There's a book out

Denys Peek has a book out, "One fourteenth of an elephant" I have just read it and have come to the conclusion that everybody else should read it too!
At the start of the Second World war, Denys Peek was living as a civilian in Singapore, with his brother Ron and his parents. Like most other able bodied expatriates, he signed up as a volunteer to help in Singapore's defense. When Singapore fell, in February 1942, Denys and his brother became prisoners of war, interred with tens of thousands of other British, Australian and Commonwealth men.

Transported to Siam, Denys spent the next three years living in Japanese run labor camps, forced to work on the building of the Burma-Thailand Railway.

In appalling conditions these men fought to keep both bodies and spirits alive, whilst enduring harsh and unreasonable work expectations, limited food rations, no sanitation, and the dismal prospect of never seeing their families or their countries again.

Over 20,000 men died in the construction of the railway. Many times during his three year ordeal Peek faced the prospect of joining their ranks. Miraculously, he survived, spurred on by a stubborn refusal to die, the bond he shared with his brother and his mates, and, at times, by psychic happenings that defied explanation.

In One Fourteenth of an Elephant, Peek shares his story with an intimacy and openness that stirs deep feelings in the heart of the reader. Writing in present tense, he recounts events as they happened, taking the reader with him on his daily quest for survival.

This is a book which reveals horrific suffering, events and brutality that almost defy belief - yet it is not a depressing story. Peek's own survival and the courage and humanity showed by his fellow prisoners are an incredible demonstration of just how people can triumph over the strongest adversity.

GOD HAS A BOOK OUT ALSO


I have been reading and re reading it on and off for over 60 years and long ago came to the conclusion that it is the greatest of all books. In fact it is really sixty six books mostly written by or about ordinary people often in extraordinary situations.
It amazes me just how God did it; He let the writers personalities come through and some of there opinions, some of it is poetry (not my sort of poetry), some songs, some eye witness accounts, some history, some even prophetic and of course the words and actions of Jesus Christ, the Messiah are recorded, some by eye witnesses.

John, one of Jesus' disciples, writing as an older man pens these words in conclusion,
"And there also are many other things that Jesus did, which, if they were written one by one, I suppose that even the world itself could not contain the books that would be written. John says in another place, just a chapter before these words,
"And truly Jesus did many other signs in the presence of his disciples, which are not written in this book; but these are written that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that believing you may have life in his name.

Thinking again of Denys Peek and his companions terrible deprivation and suffering, I was saddened to read about how, the God of the bible was irrelevant to him in those desperate days.
I can understand the difficulty he would feel about forgiving and unrepentant enemy, and as I understand it even God's foregiveness to guilty sinners depends on their repentance.
In my mind there are few people who could really understand what these POW's went through on the Burma Railway, I myself would have little idea.
I do believe though that one who could understand better that any other would be the suffering Christ of the bible. He went to the place of blood and spit, he suffered unjustly and was treated cruelly and shamefully.
I think that people that find themselves in Denys Peek's shoes, when it comes to understanding, forgiveness etc, could let Jesus Christ do for them the things they are unable to do for themselves.
God bless you Denys, and the thousands and thousands who are suffering all around the world even as I write, especially in the so called third world.
The battle is not over yet, it is hotting up though, and the only book I have ever read that has the answer to these things is found in God's book that he has out, and in His Son.
"Maranatha"
"Even So, Come Lord Jesus"

Cars (part three)

