FEATURE
Today marks the 66th Anniversary of National Service in Australia. Nashos, families and friends will gather at the memorial on Marius St at 5pm to recognise their contribution to Australia’s defence.
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In the aftermath of World War II, with the increasing tensions brought about by The Cold War, Middle Eastern conflict, Communist insurgencies in Asia and the realities of atomic weaponry, the world was living on a knife edge and facing the looming spectre of nuclear war.
To shore up homeland defence by bolstering support for an Armed Services that seemed insufficient to meet the threat of foreign aggressors, Prime Minister Robert Menzies reintroduced conscription. It was an act which had bi-partisan political support, according to historian Allen Callaghan.
In the first scheme, 227,000 men, turning 18 on or after November 1, were conscripted between 1951 and 1959. They were to undertake basic training for 176 days followed by five years in the Reserves.These young men did not see active service, though unfortunately some were exposed to atomic bomb tests at Bello Islands and Maralinga during the ’50s.
In the second scheme, between 1965 and 1972, men aged 20 were selected by a ballot.
This was the period of the Indonesian confrontation and Vietnam War. Sixty-three thousand men were called up. Two hundred and twelve died on active service.
Tamworth Nashos Jim Jordan and Don Smith were both conscripted in the ‘50s as 18 year-olds. Both came from families that had a long history of military service to their nation.
Both Jim’s father and grandfather fought in World War 1 and his two older brothers also did National Service.
After his three months basic training Jim joined the Royal Australian Army Service Corps which dealt with supply and transport. It was a natural fit for Jim. “My father was also a transports man, getting supplies to the front line by horse and cart during World War I.”
Don Smith’s father had fought in the trenches in France in World War 1 and enlisted again for World War II. His older brother fought in the Pacific and his sister was a member of the Australian Women’s Army Service.
Don was part of 53 Railway Squadron, an engineers corps. He volunteered to fight in the Korean campaign, but the conflict was settled before he was needed. Don thinks some were better equipped to cope with National Service than others:
“I think boys from the land handled National Service better because most of them already had the respect and discipline that was needed. You got that working on properties. I think the boys from town found it harder.”
Australian War Memorial chief historian Ashley Ekins has noted that senior army commanders were initially reluctant to accept national service because it meant they had to devote a large part of their better trained men to training new recruits.
“That was not seen as an efficient use of manpower, but as it turned out it surprised everybody the quality of the troops they got.”
“It really raised the standard of the army in some respects and certainly provided all of the battalions serving in Vietnam with very fine military material.”
For both Don and Jim, National Service was a positive experience, and they were proud to have the opportunity to play their roles in the defence of their country, but they are also both acutely aware that for others the experience was damaging.
“The Vietnam boys did it pretty hard,” said Don.
“They did their basic training and then they could be sent to any corps, fighting alongside regulars, out in the bush for weeks at at time.”
Many suffered badly from the effects of the defoliant known as Agent Orange, others would carry the effects of physical injury with them the rest of their lives. But as has been increasingly realised, it was not always the physical scarring that had the most profound effects on those who returned from Vietnam.
As Don says, “there was a lot of objection to Vietnam, and some of the boys got a pretty hard time when they returned.
“They were heckled and spat at by protestors, it had become very political.
“It wasn’t much of a welcome home.”
As Callaghan points out, these young men found themselves in the “invidious position of not only being conscripted but also subjected to derision by some of the Australian public on their return” as the war in Vietnam became increasingly unpopular.
And there has been a need for support and camaraderie.
Jim Jordan is the president of the Oxley Sub Branch of the National Serviceman’s Association, and Don Smith is the secretary of the branch.
“We often find out that there is a Nasho living around the area, and we might go and look them up and have a bit of a chat,” says Jim.
“They might be a little quiet at first, but I take a box of old photos and we look through them, and before long they’re chatting about their own experiences, and we get a bit of a laugh out of them.
“We hold regular meetings and it’s a great chance for people to catch up and talk over old times.
“Often people will come to a meeting and recognise a chap they used to know.
“We can offer support and help one another out, and keep the spirit of the Nashos alive.
“When a Nasho passes away we can recognise their contribution, give them a guard of honour at their funeral, lay a plaque to remember them by.”