By TOG
It was only after my best friend passed away a few days ago that I truly comprehended how fortunate I was to have had his friendship.
We grew up in London during World War II, navigating bomb sites, climbing stairs with missing treads, and balancing across floors with gaps that allowed us to see down to the basement.
To us, it felt thrilling and perilous; we battled with kids from other schools, throwing bricks at one another or pretending to be soldiers.
As teenagers, we both embarked on careers at a national newspaper. Soon enough, National Service beckoned. He opted for the Medical Corps as a male nurse, unable to bear the thought of taking a life. He was sent to Korea and sailed home on a ship laden with wounded soldiers, witnessing sights and sounds that hardened him. During his last six months in the army, he nursed at a medical centre for service personnel suffering from breakdowns.
Upon his return to work, he was depleted, desperately needing rest and a shift in his lifestyle.
I introduced him to drinking to aid in his recovery. Together, we frequented nearly every pub in London. With a heart as vast as the ocean, he extended help to everyone he encountered—I never saw him refuse a kind word or the best advice he could offer.
Our families emigrated to Australia, marking the beginning of a new chapter in our lives.
Just two weeks prior to his passing, we engaged in a deep conversation about life, death, and memories, which soon turned into a debate fueled by a few drinks.
We reached a consensus that Shakespeare was the greatest playwright, Errol Flynn starred in the finest film, Robin Hood, and Tom Sharpe was the best fiction author.
Eventually, the conversation turned toward Australia. We pondered who the greatest Australian had ever been, ultimately settling on ‘Weary’ Dunlop, a remarkable man, an angel sent to assist us all.
When I inquired who he considered the finest politician, he remarked that none had been born yet.
However, we both concurred that the two prime ministers who declared war on Germany must have been the most courageous politicians. It required immense bravery to send a large country with a small population to fight to the death, proving that the diggers were formidable foes capable of defeating armies twice their size.
I also mentioned that whoever authorized Sunday drinking and horse racing was indeed a commendable individual.
Determining the best sportsman or sportswoman was nearly impossible. He argued that cricket was where Australia excelled globally, yet there were so many athletes, swimmers, and footballers that all of our sportspeople deserved recognition for their achievements, given our small population. I attempted to advocate for Rod Laver as the best tennis player in the world, and Dawn as the premier swimmer, but by that point, we had consumed enough alcohol to warrant a break.
That final gathering underscored how fortunate I was to have such a genuine, honest, and loyal friend. Now that he is gone, I find it heartbreaking to think I cannot convey to his family just how extraordinary he was…his children and grandchildren remember him as pops and gramps, a warm and loving man.
I cherish the memories of the boy, the lad, the man—the quick mind and the great heart.
I will forever hold my friend in my heart. To all my loyal readers, I urge you to seek your friends, engage in discussions about your lives, raise a toast, and discover who you believe was the greatest Australian.
