E xtracts from a letter written by Lt William Britt

Transcription

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1A People’s Stories
xtracts from a letter written by Lt William Britt
about the landing at Gallipoli
It was fast getting light and when we were 600 yards from the shore
the destroyers stopped and we prepared to get into the boats.
We scrambled into the boats about 50 in each boat and started to
pull for the shore. By this time the bullets were splashing all round the
boat and a great many of our fellows were hit some fatally. We had to
row 600 yards in the face of a murderous fire, machine gun and rifle
and not a man flinched. We could see the flashes from the hills in
front but not a Turk could we see.
The boat grounded 30 yards from the Beach and I jumped into the
water icy cold and up to my waist. I was carrying 250 rds
ammunition. Pack with clothes and kit weighing 30 lbs. Haversack
with 4 tins dog biscuits etc, a water bag, 3 cement bags rolled up to
be used as sand bags. Well I waded to the shore (by this time they
had our range and men were dropping all round me. They had
measured the range previously of course.)
I got a bullet through the cap as I stepped out of the water. I threw off
my pack and took cover behind a heap of pebbles. There was no
cover from bullets as the Turks were entrenched on the top of a cliff
which ran round in a half circle and rose straight up at a distance of
500 yards from the water. Well I was loading my rifle by this time and
trying to make out the trenches in the half light but could see nothing
but the rifle flashes. We were getting it hot by this time.
Two of my chums fell here both killed instantly. Then one of my
lacrosse chums, Corporal Danes, was shot and a lot more. Then
someone spotted the trenches and we put a hot fire into them and
drove them out. The first Turks I saw was crawling up the slope. I
underestimated the range first shot but got him the second. We took
the hill and advanced about half mile and the Turks counter-attacked
and then the fight started properly.
Lt Britt (centre) with two fellow officers
The machine gun and rifle fire was deafening and the shrapnel burst all over us. My rifle got so hot once I had to stop firing.
The Turks were estimated at 50 to 1. The fight lasted all day. I told you before I was a sniper and I thoroughly enjoyed my self.
Once I crawled out on my own to snipe a machine gun. I was having a grand time till my gun jammed sand on the bolt. Took
me 5 minutes to fix it.
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xtracts from a letter written by Lt William Britt
They spotted me at last and peppered the bush I was lying behind. I had to keep my head down I can tell you. All they did
was to shoot a hole through my pocket and smash the stem of my pipe. Any how they sent out a sniper to get me. I
pretended not to see him and didn’t fire. I let him crawl about 150 yards. I could see the stump he was making for and trained
my rifle on it. The begger thought he was safe and I watched him push his rifle out to take aim and then he died mighty quick.
After that I crawled back. I was mighty hungry but no time to eat. Things were too hot. By 5 o’clock things were getting
dashed lively, our guns and theirs playing a duet. We got shrapnel at the rate of 10 shells per half minute. Every time a shell
would burst over my head the shock of the explosion blew my cap off. I expected to get my head blown off too but I didn’t.
The rifle bullets were like Bees. I got hit on the wrist just a scratch and several went through my clothes without touching me.
You soon get used to rifle bullets but shrapnel is rotten.
I was firing away when all of a sudden there was a deafening shock along side me. I felt a severe blow in the hip, rifle blown
out of my hands and I was lifted about two feet in the air. I was unconscious for a while and when I came round I saw what
had happened. A shell had burst on my right killing a lot of fellows who were lying near me and wounding me in the right hip.
My trousers were soaked with blood and I was in a bad way.
I couldn’t use my leg so I got my gun, gave the few cartridges I had left to one of the chaps and crawled back about 40
yards. I was settled then and had to have a spell. Then I crawled on about 1/2 of a mile and some more wounded chaps
gave me a hand. Then we struck some Red Cross chaps who tied up my wound and stopped the bleeding. Then they
carried me back to the beach and I was laid on a stretcher with hundreds of others wounded too. Wound was getting very
painful by this time. Then I discovered some cigarettes which hadn’t got wet. Borrowed a match and life saved. The enemy
shelled us unmercifully as we lay on the beach killing several. It was 7 o’clock by this time.
Presently we were put in a barge and towed out to a ship that was lying out from the shore. There was no accommodation
for us and we laid on the floor wrapped in a blanket. We got to Alexandria on the following Friday.
Material taken from www.australiansatwar.gov.au—‘The Great Search’
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xtracts from a letter written by Harold Craig
I believe the first lot to arrive fixed bayonets in the
water and did not wait for any orders but simply
charged the Turks. Some of them dropped the
guns and cried for mercy, which they didn’t get,
and the rest went for their lives to the trenches.
Well we landed. We marched about 100 yards and
then took a rest and then word came to go up into
the firing line at once. We threw our packs away
and then got on with the game. The country was
so rough and scrubby that you couldn’t see where
you were going and the shrapnel was bursting all
round us and the bullets were so thick that we
thought they were bees buzzing about us.
I was hiding behind a bush and the bullets were
cutting the leaves off. There must have been
100 000 Turks against 20 000 Australians as the
French and British landed somewhere else so you
can see we were having a pretty hot time,
especially as we did not have artillery with us.
The shrapnel was worse than hell, was getting
nearer to us every minute, so I said to the officer
that we ought to get into the firing line and try and
pot a few Turks before we throw a seven. The
rotten beggar wasn’t having any so I left him.
Then I got up to the firing line. I was lying next to a
major who was shot in both legs. It was awful
hearing the wounded crying out and seeing the
dead lying round you.
Well after a while a bullet hit me, and just grazed
my wrist enough to burn the skin. I didn’t take any
notice of that, but about five minutes after one got
me clean through the arm. I tried to go on but was
settled.
Harold Craig
Craig went on to recount reports he had heard
that the 2nd Brigade had been sent to reinforce the French and British after two days rest and with barely 1000 men
left.
They were told that as they put in such good work the first day that it was a post of honour they were being sent there.
The brigadier came along and called out ‘Come on Australians, show these French and British beggars how to fight.’ That
was enough. They jumped out of the trenches and charged. They left the French and British behind but the Australians got
shot down like rabbits. I believe there is only about 200 of the 2nd Brigade left on the field and not one officer . . .
Well Ken, I suppose you are tired of reading this and think I am boasting of ourselves too much but everybody calls us the
‘White Gurkhas’. A Tommy told me that a Seat of Gold was not good enough for the Australians to sit upon. When you
receive this I will be right in it again.
Letter written from his hospital bed on 18 May 1915. Harold Gordon Craig was sent back to Gallipoli where he was
severely wounded by an exploding bomb during an attack on the German officers’ trench on 7 August. He died the
next day on the hospital ship Dunluce Castle and was buried at sea.
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xtracts from a letter written by David Sharp
Mills about the landing at Gallipoli
The battleships, at 4 o’clock, when about 3000
yards from the shore, suddenly stopped and
manned their guns and searchlights got ready,
and their boats were ordered ashore, and 12
lines of boats steamed slowly past the
battleships, crowded with khaki-clad figures.
Every eye was fixed on the grim hills, shapeless,
yet menacing in the gloom. Not a sound was
heard or a light seen. It appeared as if the enemy
was surprised, for suddenly, at about 4.20, an
alarm light was flashed for ten minutes, and then
disappeared.
The brigade did not wait for orders but jumped
into the water and waded ashore and rushed
straight at the enemy with fixed bayonets.
All was over in a few minutes, for the Turks were
either bayoneted or had fled. A Maxim gun was
captured. The Brigade, confronted with an
almost perpendicular cliff covered with shrubbery,
and in the face of a terrible fire coming from the
trees half way up, loaded their magazines and
proceeded to scale the cliff without replying to
the fire of the Turks, whom they ejected in less
than half an hour. The land looked formidable
and forbidding with enumerable ridges, valleys
and sand-drifts and covered with a dense scrub,
was ideal for snipers. It was impossible to
organise a regular attack as the officers were
unable to see their men who were lost in the
scrub immediately they advanced in open order.
The fire from the warships had more moral effect
than real, as the positions of the enemy were not
known. Some Australians who pushed inland
David Sharp Mills
were attacked by Turkish supports and had to
retire suffering heavy casualties. The Turks
counter-attacked all day, but the Australians did
not yield a foot of ground on the main ridge, and reinforcements were constantly rushed up from the beach …
When the Battalion which I am attached to landed, we were ordered to act as supports to the firing line, so we lost no time
getting over those hills to get there. All fear seems to leave you and one gets a bit daring as he gets towards the firing line
despite the number of wounded and dying one sees, getting into the trenches.
There is one thing about our fellows and that is they are very cool even in the hottest parts of the fighting and can get on just
the same without officers as with them, for there were times when no officer was in the line and a private would give out the
orders and the men would obey him just the same as an officer.
One could hardly believe the nature of the wounded men as they were just as merry although they were shot beyond
recovery, as others who were only slightly wounded. All cheered as they were lying in lighters and trawlers, while waiting to
be accommodated on the ships.
David Mills was killed in action near Villers-Bretonneux on 22 July 1916, aged 24.
