'Go ahead Russell, go ahead': WWII veteran's death leaves legacy for 'wonderful world'

The Advertiser

19-07-2025

After living an incredible 100 years, WWII veteran Russell "Rusty" Leslie Fuller has died and will finally reunite with his late wife, Jenny.
On Thursday, July 3, 2025, Russell, who had lived Albion Park Rail for about 25 years, died peacefully in Temora, where he had moved to be closer to his daughter Michelle.
Many in will remember Anzac Day 2020, when during the height of COVID, Rusty's neighbours in Albion Park Rail decided to put on a special service for their oldest serving resident, who was 95 at the time.
As the sun rose over Kimbeth Crescent, the WWII veteran and his neighbours stood on driveways and listened to the Last Post.
Rhonda Reeves, who was Russell's neighbour from across the road for more than two decades, described her friend as a very special man.
"I thought it would be lovely for Russell to feel special on Anzac Day, as he should, and we got the neighbourhood together and it turned out to be a very special day," she said.
"He was just so excited about it. He shared a lot of tears. He was just so proud walking around with younger children, while we all clapped him.
"He was wise, kind, giving, quiet-talking, never bragged or raised his voice. He was just someone you could sit and talk to. He was so calming. I don't think there's anyone else like him anymore."
Born to parents Richard and Grace Elizabeth in Goulburn on February 1, 1925, Russell "Rusty" Fuller was the second eldest of eight children.
Russell spent the first eight years of his life in Goulburn before he and his family moved to a farm in Forster.
The 500-acre farm "Coomba" was located in Shallow Bay, had 30 dairy cows, and provided milk to the Tuncurry Butter Factory.
As a child, Russell used the lakes and rivers that passed along the farm as highways to town - his mode of transport a small white wooden punt with two oars and a lot of elbow grease.
Russell was required to board a boat to get to school in Tuncurry, skippered by a German man named Poppy Norman.
The skipper must have thought his luck had dwindled, as each day, he would set crab and lobster pots along the coast and would rarely secure a catch.
But Russell and his best friend, Ronnie Foster, always seemed to have the catch of the day on their dinner tables.
"We were terrible. It was the wrong thing to do, but we got away with it," Russell said with a laugh when I spoke to him in 2020.
Before joining the army, Russell lived with his sister at Bulahdelah, where he worked in a timber mill.
"I got a call from the army to go and have a medical exam," Russell said.
"I was called up in June 1943. I had to get my Dad's permission to join the AIF. He said, 'Go ahead, Russell, go ahead'."
When speaking about his father, Richard, who served in the Australian Army during World War I, Russell always had a sparkle in his eyes and a smile on his face.
He said if it weren't for a Salvation Army lady, his father would have died in the trenches of the battle-torn landscape during the Battle of Menin Road.
Wounded in action when a bullet tore a deep incision in his right leg, two inches deep and three inches wide, Richard tried to hide his injury and dampen the pain with mud.
It hadn't worked, and he collapsed. His body was placed among the Canadian dead.
"This young little Salvation Army lady walked past, and Dad waved his hand, and she saw it and pulled him out," Russell said.
Like his father before him, Russell was proud of his service.
During World War II, he was part of the three-inch mortar patrol within the 2/16th battalion.
When he trained, he remembered being given metal helmets for protection.
Yet, Russell said those helmets often lay in the dirt, replaced by comfortable slouch hats.
"It is the risk you took," he said.
"Helmets would blister your head in the sun and were too heavy to manoeuvre efficiently, so the felt hat was the best option, regardless of the risk."
He vividly remembered waiting in formation with his comrades for dinner when the unthinkable occurred, and another battalion's shell fell short of its intended target.
"A drop short. It landed in front of the troops who were lined up for dinner, and it killed six of us. I was in about 10th position," he said.
Months before the Battle of Balikpapan, the battalion practised barge landing in Australia and Morotai before taking the shore in July 1945.
He was 20 years old.
With rucksacks secured on their backs and rifles in hand, soldiers huddled as one, as their arms held onto the side of the landing craft.
