- John Brownlie, 78, Adelaide, SA, is the president of Headstone Project SA
- They find war veterans’ unmarked graves and reunite descendants with their relatives’ place of rest
- Now, John has helped track down over 100 unmarked graves
Here, John tells his story in his own words.
Eyeing the marvellous new headstone on the digger’s once unmarked grave, I felt emotional. You’ve now been honoured properly, I thought, smiling.
Growing up, I’d always been fascinated by military history.
Born in November 1946, I grew up in Hobart, Tasmania, with my father Bob finishing serving in World War II not long before I was born.
A quiet man, Dad rarely spoke about his experiences in the war.
But from a young age, I attended Remembrance Day services with Dad and my mum Marie.
‘If only he knew how proud I was.’
I was the eldest of six children, with brothers Andrew, Russell, Alex and Matthew, and sister Louise. We all learned the history of the war at school.
The more I learned, the more grateful I became for the sacrifices that Dad and other servicemen and women had made for our country, including those who sadly never made it back home.
As I got older, it pained me to find out that there were thousands of soldiers from the First World War who were buried without an official headstone.
This was often due to the Great Depression, meaning people just couldn’t afford it.
In Hobart in 1974, I found love with Helen, then 24. We married a few years later. We went on to have two daughters, Kirsty in 1978 and Amanda in 1981, after we’d moved to Adelaide, SA.
When Dad died from a heart attack at just 63 in 1983, it crushed me to think he and I barely spoke of his war stories.
If only he knew how proud I was, I thought.
Time passed, and when I flew back to Hobart to visit my old friend Harry in 2016, he mentioned he was a foundation member of a charity called the Headstone Project, which was founded in Tasmania.
The aim of their organisation was to find war veterans’ unmarked graves and reunite descendants with their relatives’ place of rest.
When Harry asked if I’d be interested in becoming the president of Headstone Project SA, I jumped at the chance.
Having retired from my career in radio communications, I thought it was a wonderful opportunity to help honour our lost war heroes.
Back in Adelaide, I got to work building a team of locally based volunteers with an array of skills, including researchers and IT specialists.
At the time, it was estimated there were more than 2600 veterans in unmarked graves across 900 cemeteries in the state.
So one of our researchers went out to every local government area in SA to find where the cemeteries are and who runs them, and then compiled a list of names to investigate.
Once we had a name, we’d photograph the grave ready to investigate.
Most soldiers who served in the First World War were born between 1870 and 1900, so once we confirmed their age, we’d look through places like the National Archives, the War Memorial and other institutions to see whether or not there was any recorded military history.
Next, we had to identify who held the burial rights to the grave. Then we did a genealogical search to find a living descendant who could grant permission for a monument to be erected on the veteran’s grave.
Our first successful dedication was on Remembrance Day in 2017 at Port Pirie, for Archibald John Kenneth McVicar, who’d died in 1941.
Watching as his family paid tribute to their relative was such an emotional moment.
‘This gave me an experience I could never imagine,’ his granddaughter Geraldine said, thanking me.
I couldn’t imagine not having a place to remember Dad, or my mum, who passed away in 2019. It spurred us all on to keep going.
In July 2020, we tracked down a woman named Netta through genealogy, as she was one of the descendants of a serviceman named John Matz, who was buried in an unmarked grave at Willaston.
Netta had no idea her great-great-uncle John had fought in World War I.
We held the dedication for him that December. And we gave Netta replica medals, as the whereabouts of her uncle’s original medals was unknown.
Afterwards, Netta was so intrigued by grave hunting that she came on board in 2021 as a researcher.
‘Jack did a salute for his late dad.’
And this year, we reunited a man named Jack Hanna, 94, with his veteran father’s grave at Mount Barker cemetery.
At the dedication, Jack did a salute for his late dad.
His father was Private Richard Norman Hanna, who had died when Jack was just 17.
Jack brought three generations of family along to the moving dedication.
Every one of these men has an extraordinary story and that’s one of the many things that drives my passion.
Tragically in 2022, my beloved daughter Kirsty passed away when she was just 43. Our hearts were completely shattered, but I knew my parents would be looking out for her.
She’s buried in a small private memorial park, and her plaque reads Gone, but not forgotten.
We’ve now helped over 100 graves receive an official headstone, and we’re not slowing down anytime soon.
I also work alongside Forgotten Diggers, which is based in NSW. And I’d like to think that my grave hunting will be my lasting legacy.
Honouring these brave chaps is not just important, it’s the right thing to do.
Netta Blatchford, 72
Before Headstone Project, I didn’t actually remember Uncle John. But I have vivid memories as a child of my great-great-grandfather – John’s brother – and I was stoked to be involved and hear about what the project did for soldiers.
My husband Bob, 76, is a Vietnam Vet, so I’ve been involved in military life for a long time.
After the dedication, I spoke a lot with John Brownlie and Ian Hopley, the investigation team leader, and fell in love with what they do. Since joining Headstone Project SA, I’ve found it a rewarding hobby to hunt down graves. Our saying is ‘They served. They deserve to be remembered.’