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xtracts from a letter written by Hugh Anderson
about the Battle of Lone Pine
We got to our positions about 4pm and the artillery commenced bombarding the Turkish trenches and they returned the
compliment and the crash and scream of shells was deafening for a little over an hour, the smell of explosives was very
strong and the suspense of waiting tried our nerves. I was nervous I can tell you and put up many a prayer for courage. I bet
others did also.
About 5pm the officers were all there with watch in hand calling 3 minutes to go, 2 minutes to go, 1 minute to go half a
minute to go and shut his watch and three shrill blasts of a whistle. Out scrambled the boys from advanced line up through
holes in the ground, the trench being a tunnel. Over the parapet go the 2nd Battalion and we are close behind. I will never
forget that picture, I was well up with the rest racing like mad, all nervousness gone now. The shrapnel falling as thick as hail,
many a good man went down here although I never noticed it at the time.
I got alongside of Captain Milson of Milson’s Point. I slid down into the trench, the Turks ran round a corner and got into a
large cave place dug in the trench side as a bomb proof shelter. The first man to follow was shot dead, here we were
checked. Captain Milson took command.
Milson started throwing, and I was next to him lighting bombs for him. He then
proposed getting a party the other side of this possie and bombing from both
sides and asked if we would follow him. We all said ‘yes’ so he threw a bomb
and dashed across. A dozen Turks shot him and he fell dead the other side. I
was next and as I ran I threw my rifle into the possie and pulled the
trigger. I suppose they had never got time to load as I never got hit,
but no one followed and I was there alone with no bombs and only
my rifle. I shouted to them to come on but they were not having any.
Wack! Like a sledge hammer on the head and down I went across
Milson’s body and several Turks, some of whom were only
wounded, and groaned and squirmed from time to time. I
bled pretty freely and then I got a crack on the shoulder
from a shrapnel pillet which hurt badly but did not do
much damage.
Soon I heard someone call behind me ‘Hullo
Australia’ and I crawled down the trench and
found Seldon with one eye shot out, but
still going, leading a party and I
explained the position to him and he
sent me away to a temporary dressing
station while he went and fixed up the
Turks. They captured 15 Turks and
1 German Officer for that position.
I got my head bandaged and a drink
of rum and felt better,
As darkness come on reinforcements
arrived, and I went into the firing line and
stood on guard with them. While I was
working and hot my head did not trouble me, but
when it was cold it started to ache, and I had a bad
time all night. I left the trenches on Saturday and how I
was sent to Lemnos you already know.
Hugh Anderson wrote the letter from which these
extracts are taken to his parents on 6 January 1916.
He was killed in the second Battle of Bullecourt on
5 May 1917.
Material taken from www.australiansatwar.gov.au—
‘The Great Search’
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xtracts from a letter written by Lt Boyes about
conditions at Gallipoli
We landed on Gallipoli in what we were wearing and
continued to wear it day and night until the socks were the
first garments to become unwearable, and they were cast
out and we went barefoot in our boots.
We discarded our tunics during the day as the weather
became hotter, and working and living in earthen trenches,
while sometimes sweating profusely caused our pants and
thick pure woollen shirts to become even worse than filthy.
We got only sufficient fresh water, in fact, on some days barely
enough to drink, so washing garments was out of the
question, and so the only alternative was to get down to the
beach and wash our garments and ourselves in the brine,
which as far as our garments was concerned made little
difference.
The Turks had a battery of guns, each of which we called
‘Beachy Bill’ which could land shells on any given spot of
more than half a dozen man congregated for more than a
few seconds. So, it might happen that one’s trip to the
beach was a ‘washout’.
It was a man’s world as there were no women or children
within our boundaries to be considered and the Officers right
up through to General Birdwood himself did not seem to
worry about our dress or undress so long as we could and
would fight the enemy when necessary.
But, the sight of those men (I did it too) clad only in boots
and hat walking back from the beach swinging their pants
and shorts is a sight I have never forgotten.
There were parasites which caused an abominable itch to
which ever part of the skin where they operated. They lived and
bred mainly in the seams of the inner garments and as there
Lt Boyes
Men bathing
was no hot water or chemicals available for
their control or destruction the field was
open for them to multiply and flourish. The
best control means available was to wear
the clothing inside out and then there were
no seams next to the skin for the pest to
hide away in and breed. This I did with my
flannel shirt, but I simply could not come at
wearing my trousers inside out, even
though many of the other men did. It
simply looked too awful.
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xtracts from a letter written by Harry Wells
about war on the Western Front
My dear little Earn, I have been waiting this
flaming long time for a letter from you but I
think all hands have turned me down since I
left Australia. Well Earn this will be about the
last letter you will get from me now, as one
doesant know the day his number is called
and fritz has a bad habbit of trying to put a
mans light out. I am shore he will kill some
one yet before he is done and tell you the
truth I am expecting him to get me.
My word Earn the part I don’t like is when a
chap has to sling his cobber in a whole and
say fairwell to him, it is a hard thing to see
your mates that have had all good times
with you drop dead a few feet from you, &
you never know what shell or bullet is going
to cut through you. But on on you have to
go, half mad, half dead, yelling, shouting,
through a hell on earth, picking your best
track through the shell torn & bettered
ground, mud in places up to ones knees &
deeper, with bullets passing & whisling over
ones head & on every side & see them cut
the ground in front of you then frits waiting
with a glittering 18ins of cold steel.
It is then one thinks of a dear little spot so
quiet so peaceful, a place called Emu
Swamp, it is then when one thinks of all his
wrong doings & says many a silent prair (I
will own up to it). When gass shells land &
poison the little air that one breaths, I have
to where a gass resperator for eight hours or
more & feels like smuthering & can’t touch it.
It is then when one thinks of his little grey
home in the west.
The Wells family
Take care of your parents & never give them any trouble. Earn I will regret all the trouble I have giving my mother. Well Earn
time is scarce & I have duty to do & I must say fairwell as I don’t expect to last long & by the time you get this I might be
knocked rotten. So far I have been very lucky indeed.
Well Earn I have to go now have a good time & do stay at home, don’t leave home, quite a little prair.
As I write this note the ground is jumping under my feet & airplains buzzing & humming over head shells bursting & a regular
hell on earth, unexplainable, so keep on smiling K.O.S. We are taring hell out of Frits now—I really think another 5 years will
end this war. I call it whole sail slaughter Earn this last battle taught fritz that we couldn’t be plaid with. Our company went in
two hundread strong & we lost nearly or more than half to get across at him, but we did give it to him when we got there. But
after that stunt there were only 43 of us to answer our names & tremble in the legs now when I think of it.
A little wooden cross over my head back a little from the trenches & used to be expecting a bullet at any moment to tare
through me. I felt the wind of several bullets pass my face that day & whistle as they passed. But that only makes one thirst
for their blod but every step you go you wounder when your work (?) is coming & expecting it every second & woundering
where you are going to get hit. All this goes through your mind in two seconds.
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xtracts from letters written by Private William
O’Brien about war on the Western Front
In the trenches you have only what you stand in and a waterproof
sheet. Ah gee it is cold. It is so cold that the ground is frozen so
hard that it breaks all the picks, so we are unable to enlarge our
trenches or even improve them.
We get plenty of tinned food, which is frozen hard and cannot be
eaten – you will never understand what I mean by this freezing.
Meat is frozen so hard that a knife will not touch it, even the bread
is frozen so hard that you cannot eat it. You simply sit there and
freeze. Otherwise it is not too bad.
Well, I might tell you that I like the front line very much. I admit it is a
bit of a strain on a chap’s nerves, but it is great to be a dinkum
soldier, looking over no-man’s land knowing that you can claim it
any time you wish. We have been in the fighting area for 56 days
and actually in the front line for about 30 days. We have not shown
the white feather when the bullets were flying; at least our friends
are quite satisfied with our conduct.
We have suffered severely. We have lived in the mud, snow and ice
and still we have enough fight in us to make Fritz’s well-trained
troops run. I have had some close calls but at no time did I doubt
that the BVM [Blessed Virgin Mary] would protect me.
We had a long weary march back here for a spell. We got a bath
and a change of underclothes, then your parcel. By gee you are the
angels of my life … Everyone is doing their best. I know you will not
worry. I am harder than average, you know that? I look so fat and
rosy you would think that I was here for the good of my health.
William O’Brien (left) with his brother Anthony
We are getting ready for a hop over [attack]. I guess it will come off in a day or two. We are in good form. Uncle Harry
[a family friend] got a shell wound in the arm yesterday. You can bet on us giving Fritz a rough time.
Private William O’Brien 25th Battalion AIF was killed in action in France on 23 April 1917, aged 20. His mother
received the news on what would have been his 21st birthday.
Lt Geo Walsh wrote to Mrs O’Brien extending the sympathy of all in the Company.
I can assure you all here, officers, NCOs and men were surprised and very sorry indeed to hear of poor Willie’s death.
It was 7.30 pm on Sunday 22 April in the front line that the Hun began to shell us; one shell happened to do more damage
than we ever wished for. Fragments caught Willie in the
head and left hand and arm, rendering him unconscious
and causing a great loss of blood.
Whilst being dressed he gained his senses for about 10 or 15
minutes and was talking to pals around him. We got him away
to the large dressing station in all haste but the end came just
about two hours after the accident.
