Virtual
War Memorial
Australia

JOHN FRANCIS MEERS
SERGEANT 2nd/13th INFANTRY BATTALION
AUSTRALIAN MILITARY FORCES

Frank enlisted in the Australian Military Forces on Tuesday 30th April 1940 at the army barracks in Tyneside Avenue, Willoughby a suburb of Sydney.
He provided the following personal account of his wartime experience, written just prior to his death in 1995.

1939 War broke out.

Through my father’s Artarmon fruit business, I first came to know Harry Chilton and soon went on the serve in Captain Harry Chilton’s Company of the 18th Battalion, Citizens’ Military Force – CMF (aka Militia) in 1939, gaining his Corporal stripes during 1940 January – March camp at Rutherford NSW (near Newcastle).

I had six weeks back at work before the urgent need to join the Australian Army.
1940 I enlisted in the Australian Military Forces on Tuesday 30th April 1940 at the army barracks in Tyneside Avenue Willoughby. I was aged 18 years and one month.
At the Ingleburn Camp south of Liverpool in Sydney Frank was claimed by Captain Chilton to become the Corporal Section Commander of No1 Section 13 Platoon, in the famous C Company of the 2nd 13th Battalion 7th Division AIF under Lieutenant “Monty” Wood and Platoon Sergeant Laurie Kelly with the following private soldiers in No 1 Section-Paddy Duff, Jack Fitzpatrick, Jack Beadman, Dallas Branighan, Ernie Dwyer, Charlie Goodwin, Bob Irvine, Les Carroll, George Harper and Lex Taylor.

As part of our training we were forced to march a distance of 131 kms from the Ingleburn Camp, near Liverpool to the township of Lithgow NSW.

In October our Company departed Sydney on the Queen Mary sailing first to Bombay India whence they disembarked onto a smaller vessel bound for El Kantara, Egypt on the Suez Canal and then enroute to Palestine.
1941 My division relieved the AIF 6th Division in the Western Desert at Benghazi Libya. This was our first contact with the Germans, which became known as the “Africka Corps”

On my 19th birthday (4th April 1941) my division retreated to Tobruk and held our position from that time until it was relieved by Sea during October 1941.
We were the last Battalion to leave however the ship coming up from Alexandria in Egypt was sunk.
Back to a reserve position “they said”. No further action!
However the Army coming up by land to relieve our division ran into trouble and we had to be used to help in the breakout. And fought at a place called “Ed Duda”.
Finally victory and we came out by road to be back in Palestine for Christmas.
I was promoted from Corporal No1 Section to Sergeant 15 Platoon C Company 2/13 Battalion at the age of 19 years 4 months. I was told this was the youngest promotion in Tobruk. I held this rank until I was discharged.
We fought the enemy and you fought yourself

