Indeed it was. After being retrenched from Duntroon in mid-1922, just three years short of the prescribed retirement age of 65, left without a pension, Legge turned to farming for solace and income.

"With funding assistance under the soldier settlement scheme he and his wife, Annie, took over the lease of a property he called Cranleigh, in an area occupied by present-day suburbs of Latham, Flynn, Florey, Higgins and Scullin," reports historian Chris Coulthard-Clark.

Author of No Australian Need Apply: The troubled career of Lieutenant-General Gordon Legge (Allen and Unwin, 1988), Coulthard-Clark concludes "Legge was a controversial figure in Australian military history, regarded by many officers as a man in his early career who was parachuted into positions over other more deserving candidates because of his political usefulness".

Within a year of arriving at Cranleigh, Legge pumped considerable funds into establishing a piggery. He also constructed a ''homestead'' from concrete blocks moulded on the site with pebbles from the Ginninderra Creek which ran through the north-eastern border of his block. The style of the building was said to have derived from houses he had seen in India early in his military career and more resembled a fortress than a typical Australian homestead.

"Despite the considerable set-up costs, Legge's pig farming venture failed," reveals Coulthard-Clark. "This was possibly due to the fact that the proposed Canberra-Yass railway which Legge had pinned his hopes on in order to transport stock to market, and was planned to run virtually past his front door, never eventuated."

Undeterred, and clearly miffed at being forced into early retirement, for the next quarter of a century Legge hunkered down at Cranleigh trying his hand at growing various crops including potatoes, only occasionally leaving his farm to pursue his life-long interest in geology. Ill health forced Legge and Annie to move to Melbourne in 1947, the year they both died.

At his own request Legge was buried with no military recognition in an unmarked grave and all his personal papers were destroyed. The homestead was purchased by a former public servant who dismantled it, hoping to build a more modern house, however that never occurred and the bricks ended up being used as pavers at the nearby 'Pine Ridge' property.

The final location of the larger foundation stones of Cranleigh is less certain. They remained on site until 1986, when much to the chagrin of historians, local authorities cleared them away, leaving a windbreak of pines as the only reminder of Legge's tenure. "It was unauthorised destruction of a significant site," laments Coulthard-Clark.

It's thought by some that many of these concrete pillars were scattered in surrounding suburbs lining entrances to cycleways and laneways. In the last couple of years many of these pillars have since vanished, leaving some history enthusiasts to wonder if they've been stolen.

Richard Lamb, who, as regular readers may recall recently digitised half a century of RMC Journals, believes "the government could do worse than name the former site of the Cranleigh Homestead, after Legge".

I tend to agree. While there is a Canberra Tracks sign at the corner of Southern Cross and Kingsford Smith drives in Latham, there is no tribute to Legge at the actual site of the old homestead, the outline of which can still be seen amongst weeds in the centre of this vast vacant block.

Legge was instrumental in the development of Duntroon, had a distinguished military career including commander of Australian troops in World War I at Gallipoli, and despite his shortcomings as a farmer was a notable personality who contributed to the development of the Canberra we know and love today.

Now, if only some of the lost pillars could be returned to the site of Cranleigh to make a fitting monument.

When, earlier this week, Thomas Schulze sent me a photo of a Cummings' designed Canberra bus shelter being unceremoniously plucked from Atkins Street in Kambah by a crane, your akubra-clad columnist feared the worse. Had the recent spotlight in this column on the Canberra icons prompted someone to pilfer one? They would, after all, make a nifty addition to the backyard.

However Carl Pillig from Transport Canberra advises the concrete shelter was simply being relocated. "Two shelters on Atkins street are being moved from redundant stops to Forsyth Street, Banks, on Route 80 and Casey Crescent, Calwell, on route 79," Carl reports.

"Not only have these old-school concrete shelters stood the test of time, but they are actually fairly easy to move," reports Carl. "We used to lift them with lugs on the roof but they've all since rusted out, so now the crane picks them up through the windows, most of which have been removed over time due to vandalism."

