Lest We Forget.
Lest We Forget. Another Remembrance Day has passed and another set of memories has been stirred. Memories of lined, leathery faces, now gone, who had entered the fray as young men and lived to return. My father’s brothers-in-arms. Their faded tales emerge from the mist …
Bitter Sweet.
Bitter Sweet…..some posts are more difficult to write than others. Life is all about making decisions – some big – some small. For those of you who have followed my journey over the last 12 months, you will be well aware of the challenges …
One Year On.
At the time that I last parked the brakes on my Boeing 737, there were two things to which I was oblivious. Firstly, that it was the last time that I’d park the brakes. And secondly, it was Halloween. In retrospect, the time of …
When?
When? July 2020. It’s deathly quiet. The airliner is all but empty. Just we six, reclined and in search of sleep with the engines hum the white noise filling our heads. The Pacific Ocean slides beneath us and home edges closer as the hours pass …
Special Hours.
Special Hours A career in aviation is often referred to in terms of hours. The clock is ticking each time that we take to the skies and then dutifully entered into a log book with details of the flight and the hours and minutes aloft. …
Stairs and Elevators.
Stairs and Elevators. I’ve often perceived personal progress as the comparison between stairs and elevators. Sometimes it’s a laborious climb and sometimes a quick, quiet rise. Which method you employ can be beyond your control, dependent upon the whims of luck, timing and even …
You’ll Never Know About the One that Kills You.
“If I felt or heard a thump, I knew I was still alive. I figured I’d never know about the one that killed me.” This is a quote of my father’s that now adorns a wall within the Australian War Memorial. As I reflected …
Six Months On.
Six Months On. “Gee, that time’s gone quickly”. This is the most common response when I tell people that six months has passed since my surgery. For the most part, I agree. However, in the early stages of recovery there were days that seemed to …
My Dad Never Marched on Anzac Day.
My Dad Never Marched on ANZAC Day. Both of my parents served in the military – in wartime and in peace. My mother marched on Anzac Day but my father never did. My mother was an Air Force radar operator – a “hush hush” …
Unforgettable….My Years as an Ambo.
(A much younger me on duty.) Unforgettable…My Years as an Ambo. At the core, I always wanted to be a pilot. However, the path to the cockpit is an expensive business and the road an even longer one. On leaving school, I entered a business …
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