Virtual
War Memorial
Australia

From Ballarat & District in the Great War

Ballarat was the Golden City – it was gold that brought immigrants from all over the world, and it was gold that built the magnificent architectural centre that is admired all over the world. But it was community that gave Ballarat its strength; men and women who committed themselves to trying something new, working towards improvement and progress. Those hardworking entrepreneurs did not only develop the infrastructure of the city, they raised families who inherited the same ethics and ideals. This in turn was passed onto the Great War generation, who, as part of the golden past, were imbued with a sense of adventure, honour, and duty. We have a lot to be grateful for.

One of Ballarat’s early pioneers was Irishman, John Casey. Raised in Scotland, he arrived in the colonies in the early 1850’s. Before moving to the Ballarat goldfields, Casey dabbled in horse-dealing in Melbourne. He quickly established a cab line between Ballarat and Buninyong, that he then developed into a fleet of omnibuses. With this foresight, Casey soon made his fortune.

Moving into the hotel trade, Casey held the licenses for a number of local pubs, including the John o’ Groats in Main Road, the Horse Bazaar in Armstrong Street, and Casey’s Farmers Hotel in Market Square. The severe economic depression of the 1890’s saw Casey’s fortune all but disappear. Seemingly undaunted, he opened a furniture warehouse and became an auctioneer.

He and his English wife, Mary Smith, raised a large family in Ballarat, including their son, James Alexander Casey.

A wheelwright with well-known Ballarat firm, Kelly and Preston, James had definitely inherited his father’s staunch work ethic. He married Mary Jane Warren, from Miner’s Rest, at St Patrick’s Cathedral on 3 February 1894; but, in a time of large families, the couple were to only have two children.

Their first-born son, John Robert “Bob” Casey, was born at Ballarat in July 1894. A second son, James Alexander, arrived in 1899 to complete the family.

Bob’s early years were spent in central Ballarat – the Casey’s lived at 5 Yuille Street, which is only a short walk from the magnificent boulevard of Sturt Street. When he reached school age, Bob was sent to the Christian Brothers School in Skipton Street. The Irish brothers had a reputation across the world for being good Christian men who encouraged their charges to pursue their education and become worthy citizens.

They did a good job.

When Bob Casey left school, he began a four-year apprenticeship as a blacksmith at Kelly and Preston, working alongside his father. After completing his indenture, Bob gained a position at well-known foundry, Cowley’s, in Ballarat East.

Bob had been only 11 years-old when his remarkable grandfather died. But it seems that John Casey’s spirit for adventure had been passed on to his grandson. The opening up of the Western Australian goldfields helped the governments of the day to successfully push through the development of the transcontinental railway line. Legislation authorising the construction was passed in December 1911. As a result, there was an immediate need for skilled labourers – especially blacksmiths. So, Bob decided it was time to branch out on his own for the first time.

When war was declared, Bob was still in Western Australia, cutting railway sleepers for the new line. After deciding that he was going to enlist, he made his way to Perth to present at the main recruitment depot.

Being underage, and not having immediate access to signed permission from his parents, Bob raised his age by two years to 22 years and 7 months when he enlisted on 15 February 1915. His years of hard, physical labour had developed Bob’s physique to such an extent that it was highly unlikely that, even if the recruiting sergeant had suspicions, any questions would have been asked. The fact he had also accrued four years with the 7th Australian Infantry Regiment in Ballarat went in Bob’s favour. He passed his medical examination easily – being measured at 5-feet 9-inches, and weighing in at a muscular 11-stone 11-pounds. Other than noting that he needed attention to his teeth, Bob was pronounced fit and was immediately accepted as a new recruit.

That same day, Bob joined other volunteers as a private at the No8 Depot Company in the Blackboy Hill Camp.

It wasn’t long before Bob was posted to A Company of the 28th Infantry Battalion and, on the 12 July, he boarded the troopship Ascanius at Fremantle, to begin the voyage to Egypt.

After what was a comparatively short time in Egypt, Bob was on his way to the Dardanelles. He embarked from Alexandria on 4 September onboard the troop transport Ivernia. Shortly after landing at ANZAC Cove, he was promoted to the rank of corporal.

