Farewell to My Good Mate, Max

Last night when we checked into our hotel, we noticed a group of people looking rather haggard. They were the participants in this year’s Queensland Variety Bash travelling from St George in Central Queensalnd to Port Macquarie – an arduous drive of ten days.

Variety Bash cars must be a minimum 25 years old . They can be any type of vehicle – the only rule is that they are 2WD.  Thei Bash website says “The Variety Bash is Australia’s longest running and most iconic charity motoring event. Known for fun, flare and fanfare, it’s always a sight to behold when the Variety Bash comes to town! Every year, thousands of kids who are sick, disadvantaged, or living with a disability get support from Variety when they need it most. Through events like the Variety Bash, your support helps deliver grants, scholarships, programs, and experiences to help these kids reach their full potential and have a fair go in life”.

Our main objective today was to say a goodbye to my old mate Max Dong who died three few weeks ago. We had actually set today aside to visit him at his home at Upper Rollands Plains, so, even though he is no longer alive, we drove out to his house to have one last look at his place.

I first met Max Dong, nicknamed ‘Dongy’ (or Maxwell, as his sister called him) when we were both posted to 87 Transport Platoon RAASC in 1968 at Puckapunyal prior to our departure to Vietnam in early 1969. 

He was an affable and somewhat eccentric person who wore round ‘John Lennon’ type sunglasses and was happy just to be involved. When asked if he wanted a turn to drive, he would mostly say “No, you drive, I’ll just come along. To avoid being seen and tasked with some stupid job, we spent more than  a few hours lying under our trucks in the transport compound throwing pebbles at each other.

In Vietnam, Max was posted as a driver to 1AFH Field Hospital. As a rather sensitive person, driving deceased soldiers in an ambulance to the airport for repatriation home was a tough job for him.

We lost contact after returning to Australia and caught up again in 1987 at the Welcome Home Weekend in Sydney. I found him because I knew that his family lived in Seaforth (near Bondi) and with his unusual surname, he wasn’t too hard to track down. We both agreed to attend if each other did and that weekend was a highlight in both of our lives. We caught up with each other and many old friends.

Max had been a heavy drinker of scotch whisky and smoked more than an occasional joint. His doctor later advised him to stop or he woudn’t live past 50 years of age and wisely, he took his doctor’s advice.

Another significant event for us Vietnam Veterans was when the Vietnam Forces National Memorial in Canberra was dedicated and officially opened on October 3, 1992. It was dedicated by the Prime Minister, Paul Keating. At this time, Max was serving time in prison in Cooma. I never knew why he was sentenced to jail and I never asked. After the dedication oif the memorial, a number of us drove down from Canberra to visit him. It was our first experience with prison life and we were shocked – even in that low security environment.

Once out of jail, Max, true to his word, never touched another drop of alcohol. He always liked music – especially Jazz and Blues. He was a great fan of very spicy Malaysian food – especially Rendangs.

Between myself and Pete Fry from Warrnambool , we kept in touch with Max over the years and caught up with each other irregularly but more frequently by phone. Max, joined me on a return trip to Vietnam in the early 2000’s.

So, to say ‘goodbye’, today, we drove to Wauchope and visited the RSL where Max was a member. I had a chat with Bill Wagner who is President of The Vietnam Veterans Assiation there. He had known Max for over 20 years, telling me that Max had made a continuing contribution to veteran’s welfare. 

We drove out to his house at Upper Rollands Plains for a final visit. Obviously no one was there and the house was closed up but it was nice to remember our visits with Max over the years. His house is about 50 km from Port Macquarie in an islolated area up the Wilson River Valley.

I think Max moved initially moved to this place to be something of a recluse and find peace after his time in prison. For some years he lived in a converted dairy and contracted the building of his house some years later. I remember him growing Kentia Palm plants to earn a living. He also had a few cattle which he killed for meat. He said that he sang to them as he killed them because it relaxed them and made the meat more tender. 

Max did a wonderful job for over a decade acting as the sole carer for his elderly mother. She died at 100 years of age.

On August 2, members of his family and some fellow veterans held a service to celebrate his life and spread his ashes in the river near his house. I’m sorry that I could not attend as we were still in FNQ. Farewell old friend. I’ll miss you.

We also had a few hours today to see a couple of picturesque sites around Port Macquarie itself. The view from the Old Gaol lookout in town gave us a good view of the mouth of the Hastings River and one of the town beaches.

At Tacking Point (named by the explorer Mathew Flinders as he circumnavigated Australia) we saw the lighthouse and beach.

The weather has become rainy and chilly this afternoon with strong winds.

Today is our 53rd Wedding Anniversary and we have booked dinner at a nice seafood restaurant to celebrate. I’ll write more about that in another post.