Chapter 3

Although I cannot now place the years exactly, Dad was transferred from Southport to Sydney around 1931 and we took up residence at “Tele-Kebir” in Raglan St., Mosman – a two-storey building consisting of two flats. The owner, Mr. Brett, lived in the top one. He was an ardent follower of some radical political party (Douglas Social Credit) and had erected a large notice proclaiming the virtues of the party at the front fence. The street wound down to Balmoral Beach where we frequently swam. Any vacant land thereabouts was covered in wild, prickly lantana, so the opportunity to forage in the bush was limited. Mostly we rode up and down on scooters, or played ball games. Next door lived the Jaffreys with daughter Joan about my age, and older sisters who at this time were very much into the pop music of the day. “Shuffle off to Buffalo” was one tune I remember emanating from their gramophone. In those days the records were 78’s. They were of black colour, hard and fragile, and played for about 3.5 minutes. To the back of the flats was steeply sloping ground covered in lantana except for a concrete path parallel to the back fences. Years later a road was built through this area. In the dense undergrowth that existed then we foraged as best we could. Our best treasure was a nulla-nulla of wood that we imagined was cast off from ages ago by an aboriginal. However, it could just as easily have been a discard from some traveller living nearby. The trams wound down from near our house to the beach from which one could see on a nearby hill a temple or lookout that was well known in Sydney. Some religious group erected it to provide a good site to view our Lord’s Second Coming.

A little island off the beach was still there years later when I showed Marcia the old place. Marcia made a small sketch from the island of the Balmoral Beach.

Both Dick and I attended Mosman Public School. It was somewhere along Military Road to the north of Noake’s butcher chop. When shopping up at these shops, I was always fascinated in the Dutch delicatessen when Mum ordered a pound of butter. The girls were dressed in traditional clothing and they would grasp two wooden paddles along the face of which there were lines of grooves. They would delve into a 56-pound butter box, and retrieve a lump of butter. Rolling it around with the grooved paddles to a ball they would place it on paper on the scales. Any discrepancy in weight was adjusted and then the butter was wrapped and delivered. How times have changed.

Dad went to work in the city of Sydney by tram and ferry. Looking back I envied him this form of transport. To start the working day looking at the beautiful panorama of this harbour would rank with the best soothing medicine available.

The Taronga Park zoo was not too far from where we lived and we enjoyed many an outing there. At the time it was noted for being an enlightened zoo wherein animals were given space to roam. This concept, far removed from the ugly barred cages that usually contained them was often achieved by having moats with deep sides to separate the viewers from the animals. Of course it depended on the ability of the animals to escape. Monkeys, for example, still had to be in mesh cages.
I remember that the bears were in fact kept in an enclosure that was deep down from the viewing area, with very high sides. One day when I was there, a Scout troop and some Wolf cubs (young scouts) were watching. One cub dropped his cub cap into the bear pit. Two of the keepers made a brave rescue of the cap. One held the bears at bay while the other retrieved the cap, amid loud cheers.

One of my pals, a classmate at Mosman Public, was Linton Kloster. We often played together after school and at weekends. Years later, perhaps 13 years, I was on a RAAF parade ground at Scarborough after completing a “commando course” just prior to joining a squadron in the Pacific Islands, when a large batch of aircrew trainees returning from Canada were on parade. Among these fellows I recognised two or three
With whom I had trained at the Initial Training School at Victor Harbour. They had been sent to Canada for training, and were returned to Australia as the war in Europe was predicted to end quite soon, based on the success of the invasion of Europe by Allied forces. When roll call came, I heard the name Kloster. Noting who replied, I watched him carefully until the parade was dismissed. Then I approached him and behold it was my erstwhile companion from Mosman. We had a lot to catch up on but time was short. Nevertheless it was a pleasant experience.

Some time in 1933 we returned to Southport, taking up residence this time in the manager’s house in Bauer Street as befitted Dad’s new status. I would have resumed school at the Southport State School with the Headmaster, Mr. Hibberd.

In the playground as we grew a little older, we played marbles. With some extraordinary sense of season, a percentage of boys would suddenly turn up with pockets full of marbles and all and sundry would embark on the marbles season. There were several variations, little ring and big ring and seven holes, but the rules were hard to understand exactly as they seemed to vary with the ideas of the dominant boy. The aim of some was to smash as many marbles, especially the “tors” (probably spelled “taws”) or firing marbles, as could be accomplished at each turn. While the “neo-Nazis” amongst the boys revelled in this sport, other souls, the collector types, went around swapping, say, 4 “glassies”(glass marbles usually with a pattern inside) for one agate and so on, until the little string bags were full to overflowing. Steel ball bearings were popular because they were virtually indestructible, and yet inflicted much damage on the glassies. Boys whose fathers worked in the motor trade had ready access to these ball bearings.

