The dismissal: where were you?

'It started out as another "not much happens here" Canberra Tuesday. I was 18 and in my first year at the then-Canberra College of Advanced Education. The morning radio news mentioned that there "might" be a major event on the steps of Parliament House with serious implications for the Whitlam government.  

My 70-something Grandma was staying with our family. She lived in Edithburgh, South Australia, another place where not much happens. "Grandma, there might be something happening at Parliament House today. Let's go?" Surprisingly, she flung down her crotchet needles and in minutes we were heading over Kings Avenue Bridge in my not-so-trusty $300 Holden. 

And while Gough Whitlam's "Well may we say, God save the Queen etc." will be the more remembered line of the day, my favourite was Bob Hawke cutting our beloved Norman Gunston off at the interview pass with, "It's a bit too serious for that." To which Norman replied absolutely deadpan: "Yes it is. I quite agree."' – Bruce W Stephens, Sydney 

'I was working for the Australian Bureau of Statistics in Canberra. The political climate in Canberra was very volatile, and federal public servants were facing the possibility of not being paid due to a failure of the Labor government of Gough Whitlam not having passed the necessary government supply bills. The thought of not getting paid for a few months was a real worry.  

On hearing on the local Canberra radio that a major announcement regarding the government was about to be made at Parliament House, I decided to swing by. I parked my car and made my way to the front steps. A large crowd had gathered on the steps consisting of locals, journalists and TV reporters – it was a frenzy of excitement. Five minutes after I had arrived on the steps, the Governor-General's secretary, David Smith, then appeared immediately adjacent to where I was standing at the front of the throng. He then announced that the Governor-General had sacked Prime Minister Whitlam and asked Malcolm Fraser to form a caretaker government. 

We got paid the next week.' – Michael Lewis

'I wasn't at Parliament House on the day of Whitlam's dismissal, however I was at school sitting in my year 11 politics exam and writing an essay. The topic was: How is the constitutional crisis going to be resolved? 

When we all walked out of the exam room, we discovered the answer on the front page of the afternoon newspapers! It was quite a memorable day. We wondered how our essays would now be assessed.' – Catherine Padey

'I worked for the Melbourne Herald as a newspaper delivery truck driver. On the day Gough Whitlam was dismissed, I had finished the last delivery of newspapers and returned to the Herald-Sun building in Flinders Street Melbourne, ready to knock off for the day. The place was in absolute chaos; bosses and journos running around not fully understanding what had just happened in Canberra.  

A decision was made to print a special late edition Herald and get it out to the Melbourne CBD and nearby suburban areas. I finished up taking a load of newspapers out through East Melbourne, Hawthorn, South Yarra. Traffic was a nightmare at the time, but I got paid overtime for the extra hours, so that was a bonus for me. Nobody really knew what was going to happen as a result of Kerr's decision.' – Robin Date

'In 1975, I was a serving officer in the Australian Army and was one of three junior officers on a panel for the position of the governor-general's next military aide-de-camp. I, along with my two colleagues, Bill Denny and Bob Aley, were told to report to Canberra on 11 November for a full day's assessment.  

We reported to Government House at midday on the 11th and were shown to our accommodation. Soon after, we met the current aides, one of whom had just returned from the War Memorial, where he and the Governor-General had attended the morning's Remembrance Day commemorations. We were told that the Governor-General would meet us just before lunch.    

At around 12.30 we were shown into an ante room, where the Governor-General, his wife and some other members of the household staff were having drinks before lunch. After a brief conversation with us, he excused himself, saying "I must compose myself before my meeting with the prime minister." About 20 minutes later he reappeared and addressed the group, saying "I have just dismissed the prime minister and appointed a new one." 

Needless to say, we were stunned. The constitutional crisis had been going on for weeks, but this turn of events was a huge surprise, and other than Gough Whitlam and Malcolm Fraser, we were the first to hear about it.  

We adjourned with the Governor-General, his wife and some staff to the dining room and over lunch there was some conversation about a suitable time to "notify the palace". Later, the Governor-General's principal private secretary, David Smith, left the table to call London. We three were sitting together, and the Governor-General spoke to us a few times, but inevitably, the conversation returned to the events of the morning. He was convinced that his actions would break the parliamentary deadlock, and that the crisis would be resolved by holding an immediate general election. His reasons have been covered extensively since, and from my recollection, there was nothing said at the table that differed from what he said publicly afterwards. However, at one point he looked to our end of the table and asked, "What do you three young captains think of this morning's events?" Without pausing, Bill Denny replied with words to the effect of, "It's been very entertaining so far Your Excellency; what do you have planned for us this afternoon?" Much laughter ensued.    

The three of us stayed for the rest of the day and overnight, the intention being to acquaint us with the aide's job and the workings of Government House. I'm not sure whether I had my interview with the Governor-General that afternoon, or the following morning. However, I was unsuccessful, and Bob Aley was appointed.' – Roderick Allan

'I was in year 12 at Narrabundah High at home studying for my HSC, when the news came across the radio that the Governor-General had sacked Gough Whitlam. I downed my pen and jumped on my little step-through motorbike and raced to Parliament House to see a crowd of people gathering, who like me, couldn't believe what they had heard and wanted to find out what was happening for themselves. The atmosphere was highly charged and as I arrived there were cameras filming us and of course, Gough, the Governor-General's secretary, the journos and other Labor pollies up on the steps under the portico.   

I couldn't really hear much but recognised when I needed to cheer or boo by the way the people in front of me were acting.' – Ms Amanda Evans

'On the 11th November 1975 an end of school year excursion was to the Canberra Playhouse to view the rather risqué David Williamson film The Removalists. Halfway through the film, the teachers stopped the film, raised the house lights, grabbed the public address system and declared to all, "Gough Whitlam's been sacked! We're off to Parliament House." A few of my other classmates followed to the steps of Parliament House and soon we were swamped by hundreds of protestors as public servants streamed out of the government buildings. Keen to get a better view I was able to scale a column to see Norman Gunston's arrival, deep concerned discussions with Labor luminaries such as Fred Daly, Kep Enderby, Bob Hawke et al. I do recall a bewildered-looking Doug Anthony wandering around aimlessly.  

"We want Gough" and "Shame Fraser Shame" was a constant chorus as we waited for Gough to appear.  

I was still on the column when first David Smith appeared, then Gough to deafening applause. I still get shivers when I hear and see replays of his speech especially the reference to "Kerr's cur" – I had to ask a more mature protestor what a "cur" was.' – David Mitchell

'I suppose he was very committed and clear in what he wanted to do and why he wanted to get rid of Whitlam. Even me, non-political me, had views on wanting to get rid of Whitlam... I thought it had to happen, and Malcolm could do it.

The last weekend before Kerr made his decision on the Monday, he was very wobbly. He just said, "Look, if Kerr doesn't make a decision on Monday, I've got nowhere else to go. The decision has to be made. The government has to be running by this week." 

I really didn't realise that he'd become prime minister.' – Tamie Fraser, Malcolm Fraser's wife