Sydneyiider

Annual Mayhem Off The Night Of May 24

Sydney has survived another night of May 24: The ex osions, the reek of gun-powder, the pall of smoke thousands ; feet high; the terrified domestic cats; the howling dogs— id all in honour of a formidable old lady called Victoria who is been gathered to her fathers for over 60 years but who ive her birth date to an occasion called Empire Day.

empires are now unfashionable, it’s these days called Commonth Day, and for the kids of ey the glories of what once was, le attenuated relics of what still re far outshone by what comes —to wit, Cracker Night. acker Night’s big time for Sydkids, lucrative for shop-keepers, fer fire brigades and airline »; a source of wonder to visitors haven’t experienced one; and a ;n opportunity for larrikinism h is never far below the surface. •r weeks beforehand, bonfires, giant funeral pyres, composed ee loppings, old tyres, old fure, rubbish and dead leaves ar along every suburban street, it lot, beach-side and park. the inner suburbs, in what used “ called the slums of Surry Hills, lloomooloo and Redfern, ese-Australians, Maltese-Austra- Italian-Australians join Austra- \ustralians in a concerted effort utwit police and fire brigades mild bonfires in the asphalt :s r a month before the event l and department stores are full re-works—from “hungers” with lethal kick of a depth charge, igh the big and small rockets, »irley stuff of Flower Pots and

Golden Rain and variegated cathe rine wheels, to the crackers of small size and satisfying noise, And as soon as the dark falls on May 24, the party is on. At first here and there, just as isolated feu de joie, but within the hour some thing that has turned into a creeping barrage with the intensity of the pre liminary bombardment of the landing at Tarawa.

Rockets rend the air, thousands of bonfires flare, the smoke and smell of burning rubber tyres mingles with that of burning gum leaves and scorched grass. Over all is the reek of expended gunpowder, reminiscent of some ancient battle-field, Howl of Dogs There is the howl of frightened dogs and the wail of fire-engines and police cars; drive-in theatre patrons pack up and go home when they can’t see the screen for smoke; and at Kingsford-Smith Airport, officials stand by to divert planes or close the airport down. (This year there were no diversions, due to a westerly wind; but in other years overseas airliners have had to be diverted as far as Melbourne while pilots complained of the dan ger of the distraction of bonfires that line nearby Botany Bay at intervals

of a few feet, and of the soaring rockets that roar over the approaches to the runways.) By 10 p.m. the battle is at its height. Dozens of scrub fires and paling fences have already been put out by the fire brigades, hundreds of minor mishaps attended to by am bulancemen.

The excitement reaches a point of no return as the fireworks give out and gradually subsides towards mid night, but it is not until another dawn that sanity returns to this hood lum city of two million people and the cost is counted. This year we did rather well: One teen-ager killed by a car when he was lighting crackers in a street.

One three-year-old dead from a rocket that pierced his skull.

One Youth Centre burnt down; one espresso bar, ditto.

One theatre damaged; one house partially destroyed; one launch, ditto.

One hundred bales of kapok burnt; four factories in the inner city area damaged; many acres of scrub land burnt out; backyard sheds, board fences, ditto; scores of letter boxes blown up and dozens of people with minor burns at the out-patients’ department of suburban hospitals.

The aftermath will be the usual letters to the newspapers on the madness of cracker night, the cost of which, in fireworks and damage to human life and property, would probably set up a modest housing estate or establish a new hospital wing.

Civil Authorities will say “never again”—but they will be wrong, of course. Next May 24 it will be on again, in honour of the Common wealth and, of course, Victoria, who we somehow feel would not have been amused.

Sydneyiider

At Home Base

Smoke, thunder and fire crackers are not the province only of Australia's Commonwealth Day of course. The Chinese communities in the South Pacific are expert exponents of the firecracker during Chinese New Year's Day. The smoke from them almost blots out the dragon in this scene shot in Rabaul.