At the age of 101, Margot McCormick is one of a rare few Australians who remember what it was like to watch a generation of young men leave home, never to return. 

It was 1943 and World War II was raging when the then-19-year-old told her father she wouldn’t be his secretary anymore and went off to lend her stenography skills to the war effort. 

“Everyone was aware of the seriousness of the war,” the centenarian tells the ABC at her home in Melbourne’s south-east. 

She joined the Women’s Auxiliary Australian Air Force (WAAAF) – an organisation created after women lobbied to serve in the war, freeing up more men to serve overseas.

The WAAAF was the largest women’s service branch during the war and paved the way for the integration of women into the Royal Australian Air Force by the 1980s.

Margot was among thousands of WAAAF members who worked a vast array of trades to keep the air force running, including technical work on aircraft.

Over four-and-a-half years, she worked as a clerk in Camberwell, Victoria Barracks in central Melbourne and Tocumwal, NSW, reaching the level of sergeant before she was discharged in 1946.

She holds three medals for her service: a War Medal 1939-1945, Australian Service Medal 1939-1945 and a General Service Badge. 

Thinking of the young men who never came back

In the eight decades since the end of World War II, the mother of six, grandmother of eight and great-grandmother of three has marked many Remembrance Days.

It was a big one last year when her local RSL in Highett installed a framed tribute recognising her service.

“Dear oh dear, fancy Remembrance Day round again so soon,” she says.

“Remembrance Day is always a sad day because you think of all the young fellas who went off to do their bit, and didn’t come back. But you also celebrate their life.”

Margot reflects fondly on her years of administrative work at the WAAAF because of camaraderie with other women and the sense they were doing something that mattered. 

“You made good friends and it was an experience you never forget,” she says. 

“I’d do it again if it happened, which I hope it won’t. It won’t to me anyway of course at my age. It meant a lot really.”

‘We’re lucky to still have her’, daughter says

When asked to introduce herself, Margot starts with her age: “I’m 100, I think.”

Her daughter, Jan McCormick, reminds her mother another year has passed.

“101. Oh goodness, that’s crept on me,” she says.

Jan says her parents shared little of their war-time experiences when she was a child.

They were of a generation who didn’t speak openly of war, however her mother opened up about it years later. 

Margot met her husband John — “such an uncommon name”, she quips — before he went overseas for active service during WWII. 

They married after the war and raised six children in the house Margot still lives in. 

John died in 1970, aged 46, leaving her widowed with six children aged from five to 17. 

“The life she was thrown into made her stronger,” daughter Jan says. 

Veteran family support organisation Legacy supported the family, she says.

In later years, Margot has been supported financially by the Department of Veterans Affairs and her ability to live at home is made possible thanks to Mercy Health Home Care and her extended family.

“She’s a very, very special person and we realise how lucky we are to still have her in our lives,” Jan says.

She attributes her mother’s longevity to staying physically active by playing tennis and golf until her 90s, following her Catholic faith and being a passionate supporter of St Kilda in the AFL. 

Most importantly though, Jan says, her mother has maintained close relationships with all six of her children.