Virtual
War Memorial
Australia

A Transcrition of Cecil Taylor’s Diaries from the Somme 1916 – 19.
Transcribed and collated by Rex Jacobs and published in Australia 2001 also transcribed in French by Rex Jacobs and Michele Hucker as a joint ango-francais project 2006


Preface


The year 1914 saw a fledgling nation of some five million people in a far-flung corner of the earth dragged into a conflict that was about to engulf Europe in one of the most horrific wars of all time.
Australia was about to lose her innocence, as some 300,000 men enlisted as volunteers to join with troops from New Zealand in forming an alliance to fight alongside British and French troops against the German and Turkish forces in the Middle East and across Europe. Of that number more than 60,000 would be killed while a further 150,000 would be wounded or taken prisoner.
Australian and New Zealand troops were thrown into action at Gallipoli on 25 April 1915, and it was there, as thousands were slaughtered in a senseless sacrifice, that these two nations were bonded in the brotherhood of Anzac.
By early 1916 the focus of the war had shifted to Europe and whilst the Anzacs retained some troops in the Middle East, most of them were sent to France along with fresh recruits from home.
Here they would join in the conflict that had become a stalemate, fighting in the trenches of Belgium and France.
Warfare here consisted of heavy artillery bombardment and suicidal charges across no-man’s land, dodging machine gun fire and barbed wire entanglements, often
gaining precious little territory whilst suffering very heavy losses.
Between July 1916 and the end of 1917 more than 120,000 men of the Anzac forces had been killed or wounded on the battlefields of the Somme, Bullecourt, Messines, Amiens and Ypres, just to mention a few.
The struggle continued through 1918, until finally in August of that year the Hindenburg line was broken and the German defeat was imminent.
The Australian capture of Hamel Spur and the Allied offensive on Amiens were significant factors in the final victory, and on 11 November, Germany finally surrendered.

It was in this conflict that my grandfather found himself as a young volunteer from the "Colonies"-- along with thousands of his Aussie mates. And it was here in the mud and blood and horror, that innocent lives were traded for the freedom of mankind.
Fighting as signaller in the Australian Infantry Forces, he was privy to most communications within his area, and throughout his war experiences he compiled several diaries.
It is from these diaries that this transcription has been written.

I have taken great care to transcribe the diaries as accurately as possible.
Please forgive any misspellings of place names, as some of the original writing was done under great duress in the trenches, at times under heavy fire, and whilst Cecil was a meticulous writer the conditions were far from ideal.
All names and people mentioned in the diaries are as written and the dates and times noted are taken straight from Cecil’s pen.





The collection consists of eight dairies, several photos and almost 50 unused postcards, which he sent home to his mother for safekeeping.
It is interesting to note the style and composition of the time, and I have taken particular care to ensure that nothing is lost in the transcription.
The only compromise being a few minor changes in punctuation and sentence structure, his use of capital letters remaining unchanged.

There are three main diaries, which form the tale of Cecil’s adventures from beginning to end, written as a chronicle of his service from 1 May 1916 to his homecoming at Outer Harbour in Adelaide on 15 Feb 1919. These diaries were compiled by Cecil (almost certainly on his home-coming) from the other five smaller diaries, and they form the first - and main - part of this book.
The five pocket diaries, written by Cecil on the run as time permitted, are dealt with in the latter section, along with some interesting illustrations.
In Cecil’s original work some of the more mundane happenings of the day were not transferred from these, to the main diaries. Many of these little pieces I have taken the liberty to include in this book without changing any details or times. In this way I have presented the whole collection as one diary.
I have included an occasional explanatory note in a different typeface from Cecil’s, and some illustrations from various sources, including the diaries themselves, the postcards, and a few photographs.
Naturally Cecil used imperial units of measurement and pre-decimal currency units: miles, yards (yd), feet (ft), inches (ins), and pounds, shillings and pence. I have converted these (in brackets) to the nearest metric equivalent.
It is interesting to note, that on a few occasions whilst in France, he does use kilometers in measuring distance.

As far as I know Cecil never spoke of the war, and only a handful of people even knew of the very existence of these diaries, as they lay unread for many years.
He was a humble man of great strength and character, who through all the years was never heard to boast of his heroic deeds, not unlike I suspect thousands of other brave young Australians who have travelled that same path.
I am sure that, like me, you will be enthralled by Cecil’s story. It is at times a tragic yet glorious insight into those dark days that engulfed the World at that time.
For me to be able to step back in time, and walk beside my grandfather as he describes firsthand the real story of the Aussie troops, and his involvement, is a great honour, and I invite you to join with me as Cecil’s story unfolds.


Rex Jacobs 6 September 2000


The Diaries

Being under the age of twenty-one, I was unable to enlist without my parents’ consent, which I could not procure. But after my twentieth birthday, I decided to enlist contrary to my parents’ knowledge, which I did on May 1st 1916. -- went to Currie St depot and joined with one J. Dockings, and after filling in papers and giving my age as twenty one and a half, we were examined (medically), during which they take notes of any marks or scars, also colour of your eyes and hair. Height and weight are also recorded -- my sheet having
5 ft 11.5 ins and 12.5 stone respectively. (182cm, and 79kg)
After kissing the bible and declaring yourself determined to serve the King and observe all military orders we were marched to the Exhibition grounds, being the receiving depot of recruits -- here life in the AIF began -- were I to go through it all again, I’m afraid it would be one short on the roll call.

After breakfast on May 2nd we were lined up on parade while the C.O. of the depot read orders of the day, our orders were to be inoculated. This began at 9.00 am, we were inoculated in the left breast -- it was nasty and severe and many men fainted with the after effects -- we were given 24 hours no ‘duty’, but were barred from leaving camp. Next morning we were lined up again for parade and orders were read -- then taken off for vaccination, this being done on the left arm in shape of a broad arrow -- thus…*
If all four were effective it was the Government sign left on your arm for life and you could always be traced as having been in the Australian Imperial Forces. In my case all four were effective and I’ll bear the mark for life.
After this was done we were given another day ‘no duty’, but kept in camp as before.
*
On the following day we were taken for a route march and then to do exercises -- but some of us had bad arms owing to the vaccination and others of us pretended to -- so between us we did very little work.
Altogether I spent ten days in this camp, the most part was spent in being issued with clothing from Quartermasters Store and doing Fatigues, such as Cooks’ Fatigues, Camp Fatigue and Guard Duty,
the latter I was able to avoid.
The Camp Fatigue is perhaps the most interesting of all -- while on this job you have to pick up all the papers, cigarette butts and any leaves of trees which may have blown into the vicinity -- whether there is anything to pick up or not you are supposed to be doing something till parade is over. It is while doing these things that Camp life becomes very monotonous and also that the average Soldier becomes more or less what we call a malingerer (a lazy and good for nothing individual). Of this class of man the AIF has a good percentage and nearly everyone has been made so by the way they are treated.
When first going into Camp a fellow bows himself down and does just what he is told by those who are over him -- he does his best to grip the art of being a good Soldier -- but through having inferior men over him and being treated like so many sheep for market, or like dogs belonging to a sled, and always spoken to as though he was a criminal and never let answer for himself -- he then becomes cunning as it were and never does anything except that which he has to.
An Australian Soldier properly trained would be the most faithful man of any army and also capable of doing anything within reason.

During our tuition here we were sleeping -- some in the open Stand -- others in Cattle sheds and some including myself in Sheep pens. We had to lie on concrete floors, and as would be expected, we nearly all caught a chill, especially just after being inoculated -- many having to go to Hospital and a few never returning.
This was absolute carelessness, because (as was done later on) if there was a little straw for each man, it would undoubtedly have saved a fair percentage of sickness -- also deaths.

One evening, news was bought into the Camp that some Germans had made a disturbance at Hahndorf and that we were to be sent up at once. We were called out on Parade and taken round to the ammunition depot and given 50 rounds each -- but only half of us had rifles. Having all been supplied with ammunition we had to march to the railway and await further orders -- which never came.
At 10 pm we were dismissed but remained on alert till further notice, and that was all we ever heard of the matter. *

The next day the 43rd Battalion who had been based at Morphettville came to our camp and stayed two days, during which time they stole about 4/10 worth of clothing from our fellows -- thieves are very common in the AIF.


May 10th 1916.
We leave for Mitcham Training Camp, marching there after having been inoculated that same morning. Upon reaching Mitcham we had to erect tents for ourselves -- 8 men per tent (of my first tent mates, none to my knowledge have been killed and only one wounded). We were together about a month, during which time we had to learn drill, handle a rifle and do practice shooting at the Port Adelaide Rifle Ranges.
Once when coming up from the Ranges on the train, our fellows were throwing water at people waiting to cross the line -- one party, quite gaudy in dress were waiting in a big car, and the lads threw several mugs of water right over the occupants, causing great laughter from all the boys.

* Many of the citizens of Hahndorf in the Adelaide hills, as well as in other centres such as Lobethal and the Barossa Valley towns, were of German descent, and through the war were subject to suspicion and discrimination.

Training Camp.

I was anxious to get back to Camp, because when I left in the morning I forgot my money belt and was rather a little surprised to find it laying on my kit that night -- it contained over six pounds.
We had leave that night, so Joe Hopkins and I went to town, arriving home about 12 midnight.
Next day being Saturday, we cleaned up the Camp during the morning and left to go home at 12 noon, having to be back in Camp by 7 am on Monday. We always had weekend leave unless on duty, and if we were on duty during the weekend we would get two days leave through the following week. We did not require a leave pass for weekend leave, nor after 5 pm each night -- in fact the only time we had to have one was between the hours of 7 am and 12 midday, and from 2 pm till 5 pm -- apart from those hours we could come and go from Camp so long as we were there for our Parades.
During our ‘Smoko’ which was from 10.30 am till 11am and 3 pm to 3.15 pm there used to be several Confectionary-fruit and Ice-cream carts come on the Training Grounds, but they had to move off as soon as the rally was blown.

After having done a few weeks training I applied for a transfer to the Signalling School, but was unable to get it. I kept applying but on each occasion I was told I that I would be amongst the next lot to be transferred; this went on for about five weeks until I went to the C.O. of the Sig. School and applied in person -- whence he requested to have me transferred to the School, and hence I joined Signals.
Not before I might add that an Officer in my unit refused the transfer and the C.O. sent a Sgt. up to get me.
The Officer never spoke to me again, being so wild that I had got my transfer -- he proved himself to be a very nasty person -- even amongst his own mates he had very few friends.

I had just been about a week at the Signals School when I got measles and was sent to Hospital in Hill St Nth Adelaide. I got a chill too, which brought on what is called measles-pneumonia.

After a week here I was sent to the Blind School (used as a hospital at the time) and when three weeks had passed we were given a carbolic bath and sent to Torrens Park (a convalescent home). Here I was in what used to be an old theatre, very pretty inside and even had a piano for us to entertain ourselves. After just one week here we were sent back to Mitcham again.
July 27th arrive back at Mitcham and two days later had a route march through Adelaide. From Mitcham to Adelaide -- through all the Principal streets in the City and back to Camp again.
Before being dismissed our CO said the General had told him that
our Unit had marched better than any other and as a reward we were given leave for the rest of the day and the evening.
Of course we all gave him three cheers and called him a ‘jolly good fellow’, which he was, even apart from this instance.

On the 1st of August I began to learn Signalling.
In a Signalling School there are several classes, each lasting four weeks. At the end of the first four weeks I gained a certificate for my work and was put into the high class awaiting a transfer to a Unit as a Signals Specialist.
We had a very good time while in the School -- we used to go out nearly every night. We had to do Camp Signalling for an hour every night dressed in full uniform and then were allowed to go to town on leave for the rest of the evening.
It is very interesting to learn Sg. Work -- especially when you get to Field Telephone work. We used to run out a wire, put a phone on and talk to each other and send messages by buzzer (Telegraphy), often having competitions in which party could do the work the quickest. When we would be crossing a road we had to put the wire across on two trees or poles, or else we would have to bury it underneath the ground -- this was quickest if we used a pick.
If the wire were left on top of the ground it would be cut with the passing traffic -- then we would have to keep on mending it, which would hinder our work.
The two main objects with Signalling are like every other kind of war work (accuracy and speed). Correct work is absolutely essential and quick work often saves hundreds of lives.
I’ll refer to more Signalling later as it would be out of place right now.

On Nov 8th I was attached to the Artillery as a Sig. Specialist and after three days we were to go to Melbourne to complete our training -- perhaps to most fellows who have never been to interstate towns this would be a welcomed trip, and so it was with me. I’d had enough of Mitcham Camp life and was longing to get away across the sea -- and now that I was going to Melbourne, I knew it was only a few more weeks’ training and then off to England and some other places of the War Theatre. So too, I was looking forward to seeing places of interest in Melbourne before going abroad.


We left Adelaide by the Melbourne Express at 4.30 pm on Nov 11th 1916. -- Now I was on my first trip out of South Australia.
I had spent just six and a half months in Camp, and may say that I had learned besides Infantry Drill and Signalling Operations to ‘dodge’ or avoid being caught for Guards and Pickets and also Camp Fatigues.
All these things a fellow seems to learn naturally, it is not because you dislike the work, but simply because you hate the treatment you get -- and my experience with Soldiers, is that the average Australian Soldier does not like anyone to dictate to him -- and I don’t blame him when I think of the way he is treated; nor would you if you could be with him for just one day.

