Latest news with #AustralianLightHorse
ABC News
27-04-2025
- General
- ABC News
Ex-soldiers preserve emu plume tradition on slouch hats to honour army history
Emu feathers on a slouch hat are a powerful symbol of the Australian Light Horse, and two army veterans are combining their skills so the tradition lives on. Former soldier Dale Kirkman first made a plume for his own hat more than 20 years ago and now makes up to 200 plumes each year for the slouch hats of the Royal Australian Armoured Corps, veterans and re-enactment groups. "It's all about the fullness of the plume and some of the colour," he said. " The tradition was the darker the feather, the better the rider for the Light Horse. " An enduring military symbol The emu plume was made famous in World War I but has its origins in the 1890s Queensland shearers' strike when the mounted infantry were said to have plucked feathers for their hats while riding alongside emus. The plume is still worn by members of the Royal Australian Armoured Corps and is a source of pride to Captain Henry Lindsay, who is originally from Wagga Wagga. The emu plume has become a symbol of the Australian Light Horse. ( Supplied: Australian War Memorial ) "We've continued the tradition that as someone posts into the regiment and becomes part of the Royal Australian Armoured Corps, you don't buy your own emu plumes," Mr Lindsay said. "They're given to you by someone else for good luck. Captain Henry Lindsay was given his emu plume by a colleague for good luck. ( Supplied: Australian Defence Force ) "When I put on my slouch hat with the emu plumes, I feel quite proud. "You can feel them just on top of your hat blowing in the breeze." A careful craft The feathers are painstakingly sorted into different lengths, glued and then carefully stitched into a pouch of kangaroo leather to represent the Australian Coat of Arms. "I try to get feathers with nice tips on them," Mr Kirkman said. "I get a number of these [different sizes] put together and that allows the feather to have that layered effect, so it falls nicely over the slouch hat." Dale Kirkman has been making emu plumes for hats for 20 years. ( ABC News: Cara Jeffery ) To source the feathers, Mr Kirkman works with an army veteran and southern New South Wales emu farmer, Ian Marston. The pair met when they were both working at the Kapooka Army Training Centre in Wagga Wagga and the feathers are exchanged for farm work. Mr Marston said his emus were bred to have full, lush feathers and he was careful about their diet. "We try things all the time to see if we can improve their shine, on their feathers and their coats, as well as improve the oil and the meat flavour," Mr Marston said. Other countries farming emus The 750 emus at Mr Marston's farm produce feathers, meat, leather and decorative eggs for carving but the key product is oil, which is used in healthcare supplements, skincare and cosmetics. Ian Marston says the diverse range of emu products adds to their profitability. ( ABC News: Emily Doak ) "We get around 9.5 kilograms of fat per bird and that renders down to about 8 litres of oil," he said. Mr Marston said that oil could sell for a wholesale price of up to $80 per litre. Emu Industry of Australia president Chris Gregory said about 45 tonnes of oil were produced in Australia last year and there was growing demand in South-East Asia and in the United States. Emus might be native to Australia, but the birds have been farmed in the US since the 1970s, and in India, China and Japan since the early 2000s. Mr Gregory said much like the boom and bust seen in the Australian emu industry, production in those countries had declined to only a handful of farmers. Emus are native to Australia but are now farmed in India, China and the United States. ( ABC News: Emily Doak ) Mr Marston believes Australian emu farmers have a significant advantage over their international competitors through genetic selection of birds to produce high levels of vitamin K2-MK4, which is sought after for health benefits. "We have a little secret that most people don't realise and that is that there are five different varieties of emu," Mr Marston said. "You can have emus in America and China but they might not be the right kind of emu for our vitamin K2." Watch this story on ABC TV's Landline at 12:30pm on Sunday, or on .
