And the Channel Seven chopper chills me to my feet.....I can't honestly say it has that effect on me but it has had a strange lulling effect on what has been a hot summers day. The TV station helicopters mentioned last night have been around all day today. It is 8:30 pm as I write and the whirring of their rotor blades are now filling a balmy might. It's akin to childhood summer sounds of crickets or cicadas - only these are bloody huge ones!
And the Channel Seven chopper chills me to my feet...
That is a line from a song called "I was only 19" written by John Schumann and performed by the Australian band, Redgum. It is a song about Vietnam. It is more than a song, it is a song that when heard in a room full of Vietnam vets, adds a new dimension to the phrase "chilling experience".
A few days ago I mentioned my time as a full time voluntary worker in a homeless men's centre. Many of the residents were Vietnam vets. Like so many who served in Vietnam, their lives had been ruined forever. They experienced things that young men with access to a blog, access to a barely run in brain, sitting on an over-pampered arse, could not imagine as they sit drunk with self righteousness proclaiming such people to be useless.
Never mind the facts - they are homeless, they must be useless scum. Stands to reason don't it.
They would not think of men such as Mike, who if truth be told, was a state-of-the-art drunk. He wasn't always a drunk as so many would be quick to declare. He didn't become one until after he was injured in Vietnam. He was unconscious for days.
At almost the same time he was injured, his wife and two small children were killed in a house fire.
Good morning Mike - do you want the good news or the bad news? The good news is you are going to live. The bad news....
I refer to Mike in the past tense for good reason.
The home was a hollow, cavernous place with accommodation on four levels. Each level was an open "gallery" style. The acoustics were far superior to the Sydney Opera House.
At night the cries and screams of the men would echo around this receptacle of told and untold misery. Sometimes I could not help but laugh - cruel as it may seem. But it was a safety valve. Some vets would cry out to their mates, "Watch it mate, here's another one". Some would give sound effects. I used to joke it was like listening to a John Wayne movie, except in those days, such movies tended to have happy endings.
There was no happy ending for those guys.
One day someone had a radio on in the ground floor kitchen. Through each level the words of "I was Only 19" filled the air. Men stopped to listen. "You could have cut the air with a knife" is a tired old cliche but never has it been more fitting.
"A four week operation, when each step can mean your last one on two legs,
It was a war within yourself.
But you wouldn't let your mates down 'til they had you dusted off,
So you closed your eyes and thought about something else,
Then someone yelled out 'Contact' and the bloke behind me swore,
We hooked in there for hours, then a God Almighty roar,
Frankie kicked a mine the day that Mankind kicked the moon".
Then there were the overhead ceiling fans. Many of the guys hated them as they reminded them of "choppers".
"And can you tell me Doctor why I still can't get to sleep?
And why the Channel 7 chopper chills me to my feet?
And what's this rash that comes and goes,
can you tell me what it means?
God help me, I was only 19."
Maybe the next time someone want to publish a blog that without any knowledge or experience of the topic instantly dismisses homelessness as some sort of chosen lifestyle, they may want to think again. But then again, to such people, thinking is not something they were ever taught to do for themselves.
And sadly, the song is being sung today - just a different gig.
Wherever you may be - be safe!
Photo: Another taken from the train window during my recent trip south of Sydney
