I have heard on the grapevine that Phil died from a stroke on Friday. He has requested no funeral, so I will miss the wake.
Experiences during wars alters people and Phil saw action in Egypt and Italy and served time in the J Force. Our conversations revealed the impact of the experience(s)
He came to me looking for work on the forest, probably because he knew that Clark's flourmill, where he was employed, would not continue for that much longer.
We had no vacancy, so when I turned him down he asked our local Member of Parliament to change my mind. It was simply a request and although I expected some stick from District Office, I took him on.
He didn't last long, maybe because the wage rate was low, or perhaps as often happens, the work seems physical at the start - until you become fit to it. Anyway he went back to the flourmill for a short time but when it scaled down, he returned requesting reinstatement.
Phil did not shy from work, and he was respected - we found him to be a bit of larrikin [in a good way].
Talk about hard work though, in the early days he was a partner a transport business and he told me about loading his truck manually, with a shovel, in Maggie's pit to deliver gravel on to the main road on the Herbert Hill. The trucks in those days were small compared to today but still, that is hard, physical work!
Phil had a farm on the foothills West of the Herbert township. This is marginal land and unfortunately he experienced the severe drought - seven years of it - during the late 50's and early 60's. He told me that super-phosphate lay on the soil undissolved for years. Impossible farming conditions.
He was in my salvage logging team after the 1975 gales. Salvage logging though windthrow is difficult and dangerous and my team started off untrained and experienced only in thinning trees that were no older than 12 years.
As well, Conservancy Office put the pressure on us by allowing a low cubic metre price for the work.
As the years passed Phil used tell the story about my lucky escape when dropped a tree on me. I was working on a problem tree below him and I heard the tree he had felled,whistling tin my direction! There was a large tree lying across where Phil's tree was falling and I managed to duck under it, and luckily it did not break!
Phil was relieves to see me rise up among the branches with only a broken helmet.
There are many 'forestry stories' involving Phil and they may yet appear on my blog.
When we arrived home after after our stint in Tanzania, Phil brought me a gift - he was making bird-baths out of local stone and cement for a hobby. The one he gave us sits in pride of place in our garden.
