A journal and a postcard: uncovering an Indigenous family’s legacy of service

The extraordinary wartime service of four Indigenous brothers — including one who served in the army, navy and air force — has come to light after a family uncovered a long-lost memoir and donated it to the Australian War Memorial.

When Julie Berents stumbled across a photo of a postcard on the Australian War Memorial website, it launched her on a journey of discovery into her family’s past, revealing the extraordinary wartime service of four Indigenous brothers and their non-Indigenous brother-in-law.

Among them was her great uncle, Robert Wallace, affectionately known as “Uncle Bun,” who served across all three military services — army, navy and air force — during the Second World War.

Robert’s handwritten memoirs, which have now been donated to the Australian War Memorial, offer a rare insight into the lived experience of one Indigenous Australian serviceman. Carefully transcribed by Julie and her husband, Harald, the notebook reveals personal memories of both Uncle Bun’s military service and his life before and after the war. The couple’s transcription project, which they began in 2020, was part of a broader effort to explore and preserve the military history of Julie’s Indigenous family.

His story, Julie says, is one of “adventure, resilience, and remarkable service”.

Uncle Bun was in high demand during the Second World War — not for combat, but for his culinary skills. Valued for his ability to prepare meals for over a hundred people in just a few hours, he travelled extensively as a cook, posted wherever needed. Post-war, he joined the efforts to repatriate malnourished British prisoners of war on their long journeys home from Asia via Canada. The survivors were in such poor condition that they required round-the-clock meals to help them recuperate.

Julie only began to understand the significance of her great uncle’s contributions after meeting Michael Bell, the Australian War Memorial’s Indigenous Liaison Officer. “Michael helped pull all the threads together,” she says. “We hadn’t realised just how unusual Uncle Bun’s story was”.

Four of the Wallace brothers — Robert (aka Bun), William Walter (aka Jack), Len and Tom — all served during the Second World War, along with their non-Indigenous brother-in-law, Norman Stanley Lloyd. Norman and his brother Ernest were two of the few members of the Kurrajong March from Inverell who survived the First World War.

“So, during the Second World War, my grandma, Helena Mary Wallace who known as ‘Lena’, had five servicemen in her family – her husband and four brothers,” Julie says. Remarkably, all four brothers returned from the war.

An image of a Christmas postcard, which Julie believes was sent by Jack to his sister, Helena, at Paradise Station, near Tingha, NSW – where Helena’s husband, Norman Lloyd, was employed – was what brought Julie to the Memorial in the first place.

“I still haven’t seen what’s written on the back of it,” she notes, but its discovery in a wall or behind a cupboard at Paradise decades later illustrates how personal stories form the basis of much of the military history told at the Australian War Memorial.

With Michael Bell’s assistance, Julie’s cousin Michael Shephard has identified at least 31 Indigenous members of her extended family who served across generations. When Julie met Michael Shephard, his extensive research confirmed and extended Julie’s knowledge of their Indigenous ancestry traced back to their Aboriginal matriarch, Julia Marno.

Although like many Aboriginal Australians of earlier generations, their heritage was not always openly acknowledged. Julie says some family members “grew up either unaware of or denying their Aboriginal heritage — that’s how you got by back then”.

Her Indigenous grandmother Helena, for instance, claimed Spanish ancestry — a protective tactic used by many families to deflect questions and avoid discrimination. Julie remembers a poignant moment after the birth of her first child when her grandmother, still fearful of government policies, warned her: “Don’t let them take her away”.

Julie believes her great uncles’ decisions to enlist stemmed from a mix of motivations: adventure, steady wages, and perhaps a desire for purpose. “Uncle Bun started working when he was 13 years and eight months old,” she says. “They were never well off. I think the war offered something different — maybe even adventure.”

Julie’s efforts to preserve and share their stories, by transcribing and donating Uncle Bun’s memoirs and through her extensive family research, helps give these narratives a place in Australia’s history.

“I’m very proud of what they did,” she said.

For Julie, working with Michael Bell and the Australian War Memorial has been enlightening.

“Michael is wonderful. It’s an incredible job he does, making sure stories like those of my great uncles are seen and remembered.”

“He helped us to uncover parts of the story we’d never realised, for instance, that it was unusual to serve across all three services like Uncle Bun did,” she says.

Today, Uncle Bun’s journal is preserved in the National Collection, and Julie continues to trace her family’s broader history. “It’s been surprising how much there is to uncover,” she says. “It wasn’t talked about much growing up, but now we’re starting to piece it all together.”

The stories of the Wallace brothers contribute to Australia’s complex wartime history and our understanding of the military service of Indigenous Australians from a time before they were legally recognised as citizens.