Two comments on the blog have prompted this addition to “cars”
What about the Camira and the HD Holden?
In 1983 my wife came home and said, “I have just been looking at a wonderful little car and it’s only done 1800 Kilometers. I asked her what sort of car was it and she replied,” It’s a bronze Camira".
Now If I was ever to buy another 4 cylinder car I had promised myself it would be a Japanese job (A Japanese kidney), but what got me was the almost as new “mileage”.
Like a lamb to the slaughter I went to the car yard, my defenses were down, it was all but new.
I said to the man, I believe it’s only done 1800 Kilometers, and he said “that’s right”
When I had made the purchase and was driving the car home, I looked at the odometer more carefully and noticed there was an extra zero on the “mileage. How could a grown man be so dumb?
Anyway, it wasn’t the end of the world and as far as Camiras go the car was OK, but not as good as the Japanese counterparts.
Two things stick in my mind about the Camira the first, when you had the heater on you could have a direct little stream of cold air blowing on your face. I thought that was a great idea and yet I have never seen it on another car.
The second thing was when I collected Benjamin, my number six son from school and said come on. We are going up to Queensland where the rest of the family are. When we got past Goodiwindi we ran into flooded roads. Not to be thwarted we went back to Goonda and continued up about 100K what is now called the adventure highway and turned right again. We were”cooking with gas” so to speak, when we ran into more serious water over the road. Some opportunists were there with special vehicles towing people through the water to the other side; they were charging $30 a pop which was just not in my equation.
A man ahead of me in a high vehicle, said, “Follow me across, and if you get into trouble I will hook on and pull you through”. I was game for that, so off we went, the water got deeper and deeper and I began to have to gun the motor to keep it going, I think it had something to do with the exhaust pipe being well submerged rather that water around the electricals. The motor gave up the ghost and I had to crawl out the window to hook onto my hero in front. I was quite surprised when we were through to find that the engine burst into life first try. I would think that all of this is firmly entrenched in Ben’s memory. When we got to our destination
I had to pull all the thick synthetic sponge like, flooring out and dry it in the hot Queensland sun.





One notable car before that was a HD Holden, The model before this was the HR, which became an enthusiast car, very popular, the HD was at least as good but had futuristic shrouds on the headlights and nobody ever likes anything on a car that is to soon for their minds. The two faults with this car, was firstly that the previous owner, a lady, said that it ran out of water once and boiled. I had reason to think that some of the top rings had cracked. The second was that the automatic was a two speed powerglide, which worked well but increased the cars thirst for the liquid gold.
The great memory of this car was that we made quite a few trips to Sydney for holidays at Uncle Murray’s place. We would leave on the eve of my holidays and drive through the night with all the boys on a mattress in the back asleep most of the way, except for Gregory, number three son, who always seemed to be awake when there were reflecting “Cats eyes” to be seen on the centre of the road. Out of the darkness would come this little voice saying “Cats Eyes, Cats Eyes, Cats Eyes”.
I remember on at least one occasion lighting a fire at the side of the road, past Goulburn
and cooking sausages for breakfast.
These were days of high adventure, not only for the boys but for us as parents also.
It’s a funny thing about Greg, he was not adverse to excessive speeds and daring as an older teenager, but as a boy, when there was scenery for me, the driver, to see on high and twisty roads, Greg would be standing in the back, right behind my ear, saying, “You just watch the road dad”.
When he was about 13 I decided it was time for him to give him a bit of a drive and he took off like a racing driver and scared the wits out of me, more so as I discovered he could barely see over the steering wheel.
As I think about memories of cars, and trips in them, thousands of memories come flooding into my mind and I feel that I could go on ad infintum, (and perhaps ad nauseum),which all goes to show something of our love affair with the “car” over the last 100 years

Despite the ad nauseum I just can’t help adding a bit of a PS
Talking of resistance to change, especially sudden change, I remember the men in Quambatook looking at a new car, this car actually had a boot that was not unlike the bonnet or hood. They stood their in disbelief. Laughing and saying, “Which way is it going to go? Ha hah ha”
And when my dad bought a new 1949 standard vanguard , (which incidentally was built like a tank) a huge farmer, Harry James I think, went over to the car and hit the roof heavily three or four time with a fist like a ham saying, “It’s just a bit of tin”.

A few pictures of cars.
Murray's pride and joy, a new Vanguard Ute. He drove a bride to a wedding in it and someone wrote "Just Married" all over it with chalk, which is abrasive, Murray was not pleased when this could still be seen after cleaning writing off.
At Lake Merran with boys, and removing the motor for a replacement of clutch and rings etc on the farm.

Cars, part two

Here is a photo of my Uncle Andy driving what is purported to have been the first car in the district, (district of Towaninnie that is) my late mother is seated in the back, she was the Bridesmaid at an early wedding.





Grandfather William Holt, who died in 1929 had a Buick and I suspect it was a 1924 model. His youngest son, Robert, was allowed to drive this car. This came as a surprise to my father David because when he asked for a loan of Grandfather William’s horse and rig, he was told that he would have to go out and get his own as he himself, (Grandfather William) had to do.




