‘Flashing blades’ still sharp
DECADES of backbreaking work cutting cane by hand has taken a cruel toll on the hunched body of Ingham octogenarian Emilio Beltramelli, a member of the last surviving gang of four “flashing blades”.
The Townsville Bulletin sat down with Mr Beltramelli, 89, at the Ingham home of Pino Giandomenico, the son of fellow gang member Nicola Giandomenico, 91, while Gennaro Marinelli, 83, and Angelo Bartolini, 94, dialled in via smartphones.
The technology would have been inconceivable when the quartet arrived in the Herbert River as Italian immigrants in the 1950s.
Mr Giandomenico spoke on behalf of his ailing father, who was not able to join the interview for health reasons, and translated or clarified for Mr Beltramelli.
“This is the last gang, the last full gang still alive, my father was the ganger, he was in charge, and the four of them formed the gang,” he said of the quartet, who all still lived independently in their own homes throughout North Queensland and remained firm friends.
“They’ve all got good family to support them, that’s the main thing and it just goes to show that hard work doesn’t kill anybody because they really worked hard.”
The former Hinchinbrook mayor said the last of the “flashing blades”, like other immigrants at the time, had been invited to Australia from economically depressed, post-world War II Europe specifically to cut sugar cane after blackbirding was finally banned.
Mr Beltramelli, who recently moved to Townsville, said the four men slaved from well before dawn until well after dusk in witheringly hot conditions, cutting whole stalks of cane into bundles and carrying them over their shoulders to tram trolleys, which were then pushed to the main line where they were collected by steam engines.
He said the cane was often so hot that it burned his shoulders as he carried it.
Asked if he had a day off, Mr Beltramelli laughed, shaking his head, saying he never stopped working during the crush season, only coming home for dinner and to catch a few hours of sleep before heading back out to the fields.
Sometimes, he did not even get any sleep.
At the end of each six-month crush, the men would travel in search of seasonal work such as picking fruit in Mildura, Victoria. Mr Beltramelli’s daughter Karla Hewitt said she hardly saw her father growing up.
“I remember dad leaving before we woke up to go to school, we’d come home from school, we wouldn’t see him until the weekend, if that, if we wanted to see him we’d have to go down to the paddock, we never saw him … we didn’t know what we had a dad, we only saw mum,” she said.
“Now they’re cutting the cane green, they’ve got the harvesters, it is so easy nowadays compared with what they went through.”
Ricky Bartolini, son of Forrest Beach man Angelo, said his father was proud of the fact he was a member of blades.
“They’re proud of the hardworking backgrounds, it’s something that not a lot of people are able to do.”
Mr Bartolini said his father’s health had deteriorated since the passing of his wife, Ida, and today marked what would have been the couple’s 70th anniversary.
“He’s a bit upset.”
Mr Marinelli, the baby of the bunch from Mareeba, said he had lived a wonderful life filled with “lovely memories”.
“I wish later in the year or the beginning of next year that we are going to be together, all of the four of the gang of four flashing us, to celebrate.” Mr Bartolini said they did not make people like his father or friends anymore.
“They came from a country that was war-torn and bent their backs and they didn’t whinge about anything. They just got stuck into it and made a life for not only myself and my sister … all through hard work; they’re a breed of their own.”
Between them, the men have left a legacy of 14 Australian children, 29 grandchildren and another 15 great grandchildren with yet another on the way.
“We are enjoying the fruits of our parents’ labour,” Mr Giandomenico said.