RIP Rev Peter Holloway

Family, friends and comrades of the 39th battalion said goodbye to Rev Peter Holloway today at St Paul's Church in Westmeadows.  He was then laid to rest in Bulla.  RIP Peter.  

Peter was a fellow member of the 39th Battalion.  He officiated at Jim Cowey's funeral in 1968.

The KTF website wrote: 

"Peter was raised on a dairy farm in Bairnsdale Victoria, schooled at Ivanhoe Anglican Grammar School and initially became a bank officer in 1937. He began studying for holy orders shortly afterward. When World War II broke out, he sought and received permission from his Bishop to enlist. He volunteered for the famous militia unit, the 39th Australian Infantry Battalion, not as a padre but as a Digger."

This is a photo of Peter with my kids at the 70th Kokoda Day commemorations at The Shrine last year. Inset is Peter during WW2, a young man full of life and love.  Peter quietly celebrated his 21st birthday while preparing biscuit bombers to support Australia's fight against the Japanese on the Kokoda Track.  He was one of the older young blokes (some were 18 and 19), but they were all young when you compared them to Jim Cowey who was 52 at the time.  Peter fought with the 39th Battalion in the bitter beachhead battles of Buna, Gona and Sanananda, in the final stages of the campaign.  By that stage Jim was back home in Australia, debilitated from his efforts spent on the Kokoda Track.

After the war Peter ministered religion as an Anglican priest for 64 years.  It was in his capacity as Vicar of the Chelsea parish in Melbourne, the parish where Jim's son David Cowey worshipped, that Peter was asked to give Jim Cowey his "send off" at the Springvale Crematorium.

Peter returned to Kokoda twice in the latter years of his life. During his last time at Ower's Corner in 2009, he was approached by a trekker who had just completed the arduous pilgrimage over the Owen Stanley Range. She recognised him as a Digger of the Papuan campaign, hugged him, thanked him, and emotionally proclaimed "I did this for you!".
 

Peter replied, 

We did it for you.

Peter's generation, and the one before, were something else!   That story took my breath away, the way Peter so elegantly surmised the enormous sacrifice our countrymen made for us in one of the most significant battles for Australia.  It brought tears to my eyes.
 

It was lovely to have known Rev Peter Holloway and I will miss his editorials in the 39th Battalion Association publication "The Good Guts".  I will miss his loving, thoughtful remarks at Kokoda Day and the way he led the prayers and the spirituality of the Association.  Rev Peter Holloway was demonstratively passionate as he actively commemorated his comrades and fought to ensure their sacrifice would not be forgotten, especially those who never came home.  Lest we forget.

The official opening of the Kokoda Memorial Terrace

"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times..."

That famous Dickens phrase seems to sum up my experience on the day of the unveiling of the Kokoda Memorial Terrace.  Perhaps I'm slightly overreacting, yet it truly was a day of ups and downs, of illness, death, of remembrance and gratitude, of support and criticism.  However, with benefit of hindsight, my experience of that day was largely positive and certainly a proud moment for me.

The Kokoda Memorial Terrace started as a project idea fuelled by the passion of two 39th battalion veterans: John Akhurst and Alan Moore (aka Kanga).  These two men amazed me and many others with their voracity and tireless efforts to lobby for and plan the upgrade of the Kokoda Memorial/1000 Steps area in Ferntree Gully.  The pair were increasingly frustrated that the historical signage along the 1000 Steps was being passed by due to the popularity of the walk being used for fitness training.  Those who were pounding up and down the steps to improve their health didn't have time to stop and take in the history along the way, and those who did were nearly trampled over and some berated by the hoards of aspiring athletes for getting in their way.  So plans were drawn up for a terrace at the foot of the 1000 Steps.  It was to be a place with a dual purpose: education and remembrance.  Consideration of those who did not come home was at the forefront of the design.  The ultimate concept of the Kokoda Memorial Terrace was to provide a place where school children and the general public could go and be educated about the Papuan campaign, Kokoda, the military units involved and the many personalities that made history 70 years ago.  Yet it would also provide a quiet, beautiful and moving space where loved ones, veterans and of course the public, could reflect upon and remember the fallen who were sacrificed for Australia's democracy.  John and Kanga's commitment and drive would see (in their words) "Stage 1" of the project to fruition in August 2012.

