Fred celebrates 105 years of life shaped by opportunity
With 105 years of life experience, Resthaven Onkaparinga Community Services client, Mr Frederick (Fred) Walker, has a simple philosophy: some of the best moments start with a simple conversation.
‘Things happen when you meet people, and you get talking,’ Fred says with a smile.
Turning 105 on 1 May 2026, Fred has embraced opportunities that have come along in his life, and with hard work and an adventurous spirit, he has reaped the rewards.
‘I might have been richer if I stayed in one place,’ Fred says. ‘But I am rich in other ways. We did what we wanted to do – and that’s what matters.’
Early life
Fred was born in Stirling West in the Adelaide Hills during the depression years. He was the eldest of seven children – three boys and four girls.
‘There was very little money around for anyone,’ Fred says. ‘My father worked all the time. He worked in a big dairy.’
The family moved around to find work, later settling in Kilkenny.
‘I became a bit of a scrounger,’ Fred says. ‘I would collect bottles wherever I could find them and cash them in for a penny each. Later, I also started collecting bits of cloth and bone, and anything I could make money from. I sold it to the ‘Rag and Bone’ man but didn’t get a very good price. After that, I learnt to take it directly to the depot for more money.’
Though times were hard, Fred fondly remembers those years.
‘I thoroughly enjoyed my childhood,’ Fred says. ‘It was quite wonderful.’
At home, his dad had decided to take on a few cows, and Fred and his brother started working in the small dairy, separating the cream from the milk for sale, as well as keeping the area clean.
‘It was pretty hard work for two little kids, turning the handle up high until the bell on the separator rang to let us know the cream was ready,’ Fred says. ‘We were also in charge of delivering the milk – around 10 gallons each day.’
Fred’s childhood changed dramatically at 13, when the family moved to The Range, near Kuitpo, swapping cows for fowls.
‘I wasn’t really happy with the move because I enjoyed the work I was doing on the dairy,’ Fred says. ‘But, I got on with it. I always thought I would be a farmer.’
When World War II began, Fred’s path changed again, and he signed up for the army.
War years
Fred served for five years in the Australian Army, training initially as a machine gunner.
‘My father had been deployed to the Middle East, and I was really hoping to join him there,’
Fred says. ‘I underwent all the training to become part of the 23rd Machine Gun Battalion, but by the time the training ended, the military had decided the unit was obsolete. The battalion was disbanded, and we were told to find another role. They were looking for volunteers for a new armoured unit, and thinking that riding was better than marching, I put my hand up.’
In 1942, Fred was on his way to Sydney in preparation for deployment overseas.
Their departure, however, took an unexpected turn. Partway along the route, the train repeatedly stopped, then eventually reversed direction. Unbeknownst to the men at the time, Japan had entered the war, and Australian troops who had been destined to go overseas were suddenly required closer to home.
Instead of boarding ships, the train was diverted toward Brisbane and eventually shunted onto a remote siding, where more than a thousand soldiers were left waiting for days with almost no supplies. With little food or water beyond what they carried, many climbed off the train and walked across nearby fields in search of a town, some heading straight for the pub. Fred sought out a bakery for something to eat.
Eventually, the men were moved again, taken back for reorganisation, and issued mismatched khaki uniforms from whatever supplies were available. They were then sent to Singleton to resume training on different tanks. This constant reshuffling reflected the rapid pace of change during the war, with units disbanded and reformed as the army struggled to keep up with shifting demands.
Fred was later sent to New Guinea, and an encounter with some American pilots almost led to Fred taking part in a bombing raid.
‘We got to talking because the B25 bombers had the same machine gun in the nose that we had in the tanks,’ Fred says. ‘They’re pretty vicious on the recoil, and the pilot said to us, “We’re going on a raid in the morning, you want to come with us?” We thought yes! What an adventure! The pilot told us to hide out on the airstrip, and if it was possible, he would lower the flap at the back of the plane, and we would be able to climb onboard. So, we waited there in the grass, watching for this flap, and when his plane came along, we kept waiting, but he didn’t open the flap. I think he had another think about it and decided it wasn’t a good idea – he probably would have been court-martialled if anyone had seen us, so it was probably a good thing. But I did want to go on a bomb raid.’
With peace declared, Fred returned home.
‘It was no holiday,’ Fred recalls with understatement.
Fred and Laural
Fred met Laural, his wife-to-be, when they were both around 15 years old. They knew each other through the local church and other community activities.
Laural was also from a farming family and even managed a diary for another family in a nearby district during the war years.
The couple were married in 1946 and moved onto land also at The Range, that Fred had purchased and cleared by hand.
‘I bought a block that had a lot of scrub on it,’ Fred says. ‘With an axe and a saw, I cleared most of it, and we made a lovely farm there.’
The couple had two children born in 1948 and 1951 and built a successful dairy farm with around 50 cows.
Fred and Laural worked the land for around 30 years, but all the while, they had bigger plans. They wanted to travel, and together they planned their next move.
On the road
Selling the farm in the early 1970s, Fred and Laural moved to Port Noarlunga. With fewer responsibilities at home, they were getting ready to hit the road.
‘I missed the open space,’ Fred says. ‘So, we looked for work that would take us out of the city.’
Fred and Laural travelled to rural New South Wales, where they managed a hotel at Jugiong.
‘We were very upfront about our desire to travel,’ Fred says. ‘We told them we would work there for only two years.’
The couple had expected to then manage other small motels along their journey, but it was a time when travel to the area was slowing down, and everywhere they looked, hotel owners were taking over from their managers so they could afford to stay open. Instead, they found other work, including carpentry for Fred, meeting some colourful characters along the way.
‘We did different things and got invited to do other work, but we had been working towards travelling for so long that we really didn’t want to be put off about it,’ Fred says.
Over time, Fred and Laural did more than 50,000 kilometres with their caravan, exploring remote rivers, national parks and outback communities.
One memorable stay saw them camp on the Walsh River in Queensland, where they spent weeks swimming, fishing and enjoying the tropical environment. One particular swim across a lagoon – with its beautiful scenery and stunning outlook – could have ended in disaster when the couple later discovered a large crocodile had been seen nearby!
Fred and Laural returned home, and Fred took on some work at the local council so they could go travelling again.
Adventures overseas
Fred and Laural’s curiosity didn’t stop at Australia’s borders.
In their seventies, the couple backpacked through Indonesia and Malaysia for five months, staying in small guesthouses and living among local communities.
‘We didn’t go to big hotels,’ Fred says. ‘We lived with the people and got to know them.’
They also travelled to New Zealand, the Torres Strait Islands, and spent many years camping and snorkelling around Cairns and Port Douglas.
Alongside travel, the couple enjoyed creative hobbies.
Laural took up wood carving, crafting decorative clocks and sculptures. Sadly, Laural passed away in 2015. Fred was similarly taken with free-form wood sculpture — shaping naturally interesting pieces of timber found on their travels. One such piece sits on his living room coffee table.
‘It’s just seeing a shape in the wood and bringing it out,’ Fred says, explaining the process of cleaning up the piece of timber and preserving it.
It’s another example of Fred’s ability to see possibilities in whatever comes his way.
Happy 105th birthday, Fred! Congratulations on all your achievements – Resthaven is proud to support you to live independently in your own home.