Tribute to Glen “Wally”

Glen (nickname Wally), was employed as a carpenter, builder, and site foreman, and was in charge of the construction of the new station at Casey Base from 1985 to 1986. During that time, he led a substantial summer crew and an ongoing winter crew. While we were a hardworking bunch, Wally always led from the front, both on the job and during the more jovial moments.

He had a wild look about him, a mischievous glint in his eye, and was always in the thick of the action. Our crew did not always endear itself to everyone, but under Wally’s leadership we completed an enormous amount of work, far more than expected. We were a close-knit team, and Glen always had a way of smoothing over problems when we perhaps did not behave quite as expected.

Having trained in Melbourne and Hobart, Wally always backed his crew, even when they were struggling. We had a plant operator named Snowy, an old bushie who was not always up to the physical demands of the work. Wally looked after him and kept him under his wing. Whenever Snowy made a mistake, Wally would quote snowy’s favourite saying, “A man’s a mug,” which quickly became a catchphrase whenever someone messed up. Even though Snowy did not make the trip south, Wally did his best to help him through.

One of our major projects at Casey Base during the summer was the construction of the Domestic Shed, commonly known as the Red Shed. It required an extraordinary amount of concrete work, much of it mixed by hand through a batching plant. The job consumed nearly the entire summer. Wally seemed to be on that batching plant every day. I could only manage about three days at a stretch. It was hard, backbreaking work lifting bags of cement and feeding the batcher, but Wally worked all day, every day, often with cement crusted through his already wild hair and beard.

The Casey Clubhouse also saw its share of legendary nights, with Wally usually at the centre of the activities, strumming tunes and singing ballads. One particularly memorable evening ended with a fellow expeditioner losing his false teeth down the latrine, where the effluent flowed out onto the ice. Faced with a long year without teeth, Wally somehow managed to retrieve them from the mess. Needless to say, after the teeth were returned, we all agreed we would not be kissing him anytime soon.

Wally loved the environment and relished every opportunity to venture beyond the base. We shared many great trips together, and he was the most dependable friend you could hope to have by your side. No matter what happened, even if you made a mistake, Wally would have your back. Through the worst weather imaginable, he kept the construction team moving forward and ensured the work was completed. He was a friend to everyone, but he also made sure you knew when you needed to pull your head in.

As for the nickname “Wally,” I’m not sure who first gave it to him, but I always imagined it had something to do with the amount of hair covering his body. It seemed fitting for a man whose hair and beard were every bit as legendary as the stories told about him.

I could fill a thousand pages with memories that still make me laugh, and Wally would somehow feature in most of them. He was a good friend, a mentor, and someone I knew I could trust with my life. When things became difficult, he was the sort of person who would always find a way through and bring the rest of us with him.

Wally was one of those rare people who left a lasting impression on everyone fortunate enough to know him. He will be remembered for his leadership, loyalty, generosity, humour, and unwavering friendship.

Rest in peace, Wally. Our thoughts are with your family and the many friends whose lives were enriched by knowing you.

Shaughan McGovern