Mum grew up with grandfather as the single parent, which for
the late 1920’s and 1930’s was an unusual circumstance but one mum and her
siblings seemed to revel in. He
provided a strong parental figure for her and siblings, living mostly in Mackay
- Queensland with stints in Melbourne as well over the years.
She had little to do with mother during her childhood after
she had left grandfather and the children (see the blog: Amazing Tales of Grandfather Conolly). Although on occasion she did make an impact
on mum’s life as you’ll find out in today's blog.
Mum, Bill Forbes & Aunt Dorothy circa 1938 |
It was September 1939 – Australia, as part of the British Empire was now at war. These were heady
days with tensions and passions running high particularly for the young men. This latest generation had cut their teeth on
the stories of Gallipoli and the Western Front, where their fathers and
grandfathers had forged the ANZAC tradition.
It was now their turn and they were eager to prove themselves equal to
the task and so volunteered in droves when the recruiting stations opened
shortly after the declaration of war. Strangely,
there were also many ex-diggers who after many lean years during the depression
lined up once again and enlisted as well.
Grandfather Conolly after serving in WWI and taking his sweet
time to return to Australia (see the Amazing Tales of Grandfather Conolly blog)
had also visited the recruiting station soon after the outbreak of war only to
find that his age (51)…much to his chagrin too old to be taken into the AIF,
but strongly “encouraged” to join the local militia. His youngest of five children was now
reaching the age of self-sufficiency so with no restrictions he was dead set on
getting back in the service and “doing his bit” for the mother country (well,
not that he was in the least patriot per see, but he did have an indelible
sense of adventure and loved a good scrap!).
Seems like I come by it honestly :-)
Grandfathers eldest son (Graham – mum’s brother) had already
joined the militia and realizing that this would be the best way to get back in
the service rejoined his old battalion (49th) which was now
reforming in Mackay. Uncle Graham
eventually was shipped overseas to New Guinea where he fought in the Northern
Beaches (Sanananda) campaign before succumbing to malaria and was repatriated
to Australia. Grandfather was destined
to serve out this war on Australian shores, his battalion acting as a stopgap
against the imminent threat of invasion in North Queensland.
Now I can hear you thinking – what on earth does this have
to do with mum?
Mum working in a munitions factory and looking like "Rosie the Riveter" circa 1943 |
If you’ve been following along at home you’ll remember that
in the late 1920’s grandmother left the family after it became glaringly
obvious that Grandfather Conolly had been…well lets say less than honest about
his time wartime relationships with not one but a number of nurses during his
hospital stays in England during WWI.
Anyway, shortly after mum’s 17th birthday “Nana”
shows up on their doorstep unannounced.
Wow, what an unexpected and somewhat unusual surprise, cos’ during mums
childhood it was a rather infrequent affair unless she wanted something (mum’s
words not mine!). Nana began
ingratiating herself with each of the kids and although for the most part they
were all working began wanted to spend time with each of them. Mum thought perhaps she’s realized what
she’d missed out on over their formative years and was trying to make amends,
mum being the second youngest went along with it, less so her older siblings!
A month or so later Nana arrived one afternoon with a clutch
of papers that needed to be signed for “identity purposes”…no, you don’t need
to read them you just need to sign them to ensure you’re “registered”. Once mum had signed them Nana hurriedly scooped up the
papers and quickly departs. Mum didn't think anything more of it...
Strangely Nana hadn’t returned since she had mum sign the papers that afternoon...pretty normal I suppose given her history with the kids,
but two weeks later mum received her induction paperwork and reporting date for
the Army! No, this can’t be right…I
didn’t volunteer for the army she thought to herself.
Mum desperately wants to sort this out and put it behind her,
so she goes to recruiting barracks on the specified date and finds it incredibly
loud and noisy with about 100 other women all talking excitedly amongst
themselves. They must have all volunteered
mum thought to herself, they are all quite clearly mad! Over and over she’s says to herself “not
bloody likely”.
The Sergeant Major addresses them in a strong British accent
and forms them up into rows, where upon he begins calling names alphabetically
and sending them for their fitness examinations. When her name is called she stepped forward,
but instead of marching to where he told her to go she begins explaining to the
now stunned and incredulous sergeant major that there must have been some type
of mistake as she actually hadn’t volunteered and wants to know how she can get
out of it and go home. Apparently his
language was rather colorful to say the least…even mum blushed – which would
have taken some doing I assure you!
Mum and Aunty Nora at the beach circa 1940 |
As it transpired, Nana had unbeknown to mum decided that she
should do the right thing and serve her country. She had then gone to the recruiting office
and secured the correct papers, filled them in on mum behalf and then had the
temerity to get mum to sign up. In
those days you had to be 21 to join the military unless your parents co-signed
for you, even then you had to be 19 at a minimum, but Nana had thought of that
and had increased her age appropriately!
Can you actually imagine actively volunteering your child for
military service during wartime?
Whether she liked it or not she now found herself in the
army. If you knew my mum you would
laugh uncontrollably at the prospect of this - you see mum had a full blown
case of the Foxley- Conolly temperament (stubborn, hot tempered and at times
rather belligerent), and so it was going to be a bit of coin toss as to who got
the worst time of it mum or the Australian army. At first she tried everything in her power to
be kicked out, insubordination being her first choice, which as you can imagine
only acerbated the situation – additional duties, no leave...well you get the
picture. She now seemed stuck for the
duration.
After some weeks of bucking the system she resigned herself
(at least on the surface) to do what she needed to do to survive.
Some weeks later she was finally granted weekend leave, but mum
had been scheming since this all went down and so quickly went home; changed
out of her uniform packed a bag and caught the first train to Melbourne. She wanted no part of the army, mostly on
principle rather than outright dislike for the army, but to be honest the
constant discipline and “yes sir, no sir” was a bit much for her sensibilities.
Less than a week later the military police showed up at
grandfathers door – enquiring as the whereabouts of one “Penelope Christine
Foxley-Conolly” as she was now AWOL (Absent Without Official Leave) a punishable
offence during wartime; of at the very minimum a court martial and jail time; potentially
worse if you were a guy.
By this time mum was in Melbourne some 2000 miles, staying
with friends where she eventually finding work in a munitions factory using a
shortened version of her name for cover (Peg Conolly), record keeping wasn’t
what it is today so there was no issue.
I guess over the years I heard this story 10 or so times,
and each time even as she told the story all those years later (1960 - 1970’s) she’d
still get completely worked up over it! Mum
was never one to hold back her feelings or anger, but this story always touched
a deep and unhealed nerve within her psyche… to her dying day she still held a
grudge against her mother for this unforgivable act!