There was not a happier lad in the Company and his
cheeriness and good nature and heartiness gained him the
respect of all. He was as brave as the best and always willing
to do anything no matter how risky or heavy and believe me
there wasn’t a lad more popular with all ranks than Will.
William O’Brien’s best mate Con Grokam (who was killed
in the same action as William) being farewelled by
William’s older sister Nancy. She entered a convent
soon after World War I ended.
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xtracts from letters written by Lt John Raws
about war on the Western Front
You have no idea of the hell and horror of a great advance, old fellow, and I hope you never will have. We fought and lived as
we stood, day and night, without even overcoats to put on at night & with very little food.
One feels on a battlefield such as this one can never survive, or that if the body lives the brain must go forever. For the horrors
one sees and the never-ending shock of the shells is more than can be borne. Hell must be a home to it.
I lost, in three days, my brother and two best friends, and in all six out of seven of all my officer friends (perhaps a score in
number) who went into the scrap – all killed. Not one was buried, and some died in great agony. It was impossible to help the
wounded at all in some sectors. We could fetch them in, but could not get them away. And often we had to put them out on
the parapet to permit movement in the shallow, narrow, crooked trenches. The dead were everywhere. There had been no
burying in the sector I was in for a week before we went there.
One or two of my friends stood splendidly, like granite rocks round which the seas stormed in vain. They were all junior
officers. But many other fine men broke to pieces. Everyone called it shell shock. But shell shock is very rare. What 90 per
cent get is justifiable funk, due to the collapse of the helm—self-control.
My battalion has been at it for eight days and one-third of it is left—all shattered at that. And they’re sticking it still,
incomparable heroes all. We are lousy, stinking, ragged, unshaven, sleepless. Even when we’re back a bit we can’t sleep for
our own guns. I have one puttee, a dead man’s helmet, another dead man’s gas protector, a dead man’s bayonet. My tunic is
rotten with other men’s blood and partly splattered with a comrade’s brains. It is horrible but why should you people at home
not know.
We got away as best we could. I was again in the rear going back and again we were cut off and lost. I was buried twice, and
thrown down several times—buried with dead and dying. The ground was covered with bodies in all stages of decay and
mutilation, and I would, after struggling free from the earth, pick up a body by me to try to lift him out with me, and find him a
decayed corpse. I pulled a head off—was covered with blood. The horror was indescribable.
Shrapnel, minewerfers, whizz-bangs, bombs, lachrymose shells, gas shells, - and thousands of gaping dead. The stench,
and the horridness of it can but be mentioned. I have sat on corpses, walked on corpses and pillaged corpses. I got many
interesting German souvenirs and could have secured cartloads from their trenches, but I lost most that I took, and usually
was too busy to pick up anything. I lost nearly all my equipment and clothes and with them my curiosities but I brought back
one bonzer souvenir that I did not expect to bring back—myself.
2nd Lt John Alexander Raws was killed in action 23 August 1916, Pozières, France
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he story of Barney Hines on the Western Front
John ‘Barney’ Hines was a real
thorn in the side of the German
army during World War I, so
much so that the Kaiser put a
price on his head ‘dead or alive’.
He became a master at
souveniring, looting all sorts of
items from dead and captured
Germans and returning
triumphant to the Australian lines.
So good was he that he became
known as the ‘Souvenir King’.
Barney was not at all fazed by
his notoriety and continued to
collect great supplies of badges,
helmets, guns, watches and
other jewellery while maintaining
his amazing attacks on German
troops. He was reputed to have
killed more Germans than any
other soldier in the AIF.
The ‘Souvenir King’
AWM E00822
On one occasion he reached a
German pill box and danced on
the roof taunting the occupants to come out. When nothing happened he lobbed a couple of Mills bombs through the gun
openings, killing some and forcing the rest, about 63 of them, to come out with raised arms. He duly collected his souvenirs
from them and herded them back to the Australian lines.
Among his more unusual souvenirs were a grand piano, which
he managed to keep for several days, a grandfather clock
which was eventually blown up by his own men because it
attracted shell fire from the German lines whenever it chimed,
a barrel of Bass ale, which he shared with his comrades, and
several suitcases full of banknotes from the bank at Amiens.
He was arrested by British military police but caused so much
bother he was returned to his unit.
Hines was born in Liverpool, England, and tried to join the
British Army when he was 14. When World War I broke out
he tried to enlist in the AIF when already in his 40s. He was
rejected on medical grounds. But he persisted and was
finally accepted. And then began his amazing sequence of
daring attacks and enthusiastic souveniring.
He was wounded when at Passchendaele every man in his
Lewis gun crew was killed by an exploding shell. Hines was
flung 20 metres through the air, had the soles ripped from his
boots but still managed to crawl back and keep firing until he
fainted from his wounds.
He was soon back in action but not long afterwards was hit
above the eye by a bullet and was hit by a gas attack. He
was eventually repatriated to Australia and recovered
sufficiently to take up droving, prospecting and timber
cutting. When World War II broke out he again tried to enlist
in his 60s but for some reason was rejected.
John ‘Barney’ Hines
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10 People’s Stories
eminiscences of Eila M.C. Fox
(formerly ACW Eila Pickup)
I enlisted in 1942. Firstly we were sent to New Lambton in Newcastle
where we moved into the local school. We were billeted in the Assembly
Hall with cold showers, wire beds and straw palliasses and food cooked
in dixies in the school yard. We were trained here and then later posted to
Sydney to work with the Americans who had just arrived.
They took over three floors of the Hotel Metropole and we had wonderful
food and hotel beds (four to a room) and hotel linen! We marched each
day up to Macquarie Street and down a hundred wooden steps into the
railway tunnel between St. James and the Quay where Fighter Sector had
been set up. There were no trains there in the tunnel at that time.
The shifts were long and we were not allowed to eat on duty—just coffee
made from condensed milk and hot water. There was a great pile of
empty cans in that tunnel!
We knew a lot about unidentified aircraft and ships sunk off the coast of
Australia but were sworn to secrecy. Actually we were on duty when the
Japanese submarines were in the harbour and were anxious that their
target may have been to come through the Botanical Gardens and throw
grenades into Fighter Sector to disrupt Sydney’s defence.
Then the Americans were posted to north Queensland and the Australian
Air Force moved us immediately out of the Hotel Metropole into a tenement
building in Macquarie Street where we were back to wire beds, straw
palliasses, apple cases for furniture and stewed chops in the basement!
Eila (‘Bon’) Pickup
After some months some of the girls became ill as the air conditioning was
very poor in the tunnel. We were then moved to Bankstown into a disused
picture theatre set up for Operations. Here we were much closer to our
Fighter Squadron at the aerodrome.
At the 50th Anniversary of the ending of
World War II in 1995 the women were
recognised for the first time and
awarded a medal for their contribution
to the war effort. I found it almost
unbelievable when I attended, that all
these older grey haired ladies who
marched in Canberra to meet the Prime
Minister and other authorities at
Parliament House, were the vibrant
young girls who dared to leave their
homes and join the services in 1941.
Material taken from
www.australiansatwar.gov.au—
Recruits
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eminiscences of Reg Mahoney as a prisoner of
war of the Japanese
As a prisoner of the Japanese, Reg Mahoney and his mates
were ordered to bury some bodies.
We started digging, obviously the excavation was a big grave for
the bodies that lay on the beach.
Then came the gruesome job of dragging the corpses to the
grave. To make this worse, we found that their hands had been
tied together, and the victims linked in fives or sixes.
As we expected, they were Chinese, mostly wearing coarse blue
clothes. We could not tell whether some were young men or
women.
There were bullet holes in different parts of the bodies.
It was easy to imagine the scene. To create terror and leave no
doubt as to who wore the iron heel, the Japs had rounded up
these Chinese, perhaps selecting at random, and brought them to
the beach.
Tied together, the Chinese had been marched into the sea and
callously slaughtered with a burst of machine gun fire in their
backs.
One man was dragging bodies from the water’s edge when he
started back with a strained grim face and blazing eyes to
shout— ‘Jesus, this one is still alive!’
A Jap rushed to the scene, kicked the body, and then made signs
for it to be held under the water. The men quietly stood there
refusing to move. He swung his rifle forward and made ready for a
bayonet lunge at the nearest man’s belly. Slowly the men moved
to the sickly task. We were forced to render similar treatment on
other bodies in which life was suspected.
Reg Mahoney
‘The Japs must pay for this,’ was the determination expressed by every man present.
Another example of brutality involved the POWs at Hintok Mountain Camp on the Burma-Thailand Railway in 1943.
The five men missing from No. 2 gang when a check was made were called out and stood to attention. ‘Molly the Monk’, a
lumbering heavy individual, strode up and punched each man twice in the face. He was followed by his corporal ‘Jumbo’.
Two men were knocked down. The Japs kicked them viciously until they groggily stood up.
Two men were knocked unconscious and could not rise. In a wicked fury the Japs kicked them, tore at their ears and hair
and tried to make them stand up. Then they jumped up and down on the bodies, cursing and spitting.
