A tribute to John Spendlove.
A Life member of T8 John was a solid supporter of T8 for many years. He was instrumental in the construction of the first buildings on the Theatre 8 site and was our official electrician until age finally caught up with him. His late wife Pat was also a stalwart of the theatre. John's donation of $10,000 last year pushed along the theatre's redevelopment substantially.
John served in the Royal Marines before and during WWII and was captured by the Japanese after the sinking of the HMS Exeter in the Java Sea. He spent 4 years in a POW camp. When released and repatriated, there was no counseling, you just has to get on with life. And get on with it he did! John has given me two accounts of his experiences in the war years he has allowed me to publish. John fought another war with increasing frailty with advancing age and isolation due to deafness. He died peacefully on March 16 in his 90th year. The following is an excerpt from the Eulogy at his funeral.
Aubrey
(John) Spendlove
30/12/1917- 16/3/2007
We are celebrating the life of a remarkable man. I have had the privilege of knowing him as his doctor, but also as friend and associate through Theatre 8.
He and his darling wife Pat were opposites in many ways. She was the performer, the dancer, the pianist, the musical director. He was on the committees, making sure everything was done properly all the I’s dotted and T’s crossed. Pat would be on stage, he would be in the wings supervising the technical stuff surrounded by a cloud of smoke from THAT pipe! He and Pat were a driving force behind the Geraldton Concert Artists and later Theatre 8 when it was formed in 1974, with the amalgamation with the Geraldton Repertory Club and the Concert Artists.
John was never a performer, at least not on stage! He was on numerous committees supporting the arts including the Cultural Trust and of course Theatre 8. He was our electrician for many years, and was always there when work had to be done. It grieved him as age and infirmity and the curse of deafness caught up with him and limited his enjoyment of life and stymied his ability to take an active role in the theatre. A brief moment of joy for him was his brother Bill coming to visit from England, but alas Bill suffered a massive stroke and died some time later here in Geraldton. Although this shook John, the old war horse he was, he picked himself up and just kept going.
Men like John are rare indeed. He faced the trials of old age as stoically as the trials of the War. His generosity to the arts in Geraldton, both in time and money will never be forgotten. He could not physically help with Theatre 8’s redevelopment, but he contributed $10,000 towards it, ensuring its progress. I am delighted that Simon and Laurie were able to take him to see the building a few days before he died. They tell me he was thrilled with the result. I’d like to thank Laurie Gallop, Barry Mitchell and his devoted carer Simon Barry for looking after him so well.
I am convinced that after surviving WW2 with so many near misses (See “Nine Lives”) that he looked upon his life as a gift that so many of his mates had lost. As such he threw himself into post war life with gusto, and by giving of himself so much, I am sure he reaped back much more. The number of people he touched are in evidence today. You were one in a million mate, we will miss you. Farewell.
(Dr Ian Taylor, President, Theatre 8 Inc.)
“NINE LIVES”
IF A CAT IS THOUGHT TO HAVE NINE LIVES, HOW MANY
DOES A HUMAN HAVE???
LIFE ONE: The year was 1940 in the Mid Atlantic on the ship ROTORUA when we were torpedoed and was sinking fast. With two sailors on each side we were sliding down ropes to the lifeboat. Half way I look down and there was no lifeboat! There was no use trying to clambering back up to the deck as we were sinking too fast. No use dropping down to the sea as we would only last five minutes in the freezing sea.
MY THOUGHTS WERE ‑ THIS IS IT!!!!
LIFE TWO: Dropped into passing lifeboat eventually riding at sea anchor when at a stone's throw away surfaced a "U Boat". To my horror someone in the conning tower was pointing what looked like a machine gun at us in the boat. Good God they are going to machine gun us.
THIS IS IT!!!!
LIFE THREE: Year 1941. I was on shore leave in Plymouth having a drink in a local pub. All hell broke loose with bombs and incendiaries; the nearest shelter was half a mile away in caves across the river bridge. Part way across was straddled by bombs and incendiaries. Not a hope in crossing.
