Born in Estonia in 1917; the son of a fisherman and his wife (who defies classification in any other form than Jack of every other trade bar shipbuilding and fishing) on the banks of the Vortsjarv; Estonia's 3rd largest lake.
He defied his simple birth to complete his education, go to University and during his military service, rose to be a lieutenant in the Engineers of the Estonian Army. In 1939 he met my grandmother Helgi;the same year the Russians invaded. The whole of his unit was put on a train for Russia; but he escaped when they stopped for a comfort stop and hid out in the forests and rural farming areas for the next couple of years
On 22 July 1941, shortly after the start of the German invasion of Russia, he was married to Helgi and was then able to return to his home once the Russians left. Over the next three years he held a job first as a detective in the police force and later second in charge of the Civil Air Defence for Tallinn (the capital). In June 1942, my mother was born in Tallin, but soon she and my grandmother had to be sent to live with grandpa's parents to escape Russian air raids.
In 1944, with the Wehrmacht being pushed back by the Red Army, they left Estonia as refugees and managed to lie their way to Bavaria. Grandpa reasoned that this was where the Americans were and so was the best place in Germany to be when it became occupied. He barely managed to avoid being conscripted to fight for the Germans, and then barely missed out being sent back to Russia as a supposedly displaced Russian.
Having survived the war, they spent the next 4 years in a Canadian camp in northern Germany. Finally they were able to get visas to come to Australia and they landed in Sydney in late 1949. Only the men were promised jobs (generally useless time wasting and inneffective), and so Grandpa ended up digging holes in Townsville. Not content with this, he found himself his own job and worked in a factory for some time before deciding to move to South Australia where most of the Estonian migrants had ended up.
He joined the PMG as a trainee techniscian and rose up the ranks to manage a technical area. I came along in 1965 and after we moved to the Northern Territory I would be sent down to visit my grandparents during the Christmas school holidays. His relentless energy, walking, camping, swimming and extremely robust arguing (this is almost an Estonian pasttime) would keep me entertained. Although fairly stern, he had an wicked sense of humour when he wanted.
After he retired, he slowed down and settled into a fairly regular life until my Grandmother died in 2006. After that he went downhill. I won't dwell, but they were one person and without her he was fairly lost. On the ANZAC day Monday, we got news that his kidneys had failed. We visited him that night but although he reacted to voices, he didn't really know us. He passed that night.
Vale Grandpa. I know you and Grandma are back together wherever that may be.
I miss you both.