Beneath the Southern Cross I Stand

Darryl had been digging the same hole for three hours. Just eighteen, and a long way from his home in Rockhampton, every day in the outback was the same: sweltering heat, sweat pouring, crowbar in hand, digging a hole.

Born in 1946, Darryl grew up in a time when the world was rebuilding following the devastation of World War II. The Cold War had begun. The war in Vietnam had started with tensions growing after Japan took over and aligned with the French. Communist forces had seized China and the war in Korea began.Little did Darryl know that the monotony of digging a hole was what would drive him to leave Rockhampton and join the Australian Army. That by the time he was twenty-one, the kaleidoscope of world events meant he would be joining the war in Vietnam with 60,000 other Australians in the fight against communism. He would no longer be digging holes for windmills, but digging holes to live in.

Over the next twenty years, he would be stationed in Malaysia, Borneo and complete two tours in Vietnam, be shot in the head and survive. He would lose his love and become a father. Those twenty years in the army, the experiences, and the comrades would turn his world upside down and be etched upon his memory forever.