Derryn Hinch

Vale Derryn Hinch. Derryn once wrote that (I was) “Major Major Mary-Ann Martinek is as much a military hero to me as any bemedalled man in khaki from Vietnam or East Timor. Until now her voice has been as silenced as if she had been run over by a tank.” (Hinchwebradio Thursday, March 30, 2000). Those words, published in March 2000, came at a time when very few people were prepared to listen. He understood that the life of a whistleblower can be lonely. He recognised the personal cost of speaking out when institutions would rather remain silent. Our story, however, was never simple. Before our friendship ended, Derryn and I shared many conversations about veterans, my poetry and the need for a place where they could find practical help, advocacy and hope after service. Today, that vision has become reality. the Veterans Centre now exists, and we have assisted more than 250 veterans. I genuinely wish he could have seen what grew from those conversations. Sadly, our friendship came to an end after an incident that profoundly changed my trust in him. I left Melbourne, and the business we had built together came to an end. Years later, fate brought us together again. In late 2017, while I was working in Parliament House as an Electorate officer for a NSW Senator undertaking veterans’ research, I heard a familiar booming voice call across the café: “Major Major!” It was Derryn. We sat down, shared a coffee and talked for a while. Time had softened some of the sharp edges, but not erased the past. We each continued on our own journey, and after that chance meeting we went our separate ways once more. Looking back now, I choose to remember that moment for what it was: two people whose lives had become deeply intertwined, then profoundly divided, meeting again with the benefit of time and perspective. Our story was never simple, but it was real. Despite everything that followed, I have never forgotten that there was also a time when Derryn stood beside me publicly. When others dismissed my concerns, he listened. When many turned away, he gave me a voice. His obituary speaks of a man who spent decades pursuing stories that others wanted buried and who believed that “news is something somebody doesn’t want published.” Derryn Hinch Obituary | Keeper Memorials.pdf Like many lives lived in the public eye, his was complicated. So too was our relationship. It contained courage and conflict, support and disappointment, respect and ultimately separation. Rest in peace, Derryn. Time has a way of revealing that no person is defined by a single chapter. We both walked difficult paths. While we never found our way back to friendship, I choose to remember that, at one important moment in my life, he listened when few others would. For that, and for the veterans whose lives continue to be changed through a vision we once discussed, I remain thankful. Mary-Ann Martinek Major Major