Note from Ginger: Margaret Tanner, an award-winning author from Australia, and a very good friend, even though we've only met via the Internet, has come to my rescue during health issues and a busy time, and agreed to guest post for me. I'm so proud to have her at Dishin' It Out, any time because she, indeed, is among the best. So, rolling out the red carpet for Margaret Tanner, once again:
VIETNAM WAR – MAKE LOVE NOT WAR
At the risk of revealing my age, I have to
say the 1960’s was my time. Mini skirts, stilettos (I’ve bunions to prove it),
beehive hair dos, I couldn’t quite manage that, although I did tease the life
out of my hair and regularly put in coloured rinses, French Plum or Rich
Burgundy, were the colours I favoured. I can remember when the Beatles made
their first visit out to Australia. A couple of girls I worked with were lucky
enough to get tickets to their concerts, (we hated them, of course), they came
to work the next days minus their voices, and stayed that way for about a week,
because they had screamed so much.
We used manual typewriters in those days.
One original and four copies of everything we typed. I don’t know how many
blouses I ruined because I got ink on the sleeves from changing the typewriter
ribbon or the black stuff off the carbon paper.
During this time the Vietnam War loomed in
the background. The Australian government introduced conscription. It was in the
form of a ballot, or the death lottery as many called it. All twenty year old
males had to register, their birth dates were put into a barrel and a certain
number were drawn out, and those young men had to report to the army and
subsequently many of them were sent to Vietnam. This of course caused severe
bitterness and division in the community, and even though the government denied
it, was subject to abuse and unfairness. Rich men kept their sons at university
so they didn’t have to go.
Conscientious objectors were thrown into prison. Only sons were called
up, yet families with two or three eligible males didn’t have any of their boys
called up.
I only had one brother, and I can clearly
remember my father (a World War 2 veteran) vowing, that if his son got called
up, he would protest on the steps of the parliament with a placard on his back.
There were protests marches, anti-war
demonstrations, and things often turned violent. Not that I went to any of the
protest marches, but a cousin of mine did and got trampled by a police horse. A
very turbulent time in our history and I was right in the middle of it.
BLURB: MAKE LOVE NOT WAR
Make love, not war was the catch cry of the
1960’s. Against a background of anti-war demonstrations, hippies and free love,
Caroline’s life is in turmoil. Her soldier brother is on his way to the jungles
of Vietnam. She discovers she is pregnant with her wealthy boss’ baby, and her
draft dodger friend is on the run and needs her help.
Margaret, waving from Texas. So nice to "see" you online. Your new book sounds packed with events to keep readers happy. Best wishes!
ReplyDeleteI remember those times too! "Make Love, Not War," sounds intriguing!
ReplyDeleteHi Caroline,
ReplyDeleteHow are you, long time no see. Thank you so much for dropping by, I really appreciate it.
Kind regards
Margaret
Hi asnn,
ReplyDeleteThanks for dropping by, Oh yes, the 1960's was my time. I got my first job, first boyfriend, and got married. Unforgettable.
Cheers
Margaret
Hello, Margaret,
ReplyDeleteI was in high school in the sixties, in the U.S. Our whole family marched in anti-war demonstrations. It was a time of great change.
I love your cover - but somehow the styles look more forties than sixties.
Enjoyed your post! You may remember me as your editor at TWRP for Frontier Wife.
ReplyDelete