I was asked to contribute to the memorial by the 39th Australian Infantry Battalion Association, of which I am a member due to my great grandfather being a veteran of the unit.  I can remember when Geoff Pledge contacted me in 2011 with that request, how overjoyed and excited I was to be involved in such an important project.  I was very happy that I had the opportunity to highlight my great grandfather's involvement in the story of the 39th at Kokoda.  Also, I thought of how meaningful it was that this monument would be located on Jim's turf, The Dandenong Ranges, where he grew up and honed some of the skills he would rely upon in his life as a soldier.

My contribution included writing a short piece on my great Grandfather, which would then be edited to fit in with tone of the whole monument, as it would be made up of submissions from many different sources.

So the day came for my family and I to head down to Ferntree Gully to see the the Kokoda Memorial Terrace officially opened.  The day before Mike, the kids and I travelled down to Belgrave, rode Puffing Billy and then met up with my parents in Melbourne's far eastern suburbs for dinner and to stay the night.  That day I felt a little bit under the weather, having headaches was sniffly and generally felt not quite up to par.  We had a fun day however, and I thoroughly enjoyed travelling through the country of towering Mountain Ash trees and the beautiful ferny undergrowth that was home to Jim and his family, including my grandmother.  It truly is a beautiful place and one that I feel a connection to, perhaps because I've written so much about it, and because that is where part of my heritage is rooted.

Fast forward to the night before the opening, when I should have been soundly sleeping.  I awoke at some ungodly hour with searing pain in my face and even behind my eye.  It was hellish.  I quickly found out that paracetamol would do me no good, which was a terrible realisation as I had nothing stronger to numb the pain.  I was dosing myself every couple of hours and it had little to no effect.  I could not sleep.  I felt I needed to rip the skin off my face and tear out my eye, the pain was so unbearable.  I was getting frantic and desperate.  I was *this close* to getting Mike to take me to hospital.  The only thing that stopped me was that I didn't want to miss the opening!  I would be utterly disappointed.  I probably made myself worse with thoughts such as "How can I get through the day tomorrow?".  In a last ditch effort, I decided to have a very hot shower and direct the water on my face to try to relieve the agony I was in.  What else could I do?  It seemed to help a little, but I couldn't stay in the shower all day.  I just had to put mind over matter and somehow endure the terrible discomfort.  As the water washed over me, I steeled my resolve and got my head in order.  I tried to pep myself up.  A soliloquy of "It's only a few hours and then you can fall in a heap" and "Think of the Diggers, they went through worse than this" was on continuous play in my mind.  I dressed and also attempted to mask my exhaustion with layers of makeup that did little to hide the evidence.  I put on my "game face", and then it was time to go. 


We arrived at the Dandenong Ranges National Park.  The new Kokoda Memorial Terrace instantly impressed me.  What I saw was a raised area at the south end crowned with four thin pillars reaching up to the sky,  impersonating the dead-straight soaring forest immediately around it.  The four pillars mirror the ones actually on the Kokoda Track at Isurava, each inscribed with one word: Courage, Endurance, Mateship and Sacrifice.  Steps in the shape of an amphitheatre lead up to 11 panels of information, images, maps, and profiles of some of the men who fought.  They all formed a sweeping curve leading to the start of the 1000 Steps Walk.

I quickly walked through to the new terrace, drawn to the panel my great grandfather was featured on.  This is what I saw:

There it was!  Jim Cowey's story, flanked by the stories of 39th battalion legends Ralph Honner, Sam Templeton and JD McKay.  Pretty impressive company.  I thought the new terrace was fantastic.  The black glass and framework was modern and sleek yet somehow it still fit in seamlessly with the natural surroundings - the information panels could have been abstract shadows under the tall timber of the National Park.  As you can see from the above pictures, they also reflected the surroundings which gave the panels an almost transparent quality when you stood up close.  The space quietly imposed itself and I was so happy it did not seem at all out of place in the National Park.