THIS IS IT!!!
LIFE FOUR: The year was 1942
we were escaping from Singapore on board HMS Exeter heading for Java, when
squadrons of Jap bombers tried to finish us off. No air protection from the Air
force. Below the steel decks it was like being in a 44 gallon drum with sledge
hammers bashing on it. A photo taken from Escort Destroyer show a number of
misses, huge water spouts with only the top of the funnels and mast showing.
THIS IS IT!!!
LIFE FIVE: 1942 Battle of
Java Sea. The HMS Exeter with cruisers and destroyers formed an allied fleet to
engage a huge Japanese fleet. A Jap shell came on board wiping out the Marine’s
AA Gun and entered the boiler room. This did not explode but finished off a
boiler. I was in charge of the shell room below when all the lights went out.
Dead silence, and no‑one moved. Didn't know if we were sinking. 
THIS IS IT!!!
LIFE SIX: At slow speed we returned to Surabaya to bury the dead. The following morning out to sea at reduced speed. Ran into Jap fleet. Looking around the shell room with not many live shells, only practise ones, when the order came to abandon ship. Over the side I went clinging to a cork mat, with no thought of sharks. (Java Sea) Not a ship in sight.
THIS IS IT!!!
LIFE SEVEN: After a time in the sea a Jap destroyer steamed fast towards us. Surely they are not going to run us down after what we had gone through?
THIS IS IT!!!
LIFE EIGHT: We were picked up by Destroyer and taken to Makasar Celebes POW camp for nearly four years. Men dying of malaria overnight and malnutrition. War over in 1945. I was bedridden with a nasty dose of Malaria. How long have I got?
THIS IS IT!!!
LIFE NINE: The dreaded disease from asbestos, mesothelioma. Worked at Wittenoom mine in the 1960s. I am having a course of vitamin A and still fighting off death. Will I make the ninth life???
"HEROES ALL”
The survivors from HMS EXETER sunk in the Java Sea 1942 were taken to a prison camp in Makasa Dutch Celebes. Some time in 1944 a party of 40 prisoners were marched to cleanup the area in the city where a number of Chinese had shops. On our minds was an idea for a bit of looting, but on returning to the camp we were paraded in front of the guard house. Something was brewing. A number of Japanese Officers and guards assembled and then we spotted a collection of Japs who seemed different. Japs! Equivalent to Nazi Gastapo!!
A Dutch Officer was there as interpreter, amidst a lot of shouting the Dutchman explained that the Chinese shops had been looted where we had been cleaning. Who is going to own up ‑ There was DEAD SILENCE amongst the prisoners and racing through my mind were the two prisoners and we all knew who they were. After much screaming and shouting a collection of Jap guards appeared waving clubs, about three times larger than a baseball bat.
Nervous tension was building up amongst the men, are they going to find the culprits?
After about an hour there wasn't any voice from the prisoners. The Japs were getting nowhere. Suddenly a Jap sergeant screamed "Put on some more", in other words to save face the 40 prisoners were to be flogged with these clubs.
To date I had not a beating. Terrifying thoughts were running through my mind when sighted these guards with these huge clubs, could be crippled for life and I'm sure that the other prisoners were thinking the same.
If we had named the culprits would they loose their heads? These thoughts kept running through my mind, if I named the persons who were responsible, could I live with the outcome? ‑ NO! It must have been the same with the other 39 men as there was dead silence.
So the beating began. The prisoner stood with legs apart and arms stretched upwards, then came the blows ‑ only two each using relays of guards. After watching the first twelve or so I was terrified. Those who fell after the first clubbing were set on whilst lying on the ground.
Then it was my turn. It's hard to describe this. As I was lifted off the ground by the first stroke, my whole body was on fire and I was numb all over. The clubs aimed at the base of the spine. After the second blow I seemed to loose my eyesight. I just managed to get back to the ranks.
We were dismissed and staggered back to our bamboo beds. It was weeks before I could stop sleeping on my stomach. Talking amongst ourselves after that event, it was a general opinion that we had done the right thing keeping quiet.