As quickly as it came, this season would go and some other game would replace it. One of these was saving and exchanging cards given away free with some purchases. These usually had pictures of the test cricketers or other sporting heroes. The aim was to gather a complete set of the cards. Another period in the year was given over to spinning tops, but not just to see them spin. Again the “forceful’ types used their tops to smash other tops being spun. Being made of wood, and having a metal pin at the base, on which the top spun, made it a potent weapon when brought down with force on another wooden top.

After school activities were usually with neighbourhood children, as there was some emphasis on going home as soon as school was out, probably to avoid anxiety on the part of the parents. However, once having established ones presence at home it was not uncommon to go for a swim in the Nerang River, which for me was only a short walk away. When in the upper grades, there was occasionally cricket available in the recreation ground next to the school. Another season that occurred was the yo-yo season. Possibly it was arranged by shrewd promoters rather than by the mysterious ways of children. Certainly most children tried to buy a new one, and there was always some not so subtle advertisement or visiting demonstrator to show how to do it and the virtues of this or that new yo-yo. Suddenly all and sundry were flicking yo-yos up and down, stopping to unravel twisted strings or to rub a painful knuckle that had been hit hard by a yo-yo that had climbed up the string too swiftly, or otherwise gone berserk. “Around the world” and “walking the dog “ were some of the elementary tricks that were attempted. Usually some American champion would demonstrate the toy at the school or at Saturday theatres. This was designed of course to sell more yo-yos. Remember there was no television in those days. The season petered out as quickly as it came, probably when the market slowed or was saturated.

From time to time we would have a visit from a travelling showman. These visits would take the form of a conjuring show, or some sort of play presented with the one person taking several parts or with one or two locals who had been primed with a line or two and a cue to notify him of his turn. This was depression time and these itinerants had hit on this method of getting a few pennies the hard way, usually travelling from one town to another in a horse drawn waggon. Props had often seen better days, especially clothing and the dolls like Punch and Judy whose energetic movements led to much wear and tear.

The teachers and subjects taught do not stand out in memory from these years. There was an Eric Freer whose parents ran one of the few cafes at the embryonic Surfers Paradise, and now long since gone. He was the epitome of the muscular sun bronzed Aussie of the time, his upper arm being of a circumference that was barely contained by his shirtsleeve. Then there was Porky Whelan (6th Grade) and later Lawrence Grulke of 7th Grade, the scholarship year. Schoolwork was enjoyable for me and therefore not too much trouble, and I usually managed to come in the first three or so in the exams. I had the advantage of having caring and quite well read parents so the home environment was conducive to school work, and there was help when I became stuck. The main rivals in exams were two girls, Jill Bell and Phyllis Babbidge. Jill was the daughter of Clarrie Bell who was the TSS gym and German master. Another teacher played cricket with us after school on the concrete pitch at the Recreation Ground at Southport. He bowled well and gave us good practice. The standard affordable ball was made of compressed cork painted red and called a “compo” or composition ball. It bounced well and was easier to hit than a leather ball having greater elasticity. This was vividly demonstrated on one occasion when a well hit ball hit squarely on the forehead of Seymour Brown. Immediately after the impact, to the amazement of spectators it shot off into the air at redoubled speed. Unkindly those watching double over laughing at this phenomenon with no thought for the unfortunate victim. He fortunately was of sturdy stock and great recuperative powers. Later as a pilot in the European war he lost his life.

Activities for youth in Southport in the early 1930’s were the usual for a seaside resort in depression time. That is, you made your own fun with what was available. There were few toys for most children, and items now taken for granted were not in evidence. For example, there were no transistor radios, let alone Walkmans. People walked or cycled everywhere. A few people had old motor bikes and fewer had cars. Horses had not gone out of fashion but there were not so many right in Southport. In the home, rainwater was collected in tanks from the roof gutters. Each house had one or two-1000-gallon circular tanks, made of corrugated iron. Some towns had “mains” water i.e. a system of main pipes leading from a reservoir through all the streets and smaller pipes leading from the main to each house. This of course is the way it is today around most of the country. One change that has occurred is that the use of galvanised iron pipes has given way to pipes of plastic.

