Virtual
War Memorial
Australia

Died peacefully at his Blackwood home

Roy Victor Braendler   bn:   5/6/1923 -  23/3/2016

Funeral eulogy:

On behalf of our family, I wish to thank you all for coming today to honour my father.  Not only was he a wonderful father, but he was very caring and committed to helping others in the community.  Yet he knew over the past two years that he was wearing out.  He suffered from long term diabetes, possibly caused by war stress, an insidious condition which gradually sapped his energy, his mobility, and affected his body so much that he felt a burden to Mum especially.  I believe he made his own decision to check out, when the nursing home loomed ahead as an inevitable move.  I’m so glad he did it his own way, before losing all dignity and hope of staying at home.

Dad was very much a man of his own German culture.  He was born at the Hahndorf Hospital (now the Heysen Art Gallery), as a descendant of German immigrants from Silesia in the 3rd wave of settlers in the 1850s seeking freedom and a better life.  He inherited their strong sense of family and community, of ambition when given opportunity, of a sincere Lutheran faith, of a certain frugality, and of enjoying the simple pleasures of life.  He was a farmer in his bones, producing most of the household vegetables, and finding great solace in his outdoors church.

His father Vic left the family farm at Monarto to start his own at Flaxley, but after problems with water rights, gained a job in the railways at Tailem Bend, thus providing a secure income during the Depression years.  Dad and his 2 brothers Lawrie and John enjoyed a country life, fishing and trapping rabbits, and swimming in the River Murray.

Roy’s gentle mother Ida saved up her housekeeping money to send Roy to Murray Bridge High School by train, and after gaining his Intermediate level, he left home at the age of 14 to work in the  post office at Mt Barker and later at Blackwood, where he boarded and studied for higher certificates.  He loved this country village, as it was then, so much so that he later settled here for the rest of his life, yet always kept close connections with his relatives.

The effect of World War II then changed his life forever, as only servicemen in the fighting arena can really know.   Like his older brother Lawrie, who had earlier joined the army, and anticipating adventure and excitement, as well as driven by a sense of duty, Roy enlisted in the navy in 1941 at the age of 18.

He spent 3 months doing seamanship, PE and drill, then 6 months training as a gunnery rating, and was then sent by train to join the Forceful tug in Darwin in April 1942, for the next 12 months. He experienced some very scary Japanese bombing raids, which had started in February.  Dad recalled how he and his mates would stop their game of cricket and duck for cover in trenches when the Japanese bombed the airfield and township, and then finish their cricket game when safe to do so. 

Non-combative service followed. He then joined the Vigilant defending the Dutch New Guinea  coastline ,  later the  Mary Cam, a minesweeper  defusing a few German-laid mines between Kangaroo Island and the SA mainland and then  corvettes, transporting food and supplies to troops in Timor and doing survey work around Dutch New Guinea.  They also towed larger ships away from wharves when under attack, so they were not sitting targets.  He related how they were trapped under a wharf one night, keeping absolutely still while the Japanese marched on the jetty above.

But Dad’s real war drama started when he was posted to the flagship of the Australian Navy, the HMAS Australia, in May 1944, fighting in the Lingayen Gulf in the Philippines.  The 8” cruiser was part of a huge flotilla of 600 American and Australian ships, all strung out in a line, gathered to retaliate against the Japanese.  During the Battle of Leyte in September,  he worked in the shell-keeping room below his big gun, but was later called up to the steel-lined cabin below the top deck as a signalsman and radar plotter, as his morse code skills through post office training were very good.  If he had stayed below with his gunner mates, he would have been killed with them. 

The HMAS Australia became the first allied ship to fall victim to an unconventional method of warfare: the  Japanese kamikaze attack.  Dad experienced the horror of a pilot flying the first kamikaze plane into the ship.  He could see the pilot’s face as he crashed his plane into the top deck, killing the captain, Admiral Commodore Collins, and 29 officers and crew, injuring 64 others, and setting the ship ablaze.  After trying to help the captain, Dad had to stay at his post getting the message out to the Australian airforce for help.  With 5 more kamikaze planes damaging the ship, the crew were in a state of shock and terror.   Dad had to do things he had never anticipated, such as battening down holds when seawater poured in through holes made by planes, so that the whole ship was saved – but not his mates.  He had nightmares about such terrors for most of his years afterwards, but never sought counselling for what we now know is PTSD.   War has an indelible effect, and makes peace, family and security so much more a desirable permanence, and that’s what he lived for afterwards.

