My cousin Bo.  A big man with a big heart.  I remember him as kind, generous and a gentleman. 

We grew up on the East Coast, he at Te Puia and me at Ruatorea.  I didn’t have much to do with him as a small child because my parents left Ruatorea for Waiomio, Northland in 1961.  He would have been just 11 and me 8.  Our families met from time to time, then, as a young man, he joined the Army.  Farming was all I knew, certainly not war or anything military.  I didn’t see Bo again till the early 1990s at Paremoremo Prison, Albany where he worked as a guard.  Not many would have argued with this gentle giant, immaculate in his uniform.  He suffered back problems, after prolonged exposure to Agent Orange poison while on duty in Vietnam in the 70s.  I was sad when he told me.  Bo became an invalid at an early age and lived out his years at Waipiro and Gisborne.  He told me he was going home. 

Loved by his whanau, his loyalty was unmatched for his sisters, brother and beloved niece Jeanna whom he raised as his own.

He had a hobby and that was to phone people he knew.  Everybody received a call, including me.  At his tangi, the tune “Call on Me” by Englebert Humperdinck was played.  How fitting - connecting with others was important to Bo.  I wiped away the tears at the memory.  

Brilliant blue cloudless skies, calm sea, freshly mowed lawns, Iritekura and Bo’s comrades, returned servicemen, headed by their Brigadier General. Resplendent in suits bedecked with medals, the Last Post and Revellie played to the salute of those warriors still standing, stories told of adventure together on the fields of war; some too grim to tell, others full of mirth and memory of the soldier who returned home.