Water heaters were not common in these days. Those that were installed were usually “chip heaters”. The cold water was led in a thin copper pipe around the inside of a narrow circular tank. At the base of the tank a gas burner or a small wood fire was set to supply the heat. The fumes were led away through the ceiling in a flue. The climate in Southport was such that hot water was not needed except in the depth of winter. At least that was how many were placed because of the cost. At the boarding school TSS the showers were cold only.
Few houses had telephones in the early thirties. The manager of the Cable Company had the number 60 but it had been installed for some time. Notices on houses worded TO LET and on land FOR SALE seemed to stay on the one site from year to year, suggesting that there was no great demand for land or houses to rent. Land could be bought for 60 pounds a block, but there would have been few in the Depression Years who had that much available.

Cheap toy cars and trucks pressed out of tin plate in Japan were common but limited in range, and in useful life. Spinning tops, water pistols, potato guns, diabolo, yo-yos, marbles, boats, balls and soldiers made of lead were available in the shops quite cheaply, but many households were on subsistence incomes and could only buy toys infrequently.

New cars in 1934 whether a Ford or a Chevrolet cost about 400 pounds, a price that exceeded all but the highest yearly incomes. There were other cars on sale, mostly American, and most were even dearer.


With all the effects of the depression around what did the children do in leisure time? They played running and catching games, cowboys and Indians, skipping, football and cricket, and of course went swimming, surfing and fishing. One could join the Scouting movement and this was very popular in those days. It was a very practical as well as healthy, social pastime. For teenage boys, joining the Surf Lifesavers was the most fun. There was good training and the task was seen to be worthwhile and it bestowed elevated status on those who became members. Lifelong friendships were made in the Lifesaving fraternity.

As we grew up sport became important. From about age 11 or 12, I played tennis at Queen’s Park, at Wychcourt, or on the Congregational court that was at the western end of the Recreational ground (the Reck as it was known). At first I had a loosely strung boy’s racquet made in Japan, but as soon my parents could they gave me a “proper” Spalding Leader racquet. I used this for many years before graduating to the ultimate, adult racquet. I was self taught (many might say that that was obvious), as were most of us in those days. Most days I practised against brick walls at home in Bauer St. however I did get a few tips from adults from time to time. Lawrence Grulke, my teacher in the scholarship class in 1938 who seemed to be a rather craggy faced old adult, was probably in his mid-twenties at the time. He liked to have a hit in the afternoon after school, so we often hit together. He showed me how to train yourself to serve the ball wherever you wanted. Later, another teacher. Monsieur Robin, taught me topspin serving.

Mr. Grulke and his wife took some pleasure in having me visit at weekends, and this afforded me pleasure too. I was very keen on my schoolwork and he was encouraging especially in the use of words. He had a collection of postage stamps, mostly from Austria, of which he was very proud. Later I realised that his forbears probably were from Austria. I kept up this practice of visiting them for some time even after leaving primary school and attending TSS. His wife died young and he left the teaching service to be Secretary of the Queensland Teacher’s Union. I met him again in 1949 through James O’Sullivan of the Brisbane printing firm Jackson and O’Sullivan. James boarded at the same establishment as I did. He asked me to go out with him and a friend to read poetry. I was somewhat startled to find that the friend was Grulke. It was no surprise that they might share a love of poetry, but the behaviour of the two bachelors gave me food for thought. They talked in riddles, laughed a lot together, ignored me, and altogether made me wonder why I had even been asked. Had they misinterpreted my signals? What was the nature of their relationship that left me high and dry? I never did get any more clues to their behaviour, which remains a mystery.

The beach at Southport was broad and from time to time a light aircraft would land there. On one occasion Don Andrews and I cycled over to look at one parked off the Main beach. Don showed great interest, managing to get the door open and sit in. In its way this was symbolic because not many years later he was the Wing Commander in charge of three Spitfire squadrons (a Wing) in UK around 1943-44.

Another older Chapter 3 reads:

