As we all read, and hear, everyday, yet another generation of kids have learn’t the meaning of the word ‘war’.
When I was a child in Australia it was ‘Vietnam’. That word was everywhere; in the news, in the papers, our parents spoke about it to friends, relatives and neighbours…it seemed to be the keyword for the late 60′s and early 70′s.

At school, I didn’t know any other kids whose Dads or brothers were over there and I suppose that was a good thing. I remember seeing the daily coverage on the news at night and thinking that I was lucky that Vietnam had not paid my little world a visit, or affected it.
Until 1970 when my Dad announced he was going. Not as a soldier, but to entertain the troops there.

My Dad, George Raymond, was a Professional Entertainer. A comedian, a compere and a violinist, he had been in Showbiz since the late 1930′s and had appeared in shows at places like the old Tivoli in Sydney. In the 1950′s he was a well known personality at venues in Surfers Paradise with his own dance band and Cabaret. This band included John Goldner (pianist) and Frank Simpson (clarinet).

In the 1960′s Dad established himself in Sydney around the clubs as a regular and popular performer, often touring for his agent George Hilder, and playing all over NSW and in Victoria. In 1973 he even ‘had’ a Number One hit on the charts when he played backing fiddle on the single ‘The Goondiwindi Grey’ with the great Country music legend Tex Morton. I had the privilege of sitting in on that recording session. In 1970 he received an offer from the ABC to be a member of it’s concert party for a tour of Vietnam and he accepted.

I remember the day I heard Dad telling an acquaintance that he was going over there. I was 7 years old and for the first time I discovered what real fear felt like. Kids that age are not supposed to ‘worry’ about things but that’s when I learn’t the meaning of the word.

Prior to the trip the entire band came over to our house in North Manly on a Saturday for a rehearsal. I had invited a friend over for the day and we sat on the floor (there was no room for seats as our whole lounge room was covered in musical equipment) and we were treated to an ear splitting experience!.
The band went through their songs; Dad went through his ‘routine’ and I recall feeling so proud of him. I was used to seeing Dad in rehearsal and performance, but this was somewhat different. For some reason after that day, I didn’t worry so much about what would happen to him over there.

We saw the troupe off at Sydney Airport and there was a party held for them in a function room before they left. Dad smoked a cigar that night, unusual for him as he always smoked Camel cigs, and I got singed on it…I still have the scar today!. Going home in the taxi later, Mum was very quiet and I can only wonder what must have been going though her mind. The element of danger was, of course, great for them even though they were Entertainers.

When Dad returned from ‘Nam he brought with him the usual stash of presents for Mum, me and my sister. There was a teeny, tiny little portable B/W tv that he had to pay a small fortune in duty for at Customs. And a beautiful little traditional Vietnamese doll…I wish I could remember what happened to it.
A rather unpleasant thing he also returned with was this nasty red rash on his leg that took months to go away, probably a side effect of the many chemicals that were sprayed everywhere in Vietnam during that time.

He told us about the orphanage he visited. Dad took along sweets for the kids and wasn’t able to spend too long with them…he found the whole environment so distressing but praised those looking after the children.

He also told us that Bob Hope, the famous American comedian who also toured there, reads all his jokes off cue cards!.

Well, that was my ‘experience’ with Vietnam, the first and only time that ‘war’ had anything to do with my life. I came off better than many Australian and American kids did, those who lost their Dads. I hope that people like Dad brought some laughter and fun into those sweltering days during that time to those fellows stuck there. Fighting gods knows whatever it was.
But the outcome was lucky with regards to my Dad.

Because mine came home.

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