While training in his gunnery course, Roy met his wife-to-be, Myra Cockerall, under the Flinders  Station clock in Melbourne when a friend asked him to make up a foursome.  When he missed the last train, and the taxi did not have enough petrol to run him back to base, he stayed at her parents’ place even though they had never met before.  It’s rather odd that he never missed another train since then! Once he was sent to sea they wrote letters which were censored with thick red pencil so that forwarding details did not fall into enemy hands.   Using all her coupons, Mum knitted jumpers, socks, balaclavas and mittens, and also sent him Smiths Weeklies.

Six months after the war ended in August 1945, Dad was discharged and married Mum as soon as possible on 2nd March 1946 at the Footscray Presbyterian Church.  Like many others, Dad married in his sailor’s uniform as he could not afford a suit but Mum had saved coupons to wear a beautiful bride’s gown.  Their ceremony took only 60 minutes as so many others were lined up in the church to be married, and they spent their honeymoon in the Grampians.  The young couple decided to settle in Blackwood, where Dad was able to return to his former job as the local Post Office. 

Like many others, they lived in a tent for 9 months at the bottom of a large block Dad purchased in Blackwood.   As Mum’s father was a master builder, he and her mother helped them construct their house of the permissible 10 squares,  making bricks and tiles every day, as there was such a shortage of building materials after the war.  Their wood stove and ice cooler were  replaced  6 years later with  a fridge and Electrolux stove when electrical appliances became available.  They also bought an FJ Holden with the number plate:  471 471, so us kids were never game to speed in it. They lived in their house for 65 years, reluctant to leave as they put so much of themselves into creating it. However, due to steep surrounding hills and difficulties with mobility, they moved to their current unit near the hub of Blackwood.

Dad went to work in BP in 1951, later studying for a Business Administration degree at night school at the forme Institute of Technology to work his way up from paymaster to staff manager, and joining in their Christmas family picnics at National Park and swimming carnivals between the 4 big oil companies. But when they all left Adelaide, he took early retirement, rather than leave his community to go to Queensland for a promotion as deputy manager.  He and Mum had 3 children, myself, Rob and Lyndy,  and not only watched us playing sport and instructing at the former Blackwood Gym, with Mum’s influence, he took us on yearly holidays, especially to Coffins Bay for a good feed of whiting, and later to annual family holidays at Judith Rodger’s cottage at Port Willunga. He was a  proud grandparent of 5 great kids: Rick and David, and James, John and Emma, who are with us today after flying in from Tasmania.  But Dad aged rapidly when faced with the pain of 2 children dying before himself:  Lyndy at 49 due to a stroke, and Rob at 61 of cancer. 

Dad was very muh a man of his own generation, the like of which I doubt we will ever see again. One where neighbou5rs helped each other due to material shortages and isolation when they had no cars.  They made their own fun, with many BBQs and Mum and Dad always had up to 60 celebrating Christmas morning, totalling ignoring the fact that us kids were famished when the last left at 2 o’clock before we could tuck in to lunch.

Dad was a strong but very humble, quiet achiever, always generous with his help and friendship to others, as he loved being with people and gave with his heart.  Dad was very committed to his local RSL, its veterans and their families, where he and Mum went to many social dances and holidays around Australia and New Zealand with friends and his HMAS Australia mates. Later, he joined the Blackwood Lutheran Church, Probus and his geriatric tennis club, and also organised local Salvation Army collections for many years. 

He and his friend Eric Talbot-Smith started the first welfare service at the Blackwood RSL, looking after veterans affected by war trauma, visiting them in hospital, and later their widows. He was very proud to receive the Order of Australia for Community Service at Government House in 2005 – and his family was so very proud of him.  He inspired us all, particularly my son David, who chose the navy as his career due to Dad’s influence.  He’s going to march on Anzac Day wearing Dad’s medals with pride.

Parents should never under-estimate their importance as life-givers and role models, and the values they impart, more by their actions than their words.  For me, he was my rock, holding me together through many dark years of major depression, and being my lifeline to a place of safety.  He always showed his love, from sending me Advertisers when living overseas to ringing me up every Sunday when in the Riverland for many years, and helping with our grape harvest.  I loved having him stay at my place to give Mum a much-needed break in later years.  I loved his quiet, caring and unassuming ways, his philosophical ideas generated b is experiences, and feel so fortunate to have been his daughter.

He’s here with us today – and would want me to thank Pastor Ben and good friend Judith at the organ, the ladies making us refreshments, and his godson Malcolm Paech and long term RSL friend Frank Blamey for remembering him in a minute. But most of all he would want to thank Mum for being such a Trojan looking after him as he became more dependent on her. He loved sharing their  70th wedding anniversary here  3 weeks ago – a real highlight after his heart operation – and was then able to finally let go.

Thanks so very much, Dad, for just being you.