1941
(December) Handwritten Letter

L/Sgt J F Meers
NY 3861
“C” Company
13th Battalion

7th December 1941

Nurse and Dad,

That which follows I intend to be a rough resume of the last 10 months of my life which as you know have been spent in the ungodly hole called Tobruk. To be more exact from February 28th to April 10th in the so-called Libyan desert and from April 10 to the present moment into Tobruk.
The battalion entrained at Gaza Ridge Palestine on the 22nd of February 1941 for our destination unknown, that I may add, at the time we had not been officially told but all knew that we were headed for Musso’s African empire.
Our journey to cut across the Suez Canal at El Qantara, through the upper part of the Nile Delta, past the inland side of Alexandria and the last into the arid wastelands for which the North Africa side was so well known. Our first camping ground was Marsa Matruh: we reach here at midnight on the night of the 28th – 1st March. It is so far by far the worst night I have experienced. The rain was pouring down in torrents and the wind cut one’s face till you almost cried with pain. This unpleasantry was not to last long we were ushered into some tomb town Egyptian barrack rooms and given a lot of rum and told to sleep. Which did not need reminding and before for many minutes had ‘neti pot’ breathing and snoring reigned supreme in Marsa Matruh.
Next morning when we awoke the rain has almost ceased but left in this place a slight drizzle which broke all idea of sport, sightseeing or exploration.
However, that day was spent in sleeping, sitting around, fire talking and writing letters. The next morning brought with it our call to move. Various points have been specified for the Companies to assemble and before many hours have passed, we were in Aussie transport trucks heading into the vast unknown.
Our first stop was Bug Bug a woeful place about ten miles inside the Egyptian border. There is no town village or any such obstacle to mark the place. It is so trough sand and stone with an odd clump of gorse brush to break up the barrenness of the place.
Literally speaking place was lousy with Itie hand grenades which only need a kick to send them off. Needless to say, there were several casualties, one of which was fatal.
The next time we encountered many places which has come into the limelight owing to the first British advance into Libya. They are in order as we pass through them Side Bazani, Solum, Fort Cuppizo and Porto Bardia.
Late the same evening we reached Tobruk which we pass through and camp several miles on the other side. Little did we know it was the town which in a few short months we would help to make famous the world over. For two days we waited here for arms and ammunition which did not reach us until we pushed, and to which moreover would describe as better bastards. The day’s journey was rather exciting and our first taste of warfare we had.
As I already written and told you about our air raid, I will not trouble to repeat. The feeling I can assure you was far from pleasant. The plans were Dornurs’, five of the best.
That evening we reached Derna. To say to you it was a sight for sore eyes would not be sufficient. All along the way we had sun nought but sand, stone, and gorse bush and suddenly in the distance as though a mirage a white walled city. As we came close, we could see grown vegetation coming from the town. The wadis round the town are a fortress in themselves. How are fellows managed to take it, is beyond me. The buildings are all white and of a fairly modern style. The gardens are of shrubs. Palms being the most popular. It is by far from being a clean town, but for all that, it is beautiful. When we reached out camp which stripped off and we went down for a swim. The night was spent in a deep wadi just out of Derna. It was bitterly cold and inclined to rain. Next morning, we set off for a destination unknown. During the journey, the NCOs were told we were going to a small inland town known as Barce. We arrived there about midday. The first thing that met our gaze was a prisoner of war compound containing approximately 2,000 prisoners of Itie vintage. Our billets turned out to be a railway station and weren’t bad either. The bunks were made of canvas and with the aid of a blanket or two, became very comfortable.
The task we were given here was rather interesting. It was mainly looking after the Wops and guarding the town. The inhabitants were mainly natives and were known as Wags There was a slight sprinkling of Italian people of whom the greater part had taken to the bush before our advanced column had reached them. However, owing to the good behaviour of our troops at least 90% were coaxed back again. As far as the prisoners were concerned, we had no problem at all, as a matter of fact we made good use of them as handymen. Round the place amongst them were barbers, cooks, mechanics, and general job men. We even racked up a few old bathtubs and had them heating up water and filling the bath all day for those that wanted it. So, you can see without exaggeration our life at that time was extremely pleasant. The thing that stands prominently in my memory of Barce was the R C Church it was a beautiful structure The whole of the inside was of marble even the altar. The altar cloth and trimmings were of a deep red which blended into the colour scheme perfectly. I may add that I never missed mass there. We had the English padre who gave a sermon on Sunday and, conducted a choir which was constitute of those of us present. Communion was given by the Italian priest. The spirit in which the Italian people accepted us into the church was in my opinion, marvellous. Thou we stood as invaders of their country, their enemies, yet for all that they accepted us in a spirit which I am sure is only known to the Church itself. To add, this on various occasions, myself and four of the boys, had taken 200 prisoners to the Church. Admittedly we had been armed but on reaching the Church we had left our rifles in the lobby and all, with the exception of one has gone down to the front seat and attended Mass as though nothing unusual was happening. I think it was one of the actions that helped us a long way with the people. Maybe you have heard the old saying “All good things come to an end”. News, or should I say Rommel reached that Jerry was extending the offensive from the Tripoli end. We did not believe this. Several days elapsed and we were taken out of the town to a CCS (Casualty Clearing Station) were our job of guarding the prisoners had finished, we were now guarding a British hospital. The date I am now writing about is 2 April 1941. The world had closed in on our happy little home and we had been brought down to earth with a thud. A lorry of Greek refugees arrived at the CCS and with them the news that the Hun had advanced as far as 80 miles west of Benghazi. Our Brigade is now front-line defence. Next morning greeted us with a trifle worse news the British Army had been evacuated from Benghazi and left the town a smouldering ruin. The Brigade had now withdrawn to Bernina Escarpment in the Er Regima area. That night there was a heavy concentration of vehicles near our barracks. Everything seemed to be in a turmoil. Everyone was wondering where our armed division had got to, we thought they maybe trying to outflank his advance and cut him off. We received the news that Wavell had left for somewhere unknown, Wilson is now in charge. We all had faith in our leader Wavell. He is as to us, as the cow is to Mahommedans. We are not worrying as far, as we are concerned, everything is going well for us. But also, we have a surprise waiting for us. The next day dawned, Friday 4 April 1941, my birthday. I am now nineteen and just about to have my first real taste of action. We are ordered to pack our gear and be ready to move at a moment’s notice. We are evacuating Barce and now becoming part of a large-scale withdrawal for which, the allied forces are becoming famous. Barce over-night has become a blazing inferno. At the railway station engines, trucks and lines have been blown. Buildings have been burned and blown to pieces and the demolition continues.
The “wogs” are running wild pilfering anything they can lay their eyes on. A Tait utility truck, a six-seater car and a motor bike are now on our transport strengths (needless to say, the wogs suffered, but they made up for it in the foodstuffs etc which were left behind. We are moved to the aerodrome to await out transport. Will it never arrive! Late in the evening we became tired of waiting so we mustered our own transport and set off for our destination.