After World War 2 had ended and my brothers, Bill and Cyril had been demobilized from the Army, I had the task (it was no task to me but an adventure) of driving a 1928 Essex, Bill’s new purchase, up to his newly acquired dairy farm at Cohuna. All I clearly remember is that as I approached the dividing range, and after that the hills near Bendigo, the Essex kept boiling, with steam spurting out of the ornate radiator cap at the front of the car.

Some little time after that Cyril got married at Tatura ,and I was surprised to notice in one of his wedding photos, his Ford ex army truck is standing in the background, so I assume that he turned up for his wedding in the truck





He and Dorothy motored down to Lorne for their honeymoon, and it must have been in the 1928 Oakland that we used to drive up around Romsey. Cyril told me of this guy on a motor bike coming toward them, around one of those notorious bends so quickly and so wide that he, (cyril), had to put the Oakland right out on the cliff edge to miss him.
This was one of two strange events in Cyril’s life, because he was usually the perpetrator of such acts.
The second strange event was when Cyril was going home from work in his motor bike and side car when a drunken driver came around the corner at high speed and wiped Cyril out causing him to have a long stay in the Melbourne Hospital. The year was 1958/ 59 as I remember him being at the Billy Graham Crusade on a stick.




I also remember we were coming down “Pretty Sally” towards Wallan Wallan and Cyril wanted to see what sort of speed he could get out of it. I am not sure how fast we were going but I do remember that the windscreen was vibrating so badly that we could hardly see through it.
I had a few really good scares in that car and it always happened when Cyril was at the wheel. I remember on more that one occasion getting in the car really quickly so I could be the driver.

The last car that I will mention as being of any interest is a 1947 Dodge. My dad wanted me to get a little Standard Vanguard, but no, I wanted the Dodge, a real car with a chrome ram’s head on the front.
The only problem being that it must already have been around the clock at least once.
In an effort to get some oil pressure I spent hours underneath putting shims under all the bearings, it must have worked to a degree as I now had at least some oil pressure. Of course they don’t have oil pressure gauges on these new fangled cars but just a red light that comes on if the pressure drops or disappears.
Another thing that the new cars do not have is a crank handle, what an over sight!




Two events of some significance happened, )one just almost). Both involved our number two son Larry.
The first was the night that he was born. My wife, Peta had a 40 hour on off labour with our first son, Mark, so she said that this time she was not going to the hospital too soon and just hang around. I began to get a bit anxious and said that we had better get going, well, by this time she could not even walk out to the car.
As we approached the Ferntree Gully Hospital a steepish, twisty, unmade road Peta Sue demanded that I stop the car as the baby was coming. Never one to be indecisive, I planted my foot and the Dodge twisted up the hill like and angry snake. Within 5 minutes of our arrival Larry was protesting at his somewhat rude arrival into the world.
God must have had his hand on the little fella and today he is approaching 30 years in the ministry of Christ.
I say this because we were going to the Dandenong Market from Nar Nar Goon North, barrelling along the highway approaching Officer. There were no seat belts in those days and Larry was jumping up and down on the back seat with great exuberance, like being on a trampoline; anyway he went crooked, front wards and to the left and grabbed the door handle for support. The problem with the Dodge was that the back door opened from the front, the hinges being on the rear pillar, of course as it opened slightly the wind caught the door and he was thrown out on to the road, on the left fortunately as there were other cars following at speed. We stopped the car and ran back to him, he was crawling towards us crying, his two shoes together on the road about 20 or 30 yards from him.
He suffered a bump on the head and a broken leg!
He was three years old.

We have had several cars since those days; the cars haven’t got much character any more. It’s not unusual to drive a car for 10 years now and never even get a puncture. (who wants one ) It seems to me that when I was a boy flat tires were common place.

You know that you are getting old when you have trouble counting up how many cars you have had.

