Virtual
War Memorial
Australia

From Ballarat & District in the Great War

Cpl Thomas MULHOLLAND 3427, 58th Bn

When the Port Lincoln reached Melbourne on 10 September 1913, the weather was typical of early spring – cloudy and unsettled. But for those onboard, it was of little consequence – they were here in search of new lives. One quiet 18-year-old looked out over the quayside and contemplated where this adventure would take him next. Tom Mulholland had left everything behind in Scotland – his family, a steady job and everything that was familiar to make this trip…

Piecing together a family to illustrate ancestral background is not always easy. In this case it proved particularly difficult. Thomas Mulholland was born in Ireland – although he thought he was born in Scotland where he grew up. His parents, John and Mary Mulholland, were Irish Protestants, but it was impossible to uncover the details without an unlimited access to records.

John Mulholland claimed that his eldest son was born in Drum, County Down. The problem is that the town of Drum is in County Monaghan. It can only be estimated that he was born in 1895, but it is known he was named for his paternal grandfather. His brother, John, who was two-years younger, was born in Belfast. There was at least one other sibling, David.

After moving to Scotland, the Mulholland family settled at Law Crossings just outside the town of Carluke. Overlooking the River Clyde from a high plateau, Carluke had seen great expansion during the Industrial Revolution. Manufacturing of bricks, glass, confectionary and jam, plus strong local industries of milling, weaving and mining, all relied heavily on the direct rail link to Glasgow.

Nestled in the heart of the Lanarkshire countryside, Carluke was a good place to grow up. The jam industry was fed by the thriving orchards of the area, initially grown by the monks who had founded Carluke. Many varieties of pear and apple grew all around the town, but when Tom was a little boy, strawberries were the main crop.

Tom was educated at the Market Place School, which overlooked a small park in the centre of Carluke. (Whether this was what was later referred to by locals as the “Wee School” I have not been able to ascertain).

The railways were to provide employment for the males of the Mulholland family. John Mulholland senior worked as a foreman plate layer. When Tom left school, his first job was as a porter at the Carluke Railway Station. Young John followed, working as a booking clerk in the station office.

In Australia, underpopulation resulted in a constant shortage of agricultural labourers and domestic servants. This prompted a policy introduction by the government to encourage immigrants to fill the positions, with agents to be paid 14-shillings for each immigrant induced to come to Australia. This was not altogether popular, with some feeling this was an attempt by the government to flood the labour market to drive down wages. English social worker, Thomas Sedgwick, who was ‘a vigorous advocate of juvenile emigration,’ also organised for groups to be brought out to Australia, New Zealand and Canada. Known as “Sedgwick’s Boys,” most were gathered from industrial cities and aged between 18 and 22. It was acknowledged that this was an experiment – they could not be sure that someone who had grown up in inner-city Manchester (for example) would adapt to life on a farm.

How Tom Mulholland came to hear of the scheme is not known, but his decision to leave for Australia when he was just 18 was a huge gamble.

The Port Lincoln was a new ship built by Tyneside Company, Hawthorn Leslie, and was contracted by the government to bring immigrants to Victoria. She left London on 29 July 1913, carrying 633 immigrants, 232 of the complement being ‘British lads for farm work.’ They were accompanied by Thomas Sedgwick.
Most of these ‘lads’ came from the cities and it was thought ‘by those well versed in such matters’ that more suitable candidates could have been found in country districts. Certainly, the more worldly, street-smart city-dwellers seemed intent on mischief during the voyage, and there were many complaints about raucous behaviour and gambling, which was said to have been ‘rife, and that some of the youths had “taken down” their more simpler companions.’ The captain threatened punishment more than once and sending the youths to their country employment after landing was made a priority.

Agents and officials met with the prospective employees at the West Melbourne Presbyterian Church the morning after the Port Lincoln docked. Interviews were conducted and suitable matches were organised.
Assessment of this latest batch was somewhat harsh and littered with stereotypes.

‘There were distinctly two types of Englishmen in the gathering – the stolid, big-handed, if somewhat small-headed, type, and the smart, pert youngsters that are the peculiar product of city life. A dozen big lads blushingly acknowledged that they came from Scotland, and they certainly seemed best fitted by physique for the type of work they will be sent to. But all the lads seemed keenly interested in what lay before them, and those who could be drawn into discussion of their future seemed to have had it well drilled into them that they would have to work pretty hard for the fortune that they had all come out to make.’

One of those ‘blushing’ Scots, was Tom Mulholland, who was also one of the few to come from a country region. He had the larger physique that would be beneficial to hard manual labour, which all made him a good prospect for a potential employer.

Amongst the numerous agents looking for workers was John Stokie, manager of Banongill Station at Skipton. The property, which was one of the leading sheep and cattle runs in Victoria, was owned by grazier, Charles Fairbairn, who was himself born at Kelso in Scotland. Tom Mulholland impressed the Banongill representatives and he was offered a position at the property.

