It took three awful, agonising days to euthanase the burnt, blistered and smoke-afflicted stock on Louise and Ian Middleton's property in the aftermath of the Upper Murray bushfires.
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The sound of bleating lambs and ewes with burnt teats and feet, the frantic breathing of animals with smoke pneumonia huddled in a hurt mob around the family home is something Lou will never forget.
"Some of the sheep were so distressed they couldn't drink - it was horrific," she recalls.
In the end the Middletons lost 300 sheep (including lambs, ewes and half their rams), 6 cows and calves, and a bull after fires tore through their 900-acre property, near Cudgewa, Victoria on December 31, 2019.
Department of Agriculture vets came in to help Ian, Lou and their daughters Genevieve, 15, and Grace, 17, draft off injured stock while big machinery was brought in to dig a huge hole to bury the dead animals.
"It was like looking at our own funeral - our stock being euthanased in front of us," she says.
Ian and Lou had purchased the property themselves; at the time it had a lot of blackberries and steep, inaccessible country backing on to Wabba Wilderness Park.
In October, 2019 they spent good money on maiden ewes they were really proud of.
The couple had had just met their five-year plan for 'Logbridge' and had grown numbers to a "manageable operation" of more than 700 first-cross ewes when the bushfires roared through on December 31.
They knew the fire was coming, they'd prepared and when it ripped through Cudgewa that morning, Lou and the girls evacuated to Tallangatta while Ian stayed to fight for their farm.
Three different fire fronts assailed the property that day, including a backburn "that created havoc for us", according to Lou.
"Ian had our stock together in a bare area and went back to the house when a crew came in and told him they had lit a backburn to stop the fire getting into the wilderness," she says.
"They said, 'You've got 15 minutes to move your stock'."
It wasn't enough time and in the ensuing chaos, ewes jumped the fire, scorching their feet and teats.
Ian and a mate alone on a tractor fought to save the property
Miraculously a passing fire crew from Creightons Creek, near Euroa, spotted Ian and helped him save the beautiful old woolshed, which contained last year's wool clip.
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At least 20 men from that same crew, mostly farmers, would return in the months afterwards to help Ian with re-fencing projects.
Lou says the amount of support in many ways has been phenomenal.
The Tallangatta Football Netball Club, where the girls play netball, held two working bees on the property in the months following.
The day Ian and Lou had decided to sell all their cattle because they had no feed they took a call out of the blue from Brian Church, from the Bonegilla Fire Brigade, who had organised free agistment for some of the cattle.
Other mobs of sheep went to Granya and the horses to Koetong in the old school paddock.
"The number of people not from here who reached out to help us was amazing," Lou says.
"Looking back now it gives you goosebumps.
"That help was a major game changer for us - to be able to keep our breeding stock kept our business going."
The things you see ... we were wearing ski goggles and masks; it was like Armageddon - all dark and dead cattle everywhere.
- Louise Middleton
The Middletons were plunged immediately into drought conditions.
The "beautiful feed" they had carefully kept to get them through the summer was gone.
Grappling with the new challenges of pellet feeding remaining stock and the almost insurmountable task of re-fencing their steep country has brought "unimaginable" physical and mental pressure.
Ian, 55, has borne the brunt of that alone.
"Even though we are no longer physically exhausted, we are weary in our souls," Lou, 45, admits.
"It's gone quiet; not everyone can help us."
Then about a month ago Jamie Wolf pulled into their driveway unexpectedly.
The Fencing For Fires (FFF) founder and former soldier arrived "at the right time", Lou told him later.
Together they have tackled re-fencing at Logbridge; some of the steepest terrain Jamie's worked on.
FFF volunteers are renowned for taking on the "hard stuff" but even Jamie was "gobsmacked" to see what Ian had achieved on his own.
"He was plugging away - just him and his dogs," Jamie says.
"By far they have the hardest property in the Upper Murray to work on."
Jamie dubbed one hill "Everest" - 400 metres of straight vertical incline - where volunteers lugged heavy bundles of star pickets and other fencing equipment by hand in wet, treacherous conditions to get the job done.
"It's horrific to fence," Lou admits.
"We need these areas fenced because we have huge issues with deer and wild dogs.
"But with Fencing for Fires it's also about moral support - someone just doing the hard yards with you."
Jamie, who has suffered with the effects of PTSD, knows first-hand it's more than just the physical workload.
"No one is doing it easy in this," he says.
"When you lose everything and have to start again - it's a huge cost and huge mental battle."
The Wodonga dad, who has raised $55,000 through a gofundme campaign and attracted 8000 followers on Facebook, learned this week he has been shortlisted for the national Australia Day awards.
With the support of his dad Alex and an astute mentor in Deloitte CEO Pete Williams, Jamie has turned $55,000 into hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of donated supplies and labour.
And while COVID-19 has put a stop - for now - to support from the "wonderful Melbourne contingent", Jamie says the work won't stop.
He's particularly proud of the fact FFF was able to extend its reach across the fire front to fence 12 properties at Cobargo recently.
"There are so many stories; things I will remember for the rest of my life," Jamie says.
"I have also seen first-hand the lack of support on the ground.
"Australians donated to help in this fire disaster and six months later, so many have seen so little of that."
Countless people still living in makeshift accommodation, too many feeling forgotten in the shadow of the COVID-19 crisis and small bands of volunteers doing extraordinary things.
Lou is the first to point out there are so many others in a worse position than theirs.
She recalls a phone call from a distraught friend who lost her home and couldn't find their stock after the blaze tore through their place.
Lou went to help her and says the scenes she encountered were like a horror movie.
"The things you see ...," she says with a pause.
"You have to understand there was just so much smoke everywhere and we were wearing ski goggles and masks.
"It was like Armageddon - all dark and dead cattle everywhere."
(The Border Mail chose not to publish the videos and pictures from this incident, due to the graphic and highly distressing nature of the material.)
At times, Lou admits, you don't know how much more you can take.
"But you've just got to put on your peal earrings and keep going," she told her girlfriend during those wretched days.
When her friend said she didn't have any pearls, Lou put Ian in the car and they drove to town and bought her a pair - the same day torrential rain wiped out all their dams.
Small gestures that mean so much when it all seems too hard.
Somehow you find the strength to keep going, says Lou, a registered nurs/midwife by trade.
"You have to have hope," she says.
"That's why we don't give up.