We were moved back to Southport after a year or two in Sydney and lived in another Cable house in Lenneberg street, probably for at least for two years. During this time, on April 7, 1930 (or 1931), I started school at the Southport State School in Scarborough St. Some of the equipment used in those days may be of interest. The infant's school had large charts (about 1200mm x 900mm) on easels. On these in large lettering and with appropriate pictures were such words as "The cat sat on the mat and other exciting events. A similar cluster of posters depicting biblical scenes was used by Reverend Whitehouse during his weekly visit to give "ligious struction". When one scene had been discussed fully we awaited eagerly the next ritual. With a majestic flourish he would roll the old sheet over the top behind the others, revealing the next colourful scene.
This was the era of slates!! Rectangular slabs of slate, held in a 1" wooden frame were standard for writing. Characters were inscribed using a slate pencil probably also made of slate. Writing in this way was very economical, but produced the most ghastly grinding squeaks, which some children seemed to consider an achievement, and something to repeat as often as possible. When multiplied by the 30 or so slate pencils in action, this became the background noise pollution of the time. Some slates had horizontal lines scored across them to guide the pupil in writing the correct size capital letters and small letters. Those children raised in hygienic households carried a small wet rubber sponge in a tin and this was used to erase the written material hence I suppose "keeping the slate clean". The less hygienically disposed children applied saliva to the slate and wiped the letters off on any convenient piece of cloth. a shirt sleeve or tail or simply with the hand. The smell of stale saliva permeated the rooms and was one of the smells of childhood that was unforgettable. As one became older, slates were replaced by pads and pencils, and later still pen and ink. Ink was supplied by the school and from time to time the inkwells in the desks needed to be refilled. Ink monitors were rostered, and had to collect the wells, remove the screwed up paper and other debris that found its way into the open hold, then wash the wells out with water and refill them with ink made up freshly by dissolving ink powder in water. The mess that this whole operation made was visible on ones hands for days despite hard scrubbing. Another chore was the sharpening of the slate pencils by rubbing them to a point on the concrete floor downstairs at the school (at this school all the classrooms were raised up from ground level).
With the introduction of ink we started writing in "copy books". These were guides that showed examples of excellent or "copperplate" writing at the top of the page and a series of vacant lines on which the pupil had to try to emulate the example above. The wording that appeared at the top of the page was usually a proverb so that we were introduced to these old saws early in life.
At the moment nothing else springs to mind about these very early days. The classes were coeducational, although at playtime usually boys played games with boys and girls with girls, and the games were different. Girls usually skipped and played beam ball, while boys chased one another or wrestled or played "red rover".
As one grew older, marbles was the game often played. With some extraordinary sense of season, a percentage of boys would suddenly one week turn up with pockets full of marbles and all and sundry would embark on marbles season. There were several variations, little ring and big ring, and seven holes, but the rules seemed to vary with the ideas of the dominant boy. The aim of some was to smash as many marbles, especially the "tors" (probably spelled "taws")or firing marbles, as could be accomplished in one turn.
While the neo-Nazis amongst them revelled in this sport, other souls, the collector types, went around swapping 4 glassies for one agate and so on, until the little string bags were full to overflowing. Steel ball bearings were popular because they were virtually indestructible and yet inflicted much damage on the glassies. Those whose fathers worked in the motor trade had ready access to these ball-bearings.
As quickly as it came, this season would go and some other game would replace it. One of these was saving cards given away free with some purchase, and these usually had pictures of the test cricketers or other sporting heroes. Another period in the year was given over to spinning tops, but not just to see them spin. Again the “forceful” types used their tops to smash other tops being spun. Being made of wood, and having a metal pin at the base on which the top spun, made it a potent weapon when brought down with force on another wooden top.
After school activities were usually with neighbourhood children, as there was some emphasis on going home as soon as school was out, probably to save anxiety on the part of the parents. However, once having established ones presence at home it was not uncommon to go for a swim in the Nerang River which for me was only a short walk away. When in the upper grades, there was occasionally cricket available in the recreation ground next to the school.
Another season that occurred, possibly arranged by shrewd promoters rather than by the mysterious ways of the children, was the yo-yo season. Suddenly all and sundry were flicking yo-yos up and down, stopping to unravel twisted strings or to rub a painful knuckle that had sustained a blow from a yo-yo that had gone berserk.
"Around the world" or "walking the dog" were some of the elementary tricks that were attempted. Usually the school would be visited by some American champion who would demonstrate the tricks and run some competitions which of course increased the sales of the toy. Again the season petered out as quickly as it had come, probably when the market had become saturated.
From time to time we would have a visit from a travelling showman. These may take the form of conjuring tricks, or some sort of play presented with the principal playing several roles with perhaps one or two locals who had been primed with a line or two and a cue to notify him of his turn. This was depression time and these itinerants had hit on this method of getting a few pennies the hard way, usually travelling from one town to another in a horse drawn covered waggon. Props had often seen better days, especially clothing and the dolls like Punch and Judy whose energetic movements led to much wear and tear.
The teachers and subjects taught do not stand out in memory from these years. There was an Eric Freer whose parents ran one of the few cafes at the embryonic Surfers Paradise, now long since gone. He was the epitome of the muscular sun bronzed Aussie of the time, his upper arm being of a circumference that was barely contained by his shirt sleeve. Then there was Porky Whelan (6th Grade) and later Lawrence Grulke of 7th Grade, the scholarship year, but more of him in the appropriate period (1938-age 13). School work was enjoyable for me and therefore not too much trouble, and I usually managed to come in the first three or so in the exams. I had the advantage of having caring and quite well read parents so the home environment was conducive to school work, and there was help available when I got stuck.