my Mother said. instead, he's waiting for attack - he could be dead! A time of fear for us - Korea. He said he missed us all, that he'd grown tall. 'Don't worry Mum, don't worry, not at all. I've made some friends, I'm eating well, as for my asthma, you can hardly tell I have the thing at all... just when I jump a wall... it's not too bad over here, in Korea. In an air mail envelope he sent a snap of a small girl, about my age, whose name he said meant 'Pearl'. Said she reminded him of me - although I could not see quite what he saw. She had straight, black hair - the front she wore bobbed in a shiny fringe. My little brother, Billy, said he

bet she didn't whinge like me. I envied her the company, you know, of my greatest hero, my big brother, Joe. But said I'd be her pen-pal even though. My brother said he missed the gramophone that he and his mates played in our lounge room. His favourite singer and his favourite tune was Kay Star's, 'Little Things Mean a Lot'. Why Johnny Ray could make my sister swoon was something that he hadn't worked out yet. He said that, in Korea they played a different tune and spoke a different language too, "and yet we are all human beings, shot through with the same strengths and frailties..." he would write, in letters to our Mother, all alone she'd

stare at photographs that he'd sent home and kiss them, one by one, and wish to God that he would come back soon, this first child from her womb, back from Korea. This fine day, Mrs Mack ran to our door, tight rollers in her hair - she didn't care who saw - her message was so great, she couldn't wait to tell our Mum that British troops are moving from Korea. Is that an Angel's voice I hear? It surely was not Mrs Mack's pleonastic nasal drone, 'Eva, Eva, your Joey's coming home!' As, breathless, she collapsed upon the couch. I thought I heard the couch springs shouting 'ouch!' as in turn, the old couch collapsed too, it was not from shock

I can tell you, but rather, that she held a bit of fat around her buttocks, ample in repose. She all but squashed my little brother's toes where he lay curled and reading from a book. He put the Beano down and with a look at me he threw the comic in the air and shouted 'Whoopee' for the world to hear. "My brother's coming back from that Korea! I wonder what he'll bring me?" Billy said, I - filled with another 'wonder' - shook my head and went to look at the slim twig of wood I'd taken from the tree in our back yard, for it appeared, it really, really could - if one closed one's eyes very, very hard and waved it 'till you heard it swish, swish, swish,

have the magic power to grant - a wish! My Mum was laughing, crying, "When? When? When? Tell me Nora, tell me once again!" "It's on the news." Said Mrs Mack in Glee, "With my own eyes - your son was on T.V.! He's grown - he looks just like a film star - that Robert Mitchum - just wait 'till you hear! They said he was the youngest and the last out of Korea. He waved as they drove past. It's on again tonight in the late news... so come on over." "Thank you, Mother mused, and in a voice, almost too soft to hear, 'My son is coming back home from Korea... I just wish that your sister Marie knew, thank God that they didn't send her too!' (She'd joined

the Women's Army, as she said, the uniform - bottle green- made her hair red, instead of brown, and made her green eyes glow), I thought she was quite lovely, even so, but worried when she was consigned a 'WRAC' that unsuspecting males she might attack, be rendered useless, emotionally - a wreck! At six o'clock that night, all of our street, it seemed, were sitting at our neighbour's feet as she leaned forward from her easy chair and shouted 'Yes, look Eve, look over there! I wished my little heart would stop its pull, as on the Army Jeep crammed, brimming full, 'King's Own Regiment Soldiers' packed within, all waving - but I only looked at him

and saw his cheeky, unmistakable grin. As my Mother said ,'it was a sin that, eighteen years old, Joe, was sent to war and as I'd asked a million times before, 'What for, what for, what for, what for, what for? I looked at my Mum's brown eyes, wet with pride "My boy will be home soon", she softly sighed. "I'd better make his bed in the Blue Room, where he will lay his head. He'll be home soon - he'll be home soon you know, he's coming from Korea, my son Joe..." A footnote to this autobiography - a mortifying incident for me... Rummaging in the glory box attached to the Blue Room wall, to see if chocs or other gifts Joe had

brought back - for he would say 'I've hidden them, go look - I found some white balloons. To my despair, I could not blow them up and took them down into our large front room crowded with relatives and friends to cheer him home. I thought the blanco-belted men in uniform I could cajole, so pushed myself through khaki-covered legs until my goal was reached, not realising that I would be impeached, innocently, by my brother Joe's friend Johnny McLoughlin as his tall frame he did bend down to see. I asked sweetly, 'Would you please blow this up for me?' His dark eyes widened, "If your Mum saw this, she'd have a fit!" he said to Joe. "Where did

she get them from d'you know?" Midst laughter, but in vain, they tried to save me from my fate, for Mother came past carrying a plate of salmon sandwiches. Bill Freeman's face turned red, as, "What have you got there?" she said, grabbing them from my hand, and with a slap upon my kittle legs so thin and words so sharp... she sent me to my room! I was perplexed. Why? Why was my mother very vexed? I cried into the crisp, white cotton sheet - and not for years and years did my Mum say - Army surplus condoms I'd found that day! Joye Dempsey © Australia 2004