My name is Maureen Hodge, formerly Maureen Miles. I was in the Citizen Military Forces (CMF) now known as the Army Reserve. I enlisted in the Women’s Royal Australian Army Corps (WRAAC) as a Private in 1968, discharging in 1971 as Corporal.
Being a Reservist allowed you to keep your day job but included all the training of a career soldier. You were paid by the Army and your employer was obligated to give time off for training. We did Parade one night a week and one weekend a month and then had a yearly two-week camp.
Our Parade uniform was a pale green dress with epaulets and lots of shinny brass buttons. Our shoes were sensible black lace-ups with thick heels - ugly, but oh so comfortable for all that marching. We were issued with a patent black leather bag which we wore over our left shoulder (leaving our right arm free to salute the officers). It was topped off with a bottle green beret sporting our brass Corps Badge - of which we were all very proud!
I loved that uniform. I felt I stood out from others. People knew what it was. Today people say things like, -thank you for your service- and it’s special. In the 60s it was very unusual for a woman to go into the military, very unusual.
Women were quite separate from the men whilst training at Victoria Barracks. Upon graduating to the Corps, I chose to join Supply & Transport as a Driver. Unlike the female soldiers of today we were not allowed to have anything to do with weapons – something I was disappointed to find out!
After Basic Training, we did a recruit camp at Singleton for two weeks which - looking back at it – was great fun, but at the time I thought it was torture. We had to clean toilets and pick up rubbish. We’d walk around with toilet brushes in our hands and take photos of ourselves peeling potatoes and all those things that you see in the movies that recruits do. We wore ‘giggle’ hats (the classic Army bucket hat) and lived in horrible old barracks that should have been demolished years before.
The Sergeant would come in for bed inspections and drop a twenty-cent piece on the blanket. If it didn’t bounce, she’d rip the blankets off and we’d have to make it again.
I ended up becoming a Driving Instructor. When the new girls came through, I took them in the great big crash-box Fords with manual turning signals. It was a big lever we had to pull, and this steel hand went up. My bum lifted when changing gears because you couldn’t adjust the seat. You’d have to jump down from the cabin it was so high off the ground.
We never served with the men, we never marched with them, we never wore the same uniform. Now the girls in the Army Reserve wear the ‘camo’, they wear the same uniform, they can fire rifles. We never were allowed to touch them. I’d love to be part of it today. I’d love to get in a set of camo with goop on my face. We did the same training, we crawled on the ground, we had night camps and we got dropped off in the bush and we had to find our own way back – just like the blokes.
It was real serious basic training. It was the same as being in the regular Army. We had to go through all the same exams, we were tested. It was full on Army training, and we got paid for it as well. We got a cheque twice a year and that was a little bonus. Sometimes I felt like I should be paying the government as I had such fun.
After parade we would go into the OR’s Mess [other ranks]. If you walked into the mess and still had your beret on, everyone would look at you and count to 5. If they got to 5 and you hadn’t taken it off, you had to shout the mess. Little traditions.
remember going to the first intake of the ‘Nasho’s’ (the conscripted men) who went to Vietnam. They built a big, state-of-the-art barracks for them. We went to see the first lot at their passing out parade and off they went to Vietnam. I signed to go to Vietnam, but I never made it, thank God. I felt sorry for the reception those boys got when they came back.
I don’t regret a day that I spent in the Army. I loved the pomp and ceremony, I loved marching. We used to do lots of marching around Victoria Barracks. We’d have bagpipes. The hairs on the back of my neck would stand up and I can still do the march now. I just loved everything about it.
Maureen Miles F22166. You never forget your Army number - that’s instilled in you. I still struggle remembering my driver’s license, but F22166 I’ll never forget.
Very few people know about my service. When it does come up, people say “What, you were in the Army?” I had to sit exams to get my Corporal’s stripes - that was an achievement - I got the first stripe then I got the second one.
I was proud of my service. I loved every minute of being a soldier even with all the hard work I enjoyed great times and made lots of friends.
This is the story of Maureen Hodge as told to Carla Edwards.