After saying goodbye to a few friends at the Railway Station, we drew out with hearts in our mouth, and wondering what was in store for us in the future. When we passed the Mitcham Station and were in full view of the Camp we could hear voices calling…

‘Goodbye old Mitcham Camp where we had the cramp
Goodbye to Mitcham stew and jam
Au-revoir old Adelaide Hall
After the war will see you some more’…

Then we flew into the tunnel and everything seemed to be left behind and we were all looking ahead to see what new sight offered.
After crossing the notable Viaduct and passing through more hills, we found ourselves in one of the prettiest spots ever known -- this was Mt Lofty -- to any person’s maiden visit on this line I think this place will be to them just as it was to me -- absolutely perfect in beauty.
It is a very pretty trip through the hills and well worth one doing it.
We reached Murray Bridge a little too late to see its beauty, as it was now growing dark and we saw little or nothing until we arrived at Stawell in Victoria. It was just breaking day when we pulled into the station and also raining in torrents.
Stawell, judging from the train I think is a very pretty place indeed -- it may have seemed so perhaps after having come from so far away and then seeing it just as morning broke.
Ballarat -- although supposed to be a nice place, did not appeal to me as so from the train -- you get a good view of the town and perhaps it’s rather rash to judge a town at such a distance -- perhaps had I walked its streets I may have formed a very different opinion.
The view from Sunshine Station is rather good, although the Station is small.
We arrived at Spencer St Station at 10.15 am Nov 12th 1916, then boarded a train back to Footscray -- this perhaps I can say without doubt is the dirtiest place I saw in Victoria.
From here we marched to Maribyrnong Camp.


Before leaving Mitcham we were told we were going to a very up to date Camp -- but we were a little surprised to find that the Parade Grounds were more than six inches deep with mud, and we had some difficulty in crossing them to our tents -- but this was due to the fact that prior to our arrival there had been several inches of rain of which we were unaware at the time.
We had leave till 9 am the next day, and as we were all anxious to see Melbourne we headed into town.
I was very much disappointed with the Capital, as we had been led to believe it was a beautiful town -- but it is far from being so, with we might say the exception of the Flinders St Railway Station which is very nice and exceedingly convenient, and according to history one of the busiest Stations in the world.
My opinion of Melbourne is that although much larger, it as not to be compared with the Queen City of the South (Adelaide).
In saying this I must add that St Kilda Rd is perhaps one of -- if not the prettiest place of its kind that I’ve seen in any part of the world I’ve visited. The beach itself is also very nice and worth a visit, as are the Melbourne Gardens.
Maribyrnong is perhaps one of the easiest Camps I’ve been in and one in which you could do a lot of work if you didn’t avoid it sometimes.
Our work is of various natures -- we have an hours’ physical exercises in the morning before breakfast, then perhaps an hours’ Gun drill, which is very interesting. One learns all the parts of the gun and how they are worked, then you have to learn all the kinds of shells, how they are made and what they are used for -- they are quite a history in themselves.
Then there are all the fuses which are screwed into the shells to effect the bursting. Some shells burst in the air -- these are called Shrapnel, and the fuse has to be screwed into a certain position so as to allow the shell to burst in the air after a certain time.
Then there are shells that burst the moment they strike anything, the fuses on these are called ‘instantaneous fuses.’
There are also shells that penetrate a good distance into the earth or buildings before they burst -- these are called ‘delay-action’.
Then there are shells that have a very sharp nose piece that will go through several feet of concrete or steel plate, these are called ‘Armour Piercing Shells’. They are mostly confined to the Navy -- though sometimes used on land.
The Guns we have here are all 18 Pd QF, or eighteen pound quick firing, a very useful Gun on the battlefield.
We also have to do a good deal of sham fighting -- such as doing a long hard march with full pack.
An Artillery man’s pack is much easier carried than that of the Infantry, because he has to be ready to handle the guns at any time.
After marching a few miles we would have to take our horses into a sheltered place, leaving the guns to be pulled into position to fire on an imaginary enemy -- all our work here was only sham as we never fired a gun during any of our training.
Being a Signaller, my work was to help other Sigs. to get into communications with our headquarters (which had already been established) and then run a line to our guns and to the officers’ quarters -- then report ‘all correct’ of an action.
We always had this done as soon as the guns were ready, then the gunners would do practice Gun laying. Our work then was to send new targets with range, elevation and what kind of shells to be used.
These details would come from an officer at the O.P. (Observation Point) -- there would be two Signallers there as well to operate the signalling apparatus.
They would send the orders to us and we would transmit them to the other Sigs. at the guns, who in turn would call out the orders to the men firing them. When they were ready to fire, we would have to send on to O.P. saying ‘ready to fire’-- and when the order to fire was given we would thus pass it back down the line.
So you can see a Signaller does not have all his time to himself.
After our days sham fighting we would march back to Camp and most likely be given the evening off -- the latter of course depending on our work.
Maribyrnong Camp.

On some occasions we had to make a pontoon bridge across a river and take our guns across it -- but one day our gun slipped off the pontoon when it was half way across and fell into the river. It took about two hundred of us to pull it out again -- I think that was about the last pontoon bridge built at Maribyrnong, and if the truth were told, I think the Officers burnt it. But to us these little times of excitement were just the thing; little we cared if all the guns had fallen in the river.
We were taught how to make trenches and gun pits, but I don’t know that the gun pits were a good scheme -- we used to get lost in them and could only be found when it was time for dismissal of Parade.
Most of us were well trained in cunningness and it took a good one to watch us -- if we were brought before the ‘beak’ and found guilty of being lost in a gun pit, then we would have to do seven nights work in trenches. A night’s work being from 6.30 pm till 10 pm.
I did not get stung for this, although I was often lost in the gunpits; but a shrewd hand when he was lost in a gunpit or trench, would have a pick or shovel, and then he was always ‘just having a rest’ when the officers put in an appearance.

After being at Maribyrnong for a few weeks we were warned of our impending overseas draft, but most of us would be pleased to get away from the ‘red tape’ Military Heads.
Before going overseas all men must be medically examined -- and it was for this we were bought before the Doctors on Dec12th 1916.

Prior to this I had been ill and often in the mornings was unable to get up, and had to be helped up. I had reported to Sick Parade and been told by the Dr. that I was alright, but ordered hot foamations three times a day which only made things worse. I went again next morning to explain that this was not at all working, only to be told that there was nothing wrong with me and that I was fit for all duties. I felt very ill indeed but would never have gone back to that Doctor again.

Thus it was that I reported to the Doctors for our examination for overseas duty.
Being taken Alphabetically I was near the last to get through, and as soon as I walked up to the Doctor (who was a different one from the one I’d seen on Sick Parade) … he said ‘how are you?’… and I answered ‘splendid Doctor’ to which he replied ‘good’… and proceeded to examine me all over, and then looked up at me and said
‘Do you say you are feeling quite well?’
I said ‘Yes I am well and fit for anything’
Whereas he replied ‘Do you know that you are seriously ill and that I cannot possibly let you go abroad with this draft’ adding ‘why you should have been in Hospital well before now! Why didn’t you report sick?’
When I told him that indeed I had reported sick only to be told I was fine, he seemed to get a little agitated and demanded to know which Doctor I had seen.
Once I had told him the story and of the treatment recommend he became even more concerned and arranged a conference with three of the Doctors, including the one who had seen me in the first place.
After some deliberation and dissent among the Doctors it was decided that I should be sent to the Base Hospital as soon as possible.



I was admitted suffering from the after effects of pneumonia and also thought to have Hydatids, for which I had to undergo an X-Ray examination.
The first few days I was there I cannot remember what happened, as I was very ill at times -- but I do remember being visited by a girl whom I’d made sincere friendship with a few weeks before

It was only a few days before I was able to remember everything, in fact within a week I was feeling quite well again, but was confined to bed for three weeks.
In a Hospital, it is a case of making things as pleasant as you can, both for your own sake as well as those around you.
Well I think at this Hospital, and at Ward 2, we had as good a time as could be expected. The Sisters were wonderfully good to us and nothing was too much trouble.
They did know however if a fellow just fancied he was ill, and was always making complaints, of which we had a fair share I might add. I think a Military Hospital is rather a badly arranged affair -- because in our ward there were many different sicknesses.
While I was there one man died of Consumption, a thing I think which should not be in the same ward as Pneumonia, Pleurisy and various other Chest and Lung complaints.

One interesting incident was caused by a Russian -- there was a fellow bought in soon after me who was very ill and in his delirium one night he got out of bed and was walking around. So I got up and put him back to bed (his bed was next to this Russian). Having got him into bed I found I couldn’t get back to my own and the night Sister came on the scene and helped me -- telling me never to get up and help anyone again, because I might get infected with his complaint.
Next day it was found that the lad I put into bed had developed Meningitis and of course I was at once put under observation.
The Russian was terribly afraid he would get it too and was convinced that I would be sure to have contracted it because I had touched the poor fellow.
That morning I was to undergo another X-Ray, and as I was too weak to walk downstairs, they carried me out on a stretcher covering me with a white sheet.
The poor Russian, on seeing this was convinced that I had died of Meningitis and demanded to be given his clothes back and to be released from the Hospital immediately

Well the Sisters of course wouldn’t do this, so the poor chap went back to bed covering his head over, and was asleep when they bought me back in. When he awoke and found a screen surrounding my bed he once again become convinced that I had indeed become infected with Meningitis and became quite agitated, drawing his blanket over his head and refused to let go. Even when dinner was served the poor fellow could not be persuaded to come out.
During the afternoon he once again fell asleep and what followed was a moment I shall never forget. Now this may seem a little farfetched, but while in Hospital I often slept with my eyes open, and it was like this that I was when the Russian woke, and on finding the screen gone, he looked across and saw me with my eyes open and owing to the bedclothes being tucked in tight at my feet and shoulders, no one could see me breathing; (the Sister in charge was the only one who knew I slept like this sometimes).
Well the Russian screamed out at the top of his voice and of course several Sisters came running in, along with two Sergeants and a few patients. They were all looking at me convinced that I had snuffed it and the Russian was in hysterics and feeling his pulse, first on one hand and then on the other, telling the Sister that he also had Meningitis because ‘this side beats much faster than the other’.
Of course all this commotion awoke me, and things nearly got out of hand when I sat up and asked what all the fuss was about. If looks could have killed I think that is about where my life would have ended.

It was just 2.30 pm by this time and the visitors began to arrive -- my eyes were watching the door for my girlfriend who often came in and I was not disappointed today either. She was very good to me indeed and was a friend in need -- because I was so far from my own people -- had it not been for her, I would not have had such a pleasant time in Victoria.

Well this wasn’t a very nice place to spend Xmas, but one had to be content. We had a lot of poultry for Christmas -- most of the patients who were out of bed had been given leave till after New Year.
Some Red Cross voluntary aid ladies came in and decorated the ward, and we were fed up on all kinds of sweets, but I myself was barred a good many things, as were a lot of the other fellows.
Some of them were allowed only milk foods, however we did have poultry for nearly a week.

Finally, on January 5th 1917, I was able to stay out of bed unaided for a good three and a half hours, it was a great treat to be able to do so, and as a consequence, one week later I was given 14 days leave to go home.






So once again a trip to Adelaide, and I happened to strike a decent carriage of people and we had quite an enjoyable time. Some of them had brought plenty of cakes and nearly all of us had fruit, so we were well off. I cannot remember any of their names now -- we arrived in Adelaide at 10.15 am and the first person I saw was a Military Policeman who asked if I was travelling, to which I replied
‘no, only going somewhere’ he said ‘have you a pass?’
and I said ‘yes. I’ll pass you! will that do?’ Looking rather stern he retorted ‘well you know we have to see your pass or we get into the stew ourselves’.
So I showed him my warrant and left him.
It was very hot in Adelaide and I spent some of my time in bed.
After being home for 14 days it is rather hard to go back to army life again, or at least I found it so, but eventually I arrived back at the Hospital in Victoria on the 30thJanuary to find that I was to be kept there for a few more weeks.



After a bit of persuading I was able to convince the Doctor to let me go out to a Light Duty Camp, but on arriving there I formed a poor opinion of the place and determined to get back to Maribyrnong as soon as possible although still not feeling too well.
After a few days I was sent back to Maribyrnong and was able -- after some trouble, to get into the January Reinforcement Artillery, only to be classed as unfit for active service when I underwent the medical examination.
So once again it was off to the Maribyrnong Hospital and by now I didn’t hardly know whether I should go overseas or not, but they would not let me go, nor give me my discharge right away, saying that I would be discharged when I was fit.
So I was deferred from the January list of Reinforcements but succeeded in making the February list on leaving the Hospital a few weeks later.
This time I got through because we had a new Doctor, and he was like a good many of our Army Doctors, so finally I got through after being humbugged about so much.
We were warned for embarkation on March 7th 1917 and I was among the Guard that was sent on board two days prior to sailing.

We went on board at 10 am and after lunch we were set to work to carry all blankets, hammocks, cleaning apparatus and cutlery from the bottom hold onto the different troop decks.
Having completed this task we returned to Maribyrnong only to find out that this was not our Ship, and in fact we would not be leaving for another week or so.
So it was back to a life of monotony again.
On arrival back at the Camp again we were cheered like troops returning from abroad and they called us the ‘Pt Melbourne Anzacs’. It was disappointing returning to Camp but we soon settled down to it again and made the best of it.

