NEBO IN THE 1940's

NEBO IN THE 1940'S
by Ainslie McCall


Stacked under the schoolhouse were large amounts of tinned food. In the bush was a huge fuel storage area. In the night you could hear the noise as individual 44 gallon drums cooled down in the night air. It was 'War Time'.


Chum and Carol McCall were my mum and dad. Dad was a stockman who joined the Army and would be away for four years, leaving mum, Luke and myself to do the chores on our place. We had a few head of cattle that we had to round up and milk. I used to go out at 6 am to round up the cows and mum did the milking to begin with but I took that over pretty soon after dad left. Gordon was a baby and took up most of mum's time. There were mornings when Billy Butterworth would go pig hunting and he had asked mum if I could go with him to give him a hand to truss the pigs. These mornings meant a 4am start and Archibald, my horse, was always ready for a ride, even though he hated pigs!


Our schoolteacher was Jim Collins. We weren't too afraid of him, but he could and did whack you with his cane, usually well deserved.


During these war years we were always worried about 'the Japs' and Jim had us boys, the few who were at school, dig zig-zag slit trenches. Jim told us he would have to shoot us if we panicked when the first 'Jap' planes came. (This bit of school information upset mum very much when I told her.) When Jim blew a whistle we would all evacuate the school in an orderly manner (trying not to look panicked in case Jim had a pistol!) and pick a part of the trench around the corner where you felt a Zero could not 'line you up'. Jim stopped blowing his whistle when the rain came as it filled up the trench and he knew we would go home to get changed and not come back! After a while, big water rats lived in there so that rather made it obsolete for the time being! Another worry us boys had, the big girls told us 'the japs' would kill all the boys and save the girls! Being eight years old at the time, I thought it would be crazy for 'the Japs' to do that because girls didn't milk cows, ride horses, fish in the creek or do the school garden.


One great ally we had, especially me, was Dave Mather. Dave lived a splendid life in his dirt floored hut with 'Bruiser' his dog and he used to ride a 'to-die-for' three wheeled push bike with a box for Bruiser and a hurricane light for coming home late at night from the Fort Cooper pub. Dave's son was a sniper in the Army and Dave said he was getting three or four 'Japs' every day. Dave was crippled, supposedly, it was rumoured, from a long forgotten wife who gave him either too much or not enough poison! (I did wonder if wives, maybe, were as bad as 'Japs'.)


Dave was an excellent metal worker. He could make anything out of tin, silver, jam tins and old tanks. His hut had no bathroom so Dave didn't waste any water on washing. He always looked a bit brown. He fixed allmanner of pots and pans with his soldering iron. He could even make tin boxes with plaited 4 strand wire for handles. He had a bountiful garden. Dave's speciality was huge red tomatoes that I often took home to give mum until I made the mistake of telling her how he used the garden bed as a toilet to fertilize them. Mum then gave them to the chooks! Dave soon taught cheeky kids not to be personal. I noticed his shirt was stiched up with string so I said, “Dave, do you sew your clothes with string?” His answer was: “Do you use wire?”


A few days a week down in the main street, most of the boys would wait at “Fairburn's Store” in the late afternoon to buy bread and papers (to see where the 'Japs' were). One afternoon Dave came past on his machine and one of the McDonald boys yelled out, “Your back wheel is going around, Dave”. The immediate answer was, “So would you if you had a greasy axle up youre a..e.” That night Dave got into a fight with Mert O'Sullivan, another favourite character of mine. Mert must have got a good hit on Dave as he received a couple of cracked ribs. Dave's dog, Bruiser, stood by his mate and lacerated Mert's ankles a bit in retaliation.


The Postmaster's wife, Mrs Walsh, was a lovely lady. She heard about Dave's predicament a few days after the fight. She called me to her house and gave me a bottle of 'metho' and some liniment to 'doctor' Dave. I found him in his bunk. He was in a bit of pain and didn't smell too good. Bruiser was there wagging his tail in anticipation, obviously something was going on! Under Dave's shirt his body was black! After a few minutes of good 'metho' rubbing his skin turned white, except for a bit of a bruise where Mert got him. Soon I had a big white circle with muddy black edges. Even Bruiser put his two front paws on the bed so he could have a better look.


Dave recovered quickly with not much further help from me but to bring him some Seville oranges. When I asked him a few days later how he liked them he said, “You little pucker, I had to lick my a..e to get the taste out of my mouth...” Mum told me later those oranges were only used for making jam!


Old Sandy Mc was really crook and Dave heard that he was to be taken to hospital in Mackay. He said to get about three or four boys to go to Sandy's place and boil a copper of water. He wanted scrubbing brushes and soap. Dave knew we, having mothers, would be able to acquire such things. He would bring a big bathtub. The plan was to scrub Sandy clean before he was taken to the hospital. This was done (with only a few changes of water!) before he was all pink and clean.


Mrs Walsh was Catholic and loved by all the mothers in Nebo. Mr and Mrs Walsh had no children themselves.


Mum was Presbyterian, however, she had us baptised as Catholics because she admired Mrs Walsh. Dave was Church of England until one day he waited at the end of the line after Service to shake the Parson's hand, shaking a bit as he always did (and probably a bit smelly as well) and he was totally ignored by the Minister, so Dave became a Catholic, much to the delight of Mrs Walsh.


