Ex-serviceman wrongly accused of cowardice

These sorts of thoughts are on the minds of all thinking chaps at the moment. Last weekend saw the 100th anniversary of the departure from Albany of the convoy laden with Australian and New Zealand troops. Our prime minister (and there can be no doubt about how he would have responded in 1914, given his virile love of Empire) was at Albany for the weekend's events.

Well gents, if in 1914 you appeared to have taken your time with your enlistment decision you might have found yourself being accused of cowardice. There was quite a blizzard of white feathers in the air and in the post. Some of us, frightened of going to war, might have been as frightened of being hounded and shamed for our apparent cowardice if we didn't go.

Ninety-nine years ago (in 1915) this month the Queanbeyan Age reported:

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"Some of our young men in this and other towns have received from thoughtless and unknown feminine critics letters containing white feathers. The envelopes are addressed in a disguised hand and these 'ladies' concerned should take a little time to think before indulging in this peculiar form of patriotism and refrain from anonymously attacking innocent persons."

To its credit the Goulburn Evening Penny Post took the same stand against the harridans' woundings of the innocent, and this was the theme of Nellie A. Evans craftily written White Feathers run in the Post in 1916. Is Nellie, who gives as her address Citizen Street, Goulburn, describing something that really did happen in her town?

"He was tall and straight and blue-eyed, and a stranger in the township, and lounged in the park so much that soon the township, that was in the throes of recruiting, began to point the finger of scorn at him.

"He received hints from pompous men, and numerous reproaches from hysterical women, but these moved him not at all. At the time he could have sold out [his little stationery shop] with great profit to a milliner, such was the profusion of white feathers at his lodgings ... but he only arranged them artistically, and smiled."

Townsfolk galore browbeat him about his not being at the front. But then matters came to a head.

"One morning a prominent resident of the town was seen [browbeating] the young man, who listened with more attention than usual.

"'You state the case most admirably,' the young man said. 'You have shown me my duty, and I thank you. I will go down to the hall at once. Will you come with me?' The little man pranced off with his tall victim, fairly exuding pride. Arrived at the town hall he received many compliments on his prize.

"Now, just as the officer was about to make some preliminary remarks the young man broke in with the inquiry, 'Does it make any difference to a fellow here if he has seen any active service before?' 'Why,' inquired the surprised officer, 'Have you seen any active service, and if so, where?' 'At Gallipoli, on the 25th of April,' came the astounding response. 'In fact, it is on account of that landing that I am here [in Goulburn, in a shop] now; my nerves are a bit shaken, and the sight of one eye destroyed. I think it only fair to tell you this, as everyone here has taken such a deep interest in me.' He paused, and then drawled, 'You will excuse the remark, but your charming town is a little slow, and I thought perhaps that the news of the landing had not reached here yet.'

"Then there was a silence one could cut with a knife. That young man still lounges about the streets, and although he actually invites comment and adverse remarks, he now finds [free, gratuitous] advice as scarce as if some indignant fate had suddenly transplanted him into a community of lawyers."

Rod McRae is a Sydney taxidermy artist and committed conservationist and he explains to us that disturbing installations such as his Are You My Mother? (pictured) really are meant to disturb.

Are You My Mother? is part of a touring exhibition. It will alight in Goulburn in the near future.

McRae uses actual, late big game (even lions) arranged to startle us into thinking about animals and our often shameful relationships with and treatment of them.

He is able to legally import actual (deceased) zebras he explains, because in Africa they are not endangered and are alas bred as "bush meat" and for their skins to be used as rugs and in upholstery. The zebra heads he uses are real and the little waif zebra in his installation is an actual, stillborn zebra baby.

You can find out about McRae and the complex, heartfelt messages of his work at his website and our picture comes from the brand-new book Taxidermy Art by Robert Marbury.

The book will make an ideal Christmas present for someone who appreciates the macabre and a shocking Christmas present for someone who doesn't.