Loch Memorial Reserve hits 100

By Andrew Paloczi

LIKE many batsmen who graced its playing surface, Loch Memorial Reserve has notched its century, with community members gathering there on Saturday, November 5, to reminisce about its role as a community facility and a place of remembrance for Loch’s fallen servicemen.

Sergeant Brett Wood MG DSM was the latest soldier to be honoured there, having lost his life in action on May 23, 2011 in Afghanistan, stepping on an improvised explosive device while evacuating the injured.

His bravery saw him posthumously awarded the Distinguished Service Medal, and the United States Meritorious Service Medal.

He was previously awarded the Medal for Gallantry in 2006, after leading a commando team in hazardous circumstances during clearance operations in the Chora Valley in Afghanistan.

In his youth, Brett played footy with Loch until the club folded in 1993, and represented Poowong Loch in cricket as a promising fast bowler.

One of those sharing sporting memories at the centenary event, Ray Humphrey, has the Loch Memorial Reserve grandstand named in his honour, having first played footy at the ground, aged 14.

He went on to play over 700 games of cricket, representing Loch and later Poowong Loch, earning Life Member status, an honour Ray was also afforded by Loch Football Club.

Ray fondly recalls playing alongside opening bowler Lyle Davenport, describing him as highly accurate.

As well as celebrating the important roles Loch Memorial Reserve has played for the local community, the efforts of community members to serve on its committee and in other voluntary capacities throughout its history were also celebrated at the centenary gathering.

Ray’s wife Barbara was one of the volunteers ensuring the smooth running of the event.

Ray was already a member of the Loch Memorial Reserve committee when she married him 63 years ago, and both have a strong attachment to the reserve.

The reserve continues to be run by a Committee of Management, not South Gippsland Shire Council.

Given its ability to bring community members together throughout its 100 years, it was apt that the reserve’s centenary was acknowledged by holding a family fun day.

Children enjoyed an assortment of games and the spellbinding exploits of magician Lachlan Wilde, with Indi and Hunter Howard delighted to meet his friendly rabbit.

After dicey recent weather, the sun shone on Loch Memorial Reserve for its special day.

Land for Loch Memorial Reserve was purchased by the local community in 1921, and it was given its simple but meaningful name by the public.

The community’s tribute to locals who sacrificed their lives is displayed at the entrance gate.

“In honour of those who fell in the Great War 1914-1918. Given by the residents of Loch and District,” the inscription reads.

Sadly for Loch, its surrounds and the wider world, WWI was not as hoped the war to end all wars, with subsequent local losses also recorded at the Memorial Reserve, mostly in WWII.

Attendees at the centenary event had the chance to buy a small book, ‘Reserved Space’, containing the sacred site’s rich history and the poignant memories of locals for whom it has long been a second home.

One treasured memory was that of local farmer ‘Tucky’ who thrilled spectators at the reserve with daring tractor exploits in his nearby paddocks, negotiating steep slopes as he fed out hay.

“When it was wet, the tractor would slide sideways and the trailer would try to overtake him and send him out of control into the gully at the bottom of the hill, but he always seemed to recover control and continue on his way,” Murray Moore said of his days playing cricket at the reserve in the seventies and eighties.

Such was the farmer’s reputation, the booklet includes a poem in his honour, borrowed from a Banjo Patterson ditty.

The Man From Allsop Creek (first verse) by Grieg Barry, Paul Knox and Roly Jones

There was movement at the Loch Station, coz the word had passed around, 

That Tucky’s old grey Fergy was on the footy ground.

He’d been on his morning ritual, rounding up the herd, 

When the bottom wheel had slipped on a steamy cow turd.

All round the valley, Tucky’s voice could be heard, 

Oh my golly gosh, my tractor’s slipped out of third.