Immediately they heard of this, the three missing men came forward, although they had heard the Japs’ shrieks while venting
their sadistic fury, on others. Those three men were bashed. kicked, thrown, jumped on and pummelled for an hour and a
half. When the Japs could not knock them out, they tried to throw them into the fire.
When the punishment stopped the three men were stood to attention. They stood there, faces black with bruises, eyes
swollen, and bodies covered with red weals, and, although their knees were shaking, the very set of their heads and
shoulders spelled defiance and contempt. Their spirit was magnificent. Their names were Cpl Alan Hourigan, Sapper
‘Squeaker’ Worther, and Cpl Wimpie.
There was not a man in the camp who did not swear vengeance on that gang of engineers.
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eminiscences of Jack McAulay
While many young men left Australia to fight overseas during World War II, one large group of men made a
significant contribution to the war effort back home.
These were the men of the Civil Constructional Corps (CCC) who were responsible for building many major facilities
throughout Australia during World War II, utilising the skills of thousands of tradesmen, building workers and
labourers.
One of the men who volunteered for the CCC was Jack McAulay, who worked on projects all over Australia.
The men of the CCC did a wonderful job for the Australian and US forces during World War II. We carried out their building
requirements all over Australia, particularly in northern parts. It was just like being in the forces because you had to go
wherever they sent you.
But despite the important work they were doing and the fact that they were all issued with numbers similar to Army
personnel, they received few, if any of the advantages of being in the forces.
Our own camps were very poor, some of them having only hurricane lamps. There were cold showers, no sewers, no army
rations, no amenities and no camp concerts or travelling picture shows. However, the Army used to let us in to watch their
shows if there were any nearby.
The men in the CCC had to provide their own work clothes, boots and their own good clothes and blankets. The
Government of the day provided the absolute bare minimum for us. We slept on old stretchers with hessian bags filled with
straw for mattresses and the pillows were made of the same material.
We had to provide all our own tools and we even had to provide the files to keep our hand saws sharp. If we lost or damaged
a tool we had to buy a replacement. We had to buy our own soap, toothpaste, hair oils etc and when we moved camp we
were loaded up like packhorses with our tool kits and a couple of rolled up blankets tied to our suit cases.
There were no medical services in our camp, unlike the Army. They provided the meals but we had to pay for them and the
money was docked from us each pay day.
We received a civilian service medal and certificate 50 years after the war ended. The certificate states in part ‘A grateful
nation expresses its thanks to Daniel John McAulay for contributing to the war effort and the coming of peace.’
But I often wonder how grateful they were really.
Jack McAulay and CCC mates
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xtracts from a radio documentary on an action in
New Guinea, 1945
We’re into the deep gloom of the jungle now.
Long columns of men turned packhorses. The Boong Train may reach us later, but it is difficult to anticipate anything in this
warfare. Many of the men are carrying over 100 pounds [45 kilos] of supplies and equipment. One reel of signal wire which is
carried and paid out by two men weighs 96 pounds [43.5 kilos]. These men must carry their own equipment in addition.
We trudge forward.
Rest period once again for a few minutes. The units are instructed to take up defensive positions automatically.
Three of us are sitting idly at the base of a tree. ‘What’s that?’ yells one of the boys. Three feet away from us a death adder
throws up its head. We kill it, and not many yards away we kill its mate.
But the death adders we fear are the enemy snipers. The day is young as yet, and there is a story to tell in time and place.
Saw toothed leaves drag at the skin and clothing. The leaves of the Gympie set the skin afire with a deadly stinging. The skin
will be aflame 24 hours afterwards. The welter of intertwined vines throw men into the filthy ooze. They emerge as filthy as the
slime into which they were thrown. The ants drop onto their clothing from the overhanging foliage. Their acid sting is another
rotten business.
At last we are through.
A perimeter is thrown across and around the track. Weapon pits are dug and immediately manned. We are in ambush, and
we don’t have long to wait.
A party of Japs is unsuspectingly moving towards us. The fire is held. Now!! And Jap dead lie astride the track.
Grim isn’t it? But wait—one or two have escaped into the jungle along the sides of the track.
There is a grenade explosion not 50 yards from us. Whichever Jap threw the grenade is a hidden menace to us. It must be a
job of ‘find out’.
The patrol party moves slowly forward. The stream is crossed. Behind the bamboo we see that one of the enemy who has
been mortally wounded has killed himself with the grenade we heard. He placed it against his abdomen.
Then crack!! The deadly bullet of the hidden enemy sniper. This time it is our turn. One of our boys has got it. He is badly
wounded. He lies in the middle of the track. We work round to get an approach. We get him to a hole at the side of the road.
Four of us carry him, and in minutes he is with the stretcher bearers.
The task of this unit for the first day is complete.
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xtracts from letters written by Sylvia Duke
about her experience in Greece
My dear those days we spent nursing in a
hospital about 14 miles out of Athens are just
like a nightmare—streams and streams of
ambulances bringing our boys back, lack of
equipment, lack of food, not enough hands
to really make them even a bit comfortable,
the Huns dive bombing & machine gunning
the ambulance trains, and the ambulance
boys taking eight days even to cover a
distance that should normally take a few
hours—wounded boys coming to us hungry
and very little food to give them, boys in
agony and a shortage of drugs only to be
given in extreme cases.
No forceps to do dressings, no sterile
dressings even rolls of gauze and cotton
wool. There was no advance dressing station
ahead. The boys came back with just field
dressings on their wounds in their torn and
bloody uniforms, unwashed for many days
and then if they had the good fortune to have
a sponge, their intense gratitude and ‘Gee oh
Sister, that’s great’ and ‘Fancy seeing an
Aussie girl too!’ and my dear their sigh of
relief to have their boots taken off after being
on for weeks—Sophie dear some of those
lads were so badly knocked about, such
awful wounds and they were all so brave.
I thanked God many times for the privilege of being born an Australian. They had such guts—they could always see another
lad who was worse than they themselves—and then my dear the awful sensation of helplessness, that awful hopelessness
when evacuation was imminent—we nurses were put on trucks and sent off down to the water front—matron and about
25 other Sisters were on a truck ahead of us. They were boarded on a hospital ship but we arrived at the docks in the midst
of an air raid, and as the ’planes were dive bombing the harbour they cut the ships ropes and away she went leaving the
remainder of us on shore. We returned to our former hospital and attempted to carry on—the casualties still pouring in
every hour of every day.
We breakfasted on the roadside on tinned bully beef & dry biscuits with no cutlery, just our fingers. We had nothing to drink,
only the water in our water bottles—and then on again—enemy planes overhead. The convoy stopped. We left our trucks
and scattered running for cover into barley fields, lying face downwards hugging mother earth and wishing our tin hats were
somewhat bigger to cover more of us. We spent all the day there. There was a small cemetery nearby and we camped
among the headstones all day. It really was amazing to see the girls, and the boys too, lying flat down on their faces as the
planes flew over us machine gunning on & off all day—between while we ate still iron rations but we boiled our billy on the
tomb stones and had a cup of tea.
During the morning the guns brought down one plane and the noise was deafening – but my dear, they delivered us safely
and then we worked again on the island amongst our evacuated casualties until we were again, after about four days, sent
on to Alexandria.
Sylvia Duke returned to Australia and married an Army officer before moving to Victoria.
Material supplied by Sophie Healy of New South Wales.
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oems about Tobruk
‘This place they call Tobruk’
There’s places that I’ve been in
I didn’t like too well,
Now England’s far too blooming cold
And Winton’s hot as hell;
The Walgett beer is always warm
In each there’s something crook
But each and all are perfect to
This place they call TOBRUK.
I’ve seen some dust storms back at home
That made the house wives work
Here there’s enough inside our shirts
To smother all of Bourke.
Two diggers cleaned their dug out
And their blankets out they shook
Two Colonels perished in the dust
In this place they call TOBRUK.
There’s centipedes like pythons
And there’s countless hordes of fleas,
As big as poodle dogs they come
A snapping round your knees,
And scorpions large as AFVs
Come out to have a look,
There’s surely lots of livestock in
The shelling’s nice and frequent
And they whistle overhead
You go into your dugout
And find shrapnel in your bed
And when the Stukas dive on us
We never pause to look
We’re down our holes like rabbits in
Sometimes we go in swimming
And float about at ease
The water clear as crystal
And a nice clean salty breeze
When down comes blasted Hermann
And we have to sling our hook
We dive clean to the bottom in
‘A Night in the Desert’
To My Mother
I’m lonely tonight in the desert
In vain have I tried to sleep
The stars that shine above me
Their silent watches keep.
And it’s peaceful here in the desert
With the enemy guns so still
And I think of a world gone crazy
By a mad dictator’s will.
Now the siren shrieks a warning
And planes swoop overhead
We scramble into our dugouts
And hug the earth’s cold bed.
Our guns go into action
And searchlights rake the sky
And with bating breath I gaze on
death
As I see a comrade die.
The bombs rain down with a
piercing scream
And burst with a deafening roar.
I realise this is no dream
And I curse this bloody war.
I silently murmur a fervent prayer
As I kneel by the side of my pal
I think of his dear old mother
His sister or maybe a gal.
He gave up his all for his country
So carefree young and gay
And here in this lonely desert
His dear life he had to pay.
