Clarence Hein Eulogy

Clarence Hein (photographed above in 1940 with wife Dulcie and first-born Lois) in 2009 turned 97 and was one of the last two grandchildren of JAL Hein surviving (the other being Elsa Downes, who is referred to in the Manser chapter). He died later that year on 06 August. He led an interesting life, including service for the Australian Army in World War 2. Here is the eulogy for him read by Don Hein at his funeral.

EULOGY TO CLARENCE OWEN HEIN

In Asia, as a mark of respect and to fulfill the duty to know and remember those who die, care is taken at the funeral to document their life and achievements. At 97 years of age Clarence Owen Hein lived a long and eventful life worthy of the telling … and remembering.

Clarence (commonly known as ‘Clarry’ but always ‘Uncle Clarence’ to me) was descendant of a family that came from Germany in 1876 as part of a policy to populate the Colony of South Australia under a ‘free passage’ scheme. So they came as farm labourers but in fact the immigrant father was a konditor – a pastrycook – in Hamburg as was his father before him. There were five children including Clarence’s father Julius Heinrich Gustav Hein (always known as ‘Lou’). Their passage was sponsored by members of the same family who had come earlier, in 1855, to set up their lives in Mount Gambier.

Lou married Annie Florence Jeffree and they established themselves at OB Flat near Mount Gambier. Clarence was born 20 Jan 1912, younger among, depending on how you count, four or six siblings.

Clarry went to the Glenburnie Primary School (although you will only find him recorded under the spelling ‘H-I-N-E”. Clarry grew up in tough times, little money or resources, and when everyone had to contribute to survival. They learnt to farm, plough a field, ride, hunt for food, and make do. In common with most families of the day, they had a lot to do with horses, both in work and sport. Clarrie became a jockey and rode the local races.

You all know the wonderful story of him as a 16 year old in 1928 riding from the Mount to Coleraine for a race meet, not doing well, riding back to Casterton, and racing the next day on King Sam to win the Casterton Cup. In a lovely ceremony last year he presented the prize to the winning jockey, a woman no less, of the same race he had won 80 years before.

Then the depression came – not like our present ‘recession’, or an ‘economic crisis’ but a depression characterised by poverty, of hunger, and stress. There were no easy handouts, nothing of the ‘cash splash’ and ‘incentive payments’ of today. As a young man Clarry along with his older brother Merle and my father Lloyd left Mount Gambier to seek work in a more prosperous place – Portland. I guess they were among Portland’s earliest economic refugees!

Clarry stayed on to marry Dulcie Mavis Moore, a fortuitous bonding of two wonderful people. Dulcie sadly passed away three years ago. Their first child (and my soul-mate), Lois, was born a few days after the outbreak of war and soon its threats drove many to join the services to do what they could to help protect Australia. It was the natural thing for them to do. When summer fires threatened the fields and homes everyone went to fight them, when someone got burnt out or suffered other disaster, people went to offer help. It was the culture of the day.

Clarry joined the army and was fatefully posted to the 2/21 battalion, the unit that was to suffer the highest casualty rate of any infantry unit during the war. They went to Darwin and I remember, I guess like many others, he posted home a coconut with the address inscribed into the husk and the stamp stuck on.

Ambon was one of the Dutch Spice Islands and when Japan entered the war in December 1941 by attacking Pearl Harbour and moving through Southeast Asia, the Dutch asked the Australian government to assist their territorial forces to defend the island. Ten days after Pearl Harbour, the 2/21st was shipped up under its peace time commander who quickly realized defense of the island was hopeless without reinforcement. Army High Command sacked him and put in someone new. With command spilt between the Dutch and Australian forces, and given the misjudgment that the attack would come by a landing in the deep water harbour separating the two lobes of the island, disaster was at hand. The Japanese came in behind the main defense force and within hours the fight was lost.

Clarry was driving a water-truck from one part of the island to the other and stopped at a hospital to find everyone dead. He decided to go back to the main force and by so doing saved his own life. The 230 soldiers defending the Laha airport were captured and with their hands wired behind were killed in ways not to be described here today. Their mass grave was found after the war. Most of the main force, ill-trained, poorly equipped and inexperienced, were soon defeated by the highly capable Japanese who had long years fighting in China.

