Stanley Blackford

Story

Nostalgia and regrets were crowded out from my mind by excitement and a sense of adventure as the Norwegian Cargo Vessel Elisabeth Bakke slipped its mooring at Calcutta on the 29th of February, 1948, and glided down the Hooghly River toward the open sea. Along with seven other passengers, I watched the urban sprawl, with palm trees breaking the skyline, fall behind and give way to jungle as night engulfed us.

I, Captain Stan Blackford of the Indian Army, 27 years of age and single, was part of the Anglo-Indian Diaspora. I was leaving the land of my birth and my loved ones to embrace a brave new future in Australia, beguiled by the glossy brochures published by the Australian Department of Immigration showing pictures of large cities, golden beaches and pretty girls galore. ‘Australia Wants You!’ was the message proclaimed on nearly every page.

An Anglo-Indian\’s life in India prior to World War II had not been an enviable one. Hated by the Indian intelligentsia as lackeys of the British overlords and despised by the British who treated us like dirt, we were the meat in the social and political sandwich. We were the buffer between the British and the Indians, and we did our masters\’ dirty work.

Anglo-Indians filled junior positions in the railways, the customs, the post and telegraph services and other Government Departments, but promotions to the higher grades were blocked. Those jobs were reserved for Englishmen recruited in England, whose starting salaries were three times what an Anglo-Indian could ever hope to earn.

Most Anglo-Indian men served part-time in the Auxiliary Force (India), the paramilitary force that was first to be called out in times of emergency to deal with riots and insurrections. The rioters they fired on were often men who worked under them in their day jobs as factory supervisors. When shots had been fired and blood spilt, these civilian-soldiers returned to their day jobs of supervising a labour force that contained many of the erstwhile rioters. It exacerbated the tensions between Anglo-Indians and Indians while the British were not affected in the least.

The British had used our community for centuries to serve their ends. Now they no longer needed us and were leaving us behind to an uncertain fate. A vitriolic pamphlet distributed in Bombay declared, ‘No, we do not want them (the Anglo-Indians). We never did and we never shall. India has fought alone and India shall continue to fight alone. Give them the boot.’

These thoughts were pushed to the back of my mind as the familiar shores of India receded and had been completely forgotten by the time we docked in Fremantle two weeks later.

World War II had brought thousands of a new type of British official to India. They did not seem to know or care about the racial demarcations. Distinctions between Europeans and Anglo-Indians often became blurred. Anglo-Indian officers in the Merchant navy were often appointed to British and American ships. They were accepted as Europeans on European pay scales and took their discharge overseas, becoming British in the process.

My brother, a marine engineer, joined a British ship and thus became British. I was commissioned into the Indian Army as a King\’s Commissioned Indian Officer on the Indian pay scale, lower than the British Officers\’ scale. My brother could settle in Australia if he wanted to, but I was prohibited under the White Australia policy , until I produced my father\’s and paternal grandfather\’s birth certificates to the Australian immigration authorities who then granted me permission to settle.

What a joy, then, to become part of Australia\’s egalitarian society where I am as good as everybody else. I am no longer a second class citizen and proudly accepted a commission in the Australian Army Reserve. I bought a motorcycle and went dancing every Saturday and Sunday evening until I found myself an Australian girl friend.

After three and one half years, I married a South Australian lass. We raised four children, eight grandchildren and two great grandchildren. After 53 years of marriage she fell victim to lung cancer.

I enjoy the quality of life that this country affords and I revel in being part of a dynamic society that is using the resources of this rich land to provide opportunities that I had never dreamed of previously: opportunities for better education, culture, housing and living standards.

And I am pleased that my country, Australia, is a leader in forging a better world, attempting to bring peace and stability and prosperity to those who are not as well off as we are.

I am proud to call myself Australian.

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