A Love Story That Transcends Time

My grandfather signed up in 1916 to head off to war as a member of the Australian Imperial Force. Born in North West Queensland and starting his career as a selector on a large cattle station, he spent ten months in the Territorial Force before embarking on the ship Itonus, sailing to Plymouth, England in late 1916. Little did he realise that the circumstances of his deployment would mould a love story that transcends time.

Serving in England and France as a member of the 4th Pioneers, a chance meeting with a Kiwi soldier in the trenches sealed his future. Fighting side by side for several months, he learnt of his mate’s wife who was waiting for him to return to New Zealand.

Mateship amongst Australia and New Zealand soldiers was legendary and the two Roberts both came across each other on a regular basis. My grandfather held Robert after he was fatally wounded by gunfire. His words to my grandfather as he died were that he hoped he would take his few belongings back to his wife in New Zealand. Treasuring a bible, wedding ring, watch and a pocketknife, the items returned with my grandfather to Australia after the war had finished and he was discharged from the army.

Arriving back to the cattle station after 5 years of absence wasn’t what he expected. His position wasn’t there anymore and the local council was offering returned soldiers a cash incentive to leave the already impoverished area. Robert took the money, brought himself a horse, and rode the 750 miles (1250 kilometers) to Brisbane where he sailed to New Zealand on a mission to find his friend's wife.

It is unclear how my grandfather found out where Robert’s widow was living but I can clearly recall the story of when he first sighted her hut. He had walked for 10 miles along a dirt road in the remote area near Gisborne on the east coast of the North Island in New Zealand. As he came to the crest of a hill, he spied a tiny wooden slab hut in the distance with smoke curling from the rough chimney. As he got closer, he realised just how bad the condition of the hut was.

It was cold and wet and the wind was almost strong enough to blow this little hut over. The door flew open and this tiny lady emerged from the hut to gather some more firewood near the door. This was Ruby, Robert’s widow. She had been advised that Robert was missing in action and was devastated to hear my grandfather's account of what happened to him.

A little boy entered the room and Ruby introduced him as George - the son that Robert never knew he had. Now 6 years old he had been born after his father had left for the war and to my grandfather’s knowledge Robert never knew he had a son.

Being the gentleman that he was, my grandfather told Ruby that he would stay and fix the leaking roof, the wind whistling through the gaps in the walls, and the water coming through the floor near the side wall. The next day the weather cleared and my grandfather started work on the slab hut.

Surrounded by bush, the hut was the only dwelling on the road but opposite was a shed owned by the local quarry. With the experience my grandfather gained during the war, it wasn’t long before he had made a small lean-to beside the slab hut to shelter himself and had the hut weatherproof for winter. He stayed and with the skills he had with explosives, he secured a job at the nearby quarry as their manager.

Long story short – this became a love story that transcends time. My grandfather married Ruby in 1923. He adopted George and my father (another Robert, named after his dad and Ruby’s lost husband) arrived in 1925. They stayed in the hut, with my grandfather continuing to work in the quarry until 1940 when they purchased a farm in North Auckland. My grandfather loved my grandmother Ruby with all his being. Ruby had a severe stroke in 1964 and my grandfather devoted the rest of his life until he passed in 1973 at 78 years old, to look after her. Ruby joined my grandfather in 1974 when she passed away aged 79.