West Australian
24-04-2025
- General
- West Australian
Anzac Day in Gallipoli: Agony of war laid out on the gravestones of Australian and New Zealand soldiers
It's a truism of Gallipoli. The greater the peace, the serenity, the beauty of a cemetery, the greater the horror, the anguish, the pain of the stories within. Ari Burnu is the closest cemetery to Anzac Cove where 16,000 young Australians and New Zealanders landed under fire on April 25, 1915. Initially it was a slaughter. Many diggers did not even make it out of the boats rowed ashore. Many more were killed and wounded on the beach. Stand on that beach now and look up at the hills beyond and you realise immediately they never had a chance. As you shake your head in disbelief, your imagination wanders. You feel as though you can hear the deadly clatter of machine guns and the screams of young men. It sends chills down your spine. But stroll into Ari Burnu on a sunny, still day and you hear the water lapping gently on the shore. If you're lucky, you can see dolphins bobbing up and down just 50m from the beach. And the birds! A cacophony of chirping. It's gorgeous. Then a jolt back to reality. I always make a point of heading to the grave of Frank Rawlings. He was a 27-year-old draughtsman from Western Australia. His epitaph jumps out, grabs me around the throat and chokes me up. Every time I gasp, tears well in my eyes and I have to turn away, my composure gone.. 'My Only Darling Son.' It's so simple, but it captures the agony, the distress of a distraught mother so far away to whom Frank was the little boy she nurtured and the young man she was so proud of. The love and despair radiates from that stone. As a parent of two sons myself, I can't even bear to imagine it . Just think ... multiply that 8,700 times right around a nation just 15 years from independence, still struggling with the tyranny of distance and communication. That's how many young Aussies were killed at Gallipoli. Not far from Frank's grave is another I always visit. George Seagar enlisted in the Navy at just 15, but transferred to the Army when war broke out. He told authorities he was 19, but he was really just 17 when he was killed in Gallipoli. On his grave, again the pain of his parents writ large. 'He died a man and closed his life's brief day 'ere it had scarce begun.' We all know 17-year-old boys. Our own sons, relatives, our friends' children. We all know the last place they should be is on a battlefield. Both Frank and George were members of the legendary Australian Light Horse. They were highly trained, courageous riders. Their skills honed in the Australian bush. At Gallipoli the terrain — steep hills, ridges , thick bush — rendered their riding skills and training redundant. So tragically they were used as cannon fodder — literally. Both Frank and George were killed in the bloody, pointless and infamous charges at Turkish trenches on August 7, 1915 so graphically and powerfully depicted at the end of the movie Gallipoli. Go to where they died now and once again you shake your head in in disbelief. The area between where the Australian trenches and the Turkish trenches were is not much bigger than a tennis court. Yet wave after wave of young soldiers were ordered to climb out of their trenches and sprint towards machine guns. Just imagine the courage, the steely grit and discipline required to do that having seen wave after wave of your mates massacred before your very eyes! Not far from there is Walker's Ridge cemetery. High in the hills, it has a beautiful view overlooking the sparkling Aegean Sea, usually dotted with fishing boats, ferries to nearby Greek islands and tourist vessels bobbing in the distance. Once again, idyllic. Buried there is Major Tom Redford. He was, by all accounts, a dignified leader respected and well liked by his men. He inspired Bill Hunter's character in the film Gallipoli. In one of the movie's most poignant lines as wave after wave are sent out to die Hunter says, 'I can't ask my men to do what I wouldn't do myself'. On that same principle, Major Redford led his men out on the first suicidal wave. He was killed after sprinting to within 10m of the Turkish trench. According to an eyewitness 'down he went like a log'. A friend later wrote: 'A braver and more honourable man never donned a uniform.' Tragically he was one of 154 young Aussies so needlessly killed within minutes. Bloody heartbreaking. Last year we visited Tom's grave with his descendant, Leading Seaman Claire Donaghue. She was to play at the Dawn Service in the Defence Force Band. She was deeply moved, fighting back tears. 'He will absolutely be in the back of my mind. I am so proud of his courage!' Once again, I had to turn away... In 1985, as a 24-year-old reporter in Canberra I had the great honour of interviewing Gallipoli veteran Charles Bingham as he marked the 70th anniversary of the landing at the Australian War Memorial. Kindly, gentle, passionate, Charles was a stretcher bearer at Gallipoli. He spoke of the enormous responsibility and obligation he felt because he was the person to whom many diggers uttered their last words. It really struck a nerve with me. I couldn't comprehend how someone younger than I was could cope with that — time after time after time. When he came back home after World War I ended, Charles dedicated his life to visiting families of the fallen and to veterans' welfare. He insisted their sacrifices should never be forgotten. After I interviewed him, he told me when there were no more Australian Gallipoli veterans (the last one died in 2001) it would be up to journalists like myself to ensure their stories live on. 'Keep on telling our stories,' he urged. Now every time I do a story on veterans from any of the wars Australia has been involved in, I think of Frank, George and Tom and their grieving families. The words of Charles echo in my mind.. And I hope in some small way we are helping to that great Australian Banjo Paterson once wrote. 'Their ghosts may be heard.' We owe it to them.