Soon after, it was time for the opening ceremony to begin.  7 grandchildren, 2 great grandchildren and 2 great great grandchildren (my kids) of Jim Cowey MC were able to make it to the official unveiling.  Very significantly, the moving service was held of the 70th anniversary of the Battle of Isurava.  The stand out was a speech made by Alan "Kanga" Moore, completely off the cuff.  He is an excellent speaker and tells an animated story you cannot help be involved in.  Veterans and family of veterans unveiled the pillars and the Terrace was officially opened.  In that moment I was particularly proud to have Jim Cowey recognised so close to where he grew up at The Patch, just 10km east of the memorial.  I emphasise east, as unfortunately on the memorial it was recorded as south.  A small mistake perhaps, but I felt disappointed the error was made as I had not contributed that in my submission (I wrote "He grew up 10kms from this memorial").

Not long after the ceremony, Jim's descendants gathered around "his" panel to catch up.  If I'm truthful, it was a strange and in some cases strained catch up, but I guess the discomfort I was in may have skewed my perception of the time.  There was certainly something on the minds of some of the group, as there was a lot of quiet talking and even a few tears that my immediate family and I had no clue of what was happening, but we were aware of nonetheless.  We found out much later that Jim's daughter (in my previous post) had sadly passed away that morning before the unveiling, after a long illness.  It was strange that no one told us then.  It was also a bit unusual that not one family member came to speak to me and say, "The panel looks good".  I was not looking for congratulations, but it would have been nice to talk about what we were all there for!  I certainly did not expect someone to have a go at me.  One of the family present came up to me and denounced,
"You've got it wrong, he wasn't born in Brunswick, he was born in Ballarat".  
"Hello to you too!", I thought sarcastically.
At this stage of the morning I was getting quite agitated, needing some more painkillers, but on top of that, I was definitely taken aback by this criticism.  I make it my business to get everything absolutely correct (hence my disappointment about "south" vs "east").  My careful research is the backbone on which my writing layers over.  I honed my investigative skills tracing my family lines back to the 1700s and have uncovered so much about my great grandfather's story.  If I have something incorrect, it is my personal belief my whole book about him will be for nothing - invalid.  I took offence to this claim and said, quite peevishly,
"He wasn't born in Ballarat, He was born in Brunswick.  I have his birth certificate".  (I also have all his service records and medical records, and in all Jim Cowey writes in his own hand that he was born in Brunswick).

To this I was told,
"Those things can be wrong, you know.  You should talk to X about it, she's the one that told me".
I couldn't believe it, not only were some not talking to me, they were talking about me and this so-called mistake.  I was so annoyed by this stage, and in increasing pain, I just had to walk away.  I saw my good friend Bruce nearby and he said,
"Come up real good, didn't it!".
I could have hugged him!  That's what friends are for!

But apart from that, it was not all doom and gloom on the day.  I was very interested to see and speak to my Dad's cousin who brought along a display of postcards Jim wrote to his future wife from Egypt, in the February before Gallipoli.  I had a nice chat to another cousin.  My Auntie gave me some written anecdotes from Auntie Joan, some I had already but some were new to me and I can use in my book.  I thought it was fantastic to see "Old Jim" Cowey and J.D. McKay side by side again, this time up on the memorial, and I really enjoyed catching up with J.D.'s daughter Lorraine and Peter Cochrane and meeting J.D's extended family.  I had a lovely chat and a nice photo taken with John Akhurst which I will treasure.  He told me not to worry about the little mistake, patted me on the arm and said
"At least he's up there, being recognised".
And John is right.

If you are ever in the area, I recommend you visit the Kokoda Memorial Terrace.  You could read the panels before you train on the 1000 steps, and each step may become more meaningful than a purely physical challenge.  Need some motivation?  It also might give you a new appreciation of the men who battled for Australia and our freedoms.  What our men endured in Papua is simply amazing to me.

My final though should return to the 39th Battalion veterans, John Akhurst and Alan Moore.  These men must be applauded for all their hard work getting the Kokoda Memorial Terrace project up and running.  They continue to fight for their comrades, even in their 90s!  They fight for recognition and remembrance of their mates, for both those who came home and those who never saw Australia again.  In the end, John and Alan have achieved a beautiful space for us and future generations to reflect upon the sacrifice of all our men who fought in Papua. What a legacy you leave John and Alan!  Congratulations, and thank you!