George Rudge
But his name will go down in
history
On the scroll of honour at home
And his soul will live forever
In a hero’s sacred dome.
Now the sky is clear again
And the stars their watches keep,
As we crawl back into our dugouts
And in vain we try to sleep.
High in a tower of stillness
Night spreads a jewelled hand
And I earnestly yearn for my return
To my Mother and Aussie land.
George Rudge
Sapper NX21592
I really do not think this place
Was meant for me and you
Let’s return it to the Arab
And he knows what he can do
We’ll leave the God forbidden place
Without one backward look
We’ve called it lots of other names
Victor Wright
with the writer’s compliments
H.B. Paterson
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xtracts from letters written by David Davis
about his war experience in Australia
Sgt David Davis, a radio mechanic, had been re-trained as a radar
mechanic due to a shortage of technicians, and was posted to Birdum
near Darwin. He made the trip from Spencer Street railway station to the
Northern Territory in the mid-summer heat of December 1942, along with
200 other RAAF men and 200 AIF.
We sight our first skeleton. Strange as it seems on the side of the line there are
strips of the greenest grass you ever saw. Indications of a storm that broke over
this area a week ago. The drovers avail themselves of these strips for nourishment
of sheep. As far as the eye can see is
gravel, sand, saltbush, mulga and utter
desolation. For distraction in the distant
horizon is the will-o-the-wisp mirage
which were I suffering any privation would
scornfully beckon at me.
At long last we come upon a man with
two horses who is turning up the land. It
seems all wrong for how can life prevail in
this wilderness. A puny man, his horses,
and the frail mechanism—a plough that
can but only scratch on this surface even
while the furrow dries underfoot.
When they finally reached the military
camp just outside Alice Springs a
week after leaving Spencer Street, the
showers were barely working.
We wash as best we can. Our seats
David Davis
were booked in one of the two theatres
here. It does seem funny to pay 9d
entertainment tax. Don Ameche in
‘Down Argentine Way’. The theatre was open and surrounded by a concrete whitewashed wall about 6 feet high.
They left Alice Springs by truck, part of a large convoy and the fourth last truck
which had a top speed of 20 mph [32 kph].
They spent the night at Banks, sleeping out and plagued by ants and
mosquitoes, rising at 3 am to set off again, eventually reaching Birdum.
As hot as hell with flies that bit and drew blood and water was unpalatable.
Sgt Davis spent the next 15 months at Birdum with 105 Radar Station. The
threat of Japanese air attacks was continuous.
The searchlights have picked up the raider. We hear our night fighters droning
overhead as they gain altitude. Near to moon is white condensation from aircraft
props. It now becomes film and disappears. The searchlights hold the Jap in their
beams. The hostile aircraft is surrounded by red flashes and a time elapses before we
hear the crack of ack-ack. They drop no bombs and sheer off to sea. We all go back
to routine boredom.
Scenes from Northern Australia
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eminiscences of Squadron Leader Frank Slade
of his war experience in the RAAF
This announcement in The London Gazette on 11 February 1944 is a typical description of an event for which a RAAF pilot
received an award for bravery.
One night in December 1943, this officer [Acting Flight Lieutenant Herbert Frank Slade RAAF of No 156 Squadron]
captained an aircraft detailed to attack Berlin. When nearing the target his aircraft was hit by anti-aircraft fire but,
although his aircraft sustained much damage, Flight Lieutenant Slade completed his attack and bombed the target
with great accuracy. His effort was typical of the determination he has always displayed. He has completed very many
sorties and has achieved much success.
But what is the story behind such a description? This description of a different but similar raid involving the same person can
help us understand.
Squadron Leader Frank Slade of the RAAF had made many raids on German targets during World War II so another trip to
Hamburg on 28 July 1944 was just another day at the office. This time, however, things became a little more hairy for him and
his crew. As they were on the approach run to release their bombs their Lancaster was badly hit by flak which damaged a
large section of the port wing.
Despite this set back, Squadron Leader Slade kept flying on course and their bombs were released over the target. Then the
fun started. An inspection of the wing showed a huge section torn back and sticking up in the air, slowing the aircraft and
affecting its performance.
As they approached the coast, the bomber was forced to evade enemy flak again as best it could. As Slade threw the
Lancaster around the sky, the torn piece of wing finally broke away giving the pilot better control of his aircraft.
But he then found that several of the bombs on the plane had not been released—and were still live. Unwilling to try a manual
release of the bombs because it would have meant flying with the bomb doors open, causing too much loss of height, they
continued to limp for home.
Finally they made it back to England but as they approached home base to touch down, the drama continued. A tyre, which
had been damaged by flak, burst on landing causing the port wing to drop. The port leg collapsed, the wing dug into the
ground swinging the plane onto its other leg which also collapsed under the strain.
The Lancaster skidded off the runway on its belly for about 150 yards [117 metres] before grinding to a halt. The crew could
hardly believe their luck as they climbed unsteadily out of the Lancaster. Thankfully the bombs in the aircraft remained intact
and the crash party and fire tender were not needed.
Squadron Leader Slade said afterwards the success of the mission had been due to the fine crew cooperation throughout
the trip.
Squadron Leader Slade was awarded the Distinguished Service Order (DSO) to go with the Distinguished Flying
Cross (DFC) he had earned the previous year.
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eminiscences of John Quinn, RAN, about his service on
merchant ships carrying people and supplies in war zones
In company with the Strathaird,
Nevassa, Neuralia and Ettrick, we
loaded Australian troops for the Middle
East. We were escorted by British
battleship HMS Ramillies and various
cruiser escorts. We called at Perth,
Colombo, Aden, Suez, entered the
Suez Canal and disembarked the troops
at El Kantara. We then proceeded to
Port Said, then through the
Mediterranean Sea to Gibraltar.
We were ordered to Dakar in French
Senegal and sailed to that port where
we loaded black Senegalese troops for
Casablanca. We then sailed for Dakar
and Konakry in French Guinea.
When we were off Casablanca we
received news that France had fallen
and the British Army was in full retreat.
We were ordered to proceed to
Casablanca and disembark the
Senegalese troops. We arrived in
Gibraltar and were directed to load
about 2800 refugees, troops, men,
women and children who had escaped
from Southern France.
We sailed in convoy escorted by a
couple of armed trawlers and headed
for England. We were Commodore Ship
and one morning an escort vessel came
alongside us and advised that we had
lost five ships of the convoy during the
night.
We next loaded about 2600 internees
John Quinn
and prisoners of war for Australia. Among
these people were 500 who were
survivors from the Arandora Star
torpedoed in the North Atlantic. This ship had been on her way to Canada loaded with German and Italian prisoners. Our prisoners
were housed in the troop decks with barbed wire across the entrances to these decks and with British soldiers as guards.
We sailed from Liverpool with another ship, which was loaded with children for Canada, and a destroyer escort. We ran into a
severe storm off the north coast of Ireland. After a day or two our escort and the other ship parted from us and headed for
Canada.
A day or two later we all heard loud explosions. The ship shuddered and seemed to heel over. We all thought this is it. We
manned the guns but could not see anything due to the heavy seas. The prisoners panicked and the weight of numbers
pushing against the barbed wire barricades pushed them aside. Soldiers fired over their heads and moved in with fixed
bayonets shouting to them that the ship was not sinking. A submarine had fired two torpedos at us.
When we arrived in Sydney I was drafted to the Reynella which was a captured Italian ship. She was old and slow. We did a
couple of voyages to Colombo and Bombay carrying passengers and cargo. Always sailing alone.
The material for this article was supplied by John Quinn of New South Wales.
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eminiscences of Claude Palmer about service in
the Vietnam War
Units of the Royal Australian
Electrical and Mechanical Engineers
(RAEME) have served Australia well
in many conflicts and Vietnam was
no exception. Their skill and
dedication to keeping essential
equipment repaired and in good
working order have been well
documented. While the first priority
in Vietnam was fighting the war, an
essential element of Australian
operations was the winning of hearts
and minds of the local Vietnamese.
So members of 106 Field Workshop
readily adopted the Ba Ria
Orphanage and, later, the Long Tan
primary school. There were regular
runs with ‘surplus’ rations, sweets,
building repairs, well cleaning, and
even playground equipment.
Members of a 106 Field Workshop patrol in 1969.
Following concern about casualties
being caused by vehicles hitting mines,106 Field Workshop was asked to design and construct armour kits for the APCs.
After a number of trials using Viet Cong mines and damaged APCs, the modification was approved.
In 1977, Claude was in Sydney when a young man rushed up to him. ‘I know you—your unit designed that anti-mine kit that
was fitted to my APC in Vietnam,’ the young man said. He then shook Claude’s hand firmly, saying, ‘I’ve wanted to thank you
personally for years. Soon after your boys re-armoured my APC, it hit a mine. Thanks to your work, my mates and I survived
in one piece.’
Officially unacknowledged though it may be, Diggers of the first and second AIF were known to creatively interpret regulations
to achieve what had to be achieved. Following in the great tradition, men of 106 did likewise, and to this day, no one will
reveal the true identity of a certain Sergeant E. Kelly whose signature is said to have appeared on certain requisitions at the
US Depot at Long Binh.
