Free Anzac's Dirty Dozen by Craig Stockings Page B

most attention or largest volume of published outputs, it is very easy for historians or devotees of a particular subject to claim that their subject of interest is unloved or under-appreciated. Moreover, stirrings of jealously might encourage a lament that there ought to be much less of ‘this’ and much more of ‘that’. This chapter explicitly rejects such sentiments. History should not and does not have to be a zero sum game. A greater breadth and depth to Australian naval history, for example, does not have to come at the expense of that of the other armed services. In part this is because the development of the field can come from the Australian Navy as an organisation better understanding the importance of its own history, both for itself and as a part of Australia’s national heritage. It is also in part because it would be both improbable and perhaps undesirable to attempt to recast the dominant Anzac land-based tradition. Yet there are many subjects, people and events in Australian naval history that are worthy of greater attention. One subject, HMAS Murchison ’s operations in the Han River in Korea in 1951, will be examined later in this chapter in some detail. It is not that Murchison ’s operations have never been recorded or that there are not other subjects of equal or even greater merit: what is significant is that her operations are an amazing story of skill, determination and bravery, but one which is completely absent from the public mind. It is a case of ‘prime’ historical material that has never been offered for wider public consumption and it is an example of the type of missed opportunity which pervades Australian naval history as a subject area.
    There is a ‘negative’ version of this type of discussion: that some aspect of history is over-represented. The most common recent iteration of this argument is that Australian military history occupies a predominant position in the national psyche and that this is undesirable, if only because it excludes other aspects of the national heritage. Perhaps unsurprisingly, this is most commonlyobserved in the lead up to Anzac Day. This ‘beggar thy neighbour’ approach is unproductive at best: watching historians fight is, with only one exception this author can think of, very unlikely to generate a broader interest in any aspect of the subject. 1 The only productive way to achieve balance, if indeed an imbalance exists, is for historians and devotees of a particular subject to do the research, give the lectures, and write the books that meet the demands of varying audiences. In so doing they expand the contribution of history to Australia’s heritage and public discourse, as well as advancing the subjects and causes that they care about. This is a much more positive method of contribution.
    In any case, the fact is that the public does not have a very good understanding of Australian naval history. Certainly there are well-known battles, such as the first HMAS Sydney ’s sinking of the German cruiser Emden in November 1914, or the second Sydney ’s sinking of the Italian cruiser Bartolomeo Colleoni in July 1940. Some other well-known episodes in Australian naval history focus on the sinking of ships and other more difficult issues: the loss of the second HMAS Sydney in November 1941 (when all 645 crew died), of her sister ship HMAS Perth in February 1942 (353 crew died, over half the ship’s company), and that of HMAS Canberra at Savo Island in August 1942 are cases in point during the World Wars. A little later, the sinking of HMAS Voyager in 1964 and USS Frank E Evans in 1969 in collisions with the carrier HMAS Melbourne – and the subsequent Royal Commissions – managed to capture public attention for a time. In more recent times, the treatment of servicewomen in the Navy in general, and in ships at sea in particular, has generated a great deal of print.
    The history of the