The Comforting Presence of a Wartime DJ

I can only see a sky of blue where dark clouds used to be.
(from “Today I Feel So Happy”)

These are probably the last words you’d associate with a battle that claimed the lives of more than 800 Australian soldiers. Yet the chirpy soprano of 1930s songbird Renate Müller formed part of a soundtrack that brought comfort to thousands of Allied troops in Tobruk between April and December 1941.

The curator of this pre-Spotify playlist was Salvation Army Chaplain Arthur McIlveen, affectionately nicknamed Padre Mac. Every DJ needs a stage name.

Padre Mac’s weapon of choice in the desert was a portable wind-up gramophone, supported by a small stack of 78s. Many had been shattered by shellfire, but the resourceful chaplain kept the music alive by repairing them with cloth tape or gluing the fragments onto another record. The gramophone and its surviving records continued their service in Papua New Guinea and are now on display at the Australian War Memorial.

Padre Mac’s ministry extended well beyond music. This Anzac Day, we reflect on three aspects of his story that capture the essence of chaplaincy and the spirit of Anzac.

The Ministry of Presence

When war is raging around you, few people think to drop the needle on an old record. Yet by being present and attuned to those around him, Padre Mac was able to discern what was needed and offer something no military playbook could prescribe.

This is what chaplains call a "ministry of presence." Just as Jesus intentionally placed himself in places of darkness and need, chaplains go and sit alongside the lonely, the frightened, the broken, and the dying. When he wasn't playing music, Padre Mac was known for braving enemy fire to visit soldiers in trenches and perimeter posts.¹

In doing so, he embodied the Anzac spirit of bravery. Like Jesus, he took on the nature of a servant and humbled himself for the sake of others.

Embracing Diversity

By being present across a variety of contexts, a chaplain's ministry extends far beyond a fixed congregation. Padre Mac's old wind-up gramophone served soldiers from Australia, Poland, India, and England. But the music didn't stop there.

The tunes crackling from that brass speaker were also played for German and Italian prisoners of war. While many Christians seek to love their enemies, few have the opportunity to live out those words quite so literally.

The Anzac spirit is often described as "an unquenchable thirst for justice, freedom and peace."² The musical olive branch Padre Mac extended across enemy lines captures this beautifully. Chaplains rub shoulders with friend and foe alike, carrying a unique opportunity to reflect Christ's love, forgiveness, and grace as they honour the image of God in every person they meet.

Healing

The presence and compassion of chaplains bring healing. The words most often used to describe Padre Mac are peace and comfort. Whether he was lifting the morale of the wounded, playing dance music for his enemies, or simply keeping company with frightened young soldiers, he was using his presence to bring wholeness.

It's not unlike the way he repaired those broken 78s. With limited materials and great care, he made something whole again.

If the Anzac spirit thirsts for peace, it can at times feel as though it is wandering through a desert. Chaplains take seriously Christ's call to be peacemakers, bringing healing to wounded souls and broken systems.

“Where dark clouds used to be”

In the darkness of war, where God may have seemed distant, Padre Mac mediated the comforting presence of Christ. In a fractured world, his battered 78s offered common ground between two warring sides.

His bravery, compassion, and thirst for peace capture the heart of the Anzac spirit.

As we pause to remember, may stories like Mac's stir us to bring comfort and wholeness wherever we find ourselves.

¹ Australian Dictionary of Biography — https://adb.anu.edu.au/biography/mcilveen-sir-arthur-william-10968

² Anzac Day Commemoration Committee — https://anzacday.org.au/the-spirit-of-anzac