Claude was full of praise for the work of voluntary organisations such as the Salvation Army. ‘Australian forces are fortunate in
always having the Salvation Army and/or Everyman Organisation representatives. These courageous philanthropic souls
provide welfare and spiritual advice, cold drinks, hot beverages, and biscuits to troops in action – sometimes literally.’ ‘The
local “Sally” as he was affectionately known,
had a rather battered Land Rover. When he
was due to return to Australia for his wellearned week of R&R, he asked if 106 could
perform an oil change on his vehicle while he
was away. The men of vehicle and general
engineering platoons voluntarily completely
rebuilt and repainted the vehicle so well that
when he returned, the owner could not
recognise his Land Rover which was waiting
for him at the airstrip.’
Material taken from
www.australiansatwar.gov.au—‘The Great Search’
106 erecting playground equipment at Long Tan School.
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xtracts from an unofficial letter of ‘warning’ from
Vietnam sent to families of soldiers about to return home
This is to inform you that as of …………………………. 196 , a certain mudhound water-soaked and slightly crazy
individual known as …………….. is leaving our little City of ………………… securely nestled among the jungles and
rice paddies, located in the Southern part of a semi-tropic country in the Far East known as The Republic of Vietnam.
b. Be he husband, sweetheart, friend, son or brother to you he is still yours.
c. He may look a little strange and act a little peculiar, but this is to be expected, after …. Months in VIETNAM. He will
gaze in awe and fascination at blonde hair, trams, blue eyes, clean sheets, hotels, and tight sweaters. Remember,
that his only contact with white women has been via the centre pages of Playboy magazines, and he will probably
think that all girls have staple marks on their stomachs. If you wish to disillusion him, do so gently.
e. Neglect to say-anything about etherised eggs, ‘C’ rations, spare ribs, dehydrated potatoes, weenies, fried rice,
fresh milk and ice cream, and above all do not mention or even hint at the subject of fresh bread or Aussie tea.
g. If he walks across the garden and climbs through the window, humor him, he doesn’t trust the path - it may be
mined.
h. Flushing toilets will be a source of constant wonder to him; after he overcomes the initial fear of them. If he grabs a
shovel and heads for the back garden merely direct him to the nearest correct room and gently take the shovel
from him.
j. ABOVE ALL - do not ask him, ‘How was the mail over there?’ as he is liable to get violent and go into convulsions.
m. ENCOURAGE him to drink out of a glass. If you give him a CAN he will drink it certainly, but he may then fling it
over his shoulder with a roar of ‘UP THE OLD RED ROOSTER’ and the furniture will suffer.
n. FORCE of habit may cause him to do some apparently odd things - sleep with his boots on - shower in public swear fondly at his closest friends - grind his cigarette into the carpet. He will constantly look at trees, not for their
beauty but because he suspects a sniper. He will distrust bus stops because they have an unpleasant association
with grenades, and if a litter bug throws something from a passing car - he will scream loudly and dive for the
gutter. This can be amusing and endear him to passersby.
p. If he happens to be driving as a postman blows his whistle, hang on, for you can expect a very sudden stop; in
Vietnam the second blast of the whistle is followed by bullets.
r. When crossing the street take care of him as he has become impartial, indifferent, and completely oblivious to car
horns, cycles, pedi-cabs, bicycles, water buffaloes, horse and carts, bullock drawn wagons and other such things
that are found on the streets of BIEN HOA, BARIA, SAIGON and VUNG TAU.
u. Remember that beneath that rough, water soaked, weather beaten and dishevelled exterior, beats a heart of gold,
sweet, pure, though a little wet.
v. He may not look or act like it, but he is your very own. Just allow him a few years to get used to being back in
civilization again.
x. Do not send any letters or parcels after …………….. as this crazy looking, bloody-eyed, mud-splattered, damp,
lonely, dishevelled and idiotic so called soldier is on his way back to you.
Good Luck. You’ll need it.
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xtracts from letters written by Guy Watkins
about his war experience in Vietnam
When Private Guy Watkins was wounded in Vietnam, the local paper in
Tasmania reported he had been shot by a Viet Cong. A telegram to the Private
Watkins’ father in Tasmania gave details of his condition.
‘It is learned with regret that your son Private Guy William Watkins was placed on
the seriously ill list at 8 Field Ambulance, Vung Tau Vietnam on 11 November 1967
as a result of gunshot wounds causing compound fracture to left knee popliteal
artery and vein STOP A progress report will be sent to you at regular intervals but
if a change of condition occurs you will be notified immediately STOP’
A second telegram three days later advised Private Watkins had been taken off
the seriously ill list and was progressing satisfactorily. In the meantime, Private
Watkins wrote to his father giving details of the incident.
The first couple of days we were out on the operation we set an awful ambush. We
had been there about two and a half days, when three rounds from an automatic
weapon spattered in to about half an inch from where I was sitting.
Guy Watkins
Apparently he had heard us in the ambush and sneaked round behind us. We never got him. That was our first contact with a
VC.
Then we had a contact with a VC a couple of days later. This bloke ran into an old hut near a river. We opened fire on it.
When we went and had a look in the hut there was a VC family in there. The father had been shot four times. He died before
he reached hospital. There was a little girl and boy lying dead on the floor. The mother had her right leg blown off. The VC
must be mad to have their families with them, because they always get shot.
Then he came to say how he had been shot.
I suppose they told you in the message that I was shot by one of our own blokes. I was out as sentry in front of the gun. I
checked my rifle to see if I had a round in the breech and one of the other sentries on the left flank shot. I stood up just before
he fired the shot. Just as well or I would have copped it in the back.
From the time I was shot till the time I reached hospital was about three-quarters of an hour. My leg was cut about pretty bad.
The bullet went through the
back of the leg and as it
came out just below the knee
cap, it cut the artery and
vein. It was touch and go
whether they would have to
amputate it. It still aches a bit
and is stiff. The doctor who
fixed it knew what he was
doing.
Following his return to
Australia, Private Watkins
eventually had to have his
right leg amputated above
the knee as a result of the
injury.
Material taken from
www.australiansatwar.gov.au—
Group photograph taken at training at Bulli early 1967 before leaving for Vietnam.
Private Guy Watkins is second from left in the front row.
AUSTRALIANS AT WAR
59
60
AUSTRALIANS AT WAR
Australians at War
Unit 3
IMAGES OF WAR
AUSTRALIANS AT WAR
61
TO THE
TEACHER
Overview
This unit looks at the way wars and conflicts can be represented in history.
Representations of war may be personal stories, official histories, paintings, photographs, film, letters and diaries, statues and
memorials.
All of them include words and/or images that people have created according to their own ideas, experiences and values, and which
are then presented to an audience.
Focus questions
In this unit the key investigations or focus questions are:
• How has war been represented by some artists over time?
• How does this affect their reliability as evidence?
Key learning outcomes
A study of this unit will help students:
• understand that images of war are representations chosen by a person
• develop their ability to critically analyse and evaluate representations
• critically analyse a number of images to understand how they have been created
• reflect on a variety of different interpretations of events
Suggested classroom activities
There are six possible activities in this unit. Students can choose one or more of these case studies:
• analyse the Gallipoli landing sequence in the television series Australians at War
• compare representations of soldiers on the Western Front in World War I in the drawings of Will Dyson and Bruce Bairnsfather
• analyse the composite photographs of Frank Hurley in World War I
• compare several representations of the same event (the film of Damien Parer, a still from that film, the painting of Ivor Hele) in
World War II
• analyse the painting of Long Tan in the Vietnam War, and compare it to a variety of other accounts
• compare the responses of war artists Rick Amor and Wendy Sharpe to the conflict in East Timor
It is expected that teachers will want to concentrate on those that apply to the particular war they are focusing on within their
curriculum area.
It is suggested that whatever the particular war being studied, students should do the introductory exercises first. They are simple
but effective ways of raising issues about images, representation, context and meanings.
The Gallipoli exercise is a good one to help students look critically at the television series. It is not only a source of information and
ideas about the Australian soldiers’ experience, but also a way into critically analysing the video as a set of representations of
history.
If asking students to look at several of the case studies, teachers could distribute them between groups, with each group
presenting a summary and discussion to the rest of the class.
At the end of the exercises, students can look for representations in their own community—such as memorials, statues, plaques
and artwork.
62
AUSTRALIANS AT WAR
Australians at War
Unit 3
IMAGES OF WAR
Student Activity Pages
AUSTRALIANS AT WAR
63
W
UNIT
3
Student Activity
1A
Images of War
hat are ‘representations’ of history?
Everything we know about war comes from ‘representations’ of it. A ‘representation’ simply means the way it is presented to
us by the person who created it.
You may think that some information about war is factual, and there cannot be any manipulation or distortion. That is true—
there are facts, but it is the way those facts are presented, the context they are presented in, and the facts or information that
might not be presented that can result in us being influenced in certain ways. There are no neutral accounts of wars—they are
all somebody’s choice, somebody’s versions of what has happened.
Representations of war can include personal stories, official histories, paintings, photographs, film, letters and diaries, statues
and memorials.
All of these representations include words and/or images that people have created according to their own ideas, experiences
and values, and which are then presented to an audience.
