Vale "Fonce" Parer

Death of Another Member of the Famous NG Family in Sydney

TERRITORIANS everywhere will learn with regret of the death of Alphon sus Francis Parer, at his residence, Plaza Hotel, Sydney, on September 8.

Most' Territorians knew “Fonce” before the war in New Guinea and) their friend ship continued through the evacuee years when he became the licencee of the Plaza Hotel in Sydney. Hotels and New Guinea —either one or the other, and sometimes both —seem to be in the Parer blood.

LATE in 1936. I was sitting one evening in a camp on a creek about three days’ walk behind But. in New Guinea. It was one of those periods when the men were temporarily absent on various business and I had been hold ing the fort alone, trying to give an imitation cf a gold-miner-true. I had just returned from down the creek, where I had “washed up” the sluice box, and was sitting at the rough limbohm table weighing up the day’s takings.

Suddenly there was a commotion out side, and a man and a dog and some carriers appeared before me. The man wore khaki shorts, a woollen singlet and an old “donkey’s breakfast” hat; he leaned on a stick and said: “Hello! I’m Fonce Parer.”

He also looked surprised, as well he might. At that time our camp straddled a creek that was part of the main road to But. You burst out of the bushes and there you were, so to speak, in our front room. I guess he hadn’t been expecting to find a ragged-looking girl weighing gold-dust, just there.

Anyway, we had the boys put up his bed-sail in a spare house and he stayed the night. He was lucky: I had made bread that day, and the cook-boy had a large saucepan of curried goura pigeon cooking on the fire. I was mighty glad to have his company; I never pretended to enjoy those nights alone in the splen did isolation of the New Guinea jungle.

We sat up late and talked about most things under the New Guinea sun—in cluding my unfortunate run of fever.

Ponce could not exactly qualify for membership of a Cheer-Up Society Vhen it came to these things. “You aren’t a good colour, are you?” he remarked.

“Low fever? M’mm? Want to be careful with that. It often leads to Blackwater.”

As these had been my own fears for some time, I was not preciselv uplifted.

I brought out and show’ed him the fifteen little vellow tablets of the then new-fangled atebrin, which the doctor in Wewak nad sent me; but we both agreed that it would be better if I did not take them alone—for fear I went into some kind of a fit—but should wait until the men came home.

I was sorry to see him go next morning, leaving me to the bush and the boys and more splendid isolation. But, before he went, he presented me with two large oranges which were the most beautiful things I had seen for a long time. He had just come from Wewak, where he nad had a meal on the “Macdhui.” That is where the oranges came from. Small things, in those circumstances, make the greatest impression. Ever since, whenever I heard of Fonce Parer, I have thought al t° i_ of large, juicy oranges.

I had nothing to give him in return except some of my camp-oven bread. He went off with a chunk of it in his ruck-

Sb.Ck,

WE saw nothing of Fonce for almost a year. Then we all moved further out, and he became our nearest

neighbour. While his camp was being built he lived with us, and most after noons we would wander down to his place to drink billy-tea and eat crackers and butter in his half-finished home.

One afternoon, when there was a crowd of us there, Fonce suddenly excused him self. After a while he came back, looking white about the gills. “I had a funny turn, out there,” he said, “I coughed up some blood.”

Believing that we knew all about Fonce and his fancies we chorused: “Don’t be an old hen, Fonce! You have an im agination a mile long. Sit down, and have your tea,”

Fohce sat down and said nothing fur ther; but a couple of months later, shortly after his wife had come to join him, he had a severe lung haemorrhage which virtually put an end to his career in New Guinea.

It was characteristic of the man that, although anticipatory in the greatest deg ree, once the worst had happened he had no thought but to fight. When he passed our camp, carried on a stretcher, for the hellish trip out, he had already made up his mind exactly what he would do to beat the disease. rNCE was born in Victoria and spent some years on King Island, in Bass Strait, before he went to New Guinea to join the rest of the Parer clan there.

He was the brother of Cyril and Ben Parer, and the cousin of Ray, Kevin and Bob—all well known in New Guinea, as were also his mother and father, who were popular hotel-keepers in Wau some years before the war. Fonce was ex tremely proud of his young brother Damien, who became world-famous dur ing the war as a cameraman. Damien was killed in action while covering the operations of the American Marines on Guam.

The Parer family represented all that was good in New Guinea pioneering. All who knew them will regret the passing of yet another member of the clan. As well as the large circle of brothers, sisters and cousins, Fonce is survived by his wife Mrs. Nancy Parer, of the Plaza Hotel,’

Sydney JUDY TUDOR.