Aust. Historical Medals

Lot 1009    SESSION 4 (4.30PM MONDAY 30TH AUGUST)    Aust. Historical Medals

Estimate $150
Bid at live.noble.com.au
SOLD $360

NEW SOUTH WALES GOVERNMENT AMBULANCE, silver with gold centrepiece 20 Years Long Service Medal, reverse inscribed, 'Coal Cliff/Ambulance/Class/1924/James Brownlee', with a ribbon and pin-back silver suspender bar for N.S.W. Govt. Ambulance Corps and this inscribed, 'Scarborough Class 1926/James Brownlee'. The ribbon damaged, medal and bar dark toned, otherwise good very fine.

It was reported in The Labor Daily, Sydney newspaper, Wednesday 3 February 1926, page 6 as follows.
'The Miners' Way - A Comrade's Work.
The pit-top at Coalcliff mine, smoky, dirty, and noisy, yesterday afternoon, was the scene of a little ceremony dear to the hearts of the miners working there. Nobody realises more than a man who is liable to the myriad accidents of a coal-pit, the value of the first-aid man - and the Coalcliff miners showed their appreciation of the 20 years' service of their "Zam-buk" man.

Twenty years ago James Brownlee went to Coalcliff, and started work as a blacksmith. At the same time the mine badly needed a first-aid man and Brownlee stepped into the breach. Armed with a fair knowledge of first-aid he soon proved himself invaluable to his comrades under the earth. The bond between life and death is very close, down under. It is only a little slip here or there, and a mangled human-being is writhing in agony. Thousands of feet away from doctors and hospitals, only one man can do anything- and in his twenty years Brownlee did it. They were not times for exuberant thanks- and men such as those do not go in for talking. But Brownlee's twenty years of work and sacrifice were remembered even more for that.

Working as a blacksmith at the same time, Brownlee receives the wages due for that. Not one penny for his far more invaluable services for humanity was paid by the management. Yesterday afternoon the Coalcllff miners said "Thanks" to Mr. Brownlee. A little group of men by the main shaft, a bar and hand-clasp, a murmured "Thanks" and it was finished - but it meant more to Brownlee than most other things could. The employers see no use for ambulance stations; no use for modern surgical instruments; no necessity to relieve pain and retard death. It Is left to men like Brownlee, with torn shirts, handkerchiefs, and sheets, pieces of wood and Iodine, to play the game of life and death. It is well for the miners that men like Brownlee exist.'