Mr ALBANESE (Grayndler—Prime Minister) (13:59): I move: That the House record its deep regret at the death, on 3 August 2024, of Thomas Page Pritchard, a former Australian serviceman, place on record its appreciation of his meritorious service, and tender its sympathy to his family in their bereavement. Yesterday, Tom Pritchard, Australia's final remaining Rat of Tobruk, was farewelled in a private family funeral. He may have been our last living link to one of the most extraordinary episodes in Australian military history, but he was a man of humility. As much as we Australians lay claim to him, he belonged first and last to family and friends. Born in country Victoria, Tom, like so many young people determined to serve, lied about his age in order to enlist. He ended up taking part in one of the military campaigns that most emphatically showed the great truth of the Australian character. Through its eight extraordinary months, the siege of Tobruk called on the tenacity of every Australian soldier who stood against the forces of Hitler and Mussolini. It called on their resourcefulness. It called on that deep instinct to respond to even a glimpse of hell with comradery and understated courage, with irony and humour. When enemy propaganda compared them to rats, they adopted the insult as a badge of enduring pride and honour. Even in the most desperate darkness, theirs was a light that never went out. And there, in the thick of it, was Tom Pritchard. By his own admission, he didn't know how to put on a bandaid when he started out, but he ended up saving lives as an ambulance attendant with the 2/5th Field Ambulance, freeing the wounded against all of the challenges they faced. The road beneath was often treacherous, and the sky above carried the threat of death, yet he pushed on through the siege and then again closer to home in Papua New Guinea and Borneo. When it was all done, he married his sweetheart, Gwen, and went to work for Victoria's State Electricity Commission and settled into the reward of family life. Yet, through the decades of peace, he and the other Rats never lost the extraordinary bond that had been forged under the fire of fascism, nor did Tom lose the quiet modesty that was such a characteristic of his generation. Even when he was the last Rat of Tobruk left carrying the torch, he wanted to make sure that its glow fell upon others, not on his own achievements and his own courage but to light up the legacy of those who never came home from the Libyan Desert, those whose lives were part of the cost of victory against tyranny. Fittingly, a public memorial for all the Rats of Tobruk will be held in Melbourne later this month. And we will remember Tom alongside all the thousands of Australians who gave the world hope when it was so desperately needed. Now this self-effacing hero's long and rich life is over—the man who once exaggerated his age to go to war so very nearly made it to his 103rd birthday. Our hearts go out to all who loved him and were loved by him. We join in pride and gratitude for all Tom was and all that Tom did. He was a great Australian, a man of humility, selflessness and larrikin humour. May he rest in peace. Lest we forget.