Despite their age, with many being rolled out in the mid-1970s, according to Carl, "486 or just under half the total shelters in the ACT are the old-school concrete ones". Carl, who has worked in public transport for the last 34 years, even has his favourite Cummings shelter, one on Lhotsky Street in Charnwood which when recently cleaned by a high pressure hose revealed a 30-year-old artwork by a local school. "It's like a hidden Picasso that after cleaning came back to life," he reports.

Carl also has a word of advice for anyone wanting one for their backyard. "We actually get quite a few queries from people wanting to buy one, but they aren't for sale, we will continue to recycle them for as long as possible." Bummer.

CONTACT TIM: Email: timtheyowieman@bigpond.com or Twitter: @TimYowie or write c/- The Canberra Times, 9 Pirie St, Fyshwick.

Readers continue to send in photos of salvaged Canberra red bricks used in backyard and commercial projects all over Canberra.

While many readers have repurposed them as outdoor pizza ovens, and there's a whole pub constructed from the Canberra icons in Casey, arguably their most unusual re-use is a feature wall at Red Door Canberra, a massage parlour in Fyshwick. "We built it in mid-2015, I'm not sure where the bricks came from but there seemed to be an influx of salvaged bricks around that time and my builder had a magical source", reports 'Donna', a spokesperson for the adult establishment. I'm not sure how many of Donna's clients are focused on architecture during their visit, but if they look closely they can still see 'Canberra' or 'Commonwealth' emblazoned on many of the bricks.

Meanwhile, other suggestions for Canberra's Top 100 objects include the fast being ripped down or renovated, ''ex govie'' houses of the inner north and south, a 2CA Top 40 Chart, and as nominated by Ian Douglas of Jerrabomberra, a "Welcome to the Australian Capital Territory: Radar and Amphometer used to check speed" sign. Your akubra-clad columnist isn't quite long enough in the tooth to remember these signs, but Ian recalls seeing them in the early to mid-1980s and "wonders if they ended up in a museum, storage or the dump".

While Duntroon's cavalry treks into the Brindabellas and beyond may have ceased in the 1940s (Horse Tales from Duntroon, 25 April), Nalda Richards of Garran still remembers the days when horses from the RMC would participate in local ANZAC Day services. Nalda, who just celebrated her 90th birthday, recalls attending services in front of (old) Parliament House when "the mounted RMC cadets would form a guard of honour and the view of the horsemen and then across to Mt Ainslie was very moving." I bet it was.

Cryptic Clue: Not quite London

Degree of difficulty: Medium

Last week: Congratulations to Amanda Thornton of Conder who was first to correctly identify the location of last week's photo as the Tharwa Bridge which, opened in March 1895, recently marked its quasquicentennial.

Amanda just beat a flood of other first-time entrants including David Bolin of Braidwood, Ruth Palavestra and 10-year-old Mahalia McInnes of Scullin.

How to enter: Email your guess along with your name and suburb to timtheyowieman@bigpond.com. The first email sent after 10am, Saturday May 9, 2020, wins bragging rights. Tickets to Dendy Cinemas will once again be given as a prize when the cinemas reopen.

While recently wandering the streets surrounding Umbagong District Park in Macgregor, Karen Stopps noticed this old road marker hidden amongst bush on the roadside. Beneath the letters 'Y' and 'M' are the numbers 20 and 22. While it is about 22 miles (35km) to Murrumbateman from Macgregor, Yass is much further, so I presume the sign was relocated at some point. Or do Y and M stand for something else?

Further to recent musings in this column on Mt Bimberi, the ACTs highest mountain, in the 1990s avid bushwalker Geoff Leeper snapped this photo of a snow gum doing a pretty good impression of a horse's head on Bimberi Ridge, the slope to the south of the summit of the ACT's highest mountain. Love the colours. Oh, and how good was it to see the Brindabellas coated in white last weekend. Here's hoping for a bumper snow season.