There were 500 N.S.W. Field Artillery fellows come to join us at Maribyrnong and things became a little crowded.
Some of the N.S.W. Signallers were the ‘dizzy limit’, instead of learning their work they would play ‘two up’ and other games.
We often went out signalling with them but they did very little work -- on one occasion we went to the Cross-Keys Hotel doing signalling for the Artillery -- but some of the fellows found pleasure in drinking and eventually got too much, the result being that a few of us had to do all the work. We worked all night, and got back to Camp at 7.45 am, and as soon as we had breakfast we had to go on Parade again.
This was supposed to make us hard and fit for the field, but it very certainly didn’t make us good tempered. In any case we got leave that evening which satisfied us, most of my leave being spent at South Yarra.
When going from Camp per Car we were stopped by a Police Officer and our driver had to produce his licence for driving a Motor. I think now that our driver must have been expecting this, because just a little way back he went into a shop and borrowed another man’s licence -- so we were right and went on our way.
After I’d been to South Yarra and we were coming back, a funny thing happened as we got near the Melbourne Show Grounds.
Another Car was about to pass us and one of our fellows said
‘Give him a race to the bridge’ a distance of about two miles.
So off we set -- we must have been doing about sixty miles per hour,
but the Car behind was too fast for us and we pulled a little to one side to let it past. But just as it was level with us it struck a little ‘spoon drain’ and threw three of the fellows out.
One was seriously injured, but the others escaped unhurt. One wheel of the Car was broken off and it went down the road about 100 yards and the axle was broken too.
We stopped our Car and picked up the fellow who was hurt and took him to Hospital -- he was covered in blood and his face was cut something awful. It was after 2 am when we got back to Camp and needless to say we needed no rocking. Nor were we pleased to hear reveille in the morning.

This was the day we had to learn some new Signalling work for Aeroplanes, which I found to be very good. We had to make letters on the ground with long narrow strips of white cloth, each letter being about twenty five feet long (7.6m)-- it had to be very large so that the Aeroplanes flying at a good height could distinguish them.
We also had to learn what we call ‘Aeroplane Sound Signals’, this being done with a whistle.

May 5th we went to Tivoli Theatre to see Ada Reeve in her last play. Also went to a Violet farm on Sunday, it was very nice but not as good as Morialta Violet Farm in Sth. Australia.





May 7th 1917
We received orders for embarkation this morning and got leave in the evening. I went to South Yarra.
May 8th closed Camp -- but few, or none of us stayed in camp.
May 9th Reveille at 4.30 am, Breakfast at 5 am, Roll call at 6 am, leave Camp at 6.30 am, arrived at Ascot Vale Station 7.50 am, then by special train to Pt. Melbourne New Pier via Flinders St. Station.
After getting embarkation cards, (which are just cards with your address on -- stating that you are to go abroad on a certain boat), we went aboard about 11.30 am, then were allocated our deck which is about midships.
Dinner at 12 noon, then we began work.
I happened to get on guard -- but found it not so hard as working down below. Our boat is loaded with Peas and Wheat -- it is quite a treat to inspect the holds of a cargo ship. It is wonderful the amount of goods that can be stored away in a boat.
After tea we were given leave till midnight.

I went to South Yarra, and have to make this the last time. Nobody seems to know how hard it is to have to say goodbye to one you love so dearly as I have come to love this girl, and I’m sure I’ll never forget our parting -- but better still will be our meeting when we have done our bit abroad and returned to our loved ones. How long will it be?... we daren’t think of how long it may be.

May 11th All troops came on board at 11.30am and were immediately to report to their respective decks.
Civilians were not allowed on the wharf until 2.30 pm, and we were to move off at 3 pm. It was not long for the people to say goodbye to their soldiers -- but it was quite long enough and dozens could be seen trying to ‘Smile, Weep and Laugh’ all at once -- and although it is a terrible sight, it still has a very humorous side to it.
It was this side that the interstate troops saw, because very few of them had anyone to see them off.
I climbed up the rigging as far as I could, and from there, a good sight was had of the wharf and the town itself.
As we pulled out from the Pier a young girl followed the boat looking up in the air, and she walked right off the Pier into the water.
A young fellow (an Army Chaplain) jumped in and managed to get her ashore -- by this time we were a good way from shore and heading out to the heads where we were to drop anchor and would stay until dusk on the following day.

Perhaps most of us never realise what it is like to sit down and think that we have left our homes and dearest ones behind, and are going to a place where lives are given for lives and thousands die daily.
A funny feeling comes over you as you fully realise this fact and then to think that perhaps you will never see your dear ones again.
It’s a feeling nobody wants to have a second time.


And so farewell Australia.



It was just getting dark as we came abreast with the Heads, and as soon as we passed through them with ‘search lights’ flashing all round it became very rough with big waves rolling and swaying our boat about, just as though it were a leaf.
Presently the whole fluid before us began to change its colour to silver
as we looked eastwards watching the Moon just rising, and with its rays dancing on the water, quite a picturesque scene was presented.
To one who had never been out in the open sea it was a sight which appealed very much.
I’ll never forget my first night at sea, nor perhaps will I ever forget the next day, as it was my first introduction to sea-sickness.
When in this state you don’t care if the boat goes down or what was to happen -- you feel as though every part of you did not belong to you, and what with feeding the fishes and all other things in the sea, there is certainly not much left to wish you could die with.
I was sick for half a day, and that was longer to me than all my life before.
After my sickness left me I got quite plucky and used to tell some poor coot that if he was to get a piece of fat pork on a string and swallow it, then pull it up again and keep repeating it, he would cure his sea-sickness.
Of course before I could finish telling him all this, he would be gone to the side of the boat to feed the little fishes again.
You couldn’t help smiling when you would see a fellow just nearly sick -- he would look as if he had all the worries of the world on his mind -- and to be sea-sick I think is worse than all the worries of the world just at that particular time.

Well we had quite a collection of units on this old tub.
Field Artillery -- Army Medical -- Flying Corps -- Motor Transport Division -- Signallers -- Tunnellers -- Railway Unit -- Nursing Staff -- about 1700 all told along with 10,000 tons of cargo including 2,000 tons of fresh water.

During the ten days it took us to reach Western Australia, we struck some very rough weather -- something awful. Too cold for anything and raining every day.
We did not get off at Fremantle, but dropped anchor a few miles out and waited until some of the boats took more troops aboard.
There were 14 Troopships and two Destroyers in our Convoy.

Fremantle is situated on either side of the river Swan, just at the sea-shore -- during the night the town looks very gay with red and blue lights -- it is not a very big place but looks quite nice in the moonlight.

May 23rd
On leaving Fremantle we had a beautiful sea, just as level as a billiard table -- we began work now -- mostly physical exercises and fatigues.
We have been issued with life belts -- a life belt fits around your waist and ties with a cord -- it is supposed to keep you up in the water for 24 hours, most being made of Cork, but a few made of Kapok.
In case of our boat being hit by submarines or mines -- we have certain parts of the ship to run to and wait for orders to lower the small boats which are carried ready to drop down in the water.
We often have to practice this and it is the fun of the world to see everybody running to their place when the alarm goes. You must have your belt with you or you will get 14 days in ‘clinks’.

On Sunday we have Church Parade at 10am, this being the only parade on a Sunday.
Our Ministers name is Merv Proctor -- but his sermons are too deep for the average person.
The Signallers have been allowed to do signal practice instead of physical exercise, and we have quite a good time with nobody to worry us.

Below is a list of Bugle Calls.

Bugle Call Duties.

6.00 am Reveille
6.03 am Draw Dry Rations
6.30 am Parade
7.15 am Breakfast
8.00 am Sweepers Parade
9.00 am Parade for Gargle
9.30 am Physical Exercises begin
10.30 am Inspection
11.45 am Parade dismissed
12 noon Dinner
1.00 pm Officers Mess
2.00 pm General Parade
4.30 pm Parade dismissed
5.00 pm Tea
5.30 pm (or sunset) Retreat
8.30 pm Draw Hammocks
9.00 pm First Post
9.30 pm Lights Out

Prior to each call a warning of 15 then 5 minutes is blown.



When Reveille is blown everyone gets out of bed, folds their blankets, rolls them in the hammock and packs it into the bins specially provided. The day’s orderlies go and get the dry rations such as Sugar -- Butter -- Bread -- Cheese and Jam which are kept in a little store room.
The 6.30 am Parade is just a roll call to see if everyone is out of bed.
Then 7.30 am, we are all present for this Parade which is breakfast.
At the 8 am call, which is Sweepers Parade, the men detailed the previous day, fall in with brooms and buckets of water, soap and scrubbing brushes. They have to wash all the upper decks and of course they come in for a fair share of ribbing for doing the ‘old woman’ out of a job and such similar remarks.
The Gargle Parade is one in which we get a fair entertainment of ‘laughing jackasses’. It is supposed to be a prevention of sickness -- but we only did it when we were watched.
The General Parade at 9.30 am was for Physical Exercises, but the Signallers did Signal work instead and we used to have one man watching for the heads while we were playing cards, such as Bridge or 500 and various other games. We did manage to do some practice at times.
Inspection was one of the most absurd things you ever saw -- first would come the General (Wallock) then the Capt. of the Boat -- Adjutant -- Orderly Officer -- Deck Officer -- Quartermaster Sgt. -- Orderly Sgt, -- Deck Sgt. and also the Bugler, who had to blow three long notes on the Bugle as they were about to go from one deck to the next.
Everybody had to stand to attention while they were passing -- General Wallock was not a bad sort at all, but Lieut. Gill (Adjutant) was a ‘dinky die Rotter’. He always found the bad points of things and was for everlasting having someone up before the beak.
At 11.45 am dismissal of Parade we were all free to go about the boat, except for the two decks reserved for the Officers.
In the afternoon from 2 pm till 4.30 pm, it was Parade as in the morning.

Sunset or 5.30 pm (Retreat). -- When this was blown we all had to stand to attention and face aft. (to the back of the boat) -- for what reason I’ve never known, but we soon got used to it and took no notice -- in fact they forgot to blow it sometimes.
The lights below were all put out at 9.30 pm and after that you would have fellows singing and barking like dogs and imitating all manners of birds -- dogs -- cats and every living thing. You could not for a moment imagine what an awful noise they made.
Finally they would quieten down and all that could be heard above the snoring (many I’m sure were pigs), was the throbbing of the engines.
In the morning you wouldn’t hear them laughing and singing -- but rather swearing and cursing with savage looking fellows to be seen on all sides.
It was quite a treat to hear every one abuse the mess orderlies among the confusion of breakfast -- but it was they who had the last laugh, as instead of attending Parade they were going about the task of cleaning up.
At night we used to go to the ship’s Bakehouse and buy cakes and coffee from the cooks. But if we had been caught at it we would have been in serious trouble and so would have the cooks.
Speaking of the cooks -- the food for the most part was not too bad except for the rabbit stew with all the fur in it, and the puddings which finished up about 25 ounces to the pound*, and I must say made quite dangerous projectiles when thrown around the mess.
If you were to get hit with one of the many pieces that were often flying through the air, you would have thought a shell had struck you. But still, taking it on the whole it was not so bad as it may have been.
We had a very nice piano on our deck and also a gramophone -- along with an awful savage Quartermaster who very often gave us a little enjoyment -- especially when someone had pinched his fruit or anything of that kind.

We had a fair share of sports such as boxing and tug of war, along with other ball sports on deck. There were no lights on the upper decks, which made it terribly dark at night and no one was allowed to smoke after dark, because of the possible danger of submarines.
Washing days were noted for the fine displays of half clean garments hanging all over the boat -- some expert washer-men are to be found, and also some expert thieves. Nearly everybody had to sit and watch their clothes dry, or someone would pinch the clean ones and replace them with dirty ones. Some fellows were even known to miss dinner or even take their half-dry washing down with them.

On June 5th we sighted land for the first time since we left Fremantle. The island of Mauritius is very steep along the coast and very rough looking -- it has a population of 250,000 and its chief products are Sugar and Cotton.
Our Convoy was joined here by two Japanese Warships -- they remained with us, and the one that accompanied us from Melbourne returned to Australia.

June 7th we had sports again and also the boxing for championship of the boat between Kent (South Australia) and Chapple (Victoria).
Kent was the winner -- the fight only lasted 4½ rounds -- Chapple was a fine built fellow -- but not quick enough for Kent.

June 9th a young fellow (Don Juke* N.S.W. Artillery) slipped on the staircase and fell, hitting his head against one of the steps and was taken to Hospital where he died a few hours later.
Next day we buried him -- to bury a person at sea they just wrap them up in a cloth and strap them to two bars of iron and drop them over. None of your ‘dust to dust … ashes to ashes about it’.

* Don Juke is the closest I can come up with, (Cecil’s writing can be seen below).




June 12th we arrived at Durban and anchored out from the wharf. It is a beautiful Harbour with plenty of space for shipping -- there are about 30 ships of the large type here now -- half our troops were given leave today, we marched into town and then were dismissed till 11 pm.
The Town Hall is a very nice building and the Zoological Gardens are very pretty -- there are not many horse vehicles in the City -- mostly ‘rickshaws’ and some of the men who pull them are very strong looking men -- men of the Zulu type.
They have their own police in town -- who are armed with a long stick, usually having a large knob on the end, and they use it quite liberally. One day a number of them were fighting in the roadway and the police began hitting them with all force -- they soon scattered -- but their police were terribly afraid of the Australians -- one black look and they were off.
Plenty of Pineapples and Bananas but Apples were very scarce and about 6/- per doz. (60c)
A very dark fellow came on the boat and was selling papers -- some of our fellows were making fun of him and talking about him -- but when we asked him if he could read the paper, he soon showed us that he had had a good education from an English school, and was not the poor fool many of our boys thought. He was very interested in the gramophone we had -- I think he would have listened to it for weeks -- he stayed on our deck until about 9 pm, then of course he had to go.

