THEIR homes were little more than tin sheds where running water and electricity were still a distant dream but snakes and rabbit plagues were a daily reality.

Life could be harsh on the soldier settlement blocks out Macarthur way, but for the likes of Reg Joseph and Jim Britnell, it was heaven-sent.

Like the other 130 or so men who came with their young brides and children to this patch of the Western District, Reg and Jim were returned World War II soldiers.

Some, like them, had suffered deprivation as prisoners of war under the Japanese, barely surviving the hellish Burma Railway forced labour camps but for the care of their comrade and medic Weary Dunlop.

They came in search of a fresh start, a chance for the mental and physical scars of war to heal and fade.

In this rocky triangle of volcanic land bordered by the towns of Hawkesdale, Macarthur and Penshurst, they found it.

As historian and author James Affleck writes in his latest book, From Tents & Tin Huts to Timber Houses & Tiger Snakes, what they also found was a sense of community that helped reinvigorate their little towns.

"The Soldier Settlement Scheme of the late 1940s and 1950s dramatically reshaped large areas of the Shire of Minhamite," Affleck notes.

"Most of the surviving large estates were broken up and the shire received a welcome boost in population and productivity surrounding the three main centres - Hawkesdale, Macarthur and Penshurst."

Where the First World War Soldier Settlement Scheme had been generally judged a failure, a new set of guidelines ensured greater success for the Second World War men.

Blocks had to be of viable size, the settlers were required to prove their experience on the land and the Soldier Settlement Commission provided housing, water, fencing and initial pasture development as well as advice and guidance.

With hard work and perseverance, returned men like Jim and Reg were eventually able to make a comfortable living from their mostly mixed farming enterprises starting with dairying and often branching into sheep or beef.

It was the winter of 1952 when former Morotai signalman Mick Kent brought his young wife Stephanie and their baby Marie to their 540-acre allotment they named Mauraleigh on the Glengleeson East estate near Macarthur.

They stayed for 36 years, but as Mrs Kent recalls, it was a grim introduction to life on the land.

"To say that I was appalled at what I saw would be an understatement," says Mrs Kent, now 92.

"There I was sitting on a dressing table, on a trailer behind a tractor, nursing our six-month-old baby, bouncing my way over rough paddocks. All I could see were sheets of water, with a little land here and there and at intervals, were little corrugated iron garages.

"One of these was to be our home for the next two-and-a-half years."

The procedure was for the men to go ahead and build the tin sheds, or 'garages' before the wives and children arrived. There they lived for at least two years before moving to the relative luxury of a proper home.

The Kents were among 10 families selected to farm Glengleeson East, Kangertong, Moyne Falls, Gerrigerrup, Stonefield, Morpor, Weerangourt, Young's, Deerhurst, Alanvale, Eerilya, East Elwood and the single units made up the other estates.

Marie Bonne, the six-month-old baby bouncing along in the trailer with her mother, has fond memories of growing up on Mauraleigh with her four siblings.

"It was a kids' world. There weren't many old people because Macarthur was flooded with soldier settlers and their families.

"Because there were so many kids, there was lots of company and lots of opportunities for playing sport," she recalls.

"Our neighbours became like our cousins. It was a great community environment."

Wives would traipse across paddocks with prams and kids in tow to neighbours' homes for birthday parties and social gatherings, always alert for lurking tiger snakes and copperheads.

There were community bonfire nights, old-fashioned Saturday night dances, concerts and regular fund-raising events when money was needed for facilities, be it a school, a pool, tennis courts or a hospital.

"Because the fellas and some of the women had been to war, they wanted the world to be a better place for their children. They did some amazing fund-raisers," says Mrs Bonne.

Paul Miles too, was just a few months old when he arrived with his parents Eric and Rita to set up home on Kangertong estate just out of Hawkesdale.

Among his earliest recollections remains the sound of the windmills clanking out what he imagined were the syllables of the word "Kan-ger-tong, Kan-ger-ong", in dreary repetition.

The Miles family called their 600-acre property "Warrenlea", a reference to the countless rabbit warrens on the land. Snakes were also just as prolific, but not all of the local wildlife was unwelcome.

Rita Miles once wrote of the flock of 21 dancing brolgas that brought joy to the "tiresome" drought of 1968, the nesting plovers and "glorious late spring flowers".

From Tents & Tin Huts to Timber Houses & Tiger Snakes is the fourth of James Affleck's soldier settlement histories. As with his earlier books on Woolsthorpe, Caramut and Tarrone, his motivation is to help preserve this chapter of post-war history.

Just 12 survivors remain of the original 130 families who followed their dreams to a new life on the Hawkesdale-Macarthur-Penshurst settlement.

"Of the guys who settled these places, their kids probably know a bit about it, but most of their grandchildren wouldn't have a clue. So it's important for that reason alone," says Affleck.

Reg Joseph and Jim Britnell might be long gone but for Glenn Britnell and Marilyn Flack, their fathers' stories of lifelong friendship are very much alive.

The pair shared some of the best and the worst times of their lives.

They enlisted together in the army as carefree 22-year-olds, were taken prisoner by the Japanese after the fall of Singapore and survived three brutal years in captivity while toiling on the infamous Burma Railway.

Stricken with beri, Jim cheated death under the care of the camp's medical officer and fellow POW, Weary Dunlop.

"Weary thought he was a gonner," says son Glenn Britnell.

Both Jim and Reg remained close to Weary and their families throughout their lives. Marilyn Flack treasures the letters the decorated medic wrote to her father Reg in later life. A small piece of the Burma Railway on display in her bookcase is also a poignant reminder of her father's service.

Their war was over. Jim married Norma Croft, Reg wed Dorothy Weeks and four children each followed, but the bond between Reg and Jim only strengthened.

"They were inseparable," recalls Glenn.

The best mates took up settler blocks within cooee of each other on Glengleeson estate, raised their families side-by-side and even stayed neighbours in retirement after moving to Nangiloc. They are both buried at Elmhurst cemetery.

Glenn Britnell is still learning about his father's war service and is in awe of the lengths he went to to survive.

"I don't take any of that for granted, what they did for us. As long as we remember what these men had to endure," he says.

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