>From The [London] Times 26 February 1900 -- FROM QUEENSLAND TO NATAL Dr. Joseph Ahearne, writing from the North Queensland Club, Townsville, Queensland, early in January, sends us this dramatic little sketch of a typical Australian volunteer :--I had arrived at the Imperial Hotel here to eat a last hurried meal with Major Tunbridge, who was to leave in an hour, ordered on special service for the front. Being somewhat ahead of the preparations, I stood on the verandah and was looking at an evening paper, when I heard, "Do you think, Sir, I'm fit to go?" Looking up, with a superficial glance, I saw a man apparently not deserving any of one's time or words at such a moment, so I loosely answered, "Oh, yes, certainly." He had on a slouch hat, was clean shaved and wrinkled, wore spectacles, had been recently chewing tobacco ; his wollen shirt was open at the neck and wrists, though the sleeves were not rolled up, but flapped at their full length ; over his left hip was slung a new canvas ration bag. He was quite six feet high, straight, without a superfluous fleshy ounce upon him. "Yes," he continued, while I kept my eyes on the newspaper, "yes, Doctor, I would do for ambulance work anyhow. I can put on a bandage, I can. I was under two doctors. They were gentlemen ; all doctors are gentlemen. Do you think they'd take me?" "I dare say ; they might be glad of you," I said. "If they don't I'll go myself." "Well," I said, seeing now a chance of indicating that he had better go away, "the steamer leaves at eight." "No, it leaves at seven," he replied. "You'll have barely time, then, so go and get your ticket." "I've got it already," he said, and putting his hand into the right side pocket of his moleskin trousers, he pulled out a doubled-up, soiled envelope. "There," said he, stretching toward me a hand and bared forearm. I took a yellow paper and another merely to humour him, and idly opened the yellow one, when I saw "£13 13s., passage to Natal, Aberdeen Line steamer Moravian." "Come and have a drink, old man," and he came inside. Uncovered, he might be 60, with his bald head, but appearance is no guide to the age of these tough North Queensland nomads, for they never alter after 45. "I have a pound or two," he said "to keep me over until they find something for me to do. I can lay a gun yet, or put on a bandage with any one. That's the work would suit me now," and the kind old face smoothed out as he spoke it. I discovered he had served years ago, in the Royal Marines Artillery, and on two ships had been servant to a surgeon. So I seized the opportunity, then and there, of redressing the mental injustice I had done him, and wrote hurried notes which he carries to some of my friends, not asking any favours, but merely to introduce Macdonald-- that is his name--Irish or Scotch, I do not know. It's all the same--he's a true Britisher. ------------------------------------------------ Historic Australian Newspapers, 1803 to 1954 http://ndpbeta.nla.gov.au/ndp/del/home Aherns in Australian Records http://homepages.rootsweb.com/~aherns/ahcrim.htm ------------------------------------------------