding Harold’s service life, as well as his
personal life. It was the saddest
reflection to read accounts and letters, to feel the grief that the family
bore, the initial hope that the report of ‘missing in action’ might actually
mean he could still be alive. They lived
this hope for some time, until the report from other officers took away that
hope. As a mother and wife, I cannot
begin to imagine the pain that my Grandparents endured, a pain that never truly
goes away. I have had the privilege of
hearing beautiful childhood stories from Hugh, Theo and Hartley (Harold’s
brothers and sister), and their sibling grief as they shared what the profound
loss of their brother had on their lives.
It is a difficult sorrow to bare, no grave to visit, only a telegram and
letter, just words to bring the dreadful news.
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| Harold Connetts' Medals |
In the next few days, I will go to the beach, to the Pacific Ocean on our shores, to throw forth some rosemary, to remember my Uncle. I recently watched the series on TV called “The Pacific”, and with each episode I’d think of Harold. The bravery, the courage, the determination that these men showed is inspiring to say the least. I am humbled and proud to call Harold my Uncle, and knowing his brothers, and stories of my own father, I know he would have been an amazing person to know and love.
His siblings may have aged, but Harold still remains the
handsome young man in his naval uniform, in a portrait that hangs proudly in my
Uncle Hugh’s home.
“Age will not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning, we will remember them.
Lest We Forget.”
At the going down of the sun and in the morning, we will remember them.
Lest We Forget.”
Remembered with humbled gratitude and never forgotten.
