TED SERONG The Life of an Australian Counter-Insurgency Expert
Anne Blair
Published by Oxford University Press 2002
During the 1960s, with the exception if the Vietnam
War Victoria Cross winners, Ted Serong was probably the best known individual
Australian soldier. It is
therefore entirely appropriate that the Army History Series should devote a
volume to him.
Anne Blair ranges widely across the events of
Serong’s long life. She produces a
convincing case that Serong was an excellent tactician and trainer, and shows
also that many of his interventions at the military operational level were
productive. However, the
repetitive use of the word ‘strategy’ and its variations in an apparent attempt
to give greater significance to Serong’s achievements, when ‘operational’ might
be a more appropriate word, becomes a distraction. Also, Blair’s descriptions of some of his actions at the
real strategic (government interface) level suggest that Serong did not always
understand the processes and priorities of governments, particularly in
democracies.
Perhaps it would have been better to leave Serong as
he is best pictured – the exemplar of the tactical proficiency of the
Australian Army in jungle warfare from the mid-1950s until the withdrawal from
Vietnam in 1972. After all, as this
book records, he was a pivotal influence in achieving that level of tactical
excellence. That, in itself, is
surely a worthwhile achievement (and monument) for one man.
Anne Blair portrays the respect with which the
Serong family held the pre-Second World War Staff Corps. Given the later events in Serong’s
life, one wonders if he still had that respect in the final decade of the
Twentieth Century, when he saw and regretted the loss of the traditions of the
Citizen Forces. Other writers,
such as Albert Palazzo, have demonstrated that this loss was at least partially
the result of the actions (or inactions) of the regular officer corps. Like David Horner (writing in Crisis of Command in 1978), Serong came
to the conclusion that officers with flexibility and imagination could best be
developed by service with the citizen forces - not a popular concept these
days!
The influence of his religion on Serong’s life is
well recounted in the book. In
today’s multicultural society, few might now recall the sectarianism that gave
a subordinate position to Catholics in Australian society in the early part of
the Twentieth Century. The attempt
of the Catholic Church to break out of that subordinate position by educating
selected children was an influence in Serong’s schooling (where he met and
formed associations with other Catholics who became well known in future years,
like B.A. Santamaria). Also, his
early contacts in Burma were Catholics, as were many of the Vietnamese with
whom he worked from 1962 to 1975.
Anne Blair shows how Serong, with great prescience,
recognised during the Second World War that Australia’s future lay in the
Pacific, not in the Middle East.
Others more senior and experienced would take many years to accept this
reality! She also shows that a
lesson Serong absorbed early in his time in Asia in the 1960s was the need for
military forces to match their ambitions and tactics with the available level
of resources. In Burma, he was
advised that the Burmese navy found that ‘When our young officers go to
Britain, they see lots of big ships, and they come back and want them
here. That sort of thing is not
for us’. In Vietnam, Serong
commented on the American tendency to place ‘too much reliance on forthcoming
mechanical marvels’. He considered
that the Vietnamese Armed Forces improved as the level of American support
declined.
Throughout his active life, Serong was driven by a
sense of purpose based on a feeling that he had somehow been ‘chosen’. In some people, this form of
self-belief could have led to delusions of grandeur, but he seemed successfully
to avoid these. It is unfortunate
that his marriage seems to have essentially ended in a ‘parting of the ways’
during his long service in Vietnam in pursuit of his life’s goals, and not to
have recovered after he returned to Australia, yet this did not seem to make
him bitter.
While Serong remained active after the Vietnam War
ended (when he was almost 60), he seems to have kept a sense of proportion
often lacking in driven people. In
his later years, he pushed ideas for Australian defence, and became involved
with the unofficial militia movement and the One Nation Party. Again, however, he seemed to avoid any
drift into extremism, and, as Anne Blair recounts, may have exerted some moderating
influence, specifically warning against ‘New Guardism’ on one occasion.
In his later years, when defence became less
fashionable in the community, and the concept of citizen service became less
fashionable in the Army, he supported both an active defence effort and
expansion of the citizen forces.
Yet he also displayed the abiding weakness of many in the Australian
forces – an inability to understand the strategic/government level of defence
planning. The tactical excellence
of the Australian Army in jungle warfare during the Malaya/Vietnam period and
the training system established at Canungra by Serong are his legacy, but his
actual influence at the strategic level was limited.
The picture that emerges of Ted Serong is in some
ways the idealised picture of the ANZAC legend. He was the boy from the (religious) wrong side of the tracks
who joined the citizen forces, overcame apparent social prejudice to gain entry
to Duntroon and become a regular officer, then went on to become an exemplar of
the Australian tradition of tactical excellence. As a senior officer, he retained his empathy with the junior
soldiers (witness his joining a nervous soldier in jumping off the tower at
Canungra) and both his respect for and the respect of the senior non-commissioned
officers. Whatever his weaknesses,
this is surely a worthwhile legacy.
JOHN DONOVAN
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