Virtual
War Memorial
Australia

Peter Haran's Personal Reflections

I left school at about 17 and went fruitpicking, before joining the army on Jan 6, 1966.

It was a huge shock for a former pimply kid to find himself in the Green Machine for the next six years - and boy what a ride it was.

After infantry training I became a tracking dog handler - one of the first in the army and one of the first to go to Vietnam.

He was one of my best mates - the dog, that is. His name was Caesar, a Lab cross kelpie larrikin and we shared the war and all its good and bad times together for 12 unforgettable months.
I left Caesar in Vietnam in 1968 and took up the post of war dog trainer at Ingleburn for two years - made more mates and loved the army life.

Next posting was 3RAR at Woodside and after that back to Vietnam again. More mates in that bloody war - some no longer with us.

It was 30 plus years later I wrote my first war book as a dedication to the dog I knew, then wrote three more books with really good mate and ex 5RAR and 3RAR grunt Bob "Dogs" Kearney.

I've been back to Vietnam 6 times and love the place and the people - and more mates I made.

Peter Haran and his dog Caeser

If I was asked to describe Peter in just two words I would answer Passion and Commitment

Peter was born in England, spent his formative years in Rhodesia (Zimbabwe) and like the great South African- Australian author Bryce Courtney grew up to believe in and practice the Power of One  -  Whenever or wherever he could make a difference, he did.

He was passionate and committed to life and everything he believed in as I’m sure all who knew him will attest

To all who served with him, worked with him liked him or loved him he was a special friend, comrade, mate, volunteer, and human being.

I served in the 3rd Battalion with him in South Vietnam in 1971 but did not really get to know him as a mate until some years later when we came together to write the book Crossfire  When I read his marvellous book Trackers the story of his first tour of duty as a dog handler with the 2nd Battalion and the love he expressed in that book for what he called his “ black crossbred Labrador Kelpie Larriikin dog” Caeser

 I knew he put his heart and soul in to his writing  - Spoiler alert – I told him over a coffee later I wept towards the end of his book when I read this  - I made some coffee and the  handler Norm told me before they went home they offered to pay $2000 to take the dogs back, quarantine bills and all that stuff. They were told the dogs had to stay and keep working. I don't think a dog can do more than a year on the trot over here. Jeepers, we couldn't have I stepped out of the tent and turned towards the road and saw the kennels a short distance in front. I forced each step, head down. The other handler stayed in his tent, recognising I wanted this time alone.

Caesar saw me coming and jumped up on the arc mesh, while Marcus was in his favourite position, on his back, legs in the air snoring. I walked up to the fence and stuck my hand in for a playful bite.

I gotta go, you gotta stay, that's the bloody way they run this war. You've got a new boss, but I don't  want you to forget me, I won't ever forget you...' He looked at me. I stepped back and Marcus woke up. Both dogs looked as if saying they understood  - You're leaving us.  You're Going home and we've staying here.

The tears started to well up and Caesar picked his bowl up in his mouth. I turned and walked straight back to the road. I heard the bowl hit the concrete floor and fought with every fibre in my body the urge to look back. I felt a ton of lead fall from my chest straight down through my stomach.

In the tent I started to hyperventilate and hung my head while Simon, Blue and Bob looked in. Fergie got up and took the long walk up to the kennels. I shoved my hand over my mouth when I felt sobs coming on. I didn't want to make a spectacle of myself.

'Let it go, let it go. We'll never forget the buggers', Blue patted me on the back.

It was June 1, we flew out on the Chinooks and 4RAR flew in.

I told him I was having a crack at writing a book about the first and only Australian reconnaissance platoon to serve in South Vietnam and the difficulty I was having with the layout mainly and what not to write, grammar and what I should focus on.

Peter who I learned over a short period of time thereafter was definitely passionate about his coffee and cigarettes and when I mentioned the book I was hacking away at, he spilled his coffee took a long draw on his smoke and with the passion he had for all things military said “Wait a minute cobber why don’t I help you and we can work together.”  We were soon meeting up in a coffee lounge in Waymouth Street to talk about our then unnamed book over copious cups of coffee and cigarettes. We both had good bosses.  Over the following months I would write and email him stories and he would cut and reorder my work, editing and authoring as he went. His Commitment and passion was evident in all the changes and throw aways he made and since I knew he was a renowned journalist we never argued.

Thanks to him the book Crossfire was very successful

 Over the many years we were mates whenever I called him or we met up to review a movie or talk at a school he would always say “gidday cobber, how’s it all going” in that way only he could.

He wrote for the Sunday Mail for 25 Years and although he never spoke about it much, one of the funny things I remember him telling me was “ If the front page is about Sharks or old Serial Killings don’t buy it – They’re out of news.”   

Peter genuinely cared for others and each conversation or meeting was always interesting because he was such a great story teller but above all he was  a very attentive listener, Hand on chin and looking in your eyes.

In later life Peter returned to Vietnam a number of times and more than once he’d ask me if I would go with him but sadly  I said “Nah I’ve been their twice that’s enough”  He said “you don’t know what your missing mate the people and the country are marvellous” I did go back some years later with a group of teachers and schoolkids and found what he told me to be absolutely correct – One of my regrets in life was missing all the fun we could have had together.

 We co- wrote another book and then because he had taught me so well I went on to write and or co - write others. Peter of course continued to write and his next book was a dedication to the chopper crews in Vietnam. After retiring from journalism and writing he took up art which again through his passion and commitment he became so good at it people actually bought them.

Anyway, Pete you are now and always will be loved and sadly missed by so many. Thanks for all the laughs and good times and for allowing me to be part of your life, but for now Pete let's just say "catch you and Caeser at the next RV" - "Dogs”.