As a boundary rider (a uniquely Australian term), Tom’s duties included doing regular checks of the perimeter of the 7000-hectare property. He had to make sure the fences were secure and that stock had not wandered or been injured. On such large properties, there was always the risk of illegal activities, like “poddy-dodging,” (the theft of unbranded calves), and anything untoward was immediately reported to Mr Stokie. Tom also turned his hand to butchering to supply the station cooks with beef and mutton.

Tom settled in well to life at Banongill, and things would have continued in that vein except for one major issue. War.

War changes everything. Whether it is on your doorstep or half a world away, all that once seemed familiar suddenly and dramatically draws into sharper focus. At the earliest opportunity, Tom Mulholland enlisted. He completed his paperwork at Geelong on 24 August 1914. After being passed fit, he joined C Company of the 8th Infantry Battalion at Broadmeadows. However, after just three weeks in camp, Tom was found to be medically unfit and discharged. There was no indication as to the issue, but he immediately turned in his rifle and bayonet and returned to Banongill.

Mates also found themselves drawn into the prospective adventure of war. So, it was not long before Tom tried again, only this time he was joined by two other Banongill workers – Ernie Millist, who was a gardener at the property, and Eric Marshall, who worked as a groom. The trio took themselves into Ballarat on 19 July 1915 and joined the queue of prospective volunteers at the Ranger Barracks.
For Tom there was still the difficulty of requiring a parent’s consent to enlist as he was underage and country doctors were more inclined to enforce the letter of the law. Never mind – the addition of an extra year to your age will not cause much comment, and when you are not well known it is even easier. Doctor Archibald Campbell, who was duty medical officer that day, would certainly have never seen the quietly spoken Scot before.

In respect to his physical attributes, Tom had no difficulty in passing the examination: he was 5-feet 10½-inches tall and weighed 11-stone, with an expanded chest measurement of 35-inches. His colouring was somewhat darker than his Celtic ancestors, with his natural skin tones deepened by long hours in the Australian sun. His hair was brown and his eyes described as “bluish.” It was, therefore, interesting that Dr Campbell only described his physical development as fair, but he did note that Tom had been vaccinated in infancy. He did not, however, note the birth mark in Tom’s left eyebrow that had been recorded earlier at Geelong.

All three passed easily.

From then on everything was plain sailing. Tom left his belongings in the care of John Stokie with the intent that he would return to Banongill at the end of the war and the buoyant trio travelled to Melbourne.

During those early stages, Tom spent time at both the Showgrounds Camp in Ascot Vale and at Flemington. As he had absolutely no military training, these initial weeks were quite a novel experience. It wasn’t long before his posting came through and, on 16 September, he joined the 11th reinforcements allotted to the 7th Infantry Battalion at Broadmeadows Camp. His regimental number was 3427.

Tom, Ernie and Eric sailed from Melbourne on 11 November onboard HMAT Nestor. Soon after reaching Egypt, Eric Marshall wrote to Ernie Wise, a blacksmith at Skipton, stating he was ‘anxious to reach the firing line, and hopes to get there soon.’ He made sure to let everyone know that he, Tom and Ernie were all well.
The expansion and duplication of the AIF meant that Tom and his mates never served with the 7th Battalion. They were all assigned to the 2nd Training Battalion at Zeitoun until formal postings were organised. Tom had also earned his first stripe with an appointment to lance-corporal. However, when they joined the 59th Battalion at Tel-el-Kebir on 26 February 1916, Tom reverted to the ranks.

Ultimately, however, the trio were about to be split up. On 11 March, Tom was admitted to hospital with appendicitis. He was assessed at the 2nd Australian Stationary Hospital before being transferred by ambulance train to the No3 Australian General Hospital in Abbassia on 26 March. After recovering from an appendectomy, he was moved to the British Red Cross Convalescent Hospital at Montazar on 26 April. By this time Eric Marshall had been transferred to the 57th Battalion, and Ernie Millist to the 14th Field Artillery Brigade.

After another month recuperating, Tom was discharged to the 15th Training Battalion at Tel-el-Kebir on 26 May. He underwent a searching physical examination on 6 June to ensure that he had fully recovered and was passed fit. Just over two weeks later he was on his way to France. The transport Ivernia took nine-days to make the crossing from Alexandria to Marseilles. From there, Tom travelled through to the 5th Australian Divisional Base Depot at Étaples.

Following the disastrous Battle of Fromelles on 19 July, several Australian battalions were left counting an unconscionable cost and needed immediate reinforcements. The 58th Battalion, which had provided carrying parties in the early stages of the fighting, had committed its reserve force three hours into the battle. They were ‘virtually annihilated’ by enemy machine-gun fire, effectively losing a third of the unit’s fighting strength. When Tom Mulholland joined the 58th on 23 July, they were still going out into No Man’s Land to bring in the wounded and dead.