Whilst the fighting at Gallipoli was noted for his ferocity, the greatest cause of casualty was disease. The unsanitary conditions were exacerbated by a lack of fresh water, clouds of flies that fed off rotting corpses and the constant infestation of lice. Any soldier who served on the peninsula usually fell ill with one of a dozen different ailments. One of the worst was enteric fever. Bob Casey had been at Gallipoli for less than a month when he became sick. He was admitted to the 7th Field Ambulance, before immediately being transferred to the 10th Casualty Clearing Station on the beach at ANZAC. The diagnosis was dysentery – severe enough that he needed to be evacuated back to Egypt.

On 18 October, Bob was admitted to the No1 Australian Auxiliary Hospital with enteritis and debility. Five days later he was transferred to the No1 Australian General Hospital at Heliopolis with confirmed enteric fever.

The dreaded disease was so prevalent, the Australians had set up an Enteric Fever Convalescent Camp at Port Said. Bob was admitted there on 27 November. Whilst he was there, the doctors completed a full medical evaluation. The enteric was diagnosed as the “ordinary type” – so, the more common form of salmonella infection – and it had totally incapacitated him. The decision was made to repatriate him to Australia for “3 months change” – in other words, time back in the healthy environs of home to rest and recuperate. On 13 December he embarked for Western Australia onboard the Hospital Ship Wandilla.

Bob was admitted to the No8 Australian General Hospital in Fremantle on 6 January 1916. A medical report was conducted on 20 March that noted he had been bed-ridden in Egypt for six weeks, but they were still not convinced that he was completely fit. Bob, himself, stated that he was ‘a little slow of wind,’ and the doctor was concerned that his heart rate was rapid. So, he was sent for further month’s treatment.

By 27 April, Bob had completely recovered. All ‘signs’ were now back to normal and he was ready to return to active service. He was released from hospital on 11 May – after 127 days in hospital in Australia – and resumed duty.

Despite never having been discharged from the AIF, Bob was re-attested at Claremont on 13 May. He was then transferred to the newly raised 44th Infantry Battalion and promoted to the rank of sergeant. The day prior to embarkation, Bob was posted to the machine-gun section of the battalion. On 6 June he boarded HMAT Suevic to re-join the AIF. This time, however, his destination was England.

The Suevic was a Jubilee Class ocean liner from the White Star Line and she made the voyage in good time, docking at Plymouth on 21 July. The battalion immediately marched into camp.

Having been earmarked for further promotion, Bob was sent to the Tidworth School on 15 August. He returned to his unit at the Larkhill Camp two weeks later.

After four months training on the Salisbury Plain, Bob finally embarked for France on 25 November and the 44th Battalion joined the existing infantry divisions on the Western Front. A month later, on 30 December, the 44th moved into the line, east of Armentieres, for the first time.

Throughout the bitter winter of 1916-17, the 44th was rotated in and out of the line, and spent down time training and performing manual labour in areas behind Armentieres.

On 5 March 1917, Bob received his commission in the field, and was appointed to second-lieutenant. Given his inexperience as an officer, Bob wasn’t chosen to take part in a major trench raid on 13 March. Despite the raid failing to achieve its objectives, the adrenalin for all the men would have been elevated.

The battalion’s first major battle was at Messines in June. The attack on 8 June was successful with the 44th taking their portion of the “green line” between the La Douve River and Hun’s Walk on the Messines Ridge. The ‘hanging on’ before they were relieved, however, resulted in the unit suffering some 300 casualties. Amongst the wounded was Bob Casey; he was lucky – the wound was slight enough that he was able to remain on duty.

At Broodseinde Ridge on 4 October, the 44th Battalion performed well, in spite of heavy enemy shelling and the weather being wet and cold. The remainder of the year was relatively quiet for the unit, and, on 14 December, Bob was granted two weeks leave to England. During his time in “Blighty”, Bob had his portrait taken – although the sepia tones did not show his fresh complexion, hazel eyes, and brown hair, the young man looked incredibly relaxed in his new officer’s uniform. He returned in time for New Year’s Eve celebrations that was marked by an artillery shoot on enemy territory at midnight.

The 44th Battalion was deployed to the Somme during the German Spring Offensive in March 1918; they were ordered to take the village of Sailly-Laurette on 28 March 1918.