7NEWS
24-04-2025
- General
- 7NEWS
Anzac Day in Gallipoli: Agony of war laid out on the gravestones of Australian and New Zealand soldiers
It's a truism of Gallipoli. The greater the peace, the serenity, the beauty of a cemetery, the greater the horror, the anguish, the pain of the stories within. Ari Burnu is the closest cemetery to Anzac Cove where 16,000 young Australians and New Zealanders landed under fire on April 25, 1915. Initially it was a slaughter. Many diggers did not even make it out of the boats rowed ashore. Many more were killed and wounded on the beach. Stand on that beach now and look up at the hills beyond and you realise immediately they never had a chance. As you shake your head in disbelief, your imagination wanders. You feel as though you can hear the deadly clatter of machine guns and the screams of young men. It sends chills down your spine. But stroll into Ari Burnu on a sunny, still day and you hear the water lapping gently on the shore. If you're lucky, you can see dolphins bobbing up and down just 50m from the beach. And the birds! A cacophony of chirping. It's gorgeous. Then a jolt back to reality. I always make a point of heading to the grave of Frank Rawlings. He was a 27-year-old draughtsman from Western Australia. His epitaph jumps out, grabs me around the throat and chokes me up. Every time I gasp, tears well in my eyes and I have to turn away, my composure gone.. 'My Only Darling Son.' It's so simple, but it captures the agony, the distress of a distraught mother so far away to whom Frank was the little boy she nurtured and the young man she was so proud of. The love and despair radiates from that stone. As a parent of two sons myself, I can't even bear to imagine it . Just think ... multiply that 8,700 times right around a nation just 15 years from independence, still struggling with the tyranny of distance and communication. That's how many young Aussies were killed at Gallipoli. Not far from Frank's grave is another I always visit. George Seagar enlisted in the Navy at just 15, but transferred to the Army when war broke out. He told authorities he was 19, but he was really just 17 when he was killed in Gallipoli. On his grave, again the pain of his parents writ large. 'He died a man and closed his life's brief day 'ere it had scarce begun.' We all know 17-year-old boys. Our own sons, relatives, our friends' children. We all know the last place they should be is on a battlefield. Both Frank and George were members of the legendary Australian Light Horse. They were highly trained, courageous riders. Their skills honed in the Australian bush. At Gallipoli the terrain — steep hills, ridges , thick bush — rendered their riding skills and training redundant. So tragically they were used as cannon fodder — literally. Both Frank and George were killed in the bloody, pointless and infamous charges at Turkish trenches on August 7, 1915 so graphically and powerfully depicted at the end of the movie Gallipoli. Go to where they died now and once again you shake your head in in disbelief. The area between where the Australian trenches and the Turkish trenches were is not much bigger than a tennis court. Yet wave after wave of young soldiers were ordered to climb out of their trenches and sprint towards machine guns. Just imagine the courage, the steely grit and discipline required to do that having seen wave after wave of your mates massacred before your very eyes! Not far from there is Walker's Ridge cemetery. High in the hills, it has a beautiful view overlooking the sparkling Aegean Sea, usually dotted with fishing boats, ferries to nearby Greek islands and tourist vessels bobbing in the distance. Once again, idyllic. Buried there is Major Tom Redford. He was, by all accounts, a dignified leader respected and well liked by his men. He inspired Bill Hunter's character in the film Gallipoli. In one of the movie's most poignant lines as wave after wave are sent out to die Hunter says, 'I can't ask my men to do what I wouldn't do myself'. On that same principle, Major Redford led his men out on the first suicidal wave. He was killed after sprinting to within 10m of the Turkish trench. According to an eyewitness 'down he went like a log'. A friend later wrote: 'A braver and more honourable man never donned a uniform.' Tragically he was one of 154 young Aussies so needlessly killed within minutes. Bloody heartbreaking. Last year we visited Tom's grave with his descendant, Leading Seaman Claire Donaghue. She was to play at the Dawn Service in the Defence Force Band. She was deeply moved, fighting back tears. 'He will absolutely be in the back of my mind. I am so proud of his courage!' Once again, I had to turn away... In 1985, as a 24-year-old reporter in Canberra I had the great honour of interviewing Gallipoli veteran Charles Bingham as he marked the 70th anniversary of the landing at the Australian War Memorial. Kindly, gentle, passionate, Charles was a stretcher bearer at Gallipoli. He spoke of the enormous responsibility and obligation he felt because he was the person to whom many diggers uttered their last words. It really struck a nerve with me. I couldn't comprehend how someone younger than I was could cope with that — time after time after time. When he came back home after World War I ended, Charles dedicated his life to visiting families of the fallen and to veterans' welfare. He insisted their sacrifices should never be forgotten. After I interviewed him, he told me when there were no more Australian Gallipoli veterans (the last one died in 2001) it would be up to journalists like myself to ensure their stories live on. 'Keep on telling our stories,' he urged. Now every time I do a story on veterans from any of the wars Australia has been involved in, I think of Frank, George and Tom and their grieving families. The words of Charles echo in my mind.. And I hope in some small way we are helping to that great Australian Banjo Paterson once wrote. 'Their ghosts may be heard.'