The 58th Battalion continued to man positions at Fromelles for the next two months.

Tom quickly caught the attention of Brigadier-General H. E. “Pompey” Elliott. As a member of C Company, Tom was indefatigable and enthusiastic in his work and, after being appointed lance-corporal on 6 August, was put in charge of the permanent wiring party for his company.

‘…By day he was never satisfied unless preparing “knife rest” [Chevaux de Frise] entanglements for the parapet or preparing wire balls to fill up holes in the Front. At night and on foggy days he would have his party out examining the wire, repairing and adding to it and putting in position the “knife rests” etc that he had prepared…’

The 27 September 1916 was a typical day for Tom Mulholland – he was out in No Man’s Land with a party of men working on the wire. Throughout the day the enemy artillery had been very active, and any movement, however tiny, quickly caught their attention. One shell burst amongst the wiring party and Tom was hit in the face by shrapnel. They were able to drag him back to the trench and he was taken immediately to the 14th Australian Field Ambulance, before being moved to the 1st Australian Casualty Clearing Station at Estaires. Although this was a relatively short trip of some 13-kilometres, Tom would most likely have been oblivious to the situation. He was suffering from a compound fracture to the skull and there was little that could be done. He died there shortly after being admitted.

The next day an un-named chaplain attached to the 1st ACCS was tasked with the burial of Tom’s body in the military extension to the Estaires Communal Cemetery. He immediately wrote to John and Mary Mulholland.

‘In his death we have lost a very capable and brave non-com. Officer. He was promoted only recently on account of his good work, and his death is regretted by the whole Company. It will be your proud, though sad, consolation to know that your boy died in the doing of his duty. He has made the great sacrifice and laid down his life for his friends.’

To acknowledge the work of this brave young man, Pompey Elliott recommended him for a Mention in Despatches, noting that ‘his work was of a high order,’ and that he was ‘a splendid example to the men and his death was a great loss to the battalion.’ The award for ‘distinguished and gallant services and devotion to duty’ was announced on 4 January 1917. John Mulholland was duly contacted by the British War Office.

‘…I have it in command from His Majesty the King to inform you, as next of kin of the late Lance-Corporal Thomas Mulholland (3427) of the 58th Battalion, AIF, that this non-commissioned officer was mentioned in a Despatch from General Sir Douglas Haig, dated 13th November 1916, and published in the Second Supplement to the London Gazette, dated 4 January 1917, for gallant and distinguished service on the field. I am to express to you the King’s high appreciation of these services and to add that His Majesty trusts that their public acknowledgement may be of some consolation in your bereavement. – I have the honour to be, your obedient servant. – M. D. Graham, Colonel, Assistant Military Secretary…’
Tom’s brother, John, had enlisted for active service and was serving with the 1st Battalion of the Scots Guards. On the first day of the Third Battle of Ypres (Passchendaele), 31 July 1917, Lance-Corporal John Mulholland was listed as missing. It was not until June the following year that the family was informed that he had been killed in action. His body, however, was never recovered. He was one of nearly 3000 Scots Guards killed during the war.

John Stokie contacted Base Records on 31 January 1918 with concerns over Tom Mulholland’s personal effects.

‘…I have received a letter from the late Thomas Mulholland’s father saying he had received the box, but there was several things missing. I see by the list the best things are missing. I sent a list home to Mr Mulholland so as he could check everything. All I can say is I hope the one that did take the things will have no luck with them…’ Base Records had no record of the box and there was no full explanation of the situation.
The only belongings that were returned to his parents arrived in two small packages; they contained his wallet, three note books, an identity disc on a chain, four coins, photos, five military books, polishing pad, brush, an Arabic book, scarf, and a cap comforter.

At the end of the war Ernie Millist and Eric Marshall both returned to Australia. Ernie married Skipton girl, Emily Wise, daughter of the local blacksmith mentioned earlier, raised a family and lived for many years at the Skipton Post Office. Eric returned to his home in Longford, Tasmania. He died at the Launceston Public Hospital on the 25 August 1922 from an illness that was said to have been as a direct result of his war service.

On 26 June 1920, a memorial pillar was unveiled in the Old Churchyard at Carluke. Decorated with a Celtic cross, it is inscribed with the names of the town’s war dead, including those of Tom and John Mulholland.
Your lot, the glorious price to pay;
Ours to record with grateful pride
That freedom lives on earth today,
Because you died.

For John and Mary Mulholland, the sad reality was that the war had cost them two of their sons and only one had a known grave. In choosing an inscription for Tom’s headstone, it was to speak for both:
To Memory Ever Dear.