My Kokoda Memorial Terrace album on facebook

P.S. - you will find "lovely" photographs of me in much pain in that album, so please be forgiving of the state I was in!!  Later that night I went into emergency in Ballarat and was admitted with acute sinusitis.  I was on a drip for two days and eventually had an operation.  Therefore, I kind of feel a certain satisfaction that the level of pain I was in was justifiably so and was not me being a wuss!!

A friend's connection to Kokoda

Here is a link to a story written by a friend of mine, Bruce McClean, who I met when we trekked Kokoda together.

Douglas McClean MC 

The subject is Bruce's Great Uncle, Douglas McClean MC.  Doug McClean's Military Cross was the "first (awarded) in the South Pacific area as well as being on Australian territory".   You will agree he was a legend!

Kokoda Day 2012 - 70th Anniversary

On the 8th of August 2012, it was 70 years since Kokoda was retaken by A Coy of the 39th Battalion - my great grandfather Jim Cowey's company.   On that day, Jim himself fired the flare to signal to Battalion HQ (located in Deniki) that Kokoda was once again held by the Australians.  But the signal was not seen.  Soon after, heavy fighting with the better prepared and equipped Japanese Imperial Army took place and the Kokoda legend was born.  During that battle, the 39th battalion faced a formidable foe who at the time were considered the best jungle fighters in the world.  The Australians were pushed to their limits without adequate ammunition or supplies or training in jungle warfare to support their defence of Kokoda and the strategic airstrip.  After almost 2 days of fighting and using almost all ammunition at their disposal, Captain Symington (in command of A Coy) decided there was no other option available to him but to order his men to withdraw back to Deniki.  

From AWM Collection, ID Number 026319:  "PAPUA. 1942-08. WOUNDED MEMBERS OF THE 39TH INFANTRY BATTALION MAKING THEIR WAY BACK ALONG A JUNGLE TRAIL TO THE BASE HOSPITAL. THEY ARE ALL SUFFERING FROM GUNSHOT WOUNDS SUSTAINED IN THE FIGHTING AGAINST THE JAPS IN THE KOKODA AREA. TO REACH THE HOSPITAL AREA THEY HAD TO WALK FOR NEARLY SIX DAYS THROUGH THICK JUNGLE".

It is in the withdrawal that my great grandfather made a decision that would change the immediate fate of 8 or 9 young men in his company.  Jim Cowey stayed behind at Kokoda after the main body of A Coy had left.  He knew there were young blokes left behind who did not get the message to withdraw.  Like a mother hen protecting her young, 52-year-old-Jim gathered these boys up and remained "as cool as a cucumber" throughout his stressful and highly dangerous undertaking.  At this time, "grenades were still exploding in weapon pits and the Japanese were thrusting their bayonets under huts" in search of cut-off Australians.  In this hostile environment, Jim Cowey calmly organised his gathered crew into single file and together they simply walked out of Kokoda in the dark under Jim's leadership - over the bridge, across the airstrip and into the relative safety of the jungle.  Jim kept watch over his young comrades while they slept that night and the next day they went in search of the main body of A Coy.  They stumbled upon a Japanese machine gun crew along the way and Jim disposed of them, continuing his display of calm confidence.  But the heat was then on, so Jim's group again went bush.  After a time, they came upon the village of Naro and there they found the main body of A Coy.  There was quiet celebration in Naro that day, as Jim's group had been written off by their comrades, thought to have been surely lost in the fierce, close fighting at Kokoda.  Jim's story was to continue in Papua....

*****

For many, many years, the 39th Battalion veterans, their family members and descendants (and the general public) have been making an annual pilgrimage to The Shrine in Melbourne for Kokoda Day.  For the official 70th Anniversary commemorations, a special Kokoda Day was planned with the Governor General Quentin Bryce in attendance to deliver an address.  Interestingly, we share a birthday, and also she was born the December in the year the Kokoda battles actually took place.  

For this special Kokoda Day, I brought my 2 young children with me to The Shrine so that they could be present as direct descendants of a 39th Battalion veteran.  I took Aidan (then 5) out of school for the day but still dressed him in his uniform, I guess as a mark of respect for the occasion.  My daughter Aoife had just turned 3 the weekend before and together we travelled down to Melbourne in the family car.