The night was dark and cold and the men had their waterproof sheets draped over their shoulders against the rain. Being unfamiliar with the terrain made the situation even worse. . ‘…The approach march for two and a half miles down the steep slopes above the river, over ploughed fields drenched in the soft rain, and down the sudden precipitous banks with which the slopes were occasionally terraced, rendered orderly movement difficult…’

As they approached the village, flares went up and enemy machine-gunners opened fire. Bob, who was leading his platoon, was wounded during the early stages of the advance. Regardless of the fact he was in great pain, Bob continued to lead his men in the face of heavy machine-gun fire until he reached his objective. He continued in command until he was wounded again – this time in five places. Before he would retire from the line, Bob gave orders to ensure that the work would be successfully carried on.

Bob was removed to the 11th Field Ambulance, where his wounds were treated. The severest of the wounds was a bullet wound to the buttock that had penetrated his lower abdomen. Carried back behind the lines, he was admitted to the 1st Red Cross (Duchess of Westminster) Hospital at Le Touquet on 3 April. By then, Bob was dangerously ill with septicaemia and there was no treatment available to treat him successfully. The infection spread throughout his body and he died of his wounds on 7 April. He was buried in the Étaples Military Cemetery.

By the time his family was informed that he had been moved to the Red Cross Hospital and that his condition was life-threatening, Bob had already been dead three days. Sadly, the slowness of transmission and receipt of news was one of the worst aspects of the war for the families. But news of Bob’s death wasn’t long in being relayed and was greeted with sadness in Ballarat. As a tribute of respect, flags were flown at half-mast on the Ballarat Town and City Halls on 14 April 1918.

Very soon, letters of condolence began to arrive – the following letter was written by Major C. H. Lamb,

'…I heard today the sad news of Bob's death, and I feel that I must write and express to you my deepest sympathy.
It has come as a shock to me, as I had known him in both the 28th and 44th Battalions. His loss will be a great one to the battalion. He was loved and respected by his men, not only for his dauntless courage in action, but for his charm of manner and ready sympathy under trying conditions of war.

The CO and all the company commanders had the greatest confidence in him, as we knew that whatever was entrusted to him would be well and faithfully done. Having been constantly with him in action I can pay tribute to him as a brave and gallant soldier and a true friend.

Assuring you of my deepest sympathy…'

It was a letter to James and Mary Casey from Bob’s friend and comrade, Lieutenant Charles Lintott MC, that broke the news that their son had been awarded the Military Cross for his work at Sailly-Laurette.

'…I was with him when he was wounded, and have nothing but praise for his conduct on that occasion. Although wounded he refused to leave or to be taken away from the position he had gained until he was absolutely satisfied his men were perfectly safe.

During the time he was with the battalion (from its inception) I have been privileged to come in contact with him at his duties, probably more so than any other officer in the battalion, and have always found him one of the best pals one could ever hope to have.

He was awarded the Military Cross for his conspicuous gallantry on that night, as no doubt you already know. I personally can say that he earned it, as only one who was actually at the position where he was wounded can exactly appreciate what he had done.
I am enclosing the 'Army orders' in which the MC award was promulgated. They will be a keepsake as well as the Cross, which you will no doubt receive in due course from the military authorities. Also enclosed you will find a letter from General Birdwood to Bob before he died…'

Official notification of the Military Cross came through in December 1918. The war was over, their son was dead, but he was being spoken of in glowing terms – ‘conspicuous gallantry and devotion to duty’ and ‘courage and resource…worthy of the highest praise…’ It can only be hoped that it offered some solace.

Adding to their heartache, almost all of Bob’s personal belongings – including his cigarette case, two gold rings, his watch, religious charms and rosary beads – were lost at sea when the SS Barunga was sunk by a German submarine as it returned to Australia.

An early spring morning in September 1919, saw the Governor General, Sir Ronald Munro Ferguson and Lady Helen, travel to Ballarat for an official medal presentation. As soft rain fell, Ferguson presented the Military Cross to Bob Casey’s parents in front of a large crowd assembled on the forecourt of the Town Hall. Whilst the event was over fairly quickly, the significance could not be lost on those present: this was to be the last public acknowledgement of one of Ballarat’s bravest young soldiers.