Army Brats in the mid 80's

Not long after I was born my good hearted mother picked up a hitchhiker one night, I think on the way back through Bandiana (as was normal practise in the early 80's), and before she knew it the course of our lives was changed forever.  What started out as a ride across town, turned into a romance with a young soldier, big move interstate to QLD, marriage, 4 more kids and one very big adventure for the two of us.

My 'parents' were married in Townsville in 1983 amongst a host of new and enthusiastic friends, with my little brother well on the way and me cruising around stuffing my fists and face with beetroot and (albeit prematurely) wedding cake.

I don't remember a lot of my life as a youngster from zero until about 35 years old, not sure what that says about my childhood.  Just kidding, (I acknowledge any memories lost after 17 were probably due to weak buffalo style alcohol enduced brain cell shredding;) but I digress.  What I am trying to say is that the traumatic years of my first two brothers entering the world and me having to share the limelight with them haven't entrenched themselves into my memory cortex.  Ned was born 3 years after me, followed by Sam, 5 years and it's when Sam was young that I start to have some recall about my life as a kid.

I don't mean any disrespect or lack of love to Ned and Sam; they've turned out to be pretty cool dudes, but for some strange reason there's barely a handful of memories that resonate during their baby years.  What I do know about those times was that we moved a bit, from Townsville to Melbourne, then Brisbane.  Cake fights, card nights and the Kingswood were big parts of our world; and so were mum and dad's many army friends and their families.

Starting school at Queen of Apostles in Stafford, Brisbane in 1986, there's a little bit of school memory that remains such as playtime in the 'forest' that was the school yard; singing in music, teachers stuffing up my name, a bullying incident with an asthmatic girl called Heather who for some reason annoyed me and one hell of a stack over the lunch basket near the tuckshop where I'm certain I broke my nose.

But most of the real memories from those times come from myself and my brothers being absolute dickheads in the back yard as true blue dinky die Aussie army brats.  Singing at the top of our lungs on the back swing set, fighting like all bugger, having mum scream at us, kick (or lock) us out side, give us the necessary hidings, chuck us a plate of cheese sandwiches and never ever miss a day where we had to 'lay a little bit of liplock on her' before we went to bed.

Dad was away a lot on 'Exercise' with the Army, so his cameo's are usually that kind of return from holiday buzz where he would be flavour of the month and stack all his parenting into a couple of days making disastrous billy carts, taking us on adventures, having tickle fights and then of course, giving us the necessary discipline required.

We had an unreal dog called Wombat that was a border collie / black labrador and he was the best.  He was a good size so he gave amazing hugs and he literally was never far from us in the yard or wandering the streets.  I remember when he chased a car down the street thinking it was Dad, and he got hit, he skun all the fur off his bum and had to wear a bucket on his head til it healed.  Poor ol' bucket head; he really felt the ridicule we gave him.  The noble warrior that was Wombat did sulk a fair bit for those few weeks.

A couple of other significant occasions that call to mind in those mid 1980's was one night when my brother Ned, 3; helped Sam in his little walker 'escape' the house.  (His motive is still under question here).  Anyways, the outcome was Sam, an infant, in his walker, crashing down the 13 front stairs, on a wet and cold night, when mum had three kids under 6 years old and was alone with dad away for work.  I particularly remember being bundled up and sitting outside what I now know as a locum Doctor's surgery in the rain with Sam a bit battered and bruised and mum (only 25 years old) fairly concerned her new infant was brain damaged.  Pretty heavy night.  Great news, Sam was all good and it wouldn't be the last time he would push the boundaries of mortality through clumsy accidents often at the assistance of his brothers.

There was this other strange period of time about 1986 where us kids and mum lived in a hotel where the big Koala was. We were in Brisbane and the hotel was at Flockton Village.  Dad had come back from a tour and things went all weird at home.  Us kids went from fish fingers and veges at the table to nuggets and chips and a small hotel room where they had a kids area with a ball pit.  We stayed there for ages and lucky for us our nanna Nancy who I adore lived on the Gold Coast so we got to see her loads.

Unbeknown to me what was actually happening is my step-dad had some indiscretions and that my parents had in fact separated for that time.  It's interesting that despite that time being 30 years ago and me being 6 years old at the time, I still have a physical reaction to that insecure and unstable feeling of the family structure being shaken up when I recall those memories.  It bewilders me to consider my mum and dad being 26 years old, with three children, not a lot of money and not the best relationship and I marvel at how mum in particular held it together, with dad being a cheater.  When I was 26 years old I could barely manage to get myself to work, training and the bar; let alone keep a bunch of annoying small humans alive.

We moved home after some time and things looked like they'd be getting back to normal.  My last distinct memory of that time, before the next big adventure began was myself and Ned, standing at the front windows of our house in Stafford Heights.  We were nose against the glass, hands on window sobbing as we saw mum go away in a car somewhere.  Nan was looking after us and we didn't understand where mum was going.  It was right out of a family movie where the ending turns out to be really great; but in that precious moment, the heart break and sadness I was feeling must have been minute compared to that of my mum and grandmother as they looked upon these two pathetic hysterical kids whose sixth senses could detect burden.  In actual truth we would have no idea of the enormity of that moment for another 25 years.