Robert Francis Clarke

   Cause of his death was carcinoma of the rectum.

   Another name for Robert was Bob.

  General Notes:

by Wendy Clarke nee Phillips, wife of Robert George (Bob) Clarke

Robert Francis is listed as first being in attendance at Kilkoy State School in 1925, aged 5 years 9 months. (Source: Kilkoy State School - the first one hundred years commemorative issue. See research notes for details.)

As told to Wendy by Bob Clarke.

When Dad left the army after WW2 he retrained as a painter. He couldn't get enough work in Brisbane so he went looking for work as a timber cutter on Frazer Island. He and George Parsons, my uncle, bicycled from Brisbane to Hervey Bay, and cut timber on Frazer for about 12 months while Mum and I lived in a rented house in Zephyr Street. They then bought a house in Main Street, Pialba, when dad took up painting again. Over the years Dad was involved in school P & C activities, the RSL and training the local football team, the Seagulls. He also had a lovely singing voice and was much in demand on social occasions in the Bay for a song. We had many a party under our house at Main Street after the Sunday football matches. The old piano would be rolled out onto the back lawn from under the house and we'd sing and dance until 10 or so, with one proviso. We were approached by the local Methodist Minister across the road from our house (so close I used to shoot starlings off the ridge cap). Our festivities were having a detrimental effect on his sermons - nobody could hear a word - so he asked us if we could keep things quiet from 7 pm until after his evening service ended at 8.

Although we weren't a church-going family (a backlash from my father's overly strict religious upbringing) Mum used to read us bible stories and they both taught us the difference between right and wrong the old-fashioned way with a clip under the ear when we needed it. I did dally briefly with religion when I started school, until Dad said, “What would you rather do - go to Sunday School or go fishing?” (See my wife Wendy's story Gone Fishing on her web site at www.wendyclarke.com for a story about our fishing adventures.) Regardless of his own beliefs Dad could see the minister's side of things, so we complied with his request. The minister would give us a yell and a wave as he was leaving and the festivities would resume. (The Presbyterian Church has since been relocated and is now on the grounds of the museum, and if you look closely enough you can still see infinitesimal dents in the ridge cap from my air rifle).

Over the years as I grew old enough to be useful I helped Dad paint many a building in the Bay, some more memorable than others, such as Miss Hosborough's house. She was a descendant of captain Bligh and lived on the Esplanade at Point Vernon in what I thought of as a magical house with many mysterious nooks and crannies. Dad's contracting mates were a bunch of larrikins at heart, like him. They constantly played trick on each other at work. The painters would paint the carpenters' hammers on the bottom side so when they picked them up they got a fist full of paint, though the carpenters got their revenge. They'd nail the paintbrushes onto the trestle planks so they couldn't pick them up! The apprentices were fair game, being sent for such things as a left-handed screwdriver, etc. so when Dad told his apprentice, Kevvy Redunce, to go to the hardware store and pick up the spotted paint he'd ordered for the cafeteria, Kev told him to go to buggery - what sort of idiot did he think he was? However, there actually WAS such a thing as spotted paint - a mix of colours that didn't quite blend. They sprayed it on the cafeteria wall at the caravan park near Urangan Pier.

He never missed the Anzac Day service in Maryborough and a chance to catch up with old mates afterwards at the RSL Club. Coming home from the service one year Dad and Billy Blake were later than usual, and mum asked the local sergeant to find out if they were ok. He came back and said yeah, they were ok. They'd run the car off the road and landed on the bull rushes at Susan River, but he didn't want to disturb them as they were telling war stories and still had half a case of beer. "But don't worry, Ol, they'll be home safe and sound as soon as they sober up." Lucky Dad's little car was a light-weight Morris ute or they might have been under the bull rushes, not on top of them!

I left home as soon as I turned 15 to take up employment with the Commonwealth Bank in Sydney, and shortly afterwards Mum and Dad left the Bay and came to Newcastle. They always claimed it was to be near me, and weren't happy with me when I was transferred to New Guinea for three years straight after they got there. The truth was, though, that Dad had got himself in a bit of a bind between the tax man and the 60's credit squeeze, and rather than go publicly broke in front of the rest of the family he opted to leave.

In spite of the pranks he played on his fellow workmates, my memories of him are of a self-contained, very private man; for instance I never knew he wrote poetry and have never seen any of his work. I only heard about it at his funeral from some old wartime mates of his. Nevertheless, he was a loyal and faithful husband and loving father, and he left a big gap in our lives when he died. I'll be there at dawn every Anzac Day for as long as I'm around, and continue to wear his medals with pride.

A bit about my father's service in WW2: His certificate of Discharge No. 233578 states that he served on continuous full war time service in the Australian Imperial Force from 20 Mar 1941 to 5 Nov 1945 for a total effective period of one thousand six hundred and seventy days, which included active service in Australia for 734 days, outside Australia for 837 days. He first served in the Middle East - mainly Tobruk, Palestine, Syria and Turkey, a brief stint back in Australia where he married my mother, then on to Papua New Guinea, starting in Milne Bay, then Salamaua and Red beach. He lost two mates in the Battle of Lae, shot while crossing the Busu River, D J Allan and Vic Royal, who are buried in the war cemetery at Lae. I have photos of their graves, taken while I was in New Guinea in the 60's with the Commonwealth Bank. He then went on to Finschafen and Sio near Madang, where he was shot in the legs and repatriated home.

Description of the Soldier on Discharge: Height 5 ft. 9 ½ ins. Eyes Brown Complexion Fair Hair Brown.

  Research Notes:

Book: Kilkoy State School - the first one hundred years 1892-1992 commemorative issue, including the closed small schools of Gregor's Creek, Sheep Station Creek, Stanley River, Villeneuve, West Vale, Winya, Woolmar and Yednia.

  Some facts about his life:

• Education: Primary school Kilkoy QLD.

• Religion: baptised in the Church of England.

• Occupation: timber worker, soldier, house painter.

• Cremation, 15 Oct 1998, Great Southern Garden Of Remembrance Crematorium, Carbrook, Queensland, Australia. ⁵ Bob's ashes were scattered by his son, Bob, and daughter-in-law, Wendy, at Stoney Creek, Kilkoy.

Robert married Olive Minnie Parsons, daughter of Walter Albert Parsons and Lillian Kate Bolton, on 13 Mar 1943 in Redcliffe, Queensland, Australia.^{1 2} (Olive Minnie Parsons was born on 13 Oct 1924 in Sydney, New South Wales, Australia ⁶.)