Their eyes gazed towards the beach approaching, but their view was obscured by a heavy black, smoke-drenched landscape with staggered palm trees ripped of fronds.
Russell stood with his fellow three-inch mortar crew, had a barrel on his back and three bombs underneath each arm.
"We were allowed to take up to four days. It was captured on the first day," he said.
After the war, Russell returned to Rockhampton and found work laying telephone cables for the Postmaster-General's Department.
He met his wife, Jenny Dickerson, through dinner dates with his sister, Yvonne.
Russell courageously asked Jenny if she would go on a date, and she said yes.
"That made my day," Russell said.
"She is the best thing that ever happened to me, believe me."
On November 15, 1952, they became husband and wife, and the couple adopted two girls, Michelle and Debbie.
Russell lived much of his later life in Albion Park Rail where he cared for his beloved veggie garden, enjoyed reading, attended church, and listened to music programs.
"If everybody was there to help one another, what a wonderful world it would be," Russell said.
"Good health, that's number one. If you have good friends and neighbours, that's number two. The other things are just extra."
After living an incredible 100 years, WWII veteran Russell "Rusty" Leslie Fuller has died and will finally reunite with his late wife, Jenny.
On Thursday, July 3, 2025, Russell, who had lived Albion Park Rail for about 25 years, died peacefully in Temora, where he had moved to be closer to his daughter Michelle.
Many in will remember Anzac Day 2020, when during the height of COVID, Rusty's neighbours in Albion Park Rail decided to put on a special service for their oldest serving resident, who was 95 at the time.
As the sun rose over Kimbeth Crescent, the WWII veteran and his neighbours stood on driveways and listened to the Last Post.
Rhonda Reeves, who was Russell's neighbour from across the road for more than two decades, described her friend as a very special man.
"I thought it would be lovely for Russell to feel special on Anzac Day, as he should, and we got the neighbourhood together and it turned out to be a very special day," she said.
"He was just so excited about it. He shared a lot of tears. He was just so proud walking around with younger children, while we all clapped him.
"He was wise, kind, giving, quiet-talking, never bragged or raised his voice. He was just someone you could sit and talk to. He was so calming. I don't think there's anyone else like him anymore."
Born to parents Richard and Grace Elizabeth in Goulburn on February 1, 1925, Russell "Rusty" Fuller was the second eldest of eight children.
Russell spent the first eight years of his life in Goulburn before he and his family moved to a farm in Forster.
The 500-acre farm "Coomba" was located in Shallow Bay, had 30 dairy cows, and provided milk to the Tuncurry Butter Factory.
As a child, Russell used the lakes and rivers that passed along the farm as highways to town - his mode of transport a small white wooden punt with two oars and a lot of elbow grease.
Russell was required to board a boat to get to school in Tuncurry, skippered by a German man named Poppy Norman.
The skipper must have thought his luck had dwindled, as each day, he would set crab and lobster pots along the coast and would rarely secure a catch.
But Russell and his best friend, Ronnie Foster, always seemed to have the catch of the day on their dinner tables.
"We were terrible. It was the wrong thing to do, but we got away with it," Russell said with a laugh when I spoke to him in 2020.
Before joining the army, Russell lived with his sister at Bulahdelah, where he worked in a timber mill.
"I got a call from the army to go and have a medical exam," Russell said.
"I was called up in June 1943. I had to get my Dad's permission to join the AIF. He said, 'Go ahead, Russell, go ahead'."
When speaking about his father, Richard, who served in the Australian Army during World War I, Russell always had a sparkle in his eyes and a smile on his face.
He said if it weren't for a Salvation Army lady, his father would have died in the trenches of the battle-torn landscape during the Battle of Menin Road.
Wounded in action when a bullet tore a deep incision in his right leg, two inches deep and three inches wide, Richard tried to hide his injury and dampen the pain with mud.
It hadn't worked, and he collapsed. His body was placed among the Canadian dead.
