A recent Newcastle protest against nuclear power was a timely reminder of how World War II finally ended 79 years ago this month.
Anti-nuclear campaigners were commemorating the horrific events of atomic bombs being dropped to utterly devastate the Japanese cities of Hiroshima and Nagasaki three days apart in August 1945.
The anti-war stand, held in Peace Park at Tighes Hill, reminded people that up to 246,000 people (mostly innocent civilians) were killed as a result of the US detonating two A-bombs to end the Pacific War.
A QUICK END TO WAR
Six days after the bombing of Nagasaki, Japan then surrendered to the Allies on August 15, 1945. (Germany had separately surrendered in May 1945).
Since the bombings created a charred, radioactive wasteland for miles in both cities, authorities have since defended the decision, claiming if the bombs had not been dropped a further one million casualties might have occurred from an Allied invasion of Japan, including a naval blockade to first starve the population.
Others add that some of Japan's hard-core, top military brass actually wanted to fight on but were only swayed to surrender when the Soviet Union suddenly declared war on it.
One of the oddest and, to me, most fascinating incidents of Nagasaki's destruction was the involvement of some Hunter Valley prisoners of war (POWs) transported there to work, digging air-raid shelters, repairing bridges and working in foundries.
Their largely unknown story only seemed to emerge years afterwards in the pages of the Newcastle Herald and has now probably been forgotten.
During an air raid alert, from memory, the emaciated POWs were herded down into an underground shelter.
When they finally came back up, unscathed, into the sunlight, they were shocked to discover the city had disappeared. All around them, amid the scorched, twisted metal of factory and house rubble, were dazed and horribly burned survivors.
The appalling scene was later described by a Japanese military photographer as "hell on earth".
The initial death toll was recorded in Nagasaki as up to 80,000 civilians, plus 150 soldiers and 13 unlucky POWs.
Nagasaki had hosted one group of 169 Allied POWs, including 24 starving Australians who were working near the epicentre of the dropped second Atom bomb, called Fat Man.
Sensing the war was ending, the POWs had feared for their lives if Japan was ever invaded.
Earlier, conventional Allied bombing and massive firebombing had damaged 64 Japanese cities.
Ironically Nagasaki had escaped much of the nation's destruction, but bad weather on Thursday, August 9, 1945, meant the American aircrew carrying the second atom bomb were diverted there from the original intended target of the armaments manufacturing city of Kokura.
Nagasaki was flattened, preceded by an intense, brilliant white flash with a mushroom cloud and a searing curtain of heat flinging debris everywhere.
It was a miracle anyone survived the fierce blast and the horrendous radiation effects afterwards.
McNAUGHTON MEMORIES
Wartime tales were front and centre when former long-serving Newcastle lord mayor John McNaughton rang Weekender recently.
He'd just caught up watching the local historic documentary Fortress Newcastle from the popular Stories of Our Town series of a few years ago.
The doco also rekindled a lot of personal World War II memories for McNaughton, a sort of unknown history revisited, you might say.
And that's because of the largely unsung work of our coastal patrol vessels, on which his father had served during the war.
Despite being under-resourced and with little protection in any enemy action, these volunteer mariners went out in boats to safeguard the Hunter coastline night after night with scant regard for their own safety.
Novocastrians were soon understandably jittery, especially after the Japanese submarine's surprise shelling of the city under cover of darkness in June 1942.
At least 20 shells rained down on the sleeping city. Our Fort Scratchley guns then fired back to rout the enemy.
"After that attack, there was another scare a couple of days later. More firing at the enemy offshore. Other people might remember it," McNaughton said.
"My father was out at sea and he always vowed and declared that our coastal defences were shooting at ... passing whales in the dark. I was only aged five or six years back then.
"My father the next day took me along to see the commander of the pilot vessel Birubi moored in port near the humpback foreshore bridge [over the Perkins Street boat harbour now filled in].
"Here we had morning tea with its captain for Dad to tell him what had happened at sea the night before.
"There were about 20 men in each coastal patrol unit and one of them had to own his own boat. But if anything happened, there was no protection for them and no uniforms.
"They were issued, however, with trousers and a cap.
"To have an official jacket or greatcoat you had to tailor your own.
"Material was provided but Dad never got around to making his and Mum after the war [when clothing was in short supply] made up a coat for herself."
McNaughton was also especially keen to promote the vital role of women working on the assembly lines at industries like Lysaght, Stewarts & Lloyds and Rylands, putting together military items like Sten guns.
"I believe this role has never been properly acknowledged. It should be," he said.
McNaughton said another fascinating facet of wartime activity was illustrated by his father-in-law who was an outstanding fitter and turner.
"He had a lathe in his home, but it was in a spare bedroom where he worked. He was incredibly skilful. Precision work by eye.
"In those wartime days, people [at home] were making firing pins for military guns, but they were sworn to secrecy.
"Someone else might be making [rifle] barrels. Incredible work and there were no computerised lathes back then.
"There were a lot of people working like that."
DOLPHIN WATCH
Are we missing some dolphins up at Port Stephens and should we be alarmed?
Ages ago, when the region promoted itself to tourists as a "water wonderland", there were an estimated 160 dolphins frolicking about amid the picture postcard scenery.
But by the last estimate, there are now between 90 and 120 bottlenose dolphins present in the vast waterway.
So, are we really still missing at least 40 of the popular mammals?
After this weekend hopefully we'll know for sure after a long-awaited census update of the wild aquatic animals gets under way.
Relying on volunteer spotters, the organisation ORRCA has arranged a counting of dolphin heads, or tails, in Port Stephens for one hour on August 18 between 11am and noon.
ORRCA, or the Organisation for the Rescue and Research of Cetaceans in Australia, has been around since 1985. It came about after a mass stranding of some 62 false killer whales at Crowdy Head on the NSW North Coast.
The organisation bills itself as the only volunteer wildlife carers group in NSW licensed to be involved with marine mammal rescue. It regularly works to assist whales, dolphins, seals and dugongs in distress.
At least about 20 regularly spotted Port Stephens dolphins can be readily identified by distinctive individual markings on their fins.
