“Lest We Forget” – George Bonney.

bonney_george_edward_lowresStudio portrait of 44 Private (Pte) George Edward Bonney, 32nd Battalion, of Unley, South Australia.
George Bonney was born on 23 August, 1876 at Unley.
He was the son of William Bonney and Eliza Powell.
George married Florence Connor on 24 January, 1900 in Adelaide.
Originally a Printing Machinist with the Government Printing Office in Adelaide, South Australia, Private Bonney at age 39 years enlisted in May 1915 and embarked for Europe on 18th November, 1915, with A company, 32nd Battalion.
Soon after arriving in France for service on the Western Front, Private Bonney became one of the first Australians killed during the horrific Battle of Fromelles in World War I when he was shot at Fleurbaix, soon after going over a parapet on 19th July, 1916.
He was buried at Fromelles in France.
Lest We Forget

Cyril Day.

Cyril Day operated Miehle 1. Each morning at 8 am Cyril would cut out his Innersoles for the day from strawboard.
Next job was to oil the press which was done by Cyril and an apprentice each doing NEAR side or OFF side of the press.
Miehle 1 was a smaller Model which could take Double Demy Formes.
Blocks of Photos for the Police Gazette were printed on this Press because it had a wet spray system to avoid set off. This spray was a sugary liquid which dried instantly as it was sprayed onto each sheet.
It was a hand fed flatbed machine. A skilled Operator could feed the machine at about 2000 sheets per hour.
It was also a machine which exposed the operator to abuse by fellow employees who could sneak under the feed table and scare shit out of the printer.
Cyril’s wife expected him home straight after work for tea. Because of this Cyril would ALWAYS go missing around 3:45 p.m. everyday!
“I’M OUT THE BACK,” he would shout to his apprentice.
Many times the Overseer would ask the Apprentice to sneak over to “The Strath” to ask Cyril to come back to set up the press for urgent Parliamentary work.
It was great working with Cyril he had started at the Government Printing Office when he was only 15 and it was unbelievable that he was once a “Shit Boy.”
He was a quietly spoken man who on his Retirement day at 65 was ONLY recognized for his Loyalty and Service by His Workmates. Typical.


Fred Howlett.

mettwurst-80Fred Howlett was a lovely bloke who wouldn’t hurt a fly!
He was also one of the most nervous blokes I’ve ever known. He was on long term medication for a severe nervous disorder and was also a heavy smoker.
At least every 10 minutes of his day, he would stop in mid track to loudly check that he had spare smokes and spare tablets. One day he did not bring his spare tablets in and Frank Johnson sent him home to get them.
Freddy was always annoyed that he couldn’t hear the bell on the goods lift ring at the other end and therefore had no proof that it was ringing.
There was only one bell press, so I assume it rang constantly on both the Jobbing and Comp. floors when it was meant only for the Bindery.
Geoff Clarke and I were a bit partial to a drop (or five) of Kaiser Stuhl, Family Port. Every so often, I’d load up the ex missus in the green Austin and take a Sunday afternoon to go up to the Barossa to load up on cheaper volumes of wine.
That was in the days when ‘cellar door’ sales really were a lot cheaper. I always got an order from Geoff on the Friday afternoon before heading off.
That day me and the ex had a nice picnic lunch in a park and a few wines to wash it all down.
We were coming back down through Nuriootpa and I was hanging out for a soft drink so stopped at Linke’s Bakery for a drink. Linke’s also made a very respectable metwurst and it was on sale in the bakery.
I pulled up behind an old (and familiar) original VW Beetle and spied Freddy on the footpath in front of the shop, about ¾ of the way through a full garlic metwurst.
I could smell it as soon as I got out of the car. I’m still not a big fan of garlic, so with a short ‘hiowyergoin’, left him to his task.
Monday morning, I asked him how he got on with the metwurst. “Mate, I was as sick as a dog on the way home and even during the night”. Fred didn’t smell too flash that day and I think Frank Johnson might have given him an early minute to go home and recover.

