Virtual
War Memorial
Australia

Dick Morris was born on 17 May, 1925 in a private hospital on Magill Road, Adelaide to Harry and Eileen.

Dick was their second child after his sister Maureen, born 15 months before him, with David following three years later.

Dick was brought up in Joslin, Adelaide and educated at East Adelaide and Norwood Primary schools.

For Dad, primary school existed for two purposes, eating lunch and fighting.

Dad’s resilience and toughness began at an early age.

One day he suffered a broken leg at school.

With a bone protruding from his leg, he was donkeyed home by two lads on a bicycle, the doctor was called and the leg was reset on the dining room table.

Dad and his siblings had a happy childhood.

Maureen fondly recalls playing cricket with her brothers, but was never allowed to bat.

She was only allowed to bowl and field.

He had a fortunate childhood and would often recall the pleasant Sunday drives in the Adelaide Hills and to visit extended family all over Adelaide.

One memorable incident from these days was the time Maureen and Eileen were busy in the kitchen and looked up to see David running past the kitchen window followed by a hammer followed by Dick.

Dick finished his education at Urrbrae Agricultural College and went on to complete a wool-classing course at Goldsborough’s in their Port Adelaide wool stores.

He would ride his bicycle to and from Joslin and Port Adelaide each day.

Between the ages of 15 and 17 Dad worked in shearing sheds on a variety of outback stations as part of his wool-classing course.

This broadened Dad’s education in life and probably began his love for the land.

Australia was at war and as soon as Dad could, at the tender age of 18, he enlisted in the RAAF.

It was 1943 and Dad was determined to do his bit.

He saw active duty in South East Asia particularly Borneo, Timor, Dutch New Guinea and Malaya.

On one occasion, when the Japanese were nearby, a loud rat-tat-tatting woodpecker sound of a Japanese machinegun started close to where Dad and his mates were sleeping on the concrete verandah of a substantial building.

Dad vowed and declared that with the fright they got, that without tools, it was possible to dig holes in concrete and, sure enough, on the wall above their heads was the line of bullet holes.

Dad was demobbed in December 1945 and returned to his family who had moved to Kangaroo Island the previous August. According to Mum, Dad and his siblings cut a dashing swathe amongst the local community.

Dad’s father had bought Woolmit and other land holdings between Kingscote and American River to set his boys up as farmers.

It was then up to Dad and Uncle David to clear this land of the mallee, spending their week days in an old stone hut at Royston Park with weekends back at Woolmit.

He also spent time working on the Camelback property in the Cygnet valley.

It was during this time that Dad’s enjoyment of horse-riding grew and he would compete in the local shows and gymkhanas.

As a young bachelor Dad enjoyed the company of Keith Wiadrowski and they often went bush for recreation and sport.

On one of these recreational camps when roo shooting at the Ravine de Casoars, it rained for the whole week ruining most of their food supplies.

As a result their diet for most of the time they were there consisted of dry weetbix and rum.

Dad boasted that this diet improved their hunting prowess significantly.

During the latter part of the forties Dad met the love of his life, the beautiful Judith Maureen Neighbour.

They were engaged on March 25th 1950 and married the following year on March 28th.

After their honeymoon they moved into a tin shack at Tanah-Merah, the farm which Dad had started clearing during their engagement.

The first paddock Dad cleared turned up some red coloured dirt, hence the name Tanah-Merah which is a New Guinean dialect for red dirt.

Later that year Mark John, a healthy, bonny 81/2 pounder, was born – early. Mum used to tell us that every time Dad hung his pants over the end of the bed, whoopsee, another one.

Mum and Dad then built their dream home a short distance from the shack. Over the next few years Debby, Peter, Caty and Emmy all duly arrived.

The neighbourhood population grew with families such as the Bunkers, Holmans, Moores, Ayliffes, Johnsons, Halls and Barrett’s producing many good friendships for the family. Other families important to their lives were the Stones and the Wallers and, of course, David and Jill Morris, Robyn and Perry, and Maureen and Jack Pengilly, Michael and Angela. The Neighbour families were also there.

The neighbouring farmers would help each other out many times during the course of a farming season.

Dad’s occasional bad temper soon became well known (and feared).

On one occasion when they were burning off there were problems with starting a water truck.

With an older neighbour on the back of the truck repeatedly warning younger neighbours not to laugh or say anything, they watched Dad trying to start the truck with a crank handle.

Finally, Dad’s temper cracked and uttering the words, ‘You’re deaf and dumb you bastard, you may as well be blind too’, he duly smashed the headlights with the crank handle.

Dad’s occasional lapse in temper could also produce some colourful language particularly in the sheep yards, and the vocabularies of us kids increased dramatically.

Life was never dull.

Dad and Mum were hard working and ventured in to a number of farming enterprises.

These included dairying, pigs, chooks, turkeys (up to 3000 at one stage), wool, cropping, beef and prime lamb production.

Their farming was successful enough to give us all a good education and help set up Mark and Peter on their own farms.

We all have many happy memories of life on the farm.

In December 1976 Dad and Mum moved to the place his parents once lived, Woolmit. Dad continued farming for a number of years before retiring.

He undertook many activities after retirement, including renovating the house with Mum, (creating a focal point for their children and grand children); woodwork and furniture restoration; and helping out when needed by his children in their various pursuits.

One memorable occasion involved the ‘smelly swimming pool’ that occurred when a cracked pipe under the house leaked water filling the gap between the foundations under the dining room.

The floorboards needed to be lifted and a fire fighting pump set up in the dining room with a hose out through the window to pump out the putrid water.

Oh, the smell! Such were the joys of renovating an old house!

Dad was thrilled to have the wedding receptions of all three daughters at Woolmit. Hours of hard work and preparation led to happy, memorable occasions for the brides and grooms, their respective families and their guests.

One such occasion Dad and Mum, with their great friends Don and Fay Davidson, led the table top dancing, to the delight of all the guests and especially their young grandchildren.

In ensuing years we’ve held many happy family occasions at Woolmit and we will continue to do so knowing Dad will be there in spirit.

Dad’s community involvement was diverse and extensive and he gave 100% to what ever he was involved with.

It included Legacy for 58 years; Racing Club where he was initially clerk of the course and then secretary for approximately 23 years; Freemason’s where he became Master at the age of 28; the RSL; the United Football Club (for whom he played) then the Dudley United Football Club and later the Wisanger Football Club when his sons started playing; the American River Tennis Club; Hospital board; and, school council.

Dad was also a founding, life-long member of the Epicurean Club and at times enjoyed too much the membership of this club.

In more recent years his involvement has been with the Birchmore Bowling Club and the National Trust’s Dads’ Army.

He enjoyed being involved with these organisations and the friendships they created.

Over his time Dad became well known for his sense of humour and the strong friendships he made.

He placed a very strong importance on family and family values, and testament to this is the fact that each and every one of his grandchildren are here today, having travelled from as far afield as London, China, Perth and Melbourne.

As a family we have loved and respected Dad and will cherish his memory.