Ambulance Driver

In the process of reorganising the cupboards (i.e. the shelves we've put in the wardrobes) in the study, I came across this photo of my father shortly before he shipped out to Fiji for further training. My older sister had the original black and white photo made into a colour photo, and my mother passed on the photo to me. 

Keen to help the war effort against the fascists, my father chose to enlist as an ambulance driver, because he did not want to kill other people. The  eldest brother, and the third and fourth brother, had no such qualms. Nø 5 stayed on the farm, while Nø 6 was a stoker in the Navy, and suffered severe lung disease as a consequence. The seventh son was too young, even at war's end.

None of the brothers spoke much about their experiences, but I know that 1, 3 and 4 did not have an easy time.

My father was injured (fractured spine) in a truck crash (he was a passenger) in training in Fiji and was returned to NZ once the spine was stable. His views were shown by the fact that he would never collect stamps from Japan or Germany; but he never spoke to my brother or me (our sisters did not collect stamps) about why, nor did he try and discourage us from collecting stamps from all countries.

In his retirement, he was able to return to Fiji, taking my mother on her first and only overseas trip. Afterwards, he spoke more about what being in Fiji during the war was like. 

I suspect that he had some "survivor guilt", as the injury meant that he was unable to travel with his group to North Africa, from where few returned. Going back to Fiji, and seeing it afresh, allowed for putting a few ghosts to bed. 

He was an honourable man who held to his principles, and gave more than his share to the community, wherever he was. I am glad that my children knew him. I am sad that my grandchildren did not. I am proud to be his son.