Wayne Brown.

The Mongrel was born in 1947, which was from then on known as the year of “The Foul Mouthed Mongrel”.
It was born in Ferryden Park just down the road from Toorak Gardens. Went to Croydon Primary and won many elephant stamps for elementary swearing.
Transferred to Christian Brothers College where he was forced to undergo the “the head down the toilet bowl” ritual many times.
Never popular with the priests because he told them where to go, he left after only a short stay.
Apprenticed to a Light Square Printer he was made a Binder because he got the lowest ever score in the IQ Test.
But he flourished as a “paper cutter” and joined the Government Printing Office in 1973.
His career as a “The Mongrel” really took off at Netley and soon bosses ran away from him and women refused to pick up things in front of him.
He was a Legend for all the wrong reasons. His hobbies included vigorous mixed basketball and watching his three little Catholic boys play sport.
He married a beautiful and talkative Catholic nurse and finally settled in South Plympton, not far from his “special” friend.
Started following Westies when they won the SANFL Grand final in 1983 then ditched them when Port Power went top.
He is therefore not a loyal person.
But it is his Gift to the English Language that has made him a Legend. He has enriched our Culture with some of the most poetical and colourful filthy Language imaginable.
“Mongrel” you are a Legend!

Fred Hardwicke.


In January, 1966, I left the Comp Room’s shitboy job to start my apprenticeship in the Jobbing Room. My clicker was Fred Hardwicke.
The crew consisted of Shorty Moncrieff, Jack Wells, Ray Stagg, Joe Scholberg, David Copley, Rod Stone, Alex Riley and Bruce Kutcher.
Fred’s bark was far worse than his bite.
If you started talking about his beloved North Adelaide Football Club (he played for them) or the country town of Port Broughton everything would work out just fine.
Shorty Moncrieff would often set my copy on fire. I was stubborn. “I’m not putting it out”, I’d say. Shorty would just shrug and reply, “Neither am I.”
I’d go over to Fred and say, “I’ve lost my copy.” Fred would grunt and ask, “Did that idiot set it on fire again?”
But he would always get out the spare copy for me.
Fred noticed that I was always buying LP records. “You like music?” he would grunt. “My brother had a record shop on Hyde Park Road years ago.”
One day out of the blue he came over to my frame with a package, “Thought you might like these!” Inside were four brand new 78 records (Gene Krupa, Spike Jones, Kid Orry and Duke Ellington).
Another time he grunted, “I notice that you like bright coloured shirts.”
A few days later later he gave me a couple of those Hawaiian shirts that people were wearing in the late 1950s.
“You don’t wear those shirts I gave you a few months back,” he queried.
I didn’t have the heart to tell him that I had binned them.
Bugger me dead if they didn’t come back into fashion six months later.
A lot of people didn’t like Fred’s grumpy moods but he was good to me and anyone that can put John Buckby through a window can’t be all bad!

Vale John Walker.

I have been advised by the family of John Walker that sadly John passed away on Friday, 31 March, 2017, after a very long illness.
John who started at the Old Guv in the 1960s was a very good hot metal compositor and worked on several staffs.
John loved betting on the ponies along with his good friend Harry Kinder, Jack Findlay and Jack Wells.
But he hated trying to listen to a race on the electric wireless under the stairs opposite the Intertype Room.
This was because three young lads, Abo, Meggsie and Danny would stamp up and down on the stairs making it impossible to hear the race..
John’s moment was to come at Netley when he set up The Walker Cup for Lunch Time Cricket.
It was highly successful providing lots of fun for all those who took part.
After leaving the Guv, John worked in the Graphic Arts industry for a number of years.
John who didn’t drink had a long history of liver and blood circulation problems.
I am sure we all wish the Walker family our sincerest condolences at this difficult time.
The family have notified that there will be a Private Funeral Service.
Rest in Peace Whiskey…
Alex Riley