Trevor Edwards and Adam Muir, talk about their fathers, Bill Edwards and Leo Maxwell Muir whon were Aboriginal returned servicemen in World War 2 and Vietnam. They were featured in the book Forgotten Heroes. With an introduction from May Owen.

Original interview with Trevor Edwards and Adam Muir by Renee Owens at 3YYR Studio for the radio program ‘Koori Hour’, broadcast Anzac Day 1993. Introduction with Leo’s sister, May Owen, recorded by Murphy McLachlan 25/11/2010.

Click here for photographs: Leo Maxwell Muir and Leo Maxwell Muir at training camp in NSW

Further Information

TRANSCRIPT

May Owen: The book Forgotten Heroes, was first published in 1993, and it’s about all those Aboriginal people in Victoria, who served in the Wars, and when, they returned from the war, from the earlier wars, they weren’t recognised, they weren’t in, they weren’t entitled to the same benefits of other Australian soldiers, of acquiring land, or housing, but, the Vietnam, by the time the Vietnam War came, it was different.

In this program, two sons of Aboriginal returned servicemen speak about their fathers, who are both featured in Forgotten Heroes. The second is Adam Muir, speaking about his father, Leo Max Muir, and the first is Trevor Edwards, talking about his father, Bill Edwards.

Renee Owens: Trevor’s father, Bill, Edwards, served in New Guinea during World War II. Kevin was surprised to read about the hardships his dad experienced in the War, because his dad hasn’t talked about, it much.

Trevor Edwards: Yes, in regards, you know, Dad not talking about the War very much, I think it’s probably contributed to, you know, coming back, to working pretty hard, and raising a family, and not sort of having time to sort of sit down and talk about it, but, and I guess also, being so young, going to war, I think that he was only 16 when he enlisted.

I guess going back in those days there was not much else around sort of thing, that you’d sort of give a, stability in lifestyle sort of thing but I didn’t think, I don’t think they realised what they were letting themselves in for, in the end, but given that, that he’s, you know, being joined it so young, the War, I guess for most of the returned soldiers had, and had given up a lot of their youth, so given that I think, you know, there’s, well a lot of the returned soldiers obviously, well I guess and from, I know from Dad’s perspective I think there’s a fair bit of bitterness, in regards to it.

So you know that’s, this is probably why that this has very little, is said about it, and it’s something that I feel that returned soldiers who, they’re un, well, unsung heroes as such, oh just the fact of going to war to fight for their families and country and returning, so I think that, in itself, is a magnificent achievement.

Renee Owens: That was Trevor Edwards, talking about his father, World War II veteran, Bill Edwards. Our second speaker is Adam Muir.

Adam Muir: My name is Adam Muir. I am the son of Leo Maxwell Muir. His story, among many others, is included in the book, forgotten Heroes, Aborigines at War, from the Somme, to Vietnam, this is his story.

Leo Maxwell Muir served in Vietnam. The men who went to Vietnam, talk of their experiences with reluctance, if at all. It is hard to get to the heart of a man, or the story of his war, but Margaret, Leo’s wife of 17 years, gave us documents. She wanted Leo’s story included, in this book.

Leo’s eulogy said he was a family man, his veteran friends said he was a good soldier, older by 10 years than most of the Australians in Vietnam. He was a mentor, a drinker, the trickster, with a smile, who loved the good times, loved life, and brought cheer to weary soldiers.

Of his tour of duty the eulogy said: “Leo was instrumental in establishing the Geelong Vietnam Association, he was a soldier prepared to pay the ultimate price for his beloved Australia”. In 1979 Leo was studying, and was asked to submit an English assignment, and self profile. With permission from Margaret Muir, we reproduce an edited version of that profile, it is the story of the man behind Leo Muir, the soldier.

