Large families were the norm, rather than the exception up to the time of the World wars. perhaps the senseless destruction of those young lives sickened humanity- perhaps the increased taxes and cost of living resulting from the wars caused a necessary reduction in family size. Perhaps the independence won by women as they carried on their daily lives without their men, made mothers say, "Enough" The Warren family farmed the fertile Fyans Creek flats in the Grampian Mountains of Western Victoria. Some say Halls Gap was so named because the bushranger Hall holed up there in the early days. The rugged slopes and hidden gullies could have hidden a whole gang of bushrangers, but little remained undiscovered to a wandering family of 12 children growing up with their flocks and herds grazing the ranges. A tired rider could nod off, safe in the knowledge a trusty stockhorse would plod steadily homeward into the night. Responsibility quickly made youngsters capable and reliable. Then Australia went to war. There were three older brothers, then the girls, then young Frank. All the men went, including Frank. So the girls had to run the farm alone. Their mother had her hands full with the youngsters, still attending school, a daily walk over the mountain to Pomonal and return. But the loss of the men's casual wages from timber cutting and labouring jobs, meant great hardship is some method of earning a cash income had to be devised. Paying guests! That was it. So Myrtle Bank Guest House was born. City folk flocked to the mountain resort. High stepping mountain horses met them at the Stawell raid-head, with the tall and beautiful Warren girls driving them in experienced fashion, their auburn hair sometimes falling from its pins to fly free, as the dray bowled along towards the hills. The would hitch up their skirts to saw and chop wood for the stoves and fires. They milked cows and delivered calves. They shore sheep and trimmed their feet. They mustered their cattle as the seasons rolled by, and the paying guests watched and participated, fascinated. With laughter and song, the girls would wash up in a tin dish, throw on their house clothes to wait on table, sing and play piano, violin, accordion, enjoying the talk of the city and that other world so far away from their mountain home. The simple country menu was a hit, and the homemade bread, butter, jams and preserves, fruit and vegetables sent guests staggering to their armchairs. Picnics, hikes, goodbyes and welcomes blurred as the years of the war dragged by. Bookings were made and remade as the new enterprise became established. Peace was declared. the men returned A whole new building rose with two floors, inviting verandahs and bathrooms. Myrtle Bank would remain a family business all its lifetime, until buried below the Bellfield Dam, by which time more than one the girls had joined their beloved Frank, lost on Flanders Field. Article in book or magazine describing life at Myrtlebank during war years Other article written from letter from soldier P Lillis to his sister 3rd article of woman from country enlisting in WAAF Submitted by Carol of Bannockburn, Submitted by D Langley Submitted by Meryl of South Frankstonaccommodation, myrtlebank, people, warren