2 days ago
This plaque near a Canberra shopping centre car park offers a window into a family's tragic war story
There are little clues scattered throughout Canberra — a plaque here, a street sign there — pointing to a tragic story of a family that helped forge the nation's capital.
Easily missed, they tell the story of a migrant family, three brothers and a fateful, tragic month.
Englishman Walter Eddison survived a gassing in France during World War I and fighting on the shores of Gallipoli to set up life with his wife, three sons and three daughters on a 750-acre block on what was then the outskirts of Canberra in 1919.
Anthony Hill, historian and author of For the Love of Country which retells the family's tale, said Canberra at that time was still sheep grazing country.
"Canberra was just a beginning settlement — a population of only a few thousand. Just as the Eddisons were arriving did work really start," he said.
But the outbreak of World War II would pause the growth of the capital and draw in the Eddison family.
The three sons left the farm to fight in the war: Tom and Keith as pilots, Jack with the 2/20th Battalion.
In 1941, the family received news that Tom was missing — possibly dead — after being shot down returning from a raid over Germany.
Mr Hill said the Eddisons couldn't find out any information.
Finally, in May 1943, the family received confirmation that Tom had been killed and was buried in the Netherlands.
About the same time, the Canberra Times reported Keith was involved in "[giving] one of the severest hammerings this Japanese-occupied land has yet had".
Just a fortnight later, days after Tom's death was confirmed, Keith was killed in New Guinea.
It was at this time the family also received written correspondence from Jack — a prisoner of war (POW) in the Japanese Naoetsu camp after the fall of Singapore.
The letter gave the family hope Jack would one day return.
"Right through 1943, '44 and '45, they were waiting for Jack to come home," Mr Hill said.
"[They thought], 'When Jack comes back, he'll fix the farm'."
But they didn't receive any more correspondence.
That letter, received in May 1943, would be the last.
Mr Hill said after the news that two of his sons were dead and the other was in a POW camp, Mr Eddison refused to answer the telephone. He couldn't deal with more bad news.
Mr Eddison was working out in a paddock when it rang in 1945.
"Jack wasn't coming home.
"You can imagine the devastating news."
Jack Eddison had died of pneumonia on June 17, 1943, — just a fortnight after Keith had been killed.
Mr Hill said the family's story showed "the real nature of war".
"It was a great tragedy, but they were a stoic, brave family and they carried on," he said.
The brothers' niece, Wendy Townley, grew up always feeling like she knew the uncles she had been too young to remember — from the photos on the walls, and the things they'd left behind.
"They were part of the family," she said.
"This is Jack's horse and Jack's dog and Tom's bed. They were talked about a lot."
Yet her grandfather, Walter, never talked about his sons or the war.
Ms Townley said she never quite understood as a child just what a tragedy it was.
"But you don't ask questions as a kid. I wish I'd asked more about it.
"I don't think it really dawned on me how really horrible it was until I had kids of my own and thought, 'Hell, how could you live with that?'.
"My grandmother was so strong. She was my hero."
Nowadays, the family homestead, called Yamba, has been replaced with a shopping centre.
A plaque near the car park is the only remnant it existed at all.
There are other tributes to the brothers, too.
Mr Hill said the Eddison name was remembered in all sorts of places.
"[Canberra] was named after people," he said.
There's Yamba Drive, Eddison Park in Woden, and a plaque in St John's Church on the pew where Ms Townley and her family used to sit.
"It's lovely the family are remembered," she said.
When Ms Townley's brother sat down to start grade six at Canberra Grammar School — the school has a house called Eddison — he looked down to see the name 'Keith Eddison' carved into his desk.
What many would have discarded as no more than schoolyard graffiti was just another little clue pointing to a most tragic history.
"We're all very proud of the name."