"This young little Salvation Army lady walked past, and Dad waved his hand, and she saw it and pulled him out," Russell said.
Like his father before him, Russell was proud of his service.
During World War II, he was part of the three-inch mortar patrol within the 2/16th battalion.
When he trained, he remembered being given metal helmets for protection.
Yet, Russell said those helmets often lay in the dirt, replaced by comfortable slouch hats.
"It is the risk you took," he said.
"Helmets would blister your head in the sun and were too heavy to manoeuvre efficiently, so the felt hat was the best option, regardless of the risk."
He vividly remembered waiting in formation with his comrades for dinner when the unthinkable occurred, and another battalion's shell fell short of its intended target.
"A drop short. It landed in front of the troops who were lined up for dinner, and it killed six of us. I was in about 10th position," he said.
Months before the Battle of Balikpapan, the battalion practised barge landing in Australia and Morotai before taking the shore in July 1945.
He was 20 years old.
With rucksacks secured on their backs and rifles in hand, soldiers huddled as one, as their arms held onto the side of the landing craft.
Their eyes gazed towards the beach approaching, but their view was obscured by a heavy black, smoke-drenched landscape with staggered palm trees ripped of fronds.
Russell stood with his fellow three-inch mortar crew, had a barrel on his back and three bombs underneath each arm.
"We were allowed to take up to four days. It was captured on the first day," he said.
After the war, Russell returned to Rockhampton and found work laying telephone cables for the Postmaster-General's Department.
He met his wife, Jenny Dickerson, through dinner dates with his sister, Yvonne.
Russell courageously asked Jenny if she would go on a date, and she said yes.
"That made my day," Russell said.
"She is the best thing that ever happened to me, believe me."
On November 15, 1952, they became husband and wife, and the couple adopted two girls, Michelle and Debbie.
Russell lived much of his later life in Albion Park Rail where he cared for his beloved veggie garden, enjoyed reading, attended church, and listened to music programs.
"If everybody was there to help one another, what a wonderful world it would be," Russell said.
"Good health, that's number one. If you have good friends and neighbours, that's number two. The other things are just extra."
After living an incredible 100 years, WWII veteran Russell "Rusty" Leslie Fuller has died and will finally reunite with his late wife, Jenny.
On Thursday, July 3, 2025, Russell, who had lived Albion Park Rail for about 25 years, died peacefully in Temora, where he had moved to be closer to his daughter Michelle.
Many in will remember Anzac Day 2020, when during the height of COVID, Rusty's neighbours in Albion Park Rail decided to put on a special service for their oldest serving resident, who was 95 at the time.
As the sun rose over Kimbeth Crescent, the WWII veteran and his neighbours stood on driveways and listened to the Last Post.
Rhonda Reeves, who was Russell's neighbour from across the road for more than two decades, described her friend as a very special man.
"I thought it would be lovely for Russell to feel special on Anzac Day, as he should, and we got the neighbourhood together and it turned out to be a very special day," she said.
"He was just so excited about it. He shared a lot of tears. He was just so proud walking around with younger children, while we all clapped him.
"He was wise, kind, giving, quiet-talking, never bragged or raised his voice. He was just someone you could sit and talk to. He was so calming. I don't think there's anyone else like him anymore."
Born to parents Richard and Grace Elizabeth in Goulburn on February 1, 1925, Russell "Rusty" Fuller was the second eldest of eight children.
Russell spent the first eight years of his life in Goulburn before he and his family moved to a farm in Forster.
The 500-acre farm "Coomba" was located in Shallow Bay, had 30 dairy cows, and provided milk to the Tuncurry Butter Factory.
As a child, Russell used the lakes and rivers that passed along the farm as highways to town - his mode of transport a small white wooden punt with two oars and a lot of elbow grease.
Russell was required to board a boat to get to school in Tuncurry, skippered by a German man named Poppy Norman.
The skipper must have thought his luck had dwindled, as each day, he would set crab and lobster pots along the coast and would rarely secure a catch.