June 15th We went for a route march and back to the boat for dinner -- then got leave from 2 o’clock.
We went into the City then out to Umgeni by car. We also visited the Botanic Gardens, after which we had tea at the Savoy -- well we don’t know if we had it or they had us -- because we had to have some more later in the evening.
We also went to Umbilo.-- this is a Car Terminus -- we got a few oranges here, but they were not as sweet as candy.
At 9.30 pm we had to meet together and march back to the boat.

June 16th City Patrol. On City Patrol our work is to do about the same as the police do -- keep order among our own fellows in the town. In the afternoon we went to the ‘Indian Market’, it is well worth seeing too -- the first thing we struck was a fellow selling meat -- he said it was meat -- but it looked more like a Butcher’s backyard.
He had all the insides of sheep and cattle and when we asked him the price he said, pointing to a sheep’s leg, ‘this one is 10 pence’, and pointing to some intestines -- ‘this one is 1 shilling’ ‘But of course’ he added, pointing once again to the leg ‘this one has lots of bone’
And pointing to the intestines ‘but this one, no bone all meat!’
The next was a fellow selling Poultry -- but some of it was very much like a fox’s meal -- he had live poultry too -- but it was very much in need of feathers. (1 shilling, 10c) (ten pence, 8c)
We then came across a man making ‘real Gold Badges and Rings’ as he called them -- you could watch him make them with wire and he said they were pure gold -- costing about 1/-. (1 shilling, 10c) Every here and there you would see women selling tobacco -- not like we have in Australia, but green tobacco just finished and tied up in bundles -- all the women chew a kind of root which makes the gums look as if the mouth is bleeding -- they sit down on the ground sometimes nearly covered with dust.
The Indians can buy dinner at the Market, and you should see what they get -- boiled beans, which are scarcely fit for pigs -- and some have boiled rice, which they pick up with their fingers instead of a spoon.
If you walk far enough you will find every kind of business man you can possibly think of -- in fact you may see many that you couldn’t tell to what trade they belonged.
The pastry is the funniest looking stuff you ever put your eyes on -- it is quite black -- just like its cooks.
All in all it was a very interesting place, even if we never ate there in preference to the food on the boat.


En route to Cape Town.

June 17th Sunday Church Parade at 10 am -- nobody allowed off the boat. At 1.05 pm we weighed anchor and left Durban.
We have no Escort with us today. As evening gathers in the distance we can see the town of East London -- it looks very nice in the night with all its lights aglow -- it has begun to blow very hard from the sea -- all men are ordered to keep on one side of the boat.
Plenty of fellows are sick, so it must be very rough.
A boat struck a mine and sank this morning with all lives (about twenty) lost.
We saw what was said to be a mine, but don’t know for sure if it was -- we saw three Whales -- they are very big and seem very awkward in the water.
All one side of our boat has been closed down owing to the roughness of the sea -- we had a life boat parade and the Submarine Guard had a firing practice -- this guard has to watch for Submarines.
When firing for practice they throw bottles (empty ones) into the water then fire at them -- I don’t think they sank too many bottles.


We sighted land again at about 3 pm on the 20th and fell into Cape Town at 8.30 am on the 21st of June.
We had a route march through the City, then were given leave.
It is much nicer than Durban -- the town is lovely and clean -- we went for a Car ride to Camps Bay, and after having tea there we came back over Table Top Mountains and down into the town. On the hills near the mountains we got plenty of Silver leaves -- they grow as a bush sometimes 6 or 8 ft high. There are also little ones similar to pines.
Table Top Mountain is supposed to be 3,800 ft high -- the carline runs nearly over the highest peak -- it is twelve miles long by the time it reaches the top.

Cape Town.

Clouds hang on top of the peak all day, unless it is very clear.
In many places straw rooves can be seen -- there are some very pretty gardens -- the shops are very nice -- most of the people seem to be Dutch -- or some other such nationality.
We heard that some dispute a few days ago arose and soldiers were called out to keep order -- we thought perhaps we might have to do the same -- but no such luck.
At 7 am on June 22nd we pulled out from the wharf and anchored in midstream -- then when our Cruiser arrived we moved off -- leaving six of our Transports and two Battle Cruisers to follow on later.


Several cases of Mumps were reported today -- owing to Mumps being among the troops in the forward part of the boat, we ( being aft) are not allowed to go to the forward part.
It is bad enough to be on a boat -- but when you cannot go from one end to the other it just grows a little monotonous.
We had one case of Meningitis, which was put off at Cape Town.

June 26th We saw a boat on our starboard side and our Cruiser went about 15 miles (24km) out to see what it was, as it refused to answer our signals. It was a good way off and we were unable to detect what kind of boat it was -- but our Cruiser was satisfied -- after having spoken to its Signalmen. It certainly caused some excitement on our boat.

June 27th Today we had a bath parade, everybody had to have a bath (salt-water). It was said that some of our fellows had not had a bath since coming on board, and as we often have the pleasure of the company of Bugs and Lice we cannot be too careful.

Some fellows won’t have a bath so, of course others report them to the Officers and then we all have to have a bath -- it is very annoying -- but we have to grin and bear it.
Ice creams are being sold on board and they are very nice too.

We have 90 patients in Hospital -- part of the promenade deck has been made into a temporary Hospital.
Influenza is very bad -- weather getting quite warm.


July 4th Land sighted at 7.30 am, we anchored out as there is no wharf. -- The town is Freetown, the capital of Sierra Leone.
It is very pretty entering the bay -- there are a lot of buoys in a row and just room to go in between -- the buoys are all connected and electrified so as to stop any enemy ships or submarines from entering.
We are loading ‘smokeless coal’ -- they use smokeless coal from here to England so that the enemy cannot pick up our whereabouts by the smoke that is discharged from the boat.
There was some Bullion gold loaded too -- it is in long bars and they load it with a steam crane.
We got plenty of coconuts from the natives -- there are a lot of buildings all along the coast but nobody is living in them -- white people can only live for a few months at a time in this part of the world -- there are only 130 white people in the whole of Sierra Leone.
Two fellows bought a monkey each from the natives and we have seen some fun when they are trying to quieten them -- but they will never get them quiet because everybody teases them, and they hide away in any dark spot they can find.


Back at Sea.

July 6th we left Freetown.
At 9 am we sighted a boat out at sea and our Cruiser ordered it to stop, but it wouldn’t -- so the Cruiser went off after it at full speed and after getting fairly close it fired three shots at it -- it soon stopped and we found out it was only a whaling boat.
The Cruiser thought it was a mine laying boat belonging to the
Huns.

July 14th we are now travelling in a zigzag course to avoid Subs. This afternoon one of our Boats was seen to proceed out of its course, blowing the alarm signal and firing at what was thought to be a Sub, but later proved to be none else but a poor innocent whale.
Whether it suffered through the rifle fire or not I can’t say, but it must have got a surprise. It caused a little confusion as you can well guess.

July 15th This is the last Sunday we will be on board, so at last we are getting to our destination. We are continually seeing ‘supposed to be submarines’ but are in the end only whales.
It is quite nice today and it doesn’t get dark until about 9 o’clock.

July 16th very thick fog -- can scarcely see the next four Boats. Supposed to have one of our Subs with us -- have only one Cruiser yet.

July 17th admitted to Hospital with mumps.
Still very foggy and travelling a zigzag course each day but not at night. Met the escort consisting of 5 destroyers at 2.30 pm. -- very foggy this afternoon.



July 18th We sighted land early this morning and arrived at Plymouth Harbour at 8 am. Disembarked at 10.30 am.
I had mumps so was taken to Royal Military Hospital Devonport.
After two days here, we walked into Devonport town and Plymouth -- also saw where Drake was playing bowls when the Spanish fleet was sighted (Plymouth Harbour).
There is a statue of Drake here and a very nice beach -- Seaplanes are kept here.
We went into a shop for dinner one day and got nearly enough food for a stray terrier dog -- the cakes had no sugar -- in fact there was no sugar anywhere -- fruit was an awful price -- we came to the conclusion that at last we had come to the war zone.
We took leave from here every day and on the whole we had a very good time. It is a terrible place for children -- they are as thick as thieves -- but not so healthy as Australians -- plenty of them are lame and covered with sores.
There are also plenty of wounded men here from France including some Tommies. I met a Tommy* who has been in Hospital for 13 months -- he said they only got paid 1/6 a day and have to pay 7d per week for Hospital -- even though they had been wounded. It made me think that it was not all beer and skittles in the British Army.

* British Soldier.
‘Tommy’ was a popular name for the British troops, consisting mainly of English and Scottish Regiments.
The Australians were referred to as ‘Aussies’ or ‘Diggers’ and the New Zealanders as ‘Kiwis’.
Collectively the Australians and New Zealanders were know and greatly respected as ‘Anzacs’
The Canadians were sometimes referred to as ‘Newfoundlanders’ and the American troops of course were ‘Yanks’
Popular names for the German Soldiers included ‘Hun’ ‘Fritz’ and ‘Jerry’

1/6 one shilling and six pence (approx. 15 cents)
7d seven pence (approx. 7 cents)

Devonport.

July 26th left Hospital and went by train to Salisbury, then to Ludgershall (via Andover) and to No1 Military Camp Purham Downs. All wounded men are sent here before going back to France again -- it is quite a large camp. There are several Y.M.C.A. buildings, also a Salvation Army Hut and a Church of England Hut, so we have plenty of recreation rooms and waiting rooms.

July 29th Admitted to Park House Hospital with second attack of mumps. Quite a lot of patients here but I am not very ill and only had two days in bed, but have got to stay three weeks.
I went into a town nearby, but could not even get a meal.
Would often go for a walk around -- plenty of forests, and among the trees we would find wild strawberries.

Aug. 5th 22cd Birthday -- rather a nice place to spend it in Hospital.

Aug. 18th left Hospital and went back to Purham Downs.

Aug. 24th went to Lark Hill via Salisbury and Amesbury -- attached to No1 Battery Howitzer Brigade.
On Sunday we went to see the ‘Old Village Blacksmith’ near Durrington, we also saw the ‘Spreading Chestnut Tree’.
The Smithy is still there and all the old workshops -- there is a guard watching the tree because visitors come and pull leaves or branches off for souvenirs and it’s nearly dead.
Coming home we thought we could cross the fields and make our journey shorter -- but we lost our way and finally found ourselves at Durrington, so we had some supper then went on to Camp.

Sep. 1st went on disembarkation leave (this leave is given to all overseas troops before going to France).
If you intend spending your leave in London you only get 6 days, but for Scotland 7 days and Ireland 8 days.

We marched from the Camp to Amesbury and got a train at 9 am, arriving at Waterloo Station (London) at 1.05 pm -- it rained most of the way down and is very wet in London.
On reaching London ( or Waterloo ) we were told that we had to go for a lecture on ‘how to behave in London’, but any persons who had to catch a country train could break off -- so we broke off pretending we had to go up country.
By doing this we were able to go to the A.I.F. War Chest Club and have dinner before the others had finished their lecture.
In the afternoon we went to Westminster Abbey, which is a very beautiful place -- we also saw the Roman Catholic Church (the new one) which is 400 ft. (122m) in height. In the evening we went to Kings Cross railway station and caught a train at 9.30 pm for Scotland, this trip taking a little over ten hours.
When we were about 60 miles (96km) from Edinburgh we came right along the beach and it was lovely to see the hills and fields of corn (nearly ripe) on one side and the broad sea on the other.
Just as the sun began to rise you could see the smoke rising from the chimneys, and then as we went on and the day grew -- you would see them (the people) just getting out to work, and before we had reached Edinburgh the day had begun and everything was getting busy.
On reaching the Station we at once began to see if we could get breakfast anywhere, and finally obtained some at the Railway Hotel -- but like London they were rationed and we hardly got enough to satisfy the Australian appetite.
But I said to my Pal ‘what about taking a teaspoon for a souvenir’ which I did -- but I think we paid for a good many teaspoons as we paid 5/- * for our breakfast.
We went to the Edinburgh Castle -- to get into the Castle you have to go through 12 steel doors which were to keep enemies out in past wars -- with the aid of a guide we were able to have a good look through the Castle.
There is a 20 ins* gun overlooking the western part of Edinburgh -- it is a very old fashioned gun and has not been used for many years -- it was made in Mons in the 16th Century. * 20 inches (approx. 50 cms) 5/- five shillings (approx. 50 cents)


First English Leave.

There is a little Church inside the Castle grounds -- it is about 8 ft long, 6 ft wide and about 12 ft high (2.4 x 1.8 x 3.6m) -- so it is not very large. After leaving here we went to Holyrood Palace -- it is a very old place and was one time the home of Mary Queen of Scots. Many of her belongings are still in the Palace -- including some of her playthings when she was a child.
From here we went to St Giles Church and Sir John Knox’s home -- in the latter place old historic things have been put for public inspection and you can also obtain little curios.
I got a very small book (supposed to be the smallest book in the world) it is the New Testament.
In the afternoon we went to the Firth of Forth Bridge -- we were told it was the largest bridge in the world -- it is 365 ft (110 m) from the surface of the water to the top of the bridge and 75 ft (23 m) from the surface of the water to the bottom (or base) of the concrete pillars on which it stands.
It is 1.75 miles (3 kms) in length and took 7 years to build, costing 3.5 million pounds. ($7m)
Being in Khaki we were given permission to walk across it -- a double railway line runs across it -- while we were crossing it we could see 120 warships of various kinds including some Submarines.
On arriving back at Edinburgh we had a few minutes to spare, so we climbed to the top of Scotts Monument which is 200 ft (61m) high.

