A Tribute to “Bunny” Yeoman of the Sepik

Sydney Harold (“Bunny”) Yeoman was a lovable fellow. Those many who loved him were shocked and saddened to hear that he died suddenly on board ship at Fremantle, on May 9, on the very first leg of a long-projected trip to Europe.

He had been four years with us as Assistant District Officer here at Angoram, and the loss to us is a very personal one. It is only a few weeks since we said good-bye and bon voyage at a farewell party, which included the presentation of a plaster rabbit.

That pleased him greatly, he was proud of his nick-name. He was very proud, too, of his somewhat distant Scottish ancestry and one of the highlights of his holiday was to have been a tour of Scotland.

We shall miss “Bunny” coming down the road in the morning and the afternoon, always in immaculate white shirt and shorts with fringed tabs at the turn-down of his long socks, walking stick, and two polished brass badges on his Gurkha hat—“Me and Montgomery!” he would say.

We shall miss him at the afternoon social session at the Angoram pub. We shall miss him at those delightful parties which Jessie Yeoman used to give at their home, when “Bunny” having started to doze, would suddenly wake up and in a loud voice: Jessie haven’t these people any homes to go to?”

Or on being challenged in one of his extravagant arguments, would glare at the offender in a manner almost Johnsonian and clinch matters with: "Drop dead!"

To newcomers he was a trifle startling. It took quite a while to get used to him; to discern that beneath that outward manner alternately dictatorial, argumentative, or disarmingly genial, there lay a childlike simplicity of heart.

I do not know if it is true that (as they say) some people have hearts of gold. But if there are hearts of gold, “Bunny” Yeoman had one of them.— PETER ENGLAND.