Robert Lyons
~ On the Canvas Of Service, 2021
I can’t get my mind around the fact that there are people willing to kill…
June 20, 2021. The very first veteran I met for Of Service.
I walked into his home not knowing what this work would become—just carrying the weight of starting. I still remember the day. I had no idea what to expect. But Bob—warm, direct, unfiltered—set the tone before I even picked up the camera.
Bob took me through his stories like someone who had told them before, but still found joy in the telling. There was one about Arnhem Land, a stampede, and a palm tree that I’ll never forget. “Somebody yelled out, ‘There is a stampede of water buffaloes run for your bloody lives,’” he told me. And just like that, he was up a tree in his underwear. “Me sitting up there in my jocks probably wasn’t the greatest sight in the world,” he laughed. His eyes gave it away—this one still made him smile.
Content Advisory:
The following story contains personal reflections from an Australian veteran that may include themes of trauma, war-related experiences, mental health struggles, and suicide. These narratives are shared with deep respect and the intent to honour service, foster understanding, and offer hope to those facing similar challenges.
If you are feeling distressed or need support, we encourage you to reach out. Help is available.
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Lifeline Australia: 13 11 14 (24/7 crisis support)
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Open Arms – Veterans & Families Counselling: 1800 011 046 (24/7 support for veterans and their families)
Please proceed with care and compassion.
Corporal (CPL) Ret’d
Australian Army
But not everything was light. He talked about his time in Signals with an edge of seriousness that never left his voice. There was no romanticising the job. It was clear—mistakes had consequences. Real ones. And he wasn’t sharing that to make a point. Just to be honest.
In 1974, he lost almost everything in the Brisbane floods. The years that followed, he called “four years of purgatory.” It wasn’t just a turn of phrase. It was the way he said it. Like a weight that hadn’t lifted, even now.
What struck me most wasn’t just what he remembered. It was how carefully he held it. His collection of wartime pieces—especially from the second world war—was preserved with such respect. Not as celebration, but as memory. And he made sure I knew—this was history, not something to honour in the wrong way.
That day, he gave me his story without hesitation.
And I’ve never forgotten it.
© All rights reserved. Based on extracts from: Jenani Therone, Of Service, Australia: Harvest Publishing by House of JT, 2024, pages 535 – 539.
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The content featured here is extracted from Of Service, the original fine-art publication by Jenani Therone. It is reproduced with permission from both the author and the publisher. All rights are reserved. No part of this content may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means without explicit permission.
