Name: Violet Barling

Age: 97
Occupation during 1939: Mother of three children under five when her husband, Forestry Commission officer John (Jack) Barling, was trapped and died burning fire breaks near Toolangi.
Age at time of fire: 33
Location of interview: Mansfield

"They said, “It’s about Jack, Vi”, and I said, “Oh, what’s happened?” They said, “He’s been caught in the fires.” And they said he was dead."

I was living in Pascoe Vale South on the day that he lost his life. He was up in Toolangi to assist the forestry officer, who was having a very rough time. They were burning firebreaks and then all of a sudden the wind came up and they were caught. He was away from home that weekend too.

On the morning he died I came out and I was sweeping the front verandah. My sister and brother-in-law had popped in on me from Canberra the day before, and I had said to them, well Jack’s not home, I don’t know when he’ll be back. And they were still in bed and I called out, “How are you?” It was a very hot morning, and I said to them, it’s going to be a terrible day. That was on the Sunday morning, the morning he died.

"On the Sunday he died, it was 110 degrees. On the Tuesday when they had the funeral, it was 112 degrees, and then Black Friday was 114 degrees. It was a very bad time."

I didn’t know ‘til the Monday morning, when Grandfather and Grandma came along to pick up the children. Then they came back a little bit later and I thought, that’s funny. They said, “It’s about Jack, Vi”, and I said, “Oh, what’s happened?” They said, “He’s been caught in the fires.” And they said he was dead.

So I rang my mother at Romsey and told her about it, and I wouldn’t like to say what she said about how this awful family of ours has so many widows. But of course, she was a widow with seven children. They were grown up at that particular time, but she knew what it was like to be a widow.

On the day he died, he was working with the forest overseer at Toolangi, Charles Demby. They had to go out to Toolangi - Glenburn was the actual spot, but it’s in the Toolangi area. They were burning a fire break, and at lunchtime they sat down to have a rest. After they had lunch, they said, “Oh well, we’ll go back and see how the fire is going”. And all of a sudden - because you do get these winds up here you know, and it was a strong wind - they were caught.

"Just think of all the other women who lost their husbands at that time. I can’t imagine it. I know there were over 70 deaths in those fires."

And it went on from there. On the Sunday that he died, I think it was 110 degrees. On the Tuesday when they had the funeral, I think it was 112 degrees, and then there was Black Friday on the following Friday - that was 114 degrees. It was a very bad time, but there were so many deaths. That was the dreadful thing about it. These things happen to people, some of them really dreadful. And just think of all the other women who lost their husbands at that particular time. I can’t imagine - I know there were over 70 deaths in those fires.

I said goodbye to Jack when he left on Saturday morning to go to work. I think that morning he had to go in by tram. I said goodbye to him in the house as you’d say goodbye to anybody, and then I went out on the front verandah, and I waved at him as he went down around the corner. And that was the last I saw of him.

Life just had to go on. You had to feed your children. Mary was four, Jim was two and Jennifer was seven months and was still being breast-fed. I didn’t burst into tears or anything like that. I bet I cried a little bit, especially as I was hanging things on the line.

"I went out on the front verandah, and I waved at him as he went down around the corner. And that was the last I saw of him."

But it was just one of those things. I don’t remember crying a terrific amount until perhaps that night. You know, when I went to bed and thought about it, because I remember when my father died. I was at school in Melbourne and I came home just before he died, because he was in a bad state, and I was actually there when he died. So you know, I knew what it felt like, or I had an idea. As I said, my mother said what a dreadful family to have so many widows! I’ve got three sisters and they’re all widows.

I didn’t go to the funeral. Of course, women didn’t go to funerals in those times. They took Jim with them because he was about two. He was old enough to walk, and I think Grandpa took him with him in his arms, but women didn’t go to funerals as a rule in those days.

As I say, he was away from Monday to Friday and that was a help because I’d gotten away from the idea of him coming home at nights. That happened a couple of times when he had to camp doing jobs for the forest commission. At one particular time, he was away for several weeks on end, way out in this area, so we got used to him being away. I don’t know, it’s just one of those things I think you accept in life.

"He said, “You know, he wouldn’t have been burned to death, he would have been overcome by the smoke”. It was just a comforting thought. It’s a dreadful thing to think of him being burned."

I remember one comforting thing. We had a little sermon in the house on the day of the funeral, and our family doctor was there. I was bearing up alright, I think, and he just put his arm around my shoulder and said, “You know, he wouldn’t have been burned to death, he would have been overcome by the smoke”. It was just a comforting thought. It’s something you’d thought about, you know and it’s a dreadful thing, a horrible thought to think of him being burned.

You see, he collapsed at one end. Evidently Jack and Charlie were trying to hide, to get away from the fire. There was a great log there, and he was at one end of the log and Charlie was at the other end. They were looking for shelter away from the fire. But while they were trying to escape the fire, they were overcome by the smoke.

The only time I felt a little bit sad was on a Saturday evening, after I put the children to bed. Now this was in the middle of summer, and I’d look out the front and there would be people walking down the street, going off to the pictures or something like that - the usual Saturday evening thing. That was the only time I sort of felt a little bit lonely. And I had that funny sort of feeling. I didn’t cry or anything like that, but you know, there they were, off to the pictures or something else. We wouldn’t have been doing it ourselves probably, but it was the only time when I felt a little bit lonely.

But everybody was just so helpful, the general public were wonderful. And the Lord Mayor’s Fund assisted us for years. I don’t know all the things we would need, but if you’d lost a home, or you’d lost your husband, you might be stranded for a lot of things, mightn’t you? Just imagine, yourself. But family helped in every way. Forty years is a long time, so if you think these charitable funds don’t always help, they do.

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