Sam the ‘Security Man’.

Sam was a big red headed bloke who was an Internal Courier at the Old Guv Netley Complex.
Always had a lot to say, listened in on conversations and talked a lot of bullshit. Just like all of us!
I believe that in his younger days he was a pretty fair Footballer and Professional Sprinter who won the Bendigo Handicap Running Race in 1950
After a year or so at the Guv. he was promoted to being an Internal Security Attendant (similar to “flipping” Bert Cotton).
Big Mistake.
Unfortunately, Sam used his position of trust to rip off the Comp Room Deli’s Scratchie Ticket fundraiser.
He was eventually sprung by a resourceful and cunning night shift proofreader.
Sam got the boot for that indiscretion after he admitted that he had been stealing from his workmates.
And, YES it is the same Sam.
Big Den

At 3.15 am ‘Big Dogs’ Struck.

Tree for Two (5)
Many years ago on Hansard shift I noticed in the newspaper an advert for two Neil Diamond tickets for sale to his upcoming concert.
I’ve no idea when this happened possibly early 1980s. I cut the advert out and placed it in my desk for some reason, never intending to go to the concert.
Still on shift work, but about one year later, I found the ad in my desk.
I jokingly, mentioned it to Big Dogs (Peter Cornish) that I should ring them up to see if they still have the tickets.
He said, “Ring up then, see if they still have them”!
I said, “You gotta be kidding, it’s three in the morning”!
“Dogs” said, “Give me the ad, I’ll ring them up”.
The time is 3.15 a.m. yes, morning lunch break on Hansard shift!
So, Big Dogs rings the number, the phone is picked up after quite a few rings, then he very calmly says, “Have you still got those Neil Diamond tickets for sale”?
There was a pause while the poor bloke was getting his sleepy head around this question then the very loud response came:
“Do you know what f . . . g time it is! Who is this? No, I don’t have the f . . . g tickets”!
(Speaking to his wife . . .”This f . . . g bloke is asking if I still have those f . . . g Neil Diamond tickets for sale . . .”)
Big Dogs and others were just about rolling around on the floor with laughter. Hilarious at the time, but very cruel all the same.
The next morning at about the same time he rang up again but, this time, his wife picked up the phone!
“Dogs” said “Are you sure you still haven’t got those tickets?”, then quickly hung up.
The prank ended there.
About Big Dogs: Compositor, ex Vietnam Vet, pisspot (loved Canadian Club), hellraiser, card sharp, and apprentice lunatic.
Best mate: Shorty Moncrieff.
stolen biro

The sad tale of an Afghan Hound and a Wabbit.

WARNING: If you trust your best mate. Think Again.
What if, you had a mate that you worked alongside for years. What if, after work and on the weekend you socialised with that mate and his family.
What if, your mate won a 2 week Pacific cruise in a Lottery draw, and What if, your mate had a stupid and dopey Afghan Hound (remember when they were popular in Oz?).
What if, your mate asked you to look after the dopey Afghan for the 2 weeks they would be away on the cruise. You Agree! Woops! Big Mistake!
What if, after 4 days the Afghan had broken a priceless vase, shit in your bedroom, terrorised the kiddies and pissed in every corner of the house. What if, you couldn’t stand the sight of the dog!
What if, you were so upset you had a lapse in judgement and decided to go “wabbiting”. Take the dog? Bad idea! So you grab your old single shot Lithgow .22 and go “wabbiting with the “Dope.”
AH! The fresh air and what is that I see. A Bunny, A Wabbit, stand still little wabbit. You take careful aim and POP! It falls dead, a neat hole in the head. But it’s not the wabbit because the Afghan lies motionless, it had jumped headlong into the path of the bullet.
The wabbit hops slowly away, wondering “what the fuck.”
You wonder? Hmmm! That Afghan could never have bin huntin’ before… Oh! well! Them’s the breaks! Your mate arrives back from the cruise.
“I am sorry to inform you that your Afghan got under the fence and runned away.” “Heartbreaking, it was….”

Charlie Korff.