At 6.30 pm we left for Glasgow -- where we arrived at 8 pm.
Glasgow is what may be called practically a Commercial town -- it has very big workshops situated on the Clyde river -- in the town itself it is quite common to see women drinking and smoking just like the men -- and even the little children too.
But some parts of the town are quite nice -- we saw a good part of Glasgow.

Sep. 4th we went to Loch Lomond and spent the best part of the day there. We went by steam boat right up one side of the lake and back the other -- leaving the little island in the centre. We then went back to Glasgow for tea, and caught a train for London that night.

Sep 5th we arrived in London at 7.30 am, having travelled overnight and after having some breakfast we went out to see the damage done by bombs that had been dropped during the night.
One bomb fell just between the big hotel Cecil and the Needle Monument. The hotel was being used for War Offices.
The Monument had several pieces chipped off its foundation -- but was not seriously damaged.
At 12.30 pm I left my mate who wanted to see his relatives at Sussex and I caught the Express to Bournemouth to see some relatives of friends of mine (in Australia). I’d never met them before and was beginning to wonder what they were like. It took just two hours to get from London to Bournemouth, a distance of 111.5 miles -- that is 55.75 miles per hour !* (* approx. 180 km travelling at 90 Km/h )

After a good deal of walking around I finally found ‘Tamworth’ the place I was looking for -- the two people I came to see are ‘old maids’ about 50 or a little more, and quite grey headed -- but nevertheless I had a good time, as they wanted me to see all there was in the town of Bournemouth.
I think it is about the prettiest place I’ve seen in England -- it is right on the sea-shore. I went to Poole (one of the Suburbs), then back through the gardens, and out to the Car Terminus on the other side of Bournemouth -- which is Christchurch.

Christchurch is noted for its wonderful Priory and the history of its erection. It is believed that while they were preparing to build it, they had a good deal of material on the spot where they intended to erect it -- but every night the material mysteriously disappeared and was taken to a place about two miles away.
This went on for some time and as they could not build where they had at first begun -- they decided to build it where the material had been carried to.
So they built it there, and called it Christchurch because they believed Christ had removed the building material.
It has been said that during the building of this Church there was always one more at work than there was on the payroll -- and before they had quite finished it they had to put some beams up for the roof.
There was one large beam they were unable to lift up one evening, so they left it for the next day. But when they came in the morning it was up and put in its right place -- it had been done overnight, but by whom it was never found out.
The beam is to be seen there to this day -- my friend pointed it out to me and explained just what I’ve written -- but I could hardly take it all in.
It was incidentally, built by the Romans in the 16th century.
I left to return to Camp but on reaching Salisbury Station I found that I had 3 hours to wait for a train to Amesburg -- I got back to Lark Hill at midnight.

From Sep. 7th till Sep 27th I was doing gun drill and gun laying -- on the 27th we had an examination and gun laying test, which I managed to pass quite easily.

Sep 28th transferred to Signalling School No 5 Camp.
While here we had to do a good deal of work with our Gas Helmets.
A Gas Helmet is made of leather and lined with pure rubber with two places covered with a material like glass through which you can see -- it has a bridle arrangement over top of your head to stop it coming off. We had two kinds of Helmets -- but only one is used in the field.
Lark Hill Camp is a terribly cold place and many Australians died here last year, so they have decided to move us all off the plains after the winter.


Oct. 14th we left Lark Hill en route for Heytesbury -- a camp about 8 miles from Lark Hill -- after marching through a small place called Shrewton we came to Chitterau, where we had dinner and soon found a nice orchard close by where we helped ourselves to some apples.
We got to Heytesbury at about 4 pm and after we got some straw for our beds we had tea and soon tested our straw -- next day we had to do checking work for the Quartermaster of the Camp.
It is very pretty here with woods and forests all round -- we went to Warminster -- about 4 miles (6.5km) away, it is in absolute darkness on account of enemy aircraft.
There is a beautiful wood just near our Camp and every night just about dusk, many thousands of rooks come flying in for shelter.

Nov 11th we were warned for overseas draft and had to go before the Doctors for a medical examination -- the Doctor would just ask you if you felt well. And if you said ‘yes’ -- well that was it.
We were issued with gas masks and waterproof capes and had to test our masks in gas -- we had to be shut in an airtight room full of gas and see if our mask would let any in.

Nov 17th we leave Camp at 7.30 am and march to Codford, then by train to Southampton and on to the boat.
Our boat is the ‘Archangel’ and we leave Southampton at 7.30 pm and after about an hour’s run, anchored -- then off again at full speed across the channel to France.








November 1917

Nov. 18th we arrived at Le Havre at 4.30 am, then marched about 7 miles (11km) to Camp -- along the way the little French children were running alongside us saying ‘Biss Kiet’ ‘Biss Kiet’ meaning biscuit -- the poor little blighters looked half starved.
We bought some French bread, which was not half bad, especially when you are so hungry as we were, and we also got some apples.
It is all mud from the town to the Camp and when we arrived there was to be no leave.
Our first duty was to test our gas masks again in a Chamber. We were then issued with one blanket -- a steel helmet -- a sheep skin vest, some foot pads and some underwear.
There are about 20,000 men in this Camp and it is fun to see them on General Parade -- as soon as they hear the orders read they just walk off, and are nearly all gone before they have finished reading out the day’s orders and duties.
No one seems to care for the Officers or anybody else.
We have a little tent which holds eight men -- but have to put 16 in it, so it is just a matter of walk in and lay down with all your clothes on, as there is little room for any other arrangement.

Nov 19th we were warned for draft to the front -- draw 50 rounds of ammunition and have a route march to a place called Monte Villiers. It was in this town that Joan of Arc made her final stand against the English.

Nov 21st we had a route march to Monte Villiers and back before 11 am -- that finished our morning’s work.
I met C.J.Stevens and spent the evening with him.

Nov 22nd leave camp at 10 am for Le Havre, arriving at the station and boarding the train at once.
We pulled out of the station at 4 pm -- it was entertaining watching our fellows with the French bread, loaves about two foot long, but very good eating.

We travelled very slowly through the night, and met a hospital train on the way in, with a lot of casualties on board.
For sleeping, two of our carriage mates laid down in the corridor, one on the luggage rack -- two on the floor and three on the seats -- some boarding house!

Nov 23rd the country looked much the same as England -- very barren -- we eventually arrived at a place called Kasel, where we spent the night.

Nov 24th we left Kasel at 10 am per Motor Lorry for Stienwierck Divisional Ammunition Column, where we waited until 2.30 pm for wagons to take us to the 8th Brigade Field Artillery Headquarters.
From here I was attached to the 108th Howitzer Battery, and finally reached the Battery wagon lines at 6 pm.
In the distance we could hear the guns firing -- we are about 6 miles (9.5 km) from the front.
Wagon Lines, is the name of the place where the teams of horses are kept and all the ammunition wagons along with the limbers of the guns.
At the wagon lines you will always find a Capt. in charge and then a Sgt. Major -- all the drivers live here, except when carting ammunition to the guns.
Each Battery has to cut their own chaff for the horses and a hand chaffcutter is supplied to each Battery -- the hay is bought to the wagon lines every day by men from the Army Service Corps.
The job of cutting the chaff nearly always falls to any gunners who happen to be down from the guns.
Each Battery has approximately 160 horses divided up into -- Right -- Left and Centre sections, and also Officers Mounts.
Each Section consists of two guns -- four ammunition wagons (each carrying 48 shells) -- 18 Drivers -- 20 Gunners -- 7 Signallers -- 2 Sgts. -- 3 Cpls. -- 4 Bombardiers -- and one Officer.
Besides these there are, to each Bty -- a Major (Officer Commanding) one Lieutenant, one Sgt, one Farrier Sgt, one Veterinary Sgt, one Saddler Sgt. -- Quartermaster Sgt. -- four Cooks and a Cooks’ cart Driver -- Water Cart and Driver and a Canteen Attendant (some Batteries have canteens of their own -- which ours did.)
Each section has to keep their horses separately -- a section is divided into two Sub-Sections
The wagon lines are always about 5 to 7 miles* away from the front line and are very seldom under shell fire -- needless to say there are always a lot of ‘Duds’ at the wagon lines (men who seldom or never go to the firing line). Later on I’ll try and describe the characteristics of the wagon lines, as I am going into the firing line tonight, and of course I am looking forward to see what we left Australia for (war).
* (8 to 11km)
We arrived at the line just in time for breakfast -- then we were given our day’s orders -- the dugout we are in is about 18 ft x 10 ft x 6.5 ft (5.5m x 3m x 2m) in this we have to do our work, have our meals and also sleep -- it is somewhat complicated, nevertheless it is preferred to being exposed to shell fire. We are quite content to live the life of a rat at times.

When a Battery is in action the guns are in a line about 10 yards (9 m) apart -- there are 6 guns to each Battery -- they are very often (or always when possible) dug down into the ground and just have a small place through which the barrel is pointed so that it can be fired. They must be always kept under cover of some kind, otherwise the Hun would be able to find our position from aeroplanes.

From here on when we are in action, the place we are in will always be called ‘position’ or ‘possie’ meaning the position of our Battery.
In this possie, which is just off the road from Messines to Armentieres we have a good place, quite concealed from enemy land observations.

The gunners always have to sleep near the guns -- but the Officers at this possie have a deep tunnel -- but it keeps getting filled up with water -- so a pump is needed to keep it out, they also have a little engine to produce an electric light

The Signallers always make their dugouts away from the guns, (about two to three hundred yards) (180m - 280m) because the noise of the guns makes it difficult to use the telephone.
On this position, we are at about three hundred yards from the guns.

At every Battery position the Signallers are responsible for erecting and maintaining telephone lines from -- our own dugout to the Officers dugouts -- to the guns -- to Headquarters -- to the nearest Battery and to the Observation Post (O.P.) These lines are essential and sometimes we have extras as well.

We will begin with the work of the Signallers -- first in our own dugout, we have an exchange board with all the above mentioned lines attached, which enables us to take and receive calls from all areas. Being an exchange, we can get on to any unit within many miles. There must be a Signaller on duty at all times and he often gets plenty to do, answering calls and taking messages from various parts to be handed on to our Officers.
Each Signaller only does two hours at the exchange before being relieved for several hours -- we have a system of working as follows.
Eleven men on the position.
Three go to the Observation Post (forward) One to the tunnel (or guns). These fellows when they are relieved, do not do work on the exchange during the night because they don’t get any sleep while on O.P. and guns for 24 hours -- but they go on exchange next day and three of those that were on exchange duties the previous day, go to O.P. The man from gun duty does first shift at the exchange, which is over by midnight, then he goes off to bed till 10 am next day.
We do Brigade O.P. every second day, which means each Signaller gets 24 hours continuous working once a week.

Of course a person couldn’t stand more than that, because every night’s sleep is broken by having to do two hours on the exchange.

Every message which is sent to our Officers must first be given to the Signaller on duty at the exchange -- hence the Signallers know just as much as the Officers do about what is to be done.
On an average we get about twenty written messages every day and about 200 verbal messages are transferred -- very often it can be almost double that number -- but we do have some quiet days.
When a message is taken, we have to count the number of words and answer it all back to see if it is correct -- we must also sign our name to each message, along with the time we received it -- where we received it -- and who sent it.
We then ring up the Officer and read it over to them before putting it away in a specially supplied folder in case it may be wanted later.
While a Signaller is on duty at the exchange he cannot leave it,no matter what happens, unless he gets permission from Headquarters.

A Battery of guns is always behind the firing line by about 2,000 to 10,000 yards (1840m - 9200m) according to the size of the guns. Our guns were about 2,000 yards behind ‘no man’s land’-- and of course it was necessary to go up to the front line to see the positions and parts that we wanted to hit.
The enemy line was never (or not very often) within sight of the guns, otherwise they would have seen them being fired which would of course give our position away.

By going into the front lines, and by the aid of field glasses we could observe our shots and send word back to the Signaller at the guns to tell him where the shot fell -- the Officer would then issue a new gun range and keep on adjusting until the right target was hit.
Once on target, several shots would be fired at the same spot, sometimes causing a lot of damage.

An Observation Post is always on a high hill and mounted so that we can see a good distance to each side and in front -- we have to stand very still while looking over enemy lines because he has men doing the same.
This can be quite dangerous because if they see us they will shoot at once -- and sometimes they don’t miss either.

The men that fire the guns very seldom (many of them never) see any of the shots that they fire, actually burst. But when we are in the front lines we see them quite plainly, and can also see the enemy getting along in their trenches.

To Register a gun -- two Signallers and one Officer go to the O.P. and the Gunners get the gun ready -- when we get to the O.P. we give them what distance we think the target is away and tell them to fire one shot -- when it falls and bursts it may be a little way to one side of where we wanted it -- we then give them an order to fire another one, and keep going until we hit the target.
When this is done the Sgt. of the gun writes down the distance -- what deflection was needed, and what kind of shell was used.
He then gives the target a code name such as ‘Biddy’ ‘Kate’ ‘Ruby’ or anything like that. Then if we get an order from Headquarters to fire 50 shots at ‘Biddy’-- say at midnight -- well the Signaller on exchange duty just rings up the Signaller at the guns, who in turn orders to fire 50 rounds on ‘Biddy’. Of course the gunners just look at the card of ‘registered targets’ and in a second they know what range and deflection -- and fire away.
The shells will thus be falling on the target without anyone being at the O.P. observing or correcting.

Once a gun has been ‘Registered’ it can be kept for several weeks without correction -- but each new target must be so registered before any shooting can be done on any given object.
It can be very deceiving -- a target away in the distance may seem quite near sometimes and again another, equally as near, may seem a good distance off. So everything must be done by correct map measurement, and very often, or nearly always, the men at the guns never see what they are firing at, nor do they have a need to.