But Russell and his best friend, Ronnie Foster, always seemed to have the catch of the day on their dinner tables.
"We were terrible. It was the wrong thing to do, but we got away with it," Russell said with a laugh when I spoke to him in 2020.
Before joining the army, Russell lived with his sister at Bulahdelah, where he worked in a timber mill.
"I got a call from the army to go and have a medical exam," Russell said.
"I was called up in June 1943. I had to get my Dad's permission to join the AIF. He said, 'Go ahead, Russell, go ahead'."
When speaking about his father, Richard, who served in the Australian Army during World War I, Russell always had a sparkle in his eyes and a smile on his face.
He said if it weren't for a Salvation Army lady, his father would have died in the trenches of the battle-torn landscape during the Battle of Menin Road.
Wounded in action when a bullet tore a deep incision in his right leg, two inches deep and three inches wide, Richard tried to hide his injury and dampen the pain with mud.
It hadn't worked, and he collapsed. His body was placed among the Canadian dead.
"This young little Salvation Army lady walked past, and Dad waved his hand, and she saw it and pulled him out," Russell said.
Like his father before him, Russell was proud of his service.
During World War II, he was part of the three-inch mortar patrol within the 2/16th battalion.
When he trained, he remembered being given metal helmets for protection.
Yet, Russell said those helmets often lay in the dirt, replaced by comfortable slouch hats.
"It is the risk you took," he said.
"Helmets would blister your head in the sun and were too heavy to manoeuvre efficiently, so the felt hat was the best option, regardless of the risk."
He vividly remembered waiting in formation with his comrades for dinner when the unthinkable occurred, and another battalion's shell fell short of its intended target.
"A drop short. It landed in front of the troops who were lined up for dinner, and it killed six of us. I was in about 10th position," he said.
Months before the Battle of Balikpapan, the battalion practised barge landing in Australia and Morotai before taking the shore in July 1945.
He was 20 years old.
With rucksacks secured on their backs and rifles in hand, soldiers huddled as one, as their arms held onto the side of the landing craft.
Their eyes gazed towards the beach approaching, but their view was obscured by a heavy black, smoke-drenched landscape with staggered palm trees ripped of fronds.
Russell stood with his fellow three-inch mortar crew, had a barrel on his back and three bombs underneath each arm.
"We were allowed to take up to four days. It was captured on the first day," he said.
After the war, Russell returned to Rockhampton and found work laying telephone cables for the Postmaster-General's Department.
He met his wife, Jenny Dickerson, through dinner dates with his sister, Yvonne.
Russell courageously asked Jenny if she would go on a date, and she said yes.
"That made my day," Russell said.
"She is the best thing that ever happened to me, believe me."
On November 15, 1952, they became husband and wife, and the couple adopted two girls, Michelle and Debbie.
Russell lived much of his later life in Albion Park Rail where he cared for his beloved veggie garden, enjoyed reading, attended church, and listened to music programs.
"If everybody was there to help one another, what a wonderful world it would be," Russell said.
"Good health, that's number one. If you have good friends and neighbours, that's number two. The other things are just extra."
After living an incredible 100 years, WWII veteran Russell "Rusty" Leslie Fuller has died and will finally reunite with his late wife, Jenny.
On Thursday, July 3, 2025, Russell, who had lived Albion Park Rail for about 25 years, died peacefully in Temora, where he had moved to be closer to his daughter Michelle.
Many in will remember Anzac Day 2020, when during the height of COVID, Rusty's neighbours in Albion Park Rail decided to put on a special service for their oldest serving resident, who was 95 at the time.
As the sun rose over Kimbeth Crescent, the WWII veteran and his neighbours stood on driveways and listened to the Last Post.
Rhonda Reeves, who was Russell's neighbour from across the road for more than two decades, described her friend as a very special man.
"I thought it would be lovely for Russell to feel special on Anzac Day, as he should, and we got the neighbourhood together and it turned out to be a very special day," she said.
"He was just so excited about it. He shared a lot of tears. He was just so proud walking around with younger children, while we all clapped him.
