I have been in a number of places where I have developed a real sense of community, but none affected me more than my years of service with the RAAF. Up to that point I had always lived near home and worked at standard type jobs.  After my big adventure, a three-year working holiday overseas which included a visit to my country of birth, Wales, or as they say Cymru, I developed a taste for travel and adventure, so of course I could not resume my usual type of work.

I applied for Army Navy and Air Force - my logic was, apply for all three and one is bound to come up. All offered a different lifestyle and work plus travel.  Each application resulted in a compulsory medical examination, ironically with the same medical facility. Well, it backfired, as I was accepted for all three!!!!  A decision had to be made and, after days of deliberation, I chose the RAAF. 

After my application was processed, I was flown from my home in Western Australia to Melbourne. Billeted in Tottenham, I was put through three months of vigorous training. Lots of marching, physical fitness training and lectures but, above all, learning to respond to commands instantly and correctly, which is essential in conflicts or emergency situations. We learnt to iron our clothes correctly, polish our shoes to a mirror shine you could see your face in and to survive the weekly room inspections, known laughingly as ‘panic night’. We helped each other, covered for each other, and became a real community.

The marching was hilarious!  Thirty awkward, uncoordinated young women trying to look professional, some who couldn’t tell their left foot from their right. We had a female drill sergeant with the loudest voice in history who bellowed, yelled and pointed out the error of our ways. Of course, we had the obligatory ‘talk’ on the dangers of fraternization. We had a curfew and had to be in our beds in the barracks by 10pm or we were in trouble. We joked about what happened after 10pm that wouldn’t happen before. We all had chores and one of the dreaded ones on the roster was cleaning the bathrooms. We hated loo cleaning duty.  Friendships were formed, we learnt how to be a team and help each other. We learnt self-discipline and to depend on each other. Some of us gave up and returned home, but the rest of us forged on and were rewarded with a celebration dinner and official passing out parade. The aforesaid drill sergeant suddenly became human, congratulating us on our efforts and wishing us well in our future careers.

My first unit was here in Melbourne, I was billeted in Mont Albert at the RAAF unit known as Frognall, awful name, posh suburb. I also worked between Vic Barracks, Grattan Street and Bourke Street Security units, then bases in Queensland, South Australia, and Western Australia.  I absolutely loved the life. I made so many friends, I learnt to rely on myself, my instincts and my training, taking those life lessons through to my civilian career after leaving the RAAF.  I had lots of experiences such as VIP escort, guarding an aircraft, and got way too close in Russell Street when the bomb went off. Lots of fun times too, good friends and even found a husband, quite by accident, but that’s another story.  
 
Heather Hartland
May 2022

Around 1989/1990 I met two friends, Gill and Joan, who shared a flat in Camberwell.  At that time my husband and I were living up in the hills near Warburton.  We often met in a Camberwell coffee lounge where we had made friends with the owners.  Gill was a civilian cataloger in Victoria Barracks, St Kilda Road where I had worked whilst in the RAAF, so we had something in common. Both Gill and Joan loved cats, as I do, so another link assisted the friendship. I was working in Richmond with a haberdashery wholesaler. The three of us became firm friends, visiting each other, getting together for events, and so on.

My husband and I moved around a lot, but eventually we ended up in a house in East Burwood.  Joan and Gill had moved into a house a few streets away.  The friendship was getting stronger.  Then life got in the way.  Gill met Andrew, married and moved to Maryborough.  Joan also left that house and at about the same time Paul and I purchased a house in Sunbury.  We kept in contact with Gill, but lost contact with Joan.

The years rolled on and I changed jobs. I now worked in an office tower in Bourke Street. The fire evacuation alarm went off.  My two work colleagues and I went down the fire stairs to the meeting point, got our names checked off, then sneaked into a nearby coffee lounge to grab some morning tea.  While waiting for our order, in walked Joan. Wow, what a surprise.  She had left the trams, met and married hubby Phil and was now living in Maribyrnong.  She too had changed jobs.  We exchanged phone numbers before leaving. It had been almost 10 years, I think.

A few weeks later, Joan and Phil met Paul and I and we all got on really well.  It was the start of a long and wonderful friendship. Our two husbands shared a hobby.  They both loved model trains, joined a club in Sunbury and had boys’ days out.  Joan and I were both into crafts, so we would head up to Bendigo Woollen Mills, Maldon Quilting Shop and more for a girl’s day out.

As neither of us had children and family were far away, we would get together at Christmas and dine at a lovely pub in Maldon, or at each other’s houses.  We spent many happy hours together.  Joan at this time worked at RMH, so she and I would meet for breakfast in Melbourne, often shopping at the Victoria markets before heading to work.  Paul worked in Heidelberg and Phil at the airport, so they weren’t able to join us.
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Joan and I are still friends and now both live here in Benalla. We’ve had our ups and downs, helped each other through bad times and celebrated the good. Our friendship remains strong. Hopefully it will continue for some years yet.


Heather Hartland
​May 2022