13th platoon’s conveyance consisted of an Itie tractor hauling a large RAF trailer on which seated some thirty-odd. Their speed was something about 12 miles an hour and our cruising speed about 10. Anyway, after a lot of fun we reached our destination light-hearted and gay. But again, fate had a hand in the pie. We were given the news the Battalion had a fair number of casualties at Bernina.

Immediately my thoughts went to Roy, was he alright. We had joined the Army together.
The following day when our Company rejoined the Battalion. and I learned he was missing). (I omitted to state that our Company was the only one to stay at Barce, as the rest of the Bn went forward with the Brigade.
It was later discovered that Roy was captured by the Germans. He developed leg cancer in captivity. Post war Roy died in 1956.
Next morning, we packed and again waited for transport to take us back to our to our Battalion. That afternoon several Itis diesel trucks turned up and we promptly got aboard and were soon on our way to Silo 43, where the Battalion had taken up a defensive position. We were fighting the rear guard. Two days passed before we were again called on to move and when it came it was certainly sudden. In the trucks and on the move towards Derna before we knew where we were. Fifty of us crammed into a small space, in the back of an Itie truck. As you could imagine there was no room to move and for seven hours we were forced to stay in that position. Back through Derna and along the desert road to a place called Motuba (you will have heard of it as one of Jerries airfields). Out of the trucks at last. Section Commanders called together. Our orders are clear and precise. We are here to stop the German Armed Column from cutting into our line of communication isolating transport which was streaming back also on the road to safety. There we are an infantry battalion armed with rifles and bayonets, our only supporting weapon a lone anti-tank gun which would be wiped out in the first five minutes of battle.

We said our prayers and hoped for the best (I mean I was never so earnest in all my life). Slowly the hours dwindled away and dawn came, eyes were bloodshot through lack of sleep and strain: nerves were frayed and tempers short. We were filthy covered from head to foot in dust , unshaven and on the whole worn out. I walked over to where Bob Irvine was sitting (one of my section who is at present waiting for promotion to come through) and asked him to have a cigarette. We smoked without a word the whole packet and finished another until we were finished. I then got up shook hands, both wished the other the best and I returned to my position. Such was the typical conversation of that unforgettable morning. About ten o’clock that morning we received the order to withdraw. At the same time, we could hear firing from a crossroad approximately three miles away. (Several months later we learned that Jerry had attacked a quarter of an hour after we withdrew from our positions. That morning we travelled about twenty miles again and were taken off the trucks. The enemy was only a short distance off, and we took up another of our positions. This time we had support, artillery, machine guns and anti-tank guns; the funniest part of all was that several tanks put in an appearance; where they came from nobody knows. Towards evening we were dive bombed, and machine gunned. Several hours passed and we were once more in full flight.
The remainder of the letter has been lost,

Signed,

Frank

1942 My Battalion was posted to garrison duty in Syria specifically at Kasab and Lattika, near the Turkish border. Then to the oil pipeline at Aleppo, also in Syria.
A new German attack in the desert got within 60 miles of Alexandria Egypt so my Battalion was ordered back to the desert to take up a position at El Alamein in May.
The Battalion experienced several attacks and the counter attacks and plenty of night patrols, whilst the 8th Australian Army Division was being built and reinforced with troops, armour and air-force.
Then came the last and final battle of Alamien which lasted about 14 days.
At our farewell Divisional Parade in Palestine in 1943 Supreme Commander for the Middle East , General then and later Field Marshal Lord Alexander said us a tribute which I well remember. He said of the Battle of Alamein
“You fought the enemy and you fought yourselves to a standstill and then you fought on and opened the flood gates which we are now through and will go onto a final victory.
This will be my proudest memory that under my command of the 9th Australian Division.’
1943 Back in Australia I celebrated my 21st birthday at home at Mt Colah.

Then our Battalion was on the move again to north Queensland on the Atherton Tablelands for jungle training.
Then we were shipped to Milne Bay New Guinea for amphibious landing training.
We moved on to land and capture Lae, then landed at Finchhaven and engaged the Japanese at the Battle of Sattelberg.
We chased the Japanese up the coast to Sio, New Guinea where we were relieved by 6th Division who cleaned the Japanese out of New Guinea.

1944 Returning to Australia on leave I proposed to Pat and we announced our engagement on 3rd March 1944

1945 My division was transported and landed at Labuan in East Malaysia and then our Battalion was shipped to Miri just north of Kuching. This was to be our final landing.
America dropped the atomic bomb on Nagasaki and Hiroshima.
The Japanese surrendered and the War was over.
I returned to Australia, where after two desert campaigns and four amphibious landings and five and a half years of service I finally became a civilian again in November 1945.