This is a photo of peta's father with his A Model Ford

A Relationship with the Car

While it is true that in my young days we were more often than not found in a horse drawn vehicle, we always had a car because of our isolation and farming activities.
My earliest memories are of a “Tin Lizzie” truck and an about 1926 Dodge sedan
My Dad had put in some magic liquid metal into the Ford truck while it was hot to rejuvenate the motor.
This worked well until one of my older brothers, Cyril, took half the weekly slaughtered sheep to our nearest neighbours, the Hargreaves, who lived only a mile away if you cut through the paddocks, anyway, the truck ran low on water and boiled and the motor was rattling worse than ever when they returned. Father David was less than impressed.
I must have been very young when my dad backed the truck out of the shed and the back tyre went over the calf of one of my legs, I remember crying and my dad getting out quite alarmed, rubbing my leg and I suspect, checking for a break. It must have given my leg a good squeeze as there were little spots of blood squeezed out through the pores of my skin. This is not an actual picture of the truck, but it was similar but not as flash. A bit of a cross between the one above and the one below. I remember my job, when it was raining, was to manually turn the windscreen wipers by turning a little handle back and forwards.



The about 1926 model Dodge picture, below, is genuine. I remember that my dad was under this car doing something or other, and my mother had told me to come inside and I had failed to respond. She appeared with the strap! I escaped her ire by getting under the car with my dad, she couldn’t quite reach me. My dad was in a confined state and was unable to take sides, fortunately.
He was in this car, making a necessary trip via a flooded route. Of course the roads were unmade. With chains on the tires these old cars would go just about anywhere. The small kids, my older brothers, were in the car with him and I believe, all asleep. He was trying to avoid the shire dam which he knew was on the edge of the road near by, but just where the edge of the road was, how could he tell? He felt the car sliding downwards and stopped, any endeavour to move made the car slide further. What to do? He got out of the car and waded over to a fence top, and removing the top barbed wire, he took the free end and tied it onto a rear wheel of the old Dodge. With the other end of the wire still attached to a post he put the car into reverse and slowly winched the car back from the slippery slope.
The barbed wire had not only wound itself around the tire, but also around the axle. He said he had a frightful job removing the barbed wire from the rear of the car, with the water still up over the running boards.
All I can say is, “These pioneering people were different”
Here is a photo of this car, my brothers Bill and Cyril in the foreground and Murray on the running board.
Through the car you will see my father in a familiar pose, hat, watch chain, soldier’s badge, and rolling a cigarette.



The next car was a 1928 model Dodge, his pride and joy for a while. My mother was coming home from Quambatook with a large bag of sugar on the back seat, and at the corner of what is now called Holt Road she took the corner too fast and slid into a huge corner post. I have heard him say the car was never the same afterwards. I remember a trip to Mildura in it with mum and dad; mum’s only brother, Cyril Ellis was dying, or had died. It was a long way and I can only remember four things about the trip, 1. sitting on the floor in the front listening to the engine sing, 2. Going through a place called Red cliffs. 3 people swimming in a public pool, lots of them, and 4. Auntie Florrie giving me a little Fox terrier.
When another car went by our place, which was not a regular occurrence, it was duly observed and considered. On one particular occasion, my dad saw this car go by and was galvanized into action. He ran to the Dodge and quickly started it up, (At this point I also was galvanized into action and also jumped in to the car) Out of our property we hurtled to catch up with this car; it took us a whole mile to do so.
I remember watching the drum type speedometer rocking back and forwards between 40 and 70 MPH.
The conclusion of this chase was not at all exciting as my dad and the man he overtook talked on the side of the road for what seemed to me to be about three hours. Groan.
As I lay in bed this morning another memory returned to me about this car, my dad was taking quite a lot of sheep into Quambatook, driving them along the road, he often had to leave the car and see them all along, and I suppose stop them from going down some little side access. He would then walk back to the car and drive it up behind the sheep then get out and repeat the performance. I don’t know how old I was, but I know that I was no where near old enough to drive. I thought to myself, He’s a long way ahead; perhaps I could start the car and bring it up for him. I had never driven anything but I had been a keen observer of how it was done, so I switched on the ignition, (though I didn’t know at the time that it was called that), pressed the starter motor button, and lo, the engine burst into life. I had some difficulty depressing the clutch due to the shortness of my legs, I selected a gear, it must have been a low one by chance, the car leaped forward with a few hops before settling into an even pace, I drove the car right up to where my father was, and right behind him, and stopped it by depressing the clutch again. He seemed more surprised than pleased, and I could not fail to notice that the next time he got out for his little ritual, he took the keys with him.
Here is a picture of a new 1928 Dodge 4 cylinders of course.