Nov 28th I am on ‘Brigade O.P.’ on this duty there is one Officer and three Signallers -- we do 24 hours at this post and our work is to register as many of the enemy gun positions as we can find.
From our position we can see quite a number of enemy gun flashes at night and by the aid of a ‘director’ we can measure off the distance that they are from us -- and also the angle at which they are from us.
We can then get our guns to fire a good number of shots on their position and are quite successful in blowing up a number of enemy guns and ammunition dumps.
The country in front of us is very thickly populated and many towns can be seen including Lille, which is well noted for the misery caused to civilians by the German Soldiers.
Directly in front of us is the town of Warneton -- practically ruins -- in this town a big tower (known as The Windmill) has been built by the Germans which they use for an ‘Observation Post’. Our guns often fire a good many shots at it to try and blow it down -- but nothing has resulted by it.
On our left flank just within our lines is the well-known place of Messines, and the large holes caused by the explosions when it was blown up last year.
The Brigade O.P. is on Hill 63 -- another place well known for the heavy battles fought there last year.
We are in a small concrete dugout originally built for a machine-gun pill box, it is 6 ft x 5 ft (1.8m x 1.5m) and in this, four of us have to have our meals and sleep -- it is rather a little complicated but better than being shelled.

Nov 30th We had to lay a telephone line from Battery Headquarters to the forward O.P.
We left our Bivvy at 8 am and after running our line and also mending a few cuts caused by enemy shells -- we eventually arrived at the front line at 11.30. The reason we are on this job, is because we are cutting barbed wire entanglements to enable our infantry to get into enemy lines and capture a few prisoners so as to ascertain what class of troops are opposing us.

This raid came off at 5 pm -- our guns fired a barrage from 5 pm till 6 pm, during which time our infantry hopped over and brought back 2 unwounded prisoners -- all of our boys that took part in the raid were wearing Tommie uniforms so that the enemy would think they were Tommies. Our casualties were very light -- on going back to our dugout we passed a place where five of our boys were killed with one shell, and twelve others were wounded. Four of them were still lying there when we came along -- our Sgt. asked me if I had seen any men killed before, and I said ‘No’ -- he reckoned I didn’t seem to take much notice of it, adding that if these were the first he had seen he would have fainted at such a sight.
Some of them were actually cut to shreds -- but it was just what I’d expected so never noticed it out of the common -- for such it became during the months that followed a very common occurrence indeed.

Dec 1st A second raid was carried out at 1 am this morning, our fellows got one prisoner -- causalities slight.
I am Mess Orderly today.
We have about 300 yards (275m) to go to the Cook House but not much danger of shells, as we are well concealed.
About a quarter of a mile from here is a ‘Catechem’ -- a large tunnel about 70 ft (21m) underground -- it will hold about 3,000 men -- it was dug by our Engineers just prior to the blowing up of Messines, the latter being about a mile to our left flank.
We got the loan of the Officers Gramophone tonight so we are having a little music below the surface while the drum thumps overhead (shells I should say).
We each had a parcel from the Red Cross today -- mine was a packet of cigarettes and a pair of socks with a small packet of boracic powder, along with a short note from Mrs. Hayes of Colac Victoria.
The socks were very much appreciated as most of us have our toes hanging out of ours.
Letters were also distributed.

Below is what I had in my letter from Beryl Worley.

‘I have no doubt that you will
come through all safely,
but if at any time you feel
your own weakness
just look above and I am sure
strength will be given you.’
Beryl.

No truer words were ever spoken -- and there was never a place in which a truer consolation from this was ever found.

Dec 2nd I am on Tunnel duty today -- this lasts 24 hours.
We had a very quiet time -- no enemy shelling and we only fired 300 shells during the night -- half of this was gas.

Dec 4th 3.30 pm On duty at forward O.P. a huge shell fell quite close to our dugout (about twenty yards away) and cut all our
Telephone wires except one. We had a light snow fall this morning.
Our aeroplanes brought down two enemy planes -- one fell in flames and the other one fell behind his own lines.
Ten German balloons of a pear shaped description came overhead and dropped clouds of papers, but we did not get any as we could not get out of our dugout, and none fell close enough.

Dec 5th The 31st Battery were shelled out of their position today -- we could see them quite clearly from the O.P. -- causalities very light.
We ran an electric light wire from the tunnel to our Battery today -- it’s just the thing -- better than candles.

Dec 6th More papers were dropped today -- we got some this time -- they were printed in three languages indicating a big German victory all along the Italian front. Their idea of dropping these pamphlets is to demoralise the Allied troops.
France. Dec 1917.

There was a beautiful frost this morning, which covered the ground and the guns nearly all day.

Dec 8th mail today -- received 25 letters, some which were over six months old.

Dec 12th our planes brought down an enemy ‘Gotha’ aeroplane. The Gotha is mainly a bombing plane and cannot fight so well as the smaller planes. Ten of them came overhead and began bombing, but our planes got after one and fired, following it until it was set on fire and fell in many pieces, reaching the ground a total wreck.
The others managed to get back over their line again, and never continued the bombing.

Dec 14th An ‘Albatross’ aeroplane was brought down today.
We are expecting the enemy over tomorrow morning and everything is prepared for him. All mail despatches to be stopped for a few days.

Dec 17th Has been quiet for a few days. Fritz didn't come.
I am on exchange duty today in a place named (L.H. ).
There are about 200 Telephone wires to all parts of the sector connected here. It is in a tunnel on Hill 60 just above the big Catechem.

Dec 18th Mail allowed out today, but no parcels to come in until after Christmas.

Dec 20th it’s a terrible cold day -- it began to freeze at about 2 o’clock this afternoon and the whole place is just white, the sun never shone all day and snow is falling thick.
A new Division (2nd Australian) takes over our position today and we are to go out for a rest. I was relieved at L.H. by one of the 104 Howitzer Battery Signallers and was not sorry to get away neither.

On the way back to the Wagon lines the whole countryside where the timber is growing looks beautiful -- there are icicles about 1.5 inches (approx. 4cm) long hanging from even the tiniest little limbs -- it just looks like a huge field of almond trees in bloom.
Just as we were leaving the trenches the Huns began shelling our position with gas. Our Corporal and I were standing up on top of the dugout and a big piece of shell fell down between us and went about two feet (610cm) in the ground -- we moved away at the trot.

Dec 21st the remainder of our Battery pulls out from the line.
The only casualties we have is two men gassed. The men who relieved us had a casualty before half an hour on the line -- he was hit just over the temple. They left the position about 11 am -- Fritz was sending over a few Gas Shells but not much damage was done.
They arrived at the Wagon lines at about 1 pm.

Dec 22nd we left the Wagon lines and marched to Granada near Steinwerk -- there are a few civilians here and we can get a decent drink of coffee and some fruit. We went into town in the evening to see a play by our ‘Anzac Coves’ it was quite good.

Dec 23rd We are to have Christmas here, and today being Sunday, we are proudly informed that we are to remain in the stables and not have a half day holiday, because we will have it on Christmas day.
I have a horse to attend to -- and a very dopey kind of thing it is too.

Dec 25th First Parade is at 6 am (nearly daylight) feed and water the horses -- then feed ourselves. Next Parade at 11 am -- groom and feed horses which takes till 12.30 then we are dismissed.
Dinner at 1 o’clock -- this being the main item of the day, and passed off much better than might have been expected.
The Menu consisted of two kinds of soup, cold ham, corned meat and potatoes, sauces, pickles, plum pudding, stewed fruit, all kinds of nuts, dates, lollies, cigarettes, cigars, plenty of Bock (French beer), lemon squash and mineral water. Return serves could be had!

When dinner was over, there was plenty of everything left and many of the lads spent the whole afternoon trying to finish off the Bock, and a pretty sight some of them were before night. We thought that we were going to have a half holiday -- but had to parade and feed the horses at 3.30 pm.
The Anzac Pierriots (Concert Party) came to our marque and gave a short concert in the evening -- it was rather very much appreciated.
Our Cooks got well soaked with Bock, so we had no tea -- but we helped ourselves to all we wanted.

Dec. 26th Snowing all day and ditto for 5 days during which time we groomed, watered and fed horses and rattled our teeth together -- those who like snow, let them have it for mine.

Jan 1st 1918. Nothing special today except a half holiday, went for a walk into Steinwerk.

Jan 2nd went to see a pantomime play by the Anzac Coves, it was very good.

Jan 3rd Chaff cutting -- each Battery has a chaff cutter (hand machine) and we have to take turns about cutting chaff -- it is no small item when three men have to cut enough chaff for 162 horses, it is quite a good day’s work.

Jan 5th left Granada and marched to Strazelle, snowing very heavily and ditto for about a week -- then froze hard and you could walk only where it was level -- just like walking on glass.

Jan 12th I was Mess Orderly and while I was washing up I saw Beav Rake * and I ran after him -- but he could not stay long, so I walked with him to the station and he had to hurry on, as the train was just moving out.

* Spr T.B.Rake, Sig Sec 13th A I Bgd Hqurs, France, no.15938

Jan 13th went to Steenji -- left my pony there for the 3rd Div.Sig.Co.
I went through Merris and Balveille -- raining and snowing --

Jan 15th went to Div Dentist -- and some Dentist too, believe me -- it took him about 15 mins. to fill two teeth.
We got washed out of our billets today and went into a shed close by, so it was our little grey home in the west now for a while.
One of our Signallers went on leave and we collected enough money between us to get a gramophone and 24 double records.

Jan 26th we were visited by the Gen. Officer Commanding -- and our Officers and N.C.O.’s are very windy (terribly frightened). Our Gun Park was all covered with water and mud several inches deep, and we had to parade and mount our guns and horses several times -- and then the G.O.C. said we ought to be ashamed of ourselves for having such dirty boots -- but we took little notice of him and when he rode away we counted him out. (* to ‘count out’ -- the men would count out aloud as the officer in question was leaving, in a united sign of protest.)

We had to do a route march of about twenty miles as the result -- we had to march from Strazelle to Monte Bois, past Nieppe wood.
This is a most lovely wood and thousands of tons of timber have been cut to make trenches. After a 5 hour march we got home -- had dinner en route.

Jan 31st Orders to march into action, and after passing through Bailluel, we went to the same part of the front that we had been on before, (Ploegsteert). Saw Stan Brown.

Feb 3rd Forward O.P. duty today -- this is in the front line -- a raid was carried out last night on our right flank -- we are preparing for a stunt on a small scale -- we have been wire cutting all day -- there is a special shell for this duty called shell with 106 fuse, it bursts as soon as it touches anything and hardly makes any hole in the ground -- but it is very effective on the surface.

Feb 7th Mess orderly -- just bringing food down from cook house.
A lot of shelling done by Fritz in the evening.

Feb 8th Nice day -- Fritz shelling a little -- 6 th Brigade Artillery pull in with us for a stunt which is expected very soon.

Feb 9th Wire cutting -- tunnel duty at night.

Feb 10th Raid carried out at 10 pm. I was on gun phone duty for the battle -- but did not get much shelling -- we got 32 prisoners, 8 dead and three machine guns -- and our casualties were 4 killed and 12 wounded -- with one officer missing.

Feb 19tth we are having very cold weather and a good deal of enemy shelling today -- Lamp Signalling duties. Alma’s birthday.

Feb 21st I went to (88) 31st Battery with a map board and I met James Moore, an Adelaide fellow that was in Melbourne with me -- plenty of Minnie Werfers today -- a Minnie Werfer is a huge shell about the size and shape of a ten gallon keg.
It is very effective for blowing up trenches -- but can only be fired short distances -- so is always confined to the front line or supports.
We have shells similar to these -- and we call them plum pudding -- ours are perfectly round about the size of a small tub -- there are also smaller ones, which can be fired at much greater distances.

Feb 26th I was sent back to the wagon lines for a few days rest -- one of our Signallers (Kennedy) was wounded today.
We had a call out tonight and I went as an ammunition carrier up to the front line -- I didn’t have to go, but some of our drivers had been working day and night, so I went in place of one.

Mar 3rd Exercise the horses this morning. Went out in the evening with Cockburn, my mate who came down from the guns today.



Mar 4th A raid was carried out last night with even losses -- the enemy was waiting in no man’s land for our boys -- he had evidently got news that there was going to be a raid.

Mar 8th we went to the guns to truck 1200 shells into the gun pits.

Mar 10th went to 7 Bat Hdqrs and saw Joe Vockings, and of course we talked of old times when we enlisted, and in fact everything and all the people we could think of -- it was late when I arrived back at our wagon lines.

Mar 12th we were relieved today and marched to Bay Sule near Bailleul for a rest -- it is a very good camp, but we are to do drill just as when we first went into camp, and I tell you we have all got sore heads over it -- but I am to go to a Signal School, so hope that won’t be quite so bad.
The Signal School is in the town of Bailleul and we are camped in the old courthouse right in the square -- but we are not too comfortable as Fritz just put a shell into the town and killed a dispatch rider.
The fellow was travelling about 20 miles per hour (32 km/h) and the shell (a large one) fell right under his machine -- all that was found of him was an arm hanging to the guttering of a two storied house -- and his gas mask lying about fifty yards away.
Bailleul is full of Civilian people, and when the shells fall, they run off out of the town carrying just whatever they happen to get hold of first. Often you will see women carrying little children only a few days old -- they stay out of the town all day and come back at night.

Mar 13th went into town for the evening -- got a knife and fork for a souvenir.