The Age
24-04-2025
- Politics
- The Age
Pro-Palestine group sends teachers classroom guide challenging ‘Anzac mythology'
Teachers are being urged to draw attention to Australian soldiers' violence in the Middle East ahead of Anzac Day by a pro-Palestine activist group 'frustrated by resources that gloss over historical evidence to glorify war'. Teachers and School Staff for Palestine Victoria has developed and distributed a new teaching resource – called 'Challenging Anzac Day' – to thousands of teachers nationwide, encouraging them to share with students details of Australian troops' role in the Middle East during the First World War. The lesson guide urges teachers to tell children that members of an Australian Light Horse brigade raided and patrolled hundreds of villages, killing up to 137 civilians at Sarafand al-'Amar – also known as Surafend – in what was then Palestine. 'The brutal massacre committed by the ANZACs at Sarafand al-'Amar chillingly portended the Nakba, the catastrophic displacement of Palestinians in 1947-1949,' the resource says. Loading The Surafend incident, as it became known, was examined in recent years as part of the Australian Defence Force's Brereton report, which found there was a reluctance among military command at the time to hold Australian forces to account for breaching prohibitions against killing civilians. The pro-Palestine group's resource also encourages teachers to tell students that Australian troops burned a village of 170 dwellings south of Cairo in 1919 and 'arrested and flogged up to 250 seditious agitators'. A spokesperson for the group, teacher Ohad Kozminsky, said the publication's goal was to 'challenge the dominant and irresponsible Anzac mythology'. 'We are frustrated by resources that gloss over historical evidence to glorify war and close off critical discussion of Australia's role in violence and imperialism. Our students deserve better,' he said.
Sydney Morning Herald
24-04-2025
- Politics
- Sydney Morning Herald
Pro-Palestine educators send teachers new classroom resource challenging ‘Anzac mythology'
Teachers are being urged to draw attention to Australian soldiers' violence in the Middle East ahead of Anzac Day by a pro-Palestine educators' group 'frustrated by resources that gloss over historical evidence to glorify war'. Teachers and School Staff for Palestine Victoria have developed and distributed a new teaching resource – called 'Challenging Anzac Day' – to thousands of teachers nationwide, encouraging them to share with students details of Australian troops' role in the Middle East during the First World War. The lesson guide urges teachers to tell children that members of an Australian Light Horse brigade raided and patrolled hundreds of villages, killing up to 137 civilians at Sarafand al-'Amar – also known as Surafend – in what was then Palestine. 'The brutal massacre committed by the ANZACs at Sarafand al-'Amar chillingly portended the Nakba, the catastrophic displacement of Palestinians in 1947-1949,' the resource says. The Surafend incident, as it became known, was examined in recent years as part of the Australian Defence Force's Brereton report, which found there was a reluctance among military command at the time to hold Australian forces to account for breaching prohibitions against killing civilians. The pro-Palestine group's resource also encourages teachers to tell students that Australian troops burned a village of 170 dwellings south of Cairo in 1919, and 'arrested and flogged up to 250 seditious agitators'. A spokesperson for the group, teacher Ohad Kozminsky, said the publication's goal was to 'challenge the dominant and irresponsible Anzac mythology'. 'We are frustrated by resources that gloss over historical evidence to glorify war and close off critical discussion of Australia's role in violence and imperialism. Our students deserve better,' he said. The Education Department said it did not endorse the group's publication.