[reads]

“I was born, on the 17th of June, 1945, to William and Midge Muir, the oldest child in a family of six. As an Aboriginal youngster, I lived as a fringe dweller on the outskirts of Mooroopna, by the banks of the Goulburn River, in a tin humpy, like so many of my people at that time. It seemed that most Aboriginal people were unskilled workers in white society, and were employed throughout the area as pickers in orchards, or in tomato or pea paddocks. To most this was a way of life, and survival, but I vowed in later years that this was not for me.

With my grandparents we moved into the township, and lived in a Commission house for most of my state school days. This was after living in converted stables and barns, around the area. At that time this did not seem degrading to me, as this was a way of life and what, one made the best of what one had.

I learned to read, write, and played sport. Sport was to become my greatest asset, and created many avenues of social intercourse, in white society. Getting to know whites, was in itself an education, as I had to learn tolerance, and humility, if I wanted to better myself. Out of the Army, and back into my trade, I moved from factory to factory, gaining experience, four years later I married.

Within the first 12 months of marriage, aged 27, I suffered a heart attack. It was at this time I decided there was no future for me in Melbourne, with my wife and young son I moved to Geelong, where with the assistance of a War Service loan we acquired our own home.

I became discontented with my employment, I’d been a panel beater for 15 years, and I longed to try some other field, more academic studies, and two years later I became a fully qualified trade instructor, teaching apprentice panel beaters at Geelong East Technical School.

May Owen: Leo concluded his report saying: “It seems one never stops learning, memoirs perhaps, but when one looks back, it has been a pretty interesting life, with never a dull moment”.

May Owen:He was always striving, striving to better himself, and he always saw education as the tool, as well as his sporting abilities, and achievements, it was actually his sporting abilities that got him, noticed and recognised, and so even when he was in the Army he was a physical instructor, for the soldiers in doing their game, their exercises.

But he never talked about what he did, there, as many of those Vietnam veterans, they don’t talk about it, they, well they talk to each other, but they don’t talk to anybody else, outside their own circles, you’re talking about his good mates, and the friendships that he had, so but he didn’t talk about the War, itself but he, in what he has, what he did do, as a result of Vietnam, and so he had, a long, life long friendships, established his long, lifetime friendships.

When he came back, he fitted in quite well, because he fitted in well before he went away, but he wanted to move, he came to Geelong, because his best mate was here, this is Laurie, his best mate was here, and the plan was they could buy a home, with the War Service loan, so he sort of moved on from there, and then, this is where he decided he wanted, he still wanted to have some more education, and he did two years’ training, so that he could teach his trade, in panel beating, at the East Geelong Tech he taught, young fellas to be panel beaters.

He formed this friendship in Geelong, with other Vietnam veterans, and they… and Leo was one of the foundation members, of the Geelong Veterans, Vietnam Veterans’ Association, in which there was about a dozen of them at the time, and today there’s something like, 300, 300 of them.

And of course when he died, unexpectedly, at 42, the funeral was one of the, it was probably the biggest I’ve been to, but Geelong does have, from time to time, very big funerals, so there would have been hundreds of people there, and it sort of said a lot for the big man, he was a big man, he had a big voice, a big personality, and when he was, when the funeral procession moved from, well, the centre, it went past his, the high school that he taught at, and there’s this, the streets were lined with, there’s an honour-guard, on both sides of the roads with all the secondary school students, and there were even police on the corners, had to stop the traffic, for Leo to pass by, so we often think that: “Gee, he would have been chuffed to know that the police were on the corners, directing traffic, to let him go past, so yes, but he’s, so he’s still remembered, you know, though we talk about the forgotten heroes, and those others in War, and sometimes they’re really they’re, some Vietnam Vets were, forgotten; he was part of the big welcome home procession in Sydney, years later, when they decide to recognise the Vets, and that was a, one of the highlights that he was able to go to Sydney, and meet up with a lot of vets he hadn’t seen for a long time, but mm, so it’s a good story.

Copyright: Gwlad McLachlan, Available for download for personal use.