At the time the Catholics had bought the land where an old pub had burned down. The land was still covered in old stumps. Mrs Walsh and us kids were digging them out when Dave arrived and showed us how to use a lever and fulcrum to remove them easily. The church was finally built. Dave made all the silverware and vases and engraved plates for the altar; he taught Mrs Walsh to engrave also. All the soldiers from Nebo had a tree planted at the church. Dad's was near the front steps on the right side from the street.


One day, for the first time, I found Dave crying; his only son, the sniper, had been killed in action. It was sad for me also as Dad was in New Guinea and the 'Japs' were getting closer.  With the church finished, Mrs Walsh needed some altar boys so I ended up in Walkerston learning Latin and living with the nuns in boarding school. For a 'bush boy' it was really hard – no horse or pushbike! Dave grinned a bit when he first saw me in an altar boy's outfit, but liked the way I could hold a candle near Fr
Lyneham's head and heat him up during the Stations of the Cross. “You little pugger,” he said. Another plus, you could see who had big furry tongues when you held the plate during Communion when everyone had to kneel at the altar rails. Dave, Mert and mum used to sit at the back of the church. Some nights during Benediction you could hear them talking. They had never been hit by a nun for doing such a thing and Mrs Walsh never trained them as she did us! Dave, although he was a bit 'bent', did not consider himself to be disabled in any way. I don't think he owned a broom or a duster and he said hygiene was 'a tall Scottish lass'. He loved going to dances at the Fort Cooper hall attached to the pub, facing the creek.


Before the church was built Mrs Walsh hired it for Mass, First Communion and Confession – where you had to try and think what crime you committed, like a bit of poddy dodging after the drovers went past and left a calf behind, or when Mert showed us how to make five scalps out of one dingo by using the four big foot pads, boring two holes for nostrils, then glue some ears on and wait until they were a bit smelly before taking them to the town clerk for one pound each. I never actually did it because I knew what happened to Ned Kelly and I didn't want Sergeant Jaenke after me; but even thinking bout a sin can get a little catholic boy into hell so Mrs Walsh said!


Everyone loved going to the Saturday night dances at the hall, especially Dave, and, of course, everywhere Dave went Bruiser followed!. Dave's favourite entertainment on these occasions was to sit at the right hand side of the door where there were many small holes in the wall. Most of the elderly women sat on this side while the younger girls sat on the opposite side facing the door. All the men were outside and a few of us boys. Dave always carried several pieces of grass. He would squint through a hole in the wall and line up a ladies ear, then he would thread the grass through the hole and tickle. The result was a big scream and a leap into the air by the poor unfortunate lady thinking that some 'Nebo Bug' had got her. This would keep Dave happy for about 30 minutes or so then he would slide a few feet along the stool and select another victim!


One particular night Dave beat his own record for practical jokes. Ted Farragher had a special song he always performed with great gusto. It was a 'somebody done somebody wrong song' about a girl called Laura. Halfway through the song Ted would lean as far back as he could without falling over and with both hands in the air imploringly, he would hold a long note “...speak to me Lauraaaaa....”, when someone on the verandah yelled even lounder, “Speak to the bastard, Laura, and make him shut up.” Ted immediately went to redline, leapt off the stage and hit the floor running. Us boys sat at the end of the hall facing the stage, so we left the hall in Ted's wake as there was sure to be a fight, one not to be missed! Ted went through the men on the verandah and was out in the dusty street 'shadow boxing' and kicking up a lot of dust like a scrub bull, wanting the culprit to come and fight him. I had a quick look around and the only one red in the face and whimpering was Dave. (It was not long after he'd had his ribcage attacked so it still hurt to laugh!) He even stopped shaking a bit while the threat existed. That marked Ted's final stage appearance. He would never sing 'Laura' again!


It is sad to note in this day and age in Australia, Political Correctness has taken over. Mothers would never allow their boys to visit old friends such as we had in their old ramshackle homes and learn how to solder or plait wire, how to stop a poddy calf from dying or wash an old man, dying from cancer, before he was taken to the hospital. No one was afraid of paedophiles or of getting some disease from drinking tea from a big old (used to be white) enamel mug. It just put your immune system on high alert in both Dave and Mert's houses!


My little granddaughter, Sarah, would have fitted in at my age in Nebo. She already knows you don't have to
have a shower every day as it takes 25 hours for the sun's vitamin D to soak into your system before washing it off! Our daughter caught her out not showering for three days. Dave would have been proud of her.


Our days in Nebo were full. There was never time to be bored and the place was full of characters I remember with great regard.


Ainslie McCall
May 2010
Note:
There were no streets named in the 40's. The School house, the Post Office and the Hotel are still in the same place. The Hall was attached to the Hotel in what is now Water Street. Our cattle paddock was the 10 acres that is now Blue Gum Estate. The other 5 Acres was our house block which is now enclosed on three sides by Trimmer St, Lawrence Street and Peak Downs Highway. Daves place was on what is now the corner of Baker and Oxford Streets.
The Catholic Church was on the corner of Oxford and Reynolds Streets which is now parkland. Mert lived in the bush to the north of what is now Cemetry Road.