Charlie Hans Korff was born on 27 April, 1934, to parents Frederick and Lurline. He had three sisters Connie, Lurline, Helen and two brothers Dick and Paul.
Charlie went through all of the usual problems for a very short young boy, growing teeth, constantly hurting himself and speaking broken German
It wasn’t a great time to have a German background for a short boy during World War II. Charlie would be dodging insults on his way to and from school and during school classes.
Charlie was very proud of his dad Frederick who volunteered to serve in the Merchant Navy during the conflict.
After the War and upon reaching puberty he would lie in bed of a night and hear a hauntingly strange voice calling, “Charlie, become a Compositor and be respected.”
Charlie was mystified by the voice and would call out, “But, I can’t read music.” “Oh well, he was short after all.”
At fourteen years of age he commenced an apprenticeship at Stock Journal Publishers where he stayed for seven years before moving on to Specialty Printers. Here he met people like Adrian Riosa, Nick Penn, Chris Candlett, and Conrad Rogers.

Pictured: A rather good looking Charlie in 1961.
Charlie started at the Guv at Netley in 1976 after 21 long years at Specialty Printers. He  followed brothers Dick and Paul, all who worked at the Guv at some time or other.
Away from work, he had been a brilliant footballer when a youngster playing with South Colts and College Park. He married Ruth in 1963 and they had two children Andrew and Berni.
Working with Charlie was an uplifting experience, You would always feel so much better after meeting him every morning. Because if you had a cold he would have life threatening influenza and if you had sore eyes he would need a seeing eye dog.
Charlie was always sicker than you but he was the most lovable man you could ever meet.
Charlie Hans Korff, you are a Legend.

“Kindy Kopped”.


Grubby Hartshorne had a real perk going.
The Grubs had a swimming pool in his backyard and the water needed to fill it would have cost a lot back in the 1980s (imagine the cost today)
But Grubby had a scam which had been suggested by Alex Riley.
At night the Grubs would climb over the back fence, connect his hose to the Kindergarten tap and fill his pool up with kindy water overnight.
Elsdon decided our Grubby needed to be taught a lesson. He got on the Foreman’s phone and rang Grubs in the Intertype room.
Hartshorne answered and Elsdon said he was from the Water Board, following up a complaint from the Kindergarten behind Grub’s place.
He said that they had witnesses who had seen an overweight and balding man clambering over the kindy fence at night with a garden hose which he connected to the Kindergarten taps.
Well, Grubby absolutely SHIT himself. We were peeping through the door and could see the beads of sweat pouring down his face.
After a few minutes contemplating his future at Yatala Gaol he looked up saw us and realised that he’d been truly had.
Did he stop pilfering the water from the poor little kiddies? Don’t know!

‘Casino Bob’.


 Photo: (from left to Right) Bob Allen, Keith Oxley and Coralie Hills.
Sadly our little Aussie battler Bob passed away quietly on 1 February, 2017, aged 83.
Bob was born in Belfast in Northern Ireland and emigrated to Australia in the late 1950s. Within two days of his arrival he was working at the Old Guv in King William Road as a Binder.
Some Highlights of our Bob’s time at the Guv.
1. Arranged the controversial Casino Night at the Netley Canteen which was raided by the Police Vice Squad, resulting in headline news, arrests, broken property and the theft of Anatoli Onishko’s cash register.
2. Entered Australia as a Ten Pound tourist and was employed at the Guv after telling Merv “Nobby” Clark that he had played cricket for the Northern Ireland Test team.
3. He was duly appointed to the GPO Cricket Club as Head Coach and senior adviser to our Captain for Life, Mr. Russell Wight.

4. Bob organised the Cricket Bus Trip to Hell by hiring Eric Miles “The Crayfish” to be the bus driver to go to Melbourne. The Crayfish got lost just outside Bacchus Marsh arriving hours late in Melbourne. By that time Bob was purple with rage at Eric’s blinding incompetence.
It was difficult to understand Bob on some days, especially when he got excited!
A little Aussie Battler who was innovative and daring as our Cricket Club Secretary. And, I’m richer for having known this man.
Bob Allen was a great bloke who achieved Old Guv Legend status and shed a grateful tear when receiving his Award!
Rod Parham