Mar 14th meet Beav Rake at the Camp.

Mar 15th gun drill in the morning -- start Sig. School tomorrow --
Fritz shelled Bailleul, killing a driver and a Civilian.

Mar 16th went to Sig. School in Bailleul -- saw where the shells fell yesterday -- killed 3 cows, several pigs and just about wiped out the farm. Bailleul is a fair sized place, the local folk mostly French and Belgium.

Mar 17th went to Merris to see Beav Rake -- got back about 9.30 pm.

Mar 19th raining nearly all day -- enemy shelling the town -- Civilians leaving.

Mar 20th half holiday -- went to Battery for day -- plenty of enemy shells.

Mar 21st a good deal of shelling going on -- several families are to be seen running out of the town, others seek cellars and so on.

Mar 22nd we were ordered to leave town by 6.30 owing to heavy shelling -- Civilians are nearly all left -- one of our Signallers was missing and some of us began looking for him -- just as we left our camp a shell fell in front of us and killed some Civilians and wounded several others including an old lady who could hardly walk and a young girl was badly wounded. We passed here and almost immediately another shell fell and crashed into a café -- all the girls had run down the cellar when the first shell had hit -- and just as well, because five Australians who were in the café were killed, but the girls were buried in the cellar and it took a good while to get them out, whereas the five Australians were picked up in pieces.
We never found the chap we were looking for, so we went back to the Courthouse and reported it -- and just as we were preparing to leave, the fellow came down the street and was carrying a man’s scalp in his hand -- when he got to us he threw it down and said ‘does anyone know this fellow?’ The fellows just laughed at it -- it’s amazing how a Soldier gets to regard such things in such a cool manner.

France. Mar 1918.

Mar 23rd We had a football match today and were about half way through when a dispatch rider came galloping onto the field and asked for our Adjutant -- as soon as the Adj. read the message he called out for every man to return to his unit and prepare for battle, as the Germans had broken through the British lines and were advancing at a good pace on a 50 mile (80km) front.
Now to anyone that has not seen any fighting, perhaps this does not appear to be much -- but to those that have done fighting it means quite a different thing -- as soon as we heard this news we ran straight to our billets -- each one thinking where he was to go: if it was to any part of the front we knew, or a strange place.
Thinking also of all the dear ones we had left behind -- hoping that we might come through, and anxiously looking forward to the coming onslaught.
We packed our kits ready for battle and those of us who had more comforts than others -- they shared them -- knowing that we could only carry a limited amount on the march and in battle -- because this was not to be a battle as we had been used to fighting, but a fight in the open, and we felt superior to any troops at this kind of warfare and we felt sure of victory -- but we knew it would cost us many lives -- and we knew we could do better by lightening our kit.
A half an hour from when we were at football, and we were off at the trot toward the line -- but where, we knew not. At midnight we found ourselves at Maubeke and camped in a farm. Early in the morning we were off again -- not marching in column as at Parades, but each one helping himself then helping his mates -- without any orders from the Officers, we did our work.
That night after hard marching we reached ‘Aire’ This is a very clean place and it was full of troops, so we thought we were nearing the scene of battle -- but not so -- we left here early in the morning and Austreville was reached after a very weary day. Here we got news of Paris being shelled, and of course we took no notice of such talk. Next day found us well on our way by sunrise, and late at night we reached a small place called Humbercourt. We met thousands of Tommies running away from the enemy, saying,
‘look out chum, Jerry’s coming !’ we couldn’t get any of them to stop -- they were all running away -- we began to think we would have a very hard fight to stop the advancing enemy, because we were only about half strength in numbers and had only a very limited amount of shells.
Next day we arrived at Bonnay and not a single person could be found -- every town we passed en route was empty and plenty of food, horses -- sheep -- cattle -- pigs -- and poultry were just left as they were -- only starving. All the Civilians had left two days before -- all along the road were vehicles of various kinds laden with goods which the people were taking away, but could not get away quick enough -- some places the roadway was entirely blocked with them.
At Bonnay we were to await orders -- we had travelled about 140 miles and we were dead-beat and soon fell asleep, only to be awakened and ordered to march at once.
We were out and off in no time, cursing our luck with a smile and as soon as we moved off it began to rain and it simply poured down.
We were wet to the shins and the road was one mass of mud -- I had a push bike and had to carry it for miles -- we laboured on, and at daybreak we were ‘dug in’ just in front of the advancing Huns.
Nothing was done that day because we didn’t want them to know we were there -- but at night we worked hard and fast knowing daylight would bring a fierce battle in which we would have to face double our numbers and at a disadvantage -- but we did not mind that so much -- we still had the sight of Civilians being killed, and leaving home and everything behind -- so at daylight on Easter Saturday we were baptised in shells and mud.

Such a struggle I had never seen and will never forget -- I was forward with an Officer and we were on a little hill overlooking the Somme, and just on our right flank across the river was the main part of the battle and we could see it all.
We were to report if they broke our line -- and time after time I thought we would lose, but still our lads spoke death to hundreds with their shells and machine guns.

Time rolled on, and we began to feel more at ease as wave after wave of a black seething mass came rushing down the slope only to fall in front of us -- eleven times the Huns came afresh and eleven times we withstood our ground -- each time with less men and yet each time with more confidence -- a great mantle of smoke hung overhead all the time of battle, and an aeroplane came below the smoke and flew just over the enemies’ head -- a shell struck it and it fell in flames.

At 11 am we felt safe and left our position to bring news back to our Battery -- as we neared the guns an enemy shell fell between us and Force, (a Signaller) fell to the ground. I grabbed him thinking he was hit, but it was only the concussion that had felled him.
We moved off quickly and just as we reached the brow of a hill, looking down we saw our gunners hard at work -- an enemy shell fell just behind A Batt sub gun and Sgt. Fitzgerald fell to the ground -- ‘wounded’ someone said, but a fellow had reached him now and said ‘no he’s dead.’
A whiter man never lived a better life, nor died a better death.
The gunners worked harder now as if to have revenge -- the guns became hot, and shells fell thicker and closer -- still our guns barked out.
At last the enemy shelling stopped and our men stopped as well -- our Officer came running out telling them to keep on firing -- but alas, we never had a single shell left to fire.
The Officer that was with me, went to the Headquarters to tell them that the enemy advance had ceased -- ‘Harry’ he said ‘thank God we had just enough shells to do it.’
We had no communication lines and therefore we were all alone and knew not where to get shells -- but the enemy had run out of shells too, and we knew that we were more than equals with the bayonet.

Not many people in England nor Australia knew how near we were to loosing that Battle -- it only meant that we won it, because the enemy did not have any ammunition -- if he had, and us with none -- we were finished.


The following is a poem written in the main diaries in Cecil’s handwriting and attributed to one Harry Turnbill. It deals with the preceding battle and the events leading up to it.
In one of the smaller diaries there is a poem in a similar handwriting about the ‘Australian Politicians of the Day’ which has been signed: J.Turnbill. This is to be found in the latter section of this book..
It seems clear that they were both composed by the same person.

The Easter 1918 Retreat. (Harry Turnbill)
(1)
In Bailuel town our school was hell
Until it was too heavily shelled
The town was gay until the Huns
To murder civilians had begun.
Little children with frightened faces
Fondling in their mothers’ embraces
But the worst of all was to be seen
Where the burst of heavy shells had been.
(2)
All was gay awhile before
Now streets are sprinkled with gore
Little they knew of the fleeting shell
And less they thought until it fell
A dear little child coming home from school
Will never more stoop at it’s mother’s stool
(3)
We were standing on the balcony looking down
Someone below cried ‘Soldiers leave the town’
Our kits we immediately began to pack
And a few minutes saw us on the track
Fer Fay we passed in the early hours
And later Pernes with gigantic Towers
In Doullens we were very much shocked
For by retreating Tommies we were blocked.
(4)
The traffic was dense very often standing still
But eventually that night we reached Austreville
There we passed St Pol and the grand old Fort
And finished our day at Humbercourt
We were told wild stories by the Tommies here
And they made us believe the Hun was near.
(5)
In Morlincourt next day nobody we found
So we made it our camping ground
Our guns were at Bonnay a little further on
The Tommies said their guns was gone
In the morning we were surprised to find
We were still several miles behind the line
At midnight we pushed on and just at dawn
Came face to face with the Hun on Good Friday morn.
(6)
Easter had come and with it had brought
A battle of which we little had thought
But all Australians are proud to say
Fritz’s march on Amiens was stopped that day
The Somme is pretty but we must not forget
That Australian blood once made it wet.

(7)
The world will forget all of those
On the Somme we laid
But the world will never forget
The name they made.

As a token of thanks for what the Australians did in this battle a little monument has been built in the town of Amiens.
If the enemy had won this battle it would have given him a good position, as he would have cut the north of France off from the South and fought each one to itself -- thus gaining the victory.

What an Easter to think of -- Sunday was spent in burying the dead and though we were in sight of each other, no one fired a rifle even -- we had lost 9 out of our Unit of 42 and we were lucky comparing with other Units around us.
We were still without shells, but worse than that we were still without food as our rations had expired also. We were ordered to use all the food we could find that had been left behind by Civilians.
We did -- and had plenty of everything -- fowls -- pet rabbits -- geese -- sheep and all suffered alike, and we had an Easter feast after all.

It was two days before we got in a supply of shells, and by that time we were well established with communication wires laid to all Units, and we were now on a sound footing with trenches dug and wire entanglements galore.
The enemy was well established too, and although we made slight attacks, we were unable to move them from their positions -- not that we really wanted to -- but by making these small attacks the enemy thought we were strong in numbers and that is what we wanted him to think -- because in reality we were comparatively weak in numbers and ammunition too.

As time wore on we became more convinced that we had blocked his advance on Amiens and thus had ended (for a time) his advance on Paris.
Amiens is a large town and a very nice place -- all the people had left -- not a single person could be found anywhere -- the whole place was packed full of goods -- everything was just left in the shops -- of course the boys soon began to pollute the whole place and it was not until the troops were ordered to fire on them -- and some were killed -- that they would leave the town -- nobody was allowed in the town for many weeks -- and then the Civilians came back and the town became its old self again.
The old Cathedral was hit several times by enemy shells but not seriously damaged -- the Central Railway Station was damaged a good deal -- we could see the town from our Battery position.

While up forward I heard that a big dugout had fallen in on top of five Signallers, and none came out alive -- it was an old French dugout made of timber, and it had decayed and of course would not stand heavy shelling.

April 2nd weather fine, but threatening -- quiet -- a large number of sheep have been turned into meat.

April 3rd enemy aeroplanes very active -- two of our planes brought down -- I went into the village of Kielly.

April 4th we were attacked on a narrow front today -- on our left some Tommy troops had just come into the line, and when the enemy made the attack, the whole crowd of Tommies ran away and we had to cover their front with our Artillery as well as our own -- the enemy broke through, but some New Zealand troops were sent in to help and soon we had regained our trenches -- then the Tommies came back again -- but the Heads marched them out of the line and sent some Scottish troops in to relieve the New Zealanders.

April 5th heavy bombardment of gas -- I had to go to the Observation Position, and had a warm reception -- I just managed to jump down into the trench when a 5 in (12.7cm) shell fell a few yards away -- it was near enough for me, and when I went down, the dugout the Officer asked me ‘where did that shell fall’ I said ‘it fell quite close to the O.P. and it has cut our wire to Headquarters’, so I had to go out and find the break. I went as fast as I could and just as I found it, another shell came very near, but I laid down in the hole made by the first one, then as quick as I could, mended the wire and tested it -- then made off for the trench -- just as I got there a Salvo came over and burst right along the front of us (a Salvo is a whole Battery of Artillery firing together -- a Battery is usually six guns).
Our Observation Post is in the edge of a thick wood, which is about 400 yds square (370 squ.m) -- the enemy seemed to have an idea that something of importance was in this wood and he kept firing on it at intervals.

April 6th line to O.P. cut, and out I goes on it -- I mended three cuts and tested it, and found it alright -- so I thought I’d walk on to the O.P.
As I was passing through the wood several shells fell quite handy, so I moved off to a flank and left the wood, thinking he would keep firing into it -- I got out in the open and walked right along the front of the wood -- and just as I was nearing the O.P. -- he sent over a Salvo of Whizz-bangs, and I fell flat on the ground -- as there was no protection anywhere -- as soon as they burst I jumped up and made toward the trench at full pace, but didn’t get into it before another Salvo fell and sent pieces of shell flying all round.
With Whizz-bangs you have to be very close to where they fall, or you won’t get hurt -- their effective powers are very local.
I found out afterwards that I had been under open observations of the enemy lines, and was being sniped with Whizz-bangs. I took good care I went through the woods each time after that.

April 7th heavy bombardment of gas -- our wires cut in many places -- Snipers very busy -- you have to be very careful because Snipers are always good shots, and seldom fire unless they feel sure of their mark -- but they often get disappointed, because sometimes when we are under observation, we get down in the trench and leave something poking up in the air a little way and they have a shot at it.

April 10th went to forward O.P. at 7 pm -- very quiet time -- wrote letters till 12.30 am then went on duty observing till 5.30 am.
When we got back to our Battery we were given the day off to rest -- we have been getting plenty of enemy shelling back at our guns but not much in the forward parts.

April 15th I was sent back to the Wagon Lines for a few days rest -- I went into a town called Corbie -- it is a good big town, and is well within range of the enemy and has been damaged a good deal.
I also went to Bonnay for a bath.

April 17th news came down from Battery saying they had been heavily shelled -- one man wounded, and Battery had to be moved to a flank.
Bdr. Ward (who was wounded) died. He is an elderly man leaving a wife and three children.