I can still remember the day when my dad rolled into the farm, up the track, right up to the garden fence, he was driving a beautiful bronze coloured car, gleaming and sleek; it was a 1935 model Hudson Terraplane, with a beautiful chrome swift on the bonnet. I only realize after all these years that the name must have meant “Land Plane”. It was no later than early 1937 because my mother was still alive and I was just 6 years of age.
I remember that my mother was still alive because she expressed her disquiet by asking, “How could you go buy a car like that ? His reply was that it was quite OK, and when he had worn that one out he would go and get a better one! Of course I mentally agreed with him wholeheartedly, it was a wonderful car, and it had a large oval speedometer screen that registered up to 120 MPH!. A 6 year old would have little idea of the complicated workings of an adult mind. I think the car cost 200 pounds (sounds a lot), and I have heard my older sister say that he spent mum’s money; (probably left to her by her father). That may have had nothing to do with the car, but as you get older, you wonder. People say life was simpler in those days; I don’t think so. However, for a few years this car became a vital part of our lives. I remember that my father went out to look for us as we were coming home from school in a horse and buggy when a severe hail storm came upon us, the hail was quite large, at least like golf balls. We had been smart enough to come home the long way, (no trees) for fear of lightning strike. He had gone looking for us on our normal route. The car has an insert of something like vinyl material in the roof, not unlike a sun roof, and the hail had gone right through it.
On another occasion we were going to Swan Hill, about 40 miles of dirt road which wound its way through mallee scrub. We were going along at about 40 MPH when one of the tie rods dropped off, the car lurched three or four times, right and left, before it could be stopped, and we did not even hit one tree.




This photo of the Terraplane was taken at Lake Merran with Rita Burgess in foreground. On one occasion, Mrs Burgess, Rita's mother in law, was in Quambatook and decided to wait in the car(The Terraplane) The Williamson's, John Williamson's ancestors also had a Terraplane, same model and colour. When they returned to their car, there was Mrs Burgess sitting in it! An embarrassing mistake!









This picture shows the roof.

As I am writing this I realize it is getting somewhat long, so I intend to continue in installments, please try to restrain yourself in the wait for the next issue!

Special Occasions

In November 2005 I have an entry about "The Mob", The Mob being our family.
There are so many special occasions, and over the years there have been so many, they begin to merge in the memory. I remember, the year was 1959, and Billy Graham had come to Melbourne for an "Evangelistic Crusade". At the time we were based in a Gippsland area at a place called Nar Nar Goon North, the Methodist church there was quite involved, we organised buses to Melbourne and worked hard at filling them with people to go and hear Billy Graham preach the Good News about Jesus Christ.
We were so busy, and I remember commenting on this busy-ness and some one relied, "When the Crusade is over things will quieten down".
I have often thought about this and then said quietly to myself, "Wrong"!
It never happened.
I would suppose there is a quiet place somewhere in an old people's home with the "Happy Valley" address. Even as I think about this I am drawn back to a conclusion I have arrived at many times, that being, "I have never seen an Old People's Home yet that I have liked!
They are probably very nice for the inmates, but for this little black duck,...... not yet!
You might be asking yourself, "What has brought all this on"? Well, just the last week or so, let me explain.
About a week ago I decided to clean out some of my junk to save the boy's later on, I started with the back shed, cleaning out the timber saved for something I can't remember, and as I applied myself to the task I kept noticing other tasks needing to be done, like fixing the side fence, pulling out a tree which was too close to the house, this took some days because there were four half days of stocktaking at a Hardware store, and four other cleaning appointments, as well as some extended jaunts to the shops. While all this was happening, the weekend was sneaking up on me.
Well, let me say we had a great weekend, it went like this:-
Saturday Morning we had a Missionary Breakfast. It was not the old fashioned type where the missionary was on the menu, but a 2006 style Missionary Breakfast.
Our Number one son, Mark was the speaker, and though I could be slightly biased, he was wonderful, and the breakfast of eggs and bacon were pretty good also.
We went into the Dandenong Capital Centre afterwards for a while.
At 2PM there was a special occasion in Little Lonsdale Street Melbourne.
Our number 8 granddaughter was celebrating her 11th birthday, here is a picture of the cake, I assume it was made by her dad