Focus questions
In this unit the key investigations or focus questions are:
• How has war been represented in different media over time?
• How does this affect their reliability as evidence?
To understand what is meant by a ‘representation’, look at the two songs from World War I on Resource Page 1.
1
Select one, and read the words carefully.
2
If you ONLY had this song as information about the war, list the conclusions you could draw about:
• the nature of the war
• the attitudes of the soldiers?
3
Then look at the other song, and do the same.
Each was written during and about World War I—but they use very different language, have very different tones, and give very
different impressions of the war. Each is a representation of the war—that is, somebody’s version or account of the war.
4
Decide which of these words would be most appropriate for each song:
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
64
accepting
angry
bitter
detailed
disillusioned
happy
light-hearted
mocking
realistic
resigned
vague
5
Suggest some reasons why the two songs are so different.
6
What would you need to know about each song to decide on its value as evidence of soldiers’ attitudes about the war?
AUSTRALIANS AT WAR
W
UNIT
3
Student Activity
1B
Images of War
hat are ‘representations’ of history?
Pack up your troubles
Pack up your troubles in your old kit bag and smile, smile, smile.
While you’ve a lucifer* to light your fag,
Smile boys, that’s the style.
What’s the use of worrying, it never was worthwhile.
So, pack up your troubles in your old kit bag and smile, smile, smile.
[* lucifer = match]
The Lousy Lance Corporal on the Headquarters Staff
He went up to London and straight away strode
To Army Headquarters on Horseferry Road
To see all the bludgers who dodge all the strafe
By getting soft jobs on the headquarters staff.
Dinky di, dinki di,
By getting soft jobs on the headquarters staff
The lousy Lance Corporal said ‘Pardon me please,
You’ve mud on your tunic, and blood on your sleeve,
You look so disgraceful that people will laugh’,
Said the lousy Lance Corporal on the headquarters staff.
Dinky di, … etc.
The Digger just shot him a murderous glance;
He said ‘We’re just back from the balls-up in France,
Where whiz bangs are flying and comforts are few,
And brave men are dying for bastards like you.’
Dinky di etc.
‘We’re shelled on the left and we’re shelled on the right,
We’re bombed all the day and we’re bombed all the night,
If something don’t happen, and that mighty soon,
There’ll be nobody left in the bloody platoon.’
Dinky di, etc.
The story soon got to the ears of Lord Gort,
Who gave the whole matter a great deal of thought.
He awarded the Digger a V.C. and two bars,
And gave the Lance Corporal a kick up the arse.
Dinky Di, etc.
AUSTRALIANS AT WAR
65
A
UNIT
3
Student Activity
2
Images of War
nalysing the Gallipoli landing sequence in
Australians at War
Episode 2 of the series Australians at War includes a sequence showing the landing at Gallipoli by the Anzacs on
25 April 1915. This sequence has been included in the video with this resource.
1
Watch this sequence, and discuss your overall reaction to it with your group or class.
The sequence does not include any actual film footage of the landing – there were no cine-cameras there. The sequence
creates an impression that this is a record of the event, but it is a representation created by the film director. He has done
this by his use of a variety of elements in the film.
2
Look at the sequence again and identify at least one example of each of the different types of material or approaches
listed here:
Type of material used
Description of an example
How you can identify it
Apparently authentic historical footage
from Gallipoli
Filmed reconstructions of the events
Modern film footage shot for the
video series
Still photographs
Places where sound effects have
been used
The use of a musical score
The use of a modern narration
Modern actors reading historic
documents
Examples of editing techniques to
achieve special effects or impacts
3
Explain how you have been able to distinguish between the different types of film footage (1–3 above). You might
consider such things as colour or black and white footage, camera angles, styles, etc.
4
Discuss whether you think the Gallipoli landing sequence is an accurate and effective representation of history.
5
Imagine that you have been asked to create a similar sequence on the landing, but from the Turkish point of view.
Prepare a storyboard of about 9–12 frames which sets out the sequence of steps in the film. Explain the film story-telling
techniques you would use at each stage.
You can find a lot more information about Gallipoli on the Visit Gallipoli website www.anzacsite.gov.au
66
AUSTRALIANS AT WAR
C
UNIT
3
Student Activity
3A
Images of War
omparing the drawings of Will Dyson and
Bruce Bairnsfather in World War I
Episodes 3 and 8 of Australians at War show many of the sketches of Australian troops at war made by Will Dyson
during World War I. Some are included in the video in this resource.
Another artist who made sketches of troops during this war was Bruce Bairnsfather, who drew cartoons featuring his
creation, the British soldier ‘Old Bill’.
Both artists depict aspects of life on the Western Front. Look at the sketches of war by Dyson and Bairnsfather on
the following pages.
1
Compare these aspects of the two approaches:
Aspect
Dyson
Bairnsfather
Subjects of the drawings
What war conditions were like
Image of the soldiers presented
Qualities of the soldiers suggested
Attitudes or feelings of the soldiers to
the war
The style or tone of the drawings
‘Messages’ of the drawings
Intended audience
Your overall impression – what can we
learn from these about the soldiers’
experience of trench warfare?
2
Why do you think two men who were in substantially the same situation produced such different representations of
the war?
AUSTRALIANS AT WAR
67
C
3
Student Activity
3B
Images of War
AWM 02245
AWM 002303
68
UNIT
AUSTRALIANS AT WAR
UNIT
Student Activity
C
3
Images of War
3C
Bairnsfather, A Few Fragments From His Life, Hodder and Stoughton, London, n.d. pages 69, 75, 83.
AUSTRALIANS AT WAR
69
A
UNIT
3
Student Activity
4A
Images of War
nalysing the photographs of Frank Hurley in
World War I
Some of the most famous representations of Australians at war in World War I are the photographs by Frank Hurley.
1
Look at this famous image of the war. Describe:
• what you learn about the war from it
• your reactions to it
AWM E 05988A
2
Describe the difficulties a war photographer might have in trying to capture an image like this.
3
This image is in fact not an individual photograph of action, but a composite—a blend of several photographs into one.
Look at the photograph included with Student Activity 4B. It was also taken by Hurley. Explain how Hurley has used it in
creating the image above.
70
4
How many other photographs do you think Hurley would have used to create the original image?
5
Why do you think Hurley did this?
6
Do you think this creates an effective image, or one that is essentially a ‘lie’ about the war?
AUSTRALIANS AT WAR
A
UNIT
3
Student Activity
4B
Images of War
nalysing the photographs of Frank Hurley in
World War I
AWM E5429
Now look at how Hurley justified this manipulation of images:
I have tried, and tried again, to include events on a single negative, but the results have been hopeless. Everything is
on such a wide scale … Figures scattered, atmosphere dense with haze and smoke – shells that simply would not
burst when required. All the elements of a picture were there, could they but be brought together and condensed.
The battle is in full swing, the men are going over the top – I snap. A fleet of bombing planes is flying low, there is a
barrage bursting all around. But on developing my plates there is disappointment. All I find is a record of a few figures
advancing from the trenches and a background of haze …
Quoted in Lennard Bickel, In Search of Frank Hurley, Macmillan, Melbourne, 1980, page 61.
Hurley’s composite photographs were not accepted by the official historian, CEW Bean, who was collecting images of the
war for publication. His attitude was that he had to record “the plain and absolute truth”, and this included absolute accuracy
in photographs:
The photographs of the Australian Imperial Force are, as far as possible, scrupulously genuine. Wherever it was
possible, particulars as to place, time, and nearest troops were noted when the photograph was taken … The
Australian official photographers, inasmuch as they maintained such accuracy as the ideal of their service to their
country, played their part as Australian soldiers. The pictures printed here have not been retouched in any way
except to remedy scratches or other obvious flaws in the negatives …
Preface by CEW Bean to Photographic Record of the War, Angus and Robertson, Sydney, 1937, page viii.
7
Role play a conversation between these two men, as each tries to get the other to accept his point of view.
8
Imagine that you want to use one of these composite photographs in a student history text about the war. How would
you caption it? (These images are often used—look and see how they have been captioned in various texts.)
9
Many images in newspapers today are digitally enhanced. Do you think newspapers which use digitally-enhanced
images have any obligation to indicate this to readers? Explain your reasons.
AUSTRALIANS AT WAR
71
C
UNIT
3
Student Activity
5A
Images of War
omparing different representations of the
same event in World War II
In 1943 three Australian soldiers were killed in an action at a place called Timbered Knoll in New Guinea.
There are three visual images or representations of their burial:
• film footage shot by Damien Parer (see the video in this Education Resource);
• a painting of the scene by war artist Ivor Hele (reproduced below)
• a still photograph of that scene taken from Parer’s film (reproduced on page 73)
1
Look at the three accounts. (Watch the video version without the sound, as this is how it would have been shot by the
cameraman.)
For each describe
What it shows
What selection of images
is made
Who is in it
The background
The message or meaning
being presented
Your reaction to it
AWM ART 22560
72
AUSTRALIANS AT WAR
Parer film
Parer still
Hele painting
C
UNIT
3
Student Activity
5B
Images of War
omparing different representations of the
same event in World War II
AWM 127986
2
Which do you think is the most effective representation of the event? Explain why.
