There, he joined the Sydney University Regiment. Like many of his friends, he was concerned about Australia’s vulnerability. “There was likely to be a war,” he said, “and we thought we’d better have some training.” He was commissioned in 1939, and he transferred to the AIF in 1940. In the following year he was in command of B Troop, 18th Anti-Tank Battery, in Sparrow Force bound for Timor.
The 1400 men of Sparrow Force, only one of whom (Lieutenant-Colonel Bill Leggatt) had any combat experience, fought bravely but hopelessly against the more than 20,000 Japanese who “were dropped on us” in February 1942. Forced eventually to surrender, Carrick and most of his colleagues were to spend the next three years as prisoners of war.
Over these years, John Carrick spent time in prisons in Timor, Java and Changi, as a slave near Hellfire Pass on the Burma-Thai railway, and finally in command of some 100 young Australians at a work-camp at Pasir Panjang in Singapore.
The stories of the horror experienced by the prisoners of the Japanese have been well told, but one man’s account of how the prisoners at Pasir Panjang learned that the war had ended is a meaningful portrait of their young commander.
John Carrick returned earlier than usual from his monthly visit to the hospital at Kranji. He quietly explained to us that “for years scientists have been trying to split the atom and they have at last succeeded. The Americans have made a bomb which they have dropped on Japan and the show is just about over.” But then he added: “Don’t show any excitement. We are not out of the woods yet.”
In time they were freed, and Carrick's advice to his men was that they must leave the horrors of war behind them, return to their families and enjoy a good life unembittered by anger and hatred.
Personally, he looked back on the war as “an enduring learning experience”. He left the war convinced that the fault for the crimes of the war rested not with individual people but with “totalitarian forces, which must never again be allowed to grow strong".
Back in Australia, he accepted a position as research officer for the newly-formed Liberal Party and rose quickly to become the NSW General Secretary. He attributed his success in this role to individuals like Bill Spooner, Ralph Honner, Fred Osborne, Bob Cotton and others who, he said, “built a wall around me and let me get on with the job".
He soon came to be regarded as second only to Robert Menzies as the most influential factor in the success of the young party. The two men worked closely together, with Carrick sharing Menzies’ view of their respective roles:
"My role as Prime Minister is to be distracted by day-to-day events and crises. Your role is to stay focused on the future and keep the party true to its principles of organisation and philosophy."
In his quiet way, Carrick redefined politics for his time, but he found little to admire in later developments where costly advertising splurges and public relations stunts seemed to be replacing real political campaigning and where focus groups and spin doctors were undermining political judgment and the art of persuasion.
Principles, persuasion and the peaceful competition of ideas were vital to John Carrick’s conception of democracy. There were no shortcuts in his politics and there was no place in his philosophy for ideological baggage or the destructive mischief of factions.
After 25 years with the Party organisation and 16 years in the Senate, where he held several key positions (including government leader, minister for education, minister for national development and energy, and vice-president of the executive council), John retired from active politics in 1987.
He returned to politics only occasionally when a friend needed help. He remained the quiet voice of Australian politics, with a career book-ended by his acknowledged influence on our two most long-serving and respected prime ministers, Robert Menzies and John Howard.
The many honours received by John Carrick (including KCMG, Companion of the Order of Australia, and a host of honorary doctorates) recognised the extraordinary contribution he made to education. He had a compelling belief that, almost from the moment of conception, “the parent is the primary teacher” and that “the role of the school is to help parents to educate their children". He knew also that Australia’s future depended upon the quality of its educational processes and institutions at all levels.
It was always inspiring to watch a great old man in his late nineties argue with passion for more to be done for the education of families and for children in early childhood. With all his achievements, this was the area in which he hoped to be remembered.
John Carrick is survived by his three daughters, Diane, Jane and Fiona, his grandchildren and a wide extended family. He was deeply proud of them all.
By Dr Graeme Starr
Sir John Carrick 1918-2018
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