A few immediately escaped by boat, but the other 800 were taken into captivity, and so began an existence in hell that few were to survive. After a few months another Portland lad and a valiant soldier, Ben Amor decided to escape. Ben is now 90 and not well so it is marvelous to see him here today. His story is recorded and should be known to all. Ben got home and was able to tell the family that Clarry was alive and in the camp. For the next 3 and a half years nothing was known of the death by bashing, beheading, starvation and disease they were to endure. 260 were taken to Hainan Island as slave labour and of those who remained only a few over 100 were left alive at the end of the war.

Now the next awful bit you are not going to easily accept. Japan surrendered on 15 August 1945. Soon six Australian warships approached Ambon to affect a rescue and one entered the harbour. The Japanese signaled them to leave and they did!! It was not until 26 days later that (and I assume with the permission of the Japanese) 123 emaciated and dying survivors were rescued by another less timorous Australian force (it is ironic that a fortnight before American paratroopers had dropped into Hainan Island to liberate the prisoners there).

As an 11 year old I talked to Uncle Clarence about his time on Ambon and what he told me lives like a nightmare in the back of my mind. I tried to imagine what it had been like – the daily threat of violent death, of torture and frequent unfathomable brutality, of watching mates slowly waste and die, knowing ones own turn was coming. They intimately knew every nuance of the approach of death.

He told me that it was the custom to avoid dying in your own bunk as it made it more difficult for those left to manage things, and so when it was time they would go outside and lie on the ground. And that is where they found Clarry.

On the hospital ship home to Melbourne the doctors judged Clarry would not survive the rest of the journey so they unloaded him in Brisbane and flew Dulcie and his older brother Merle up to more-or-less say goodbye.

But Clarry was made of tough stuff. He eventually did come home, very ill, with damaged vision, and skeleton thin, but he set about rebuilding his life.

We might consider the characteristics that explain why Clarry survived the war and its aftermath. Why he came home at all, got well, and went on with life, facing the future and not the past. For the next 50 odd years his fortitude and determination has been inspirational. To express stubbornness when grit was required he would tug his chin and say ‘that’s what you need’, something we still draw on whenever we have to face a difficult time.

He marched every ANZAC day. Last year he insisted on doing it again; the whole way unaided. His concerned sons wanted to accompany him but he said they had ‘not earned it’ – it was something he had to do himself. To the alarm of the family he was just as adamant this year but a POW mate said he couldn’t make it and asked Clarrie to come in the jeep with him.

The post-war babies were Des and Gary, and together with Lois they are good people, each accomplished in their own way, all of whom unselfishly contribute to society, who do things worthwhile and ask nothing in return. The following generations display the same fine nature. Good kids come from good parents and the children of Clarry and Dulcie deeply appreciate this truth. They know and are grateful for the respect you all hold for their parents.

After a time running a fruit and veg shop in Henty Street, Clarry worked for Borthwicks, and in the Portland Botanical Gardens until retirement. Happily there were many years of rest, travelling around Australia with their caravan, and overseas through South East Asia, the UK and Canada, collecting shells, and rocks, and enjoying life.

Both he and Dulcie returned to Ambon a couple of times to visit those who never returned - it must have been a poignant and painful experience.

There were eight kids in Clarry’s brother Lloyd’s family and to provide a break all of the kids were at various times farmed out to the relatives at Portland. Therefore, I and my siblings are privileged to have a lifetime of memories of Uncle Clarence, from kids aware (at least the older ones) that he was going to war, of emotionally witnessing his return, and all of us enjoying many occasions when we had the chance to be in his company during visits, fishing trips, family reunions and other celebrations, during which he was always good fun, wonderfully supportive and so sensitive to the feelings of others. He always came bearing gifts such as a box of apples or a huge can of honey, but it was his happiness, sense of joy, an interest in every individual one of us, that we so looked forward to.

Even then, but most certainly in retrospect, we respected and loved him immensely, as an uncle, as a friend, as an inspirational role model, and as a human being. To us he was a giant. He was one of the heroes of our age.

Uncle Clarence was the penultimate member of the generation before our own. We should remember him and all of his generation, for their efforts to accept sacrifice for our future. He and his generation are one of the key reasons we have had it so good.

Beyond duty, it is our desire to remember him. It is equally important that society continues to remember what Clarry, and others like him, so unselfishly gave in time of war, and contributed to this land and community in time of peace.

We will remember him.

External sites of interest.

From Trove: Argus 1945 report of survivor rescue.

History of Gull Force, 2/21st Battalion.

Discharge information.

On his 97th birthday, Clarence with left son Gary with his wife Dianne, daughter Lois and other son Des with his wife Nicki.