Look at this additional information.
The contrast between Hele’s treatment of the burial of the [soldiers] and Parer’s is acute. Hele drew the actual burial …
Parer filmed the ceremony only. Parer’s diary:
Father English came over this morning to bless the graves of Bonny Muir, Buck and Hooksie. It was raining, the mist
was moving slowly over the mountains. Slowly the boys took off their hats and bowed their heads as the Burial Service
started. Hard fight, tired men, wet capes. They prayed with true sincerity for their fallen comrades. It was the most
moving ceremony I have seen, not a man looked at the camera.
According to John Lewin [one of the soldiers there] this was the first and only time such a service was held. Clearly this
ceremony, although absolutely sincere, was held for Parer’s benefit. It was also a risky venture. John Lewin:
We all wanted to pay our respects to our fallen comrades but any group like that was the answer to a machine gunner’s
prayer. The rifles you see there are all loaded and I was darting around outside the group watching for snipers. I only
joined the party at the graveside at the last minute.
Within weeks four of the men at the graveside had been killed in action. It would be absurd to blame Parer for this selfcensorship as it would be to criticise Ivor Hele for insensitivity. Hele knew he could rely on John Treloar who controlled
the war artists to withhold any sensitive material … [whereas Parer knew that there was heavy censorship of images of
Australian dead by authorities in Australia].
Neil McDonald and Peter Brune, 200 Shots. Damien Parer, George Silk and the Australians in New Guinea, Allen & Unwin,
Sydney, 1998 Pages 191–195.
3
Does this knowledge of the context change your reaction or attitude to either of these representations? Explain your reasons.
AUSTRALIANS AT WAR
73
R
UNIT
3
Student Activity
6A
Images of War
epresenting the Battle of Long Tan in the
Vietnam War
On 18 August 1966 just over 100 men of D Company 6 RAR of the Australian Army fought an unknown number of Viet
Cong and North Vietnamese troops at Long Tan, near the Australian base at Nui Dat, South Vietnam.
1
Look at this painting of the event. If this were the only information you had about the event, what could you say about:
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
the terrain
the weather
the nature of the fighting
the qualities of the Australians
the attitudes, feelings and emotions of the Australians involved
the numbers of people involved
the enemy
the outcome of the battle
the reasons for that outcome
the messages or ideas in the painting
your impression of or reaction to it
AWM ART 40758
74
AUSTRALIANS AT WAR
R
UNIT
3
Student Activity
6B
Images of War
Vietnam War
2
Now look at this other evidence, and use it to test the accuracy or otherwise of the painting.
Source 1
A summary of the event
On 18 August 1966 a small group of Australian infantrymen—just over 100 men of D Company, Sixth Battalion of the
Royal Australian Regiment (6RAR)—fought with a much larger group of North Vietnamese and Viet Cong troops, perhaps
up to 1000 or 1500 strong, though nobody is sure.
Eighteen Australians were killed in the battle, 23 were wounded, and a much larger number of Vietnamese—officially 245
dead—were counted, though the Vietnamese deny this figure.
The battle began at 3.40 in the afternoon in a rubber plantation near the Australian camp at Nui Dat, and continued
during torrential rain until dark. Armoured personnel carriers arrived and broke through the enemy just as they were
poised to surround and probably destroy all the Australian ground troops.
During the night the Vietnamese cleared many of their wounded and dead from the battle field. A number of the
wounded Australians lay there all through the long terrifying night, as the Vietnamese moved around them.
Based on information on the Australian War Memorial site www.awm.gov.au
Source 2
Jim Richmond recalls the battle
‘We had been following blood trails … when they opened up on us. I couldn’t believe the fire power, the amount that
was coming in.
‘There was just the continuous noise of firing and the chunks being chopped out of the rubber trees and the sound of
Viet Cong bugles1. I saw tracers2 coming out of trees on the left so I called out and two of us fired and two or three of
them fell out. That was the first time I saw Viet Cong.
‘Not long after that, a lot of us were dead. Doug was dead and I saw Shorty cop it. Then Mitch and Glen. Out of the
corner of my eye I saw a Viet Cong with a rifle. I ducked my head behind my pack and the bullet went into it. I took out a
grenade and pulled the pin3. I don’t know what I was going to do next but then I didn’t have a choice. I was hit in the
back by shrapnel from one of our artillery rounds.
‘When I first got hit there was no pain at all, but I thought I was dead because there was no feeling from the chest down.
I thought that the rest of my body had been blown away and that if I turned and looked over my shoulder there would be
nothing left.
‘I didn’t pass out straight away and when I did, I don’t know how long I was out for. I had no concept of time, but I was
conscious most of the night. Our artillery kept pounding for hours. Some went overhead and some went really close. I
got to know which ones meant trouble and I thought I would eventually be hit.’
It was a long night … with Viet Cong at times moving around him. And a long morning … ‘By morning I was pretty weak.
I had no water left and I thought I would die of thirst if nothing else … I finally heard [Sergeant] Bob Buick’s voice. I yelled
out and he came over. If he wasn’t so bloody ugly I probably would have kissed him.’
Extracts from Cameron Forbes, The Weekend Australian, 17 August 1996 and Mark Baker, Sydney Morning Herald, 17 August 1996.
1 The Vietnamese troops used bugles to communicate orders during battle.
2 Tracers are bullets which include phosphorous so that they make a line of light as they are firing, allowing the soldier to see
where the bullet is going.
3 A hand grenade has a pin which attaches a lever to the body of the grenade. Once the pin is removed, the lever flies off
(unless it is held to the body of the grenade by the thrower), and this arms the grenade. Once the lever is detached, the
grenade will explode within a few seconds.
AUSTRALIANS AT WAR
75
UNIT
Student Activity
R
3
Images of War
6C
Vietnam War
Source 3
Vic Grice recalls the battle
Vic Grice was in front of me and he got shot, and I said to someone, ‘What happened to Vic?’ and I don’t know who it
was said, ‘He’s dead.’ About ten or twenty metres after that I got shot in the leg and went down … It was getting fairly
dark, so I kept on crawling. There was enemy movement about and I saw about six or eight VC moving back through the
area where we’d come. About this time I looked up and there was a Viet Cong standing over me with a grenade in his
hand but no rifle. I didn’t know what to do so I just screamed at him to piss off. I think he got a bigger fright than I did,
because he just ran off to the east. I found a dead Viet Cong and I pulled his gear apart and found a ground sheet, so
took this with me, and looked around for some place to settle in for the night.
Barry Meller in Terry Burstall, The Soldiers’ Story, University of Queensland Press, Brisbane, 1986, pp. 84-85
Source 5
An illustration of the battle
Harry Clow by kind permission of Marshall Editions
1
2
4
3
5
By early evening, 11 Platoon (3) was pinned down in mud created by
driving torrential rain. Waves of VC (4 and 5) tried to outflank the
Australians, who also had to contend with enemy snipers (1) who were
concealed in the rubber trees.
About 100 metres to the north of 11 Platoon, the men of 10 Platoon (2)
also came under enemy fire and were unable to come to the rescue of
their comrades. However, the Australians’ precarious position was
strengthened by 105mm artillery pieces back at Nui Dat, whose shells
exploded with bright blue flashes of light among the attacking VC.
John Pimlott, Vietnam; The Decisive Battles, Macmillan Publishing Company, New York, 1990
76
3
After having looked at this other evidence, decide whether you think this is a good representation of the Battle of
Long Tan? Explain your reasons.
4
Imagine that you have been asked to write the caption to go with this illustration in a history textbook for students.
What do you write?
AUSTRALIANS AT WAR
C
UNIT
3
Student Activity
7A
Images of War
omparing war artists’ representations
of East Timor
Australia’s most recent armed conflict has been in East Timor (from 1999).
1
Imagine that you are being sent to record Australian experience in East Timor.
What do you think is your purpose? To record? To analyse? To interpret? To empathise? To shock? To educate?
List the things that you might look for, and consider showing, in your art.
2
Now look at the images presented on the next pages by two different war artists, and compare them, using the headings
below to guide you.
Aspect
Amor
AWM P03184.093
Sharpe
AWM P03248.006
Subjects of the drawings
Image of the soldiers
Qualities of the soldiers
Attitudes of the soldiers to the war
‘Messages’ of the drawings
Intended audience
Your overall impression—what can we
learn from these about the soldiers’
experience of warfare?
AUSTRALIANS AT WAR
77
C
UNIT
3
Student Activity
7B
of East Timor
Paintings by Rick Amor
Rural Destruction
AWM 91105
Urban Destruction
AWM 91106
Tent Life
AWM 91052
Woman and Child
AWM 91096
78
AUSTRALIANS AT WAR
Images of War
UNIT
Student Activity
C
3
Images of War
7C
of East Timor
Paintings by Wendy Sharpe
Soldier With Refugees
AWM 91161
On Patrol
AWM 91163
Christmas Tour of Duty Concert
AWM 91182
Midnight at Suai Cathedral
AWM 91178
Girls in Suai
AWM 91141
AUSTRALIANS AT WAR
79
80
AUSTRALIANS AT WAR

E xtracts from a letter written by Lt William Britt

Transcription

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