"He was wise, kind, giving, quiet-talking, never bragged or raised his voice. He was just someone you could sit and talk to. He was so calming. I don't think there's anyone else like him anymore."
Born to parents Richard and Grace Elizabeth in Goulburn on February 1, 1925, Russell "Rusty" Fuller was the second eldest of eight children.
Russell spent the first eight years of his life in Goulburn before he and his family moved to a farm in Forster.
The 500-acre farm "Coomba" was located in Shallow Bay, had 30 dairy cows, and provided milk to the Tuncurry Butter Factory.
As a child, Russell used the lakes and rivers that passed along the farm as highways to town - his mode of transport a small white wooden punt with two oars and a lot of elbow grease.
Russell was required to board a boat to get to school in Tuncurry, skippered by a German man named Poppy Norman.
The skipper must have thought his luck had dwindled, as each day, he would set crab and lobster pots along the coast and would rarely secure a catch.
But Russell and his best friend, Ronnie Foster, always seemed to have the catch of the day on their dinner tables.
"We were terrible. It was the wrong thing to do, but we got away with it," Russell said with a laugh when I spoke to him in 2020.
Before joining the army, Russell lived with his sister at Bulahdelah, where he worked in a timber mill.
"I got a call from the army to go and have a medical exam," Russell said.
"I was called up in June 1943. I had to get my Dad's permission to join the AIF. He said, 'Go ahead, Russell, go ahead'."
When speaking about his father, Richard, who served in the Australian Army during World War I, Russell always had a sparkle in his eyes and a smile on his face.
He said if it weren't for a Salvation Army lady, his father would have died in the trenches of the battle-torn landscape during the Battle of Menin Road.
Wounded in action when a bullet tore a deep incision in his right leg, two inches deep and three inches wide, Richard tried to hide his injury and dampen the pain with mud.
It hadn't worked, and he collapsed. His body was placed among the Canadian dead.
"This young little Salvation Army lady walked past, and Dad waved his hand, and she saw it and pulled him out," Russell said.
Like his father before him, Russell was proud of his service.
During World War II, he was part of the three-inch mortar patrol within the 2/16th battalion.
When he trained, he remembered being given metal helmets for protection.
Yet, Russell said those helmets often lay in the dirt, replaced by comfortable slouch hats.
"It is the risk you took," he said.
"Helmets would blister your head in the sun and were too heavy to manoeuvre efficiently, so the felt hat was the best option, regardless of the risk."
He vividly remembered waiting in formation with his comrades for dinner when the unthinkable occurred, and another battalion's shell fell short of its intended target.
"A drop short. It landed in front of the troops who were lined up for dinner, and it killed six of us. I was in about 10th position," he said.
Months before the Battle of Balikpapan, the battalion practised barge landing in Australia and Morotai before taking the shore in July 1945.
He was 20 years old.
With rucksacks secured on their backs and rifles in hand, soldiers huddled as one, as their arms held onto the side of the landing craft.
Their eyes gazed towards the beach approaching, but their view was obscured by a heavy black, smoke-drenched landscape with staggered palm trees ripped of fronds.
Russell stood with his fellow three-inch mortar crew, had a barrel on his back and three bombs underneath each arm.
"We were allowed to take up to four days. It was captured on the first day," he said.
After the war, Russell returned to Rockhampton and found work laying telephone cables for the Postmaster-General's Department.
He met his wife, Jenny Dickerson, through dinner dates with his sister, Yvonne.
Russell courageously asked Jenny if she would go on a date, and she said yes.
"That made my day," Russell said.
"She is the best thing that ever happened to me, believe me."
On November 15, 1952, they became husband and wife, and the couple adopted two girls, Michelle and Debbie.
Russell lived much of his later life in Albion Park Rail where he cared for his beloved veggie garden, enjoyed reading, attended church, and listened to music programs.
"If everybody was there to help one another, what a wonderful world it would be," Russell said.
"Good health, that's number one. If you have good friends and neighbours, that's number two. The other things are just extra."