On the way we talked about Jim Cowey, and I explained to my kids that there was "2 big wars" that their great great grandfather fought in and that this special day was all about the second time he fought.  (Coincidentally, the 8th of August 2012 was also the 94th anniversary of the "Black Day" of Germany's WW1 campaign, where the Allies, including Jim's then 46th Battalion with whom he held rank of Lieutenant, ferociously attacked the German defences along the Western Front.  That was 24 years before Kokoda).  My kids listened when I said we were going to meet people who knew him, people he taught and that we'd also meet families of people who fought with him.  I tried to articulate to them the solemness of the day and that there would be a lot of quiet times that we would have to be still and listening for.  I guess it was a big ask for them to remain still and quiet for the whole ceremony, but I wanted them to be there, to be a part of it.  It was important.  Unfortunately, it didn't exactly work out the way I had hoped (dreamed? :) ).  The kids were a little fidgety after the car-ride and were wanting to giggle with each other during the ceremony in the Crypt.  I was quite on edge trying to keep them both in line and respectful, wary of the solemn atmosphere and the veterans themselves, who on this day were revisiting their war service and without doubt would not appreciate a "display" from young children when they were trying to commemorate their fallen comrades.  In the end, I guess I sacrificed my own enjoyment of the day by choosing to keep the kids quiet instead of concentrating completely on the speeches made.  But I was glad that I was there as a great granddaughter of James Picken Cowey, MC.  I was glad that my children were there too, and even more importantly, that they got to meet the veterans and families of those Jim Cowey served with, some who he even saved during the campaign that formed part of the Battle for Australia, 70 years ago.

We were welcomed very briefly to the ceremony by the current President of the 39th Australian Infantry Battalion Association, Norm Stockdale.  The Governor General Quentin Bryce then spoke and the veterans really seemed to appreciate her address and in all were quite impressed with her representation and attention to them on the day.  Rev Peter Holloway led the gathered crowd in prayers and Alan "Kanga" Moore recited the Ode. Overwhelmingly however, the most moving part of the ceremony for me was when 39th battalion veteran George Cops came to the microphone.  Mr Cops is a lovely man and I've been lucky to meet him and his wife and family, and they truly are "good people", always friendly, welcoming and ready for a chat.  My children by this stage had settled down and so a poignant silence enveloped us that made Mr Cops' delivery even more special.  His voice filled The Crypt as he read out the names of the fallen, his very own friends and comrades.  Many names resonated from A Coy's story....Johnny Stormont, Vern Scattergood, Bill Drummond, Tony Ruwolt and Jim's friend George Mowat.  But the sheer number of names, of mostly young men cut down in their prime so that we may enjoy our freedoms, was striking to me.  As are the statistics: after the Owen Stanley Campaign only 185 able-bodied men were left out of 500 soldiers who started up the track.  After being reinforced with a further 600 men, the 39th continued to fight at the beachhead battles of Gona, Buna and Sanananda and at the end of the bitter fighting against the Japanese, only 7 officers and 25 other ranks remained fit for active duty!  On the Kokoda Track and the beachheads, the 39th Battalion, and more importantly Australia, lost 135 men in Papua.  Hearing their names read aloud really drove home that point.  It truly was an emotional moment.

Afterwards, we enjoyed meeting up with the 39th Battalion veterans and their families, and those who also make up the greater "39th Battalion family".  I am proud and honoured to call them my friends now too.  

Lorraine Cochrane, daughter of 39th battalion veteran J.D. McKay MM DSM with Aoife and Aidan Lynch, the great great Grandchildren of Jim Cowey MC!  JD always maintained that Jim Cowey saved his life at Kokoda - JD was in the group of young men that Jim led out.

39th battalion veteran John Akhurst with my children. John was a friend of Jim Cowey and they met up again after the Kokoda campaign at the Sellheim Camp in QLD - Jim was going home and John was on his way back to Papua to fight in the beachhead battles. John says that Jim gave him the "head's up" about what to expect from the Japanese, which he said he was lucky to have.

39th battalion veteran Rev Peter Holloway with Aidan and Aoife after the Kokoda Day ceremony. Peter officiated at Jim Cowey's funeral in 1968.

My Kokoda Day Album