The 80's started off pretty good. Vietnam was over, it was now a decade away. Trish was pregnant with our son and in May 1980, Robert Anthony was born. I was so happy and proud of my new son. But before his first birthday our marriage had disintegrated and I was living in a flat in Queanbeyan by myself.

This was the darkest depression ... my thoughts were filled with suicide, visions of disappearing up into the mountains and dying in a final shoot out with the police. I wrote terrible letters to my family, letters filled with fears and emotion, letters stained with my tears as I wrote them. I struggled through work, spent my nights on booze and women. I was seeing 6 or 7 women at any one time and sometimes 2 or 3 together. It was a nightmare and I was caught in the middle of it.

Gradually my life straightened out and I tried to settle down with Sharon ... but I was too far gone. I was probably never faithfull for more than a couple of months at a time ... but I got off the booze. In 1983 Saron had our son Michael Robert ... she was that unsure of our relationship that she registered Michael under her maiden name (it wasn't until he started school that we changed his surname). Our relationship had been under too much strain from my excesses and basically fell apart after Michael was born. We tried hard and in 1988 Yvonne Elizabeth was born. My kids remain the joy of my life, although I hardly see them ... and I miss them dearly. Sharon and I tried to get a new start by buying our own house and it was a happier time for us, although still not a full marriage.

Vietnam was with me daily ... it never left me ... but I kept it to myself ... ANZAC days got worse as each year passed.