Mark and Val arrived, along with their two girls, they had travelled from their new address in South Melbourne by tram. Ben and Zoe came by car and Ali's friend Bridget was also there. Here are a few photos



















Now Sunday was a special day, May 14, was Mother's Day.
At about 10.30am Ben picked us up in a Ford Territory, he dialled in or destination and along the way we were directed by this voice saying, you now take a left turn followed by a right turn and so on accompanied by a screen showing our position progress , distance still to travel and the time it would take us. I was waiting for the voice to say, "I am lost, you are on tour own", but no, we arrived at the Malvern Station exactly on time, 11am, and there were Simon, Brenda and their two children emerging from the shelter of the station as it had begun to sprinkle with rain.
We made our way down Glenferrie Road to the first place serving food that was not full of people, it was a "Brown's Bakery ". We enjoyed the good company and good food for about an hour before making our way back to our transport by the Malvern Station.
The Territory guided us safely back to Rowville some time after mid day.
Another record of our high life Style follows.



It was not long before it was time to head off to a place called Skye, where we were to meet Paul and Cindy for afternoon tea at the Sandhurst Golf Club House.
I must say it was something of a let down to get in our little Toyota Corolla and figure out our own way in the rain.
After our stint at the club house, Paul and Cindy showed us the town house on the complex that they are interested in.
Here we are in the club house




I will set myself a quiz, here goes

Would I rather be busy or bored?
Would I rather be busy or in jail?
Would I rather be busy or in Happy Valley Home?
Would I rather be busy or in hospital?

I've completed the quiz in no time and busy wins hands down

The Weekend Report

On the last Saturday in April I hitched the trailer on the little Toyota Corolla and headed off to Warragul, to my number four son's place accompanied by my wife of 52 years, Peta Sue.
The Facia board at the front corner of the house was rotted out and the Starlings or Indian Miners had dragged in loads of grass for nesting.
One of the big problems in Australia is flora and fauna that have been brought here by people who should have known better. The list is huge but to name a few of the fauna, there are the Rabbits, foxes, cane toads, starling and Indian, Miners, (and cats!), BIG MISTAKE! The camels, horses, cows , sheep and dogs, I would exclude from my diatribe.
Paul, (number 4 son) was loathe to remove the guttering, and somehow (how I don't know) work behind it. My great wisdom acquired over many years mostly through many mistakes, prevailed, the guttering was removed, the old facia cut out and the new inserted; the guttering was replaced with much muttering,(guttering and muttering, that's good), the facia painted blue and behold, we have the result.


Flushed with our success, we decided to press on and replace the fibre glass on the pergola, (right edge of photo). This was achieved with the expenditure of much more energy and muttering that we expected, but the result was pretty good if I do say so myself.
That evening Paul rang a Restaurant in Drouin (Warragul and Drouin are sort of twin towns) This Restaurant was called something like The Durante, they said we could not come until 7:30.
My first three choices for a main meal were met with a nice smile from the waitress as she said, I'm sorry, we've just run out of that, so I settled for some sort of curried chicken which sounded something like Rumbatum. It was really very nice, but came back to haunt me in the small hours of the morning.
I notice Paul's bill was over $200 for the four of us and left me wondering as I always do on an eating out occasion, "how many groceries could I buy for that much money"? (Probably because I grew up in a previous generation)!


Sunday morning, and it was raining steadily, I am not sure whether I was sad or glad,for a few reasons, 1. We always need rain in Australia, 2. There were some steps to be replaced, 3.My body was protesting vehemently at all but the simplest movements.
So, we packed up the trailer with some wood that Paul no longer needed and headed for home intending to drop in at the Berwick Vineyard (Church) on the way home. The trailer was swaying at anything more that 80 K/Hour, It was wet, so I just stopped on the freeway and continued back to our happy home in Rowville








It's now Monday, and it's the first of May.
I got out of bed at 5am, went and cleaned for 2 hours for Ron Hedge and went on from there to clean for 1 1/2 hours at Hudson timber. By this time I was having trouble with my tail, for it was dragging on the ground. It's not easy Vacuuming and mopping with your tail under your left arm!
They say that you know that you are getting old if......
The one I like most is, You know that you are getting old if you don't care where your wife goes as long as you don't have to go with her!