April 18th I returned to position to replace Bdr. Muir who has been sent away sick -- arrived at the Battery at 10 am.

April 21st 1918 German aeroplane brought down, Baron Von Richthofen was the pilot -- he fell near our guns -- it was a very interesting battle in the air -- both our airman and the enemy had fired all their bullets and the German plane was a fighting plane, ours was an observing plane -- the enemy tried time after time to run his plane into ours -- but he could not manage it, and they both circled round and round for several minutes and got lower and lower until quite close to the ground, and a fellow on the ground shot Richthofen in the breast. He fell with his plane and was quite dead when he was picked up -- he had a beautiful plane and he is said to be the best flyer Germany has. He has brought down 87 of our planes*. (* the official count is 80)


April 24th there was a heavy battle raging on our left (Albert). We were attacked this morning -- terrible bombardment of gas. It began at 4 am and continued until 7 pm -- our Battery had one casualty and a Battery about 50 yards (46m) from us had 26 men killed and wounded, leaving them with only 16 men to fire their guns -- many times the enemy rushed our front line -- but was unable to break through -- it is supposed to be the worst gas bombardment we have had -- it is terrible and the gas is lying like huge clouds of smoke -- later on in the evening a light wind sprang up and carried the gas clouds away, enabling us to get a good night’s sleep -- and well we needed it too, for a heavy gas attack is really cruel.

April 25th Anzac Day -- we were expecting the enemy to attack again today -- but everything is very quiet.

April 26th we were relieved today to have a rest -- we took our guns to a reserved position near Bonnay. We got orders to move back into the line but they were cancelled later -- we are camped near a small village and we can get chocolates, biscuits, and eggs (cooked) from some French people who are still living in the village.
Some French families would not leave their homes, because once they leave them they cannot go back again -- the French Government won’t allow it. So they hang on until they are shelled out.
We are to move a little further back tonight.

April 28th we are dug in to the side of a long winding cutting -- I have named the place ‘Rotten Row’ and you can see little dugouts all up the cutting -- just looks like a lot of Indian camps.
We stayed here from 28th till 8th of May, during which time we had to do Signalling practice.

We left ‘Rotten Row’ and went into action just behind the town of Mericourt -- we took over a position held by the 106th Howitzer Battery.

After the communication lines were all run we settled down, but not for long -- the enemy began shelling us with 8 in (20cm) shells and blew up 1,000 of our gas shells, so we had to leave the position for a few hours -- then we went back to our guns.
At about 8 pm the enemy began to bombard the whole place again, and most of the fellows went off to a flank to wait until he ceased -- but he was in earnest this time and continued -- all the men were permitted to leave the position except two Signallers and one Officer.
When a position is being shelled like this, if you were to go to a flank about 100 yards (90m), you would be away from the danger -- it is not like a bombardment right along the whole line -- because then you just have to stay and take your chances -- so all our fellows were allowed to move away to a flank.
My pal and I were left to attend to the telephone, and the Officer was in a dugout a little way from us -- he was very frightened, and after we had been there until every line we had was cut, except the one to his dugout -- I asked him if I’d go out and mend the wires, and he said that not on any account was I to go out in such a barrage.
So I said ‘well we can do no good here with all our wires cut’-- so asked him if we could leave the position and join the others -- but he said ‘no, we couldn’t get away without being killed’.

The barrage ceased a while and I asked him if we could go now -- but he refused, so I said ‘well we’ll be killed if we remain here!’ -- because we did not have any shelter, and he did -- suddenly the barrage fell much heavier and heavier until we could feel the ground shaking under us.
Just as the barrage was at its height, the Officer rang up and said ‘you can leave the position if you can get away.’
My pal said ‘we haven't got much hope now’ -- but it was certain we couldn’t last long there, so we decided to quit.

We planned to make for a deep trench about 150 yards (138m) up the hill -- as soon as we got up on top of the hole we were in, the entire landscape looked like a big fire with the flame from bursting shells -- we ran together until a shell fell right down between us -- we both fell, thinking we must be hurt, but I jumped up and called aloud to my mate -- I couldn't even hear my own voice.
I felt sure he was hit and tried to find him, but he was nowhere about, I then ran on to the trench and waited till the shelling had ceased, so that I could go and have a good look for him -- when to my surprise he came walking up the trench, and was very surprised to see me.
‘God Harry that was close!’ was all he said. * (* Harry was a nickname Cecil used at times.)
I never answered, but could hardly believe that a shell could fall so close and not hit either of us.

We had an Officer killed and several men wounded -- at dawn we moved our guns to a new position -- the old position had been located by the Huns, so we would not be able to remain there.

May 14th after establishing a new position, we were relieved by the 105 Howitzer Battery and returned to our wagon lines, arriving at about 6.30 pm.

May 15th we leave the wagon line for Bourdon via Querrieu -- Allonville -- Coisy -- Bertangles -- La Chasseur and Belloy.
At Bourdon we camped after having travelled 36 Km -- we are right on the bank of the River Somme.
The whole Bde. (4 Batteries) are camped together.

May 16th we left at 8 am and passed through Flixecourt -- Etoile -- Long -- Coquerel -- Pont-Remy -- Eaucourt and on to Epagne -- here we are billeted in a farmhouse.

This farm house was a big place -- the house and sheds were built in a square shape with a big vacant place in the centre, which they called the yard -- it was about 50 yards square (46 squ.m) and in the centre of it was a cesspool -- a place they used to put all the rubbish and the cleaning’s from the stables and pigsties etc. -- and it was a very sweet smelling place too, with the pigs nearly always wallowing in it, finding it very acceptable. Nearly all farms are like this in France -- we were sleeping in the loft over the stable -- having a good rest and hope to be here for about a month.
We were to have leave to go to Abbeville, but only Officers are allowed to go -- the men will not let that go on for very long -- we can go to the River Somme for swimming and often do -- we had a fellow drowned one day and that put an end to the swimming for a few days. He was from Queensland, Jack Cairns -- he had a brother in the Battery.

May 24th today we had 8th Bde Sports -- nearly all horse racing -- General Birdwood was here too -- there are a lot of the Women’s Aux. Army Corps near here and our Officers and N.C.O.’s were to have 20 of them to tea as visitors -- the Gunners and Signallers were not included in the feast because we were not good enough. Well I for one was glad it was not so -- when it came to tea time, the Officers had all the foodstuffs and plenty of drinks (intoxicating) laid out on a big tarpaulin, and before it was quite ready, some of the W.A.A.C. girls were drinking, and needless to say they soon got top heavy.
When they were at tea, two or three of the W.A.A.C.’s got into the middle of the spread and kicked and fought like tigers -- of course they couldn’t stand up -- so it was fated to most of the Tea.
One girl was trying to climb a tree but couldn't manage it, so she swore she would do it backwards, and there she was, standing on her head and hands with her feet up in the tree. At night the N.C.O.’s had to take them into Abbeville in a General Service wagon, as they were too drunk to walk -- a dozen of them couldn't stand even -- the Officers and N.C.O.’s were very sore over it, and we only needed to say ‘WAX’ to them and they would go stone mad.

May 25th leave to Abbeville granted -- Abbeville is rather a nice town -- but has been bombed a good deal -- you find all kinds of soldiers here -- this is also the Aust. 3rd General Hospital.
The W.A.A.C. headquarters are here and they have a camp with a barbed wire fence round it and are only allowed out a few at a time -- they look like a lot of prisoners shut up. Some of them really are notoriously feisty characters.
Another chap and I went to see the Cathedral, it is a very beautiful place and has not been hit by bombs yet.
Abbeville is about 30 miles (48km) behind the line -- but is often bombed by aeroplanes -- it is situated on the River Somme.

Sun May 26th Div. Races held today -- the biggest meeting held by British troops in France, Gen. Birdwood attended -- plenty of French Soldiers and Civilians, Australian Nurses and American troops.

May 30th Corpus Christie -- the enemy asked the allied troops not to bomb Cologne for today, and they didn't -- but Fritz took advantage of it bombed and shelled several of our Hospitals.

May 31st left Wagon Lines 10 am en route for firing lines -- left Epagne 10 am, I was on push bike (and 5 others) so we did not leave until two hours after the Column.
We passed Eaucourt -- Pont-Remy and into Long for dinner -- the Riverie -- then to Airaines -- then to Soues which is on the Somme Valley and a very pretty place.
We stayed here for the night and moved off at 8 am -- went through a small village and through Brielly to Amiens.
We arrived at our Wagon Lines at 6 pm at a place called Glisy -- we are to take over from the 111th How.Bty. -- a few shells fell near us and killed one man and 8 horses -- we are in a very pretty spot right on R. Somme bank.

Sun June 2nd four Signallers sent to position -- we have a good tunnel for our control board about 30 ft (9m) underground. We are situated just behind the well-known place called Villers-Bretonneux -- there are French troops on our right and Tommies on our left. I went with the Officers to Bde. O.P. and Battery O.P. the former being in the tower on a three storied building in front of Villers-Bretonneux -- there is a big cellar underneath.
After dinner I ran the Headquarters line -- I am in charge of the lines
(Telephone) my mate is away on a C.W. (Continuous Wave Wireless) set.

June 4th Mother’s Birthday.
We had an S.O.S. signal last night but don’t know why -- there was a windy Officer on O.P. and I think he must have been scared with the Very lights*, mistaking them for S.O.S. signal. (* a flare of varying colours, used to illuminate the battlefield at night. )

June 6th enemy plane brought down this morning -- a few shells falling near our Battery.

June 8th O.P. line cut this morning, and when I went out it had about 600 yards (550m) cut out of it -- enemy made an attack on Montdidier, but failed to break our line.

June 9th quiet, fine and warm -- cool change at night.

June 10th 12th Bde made an attack this morning advancing 300 yards (275m), capturing 212 prisoners 21 M. Guns 1T.Mortar and 1 Officer -- one of our own planes dropped six bombs near our guns -- French made an attack on our right and captured many hundreds of prisoners -- we made a raid last night, but without success owing to Colonel King giving wrong orders -- our guns fired too short and killed our own men.

June 12th a shell fell very close to our tunnel, killing one man and wounding one -- enemy very active -- plenty of shelling going on -- we expect an enemy attack any time, and we are firing day and night.

June 16th the expected attack never came -- fine but cold -- about 30 enemy aeroplanes went over bombing last night and again this morning -- four enemy planes brought down today -- heavy shelling and bombing on all sides -- we had one man wounded -- three reinforcement Signallers came today.

June 18th very quiet -- cold and wet -- got a Fritz helmet at Villers-Bretonneux.

June 22nd a raid was carried out tonight -- we captured a machine gun position killing 10 men and taking 7 prisoners.
Quiet for several days.

June 27th slight Artillery activity -- aircraft very active -- two false S.O.S. signals last night.

June 30th went to wagon lines for a bath.

July 1st Artillery very active -- I volunteered to hop the bags for ‘special work’ with Artillery Officers -- had to be ready at any moment.

July 3rd to report at 2 pm to Mr Richardson at 31st Battery -- don’t know whether we came to hop the bags or not.
After meeting our Officer we went to the front line -- my mate had a carrier dog and two carrier pigeons -- I had one lamp and a telephone.
As soon as it grew dark, we moved up for the stunt which began at daylight -- I expected we would go over the bags with the infantry, but we had to remain awhile, and then follow on, keeping up communications as required -- it was the 4th of July and some American troops took part in this battle. Our Artillery put down a very good barrage which lasted until the infantry were well into his front line -- then the barrage moved on -- the infantry following -- by 4.50 am we had obtained all of our objectives, then our guns fired smoke shells which made a dense fog of pure smoke, which hid our fellows from the enemy’s observations until they had been able to dig in. We had been just 1 hour 40 minutes. While the smoke barrage was on, the tanks came back unobserved -- one tank got hit and blew up.* (* although not previously mentioned, it appears that tanks were used in this foray. They were of limited use because of the trenches, and could only be used effectively in open areas.)

The enemy began a counter attack but failed to re-take his trenches -- the fourth Bde took 700 prisoners -- on our left flank the enemy made some headway -- but we threw up an S.O.S. signal and soon forced him back again. A counter attack was made against us again in the evening, but within ten minutes our Artillery opened up -- the whole front has been quiet since. Our prisoners amount to 1,500 -- also 100 machine guns and two field guns captured -- our casualties were not very heavy. I got back to my Battery at 4.30 pm and was asked to put in a report -- the next few days we were shelled a good deal, but that is always the way after a battle.

July 7th fine and warm -- scattered enemy shelling -- laid line and buried cable.

July 8th our infantry took several outposts today -- they met with little resistance.

July 9th our infantry captured several Machine guns today but no prisoners -- heavy enemy shelling in the evening with Blue Cross ** gas (** Blue Cross was one of several types of German gas used.)

-- We moved our guns forward about half a mile.

July 10th very quiet day -- thunderstorms and rain -- moved Battery forward to a position just behind Villers-Bretonneux.

July 12th I had an argument with our new Captain today and could have got him into trouble for accusing me of not doing my work in the manner he wanted it -- I did as I know was correct, and told him he would have to abide by our supervising Officer’s orders -- the trouble was through a lamp Signal Station of which I was placed in charge, and had to remain there for two hours.
Capt. Reeves ordered me (contrary to Headquarters) to send a message for him -- I did it, but he marked the message by an ordinary message mark, instead of an urgent marking -- I sent it, and of course it went through as an ordinary message and I got the blame for it, and took it for a while -- then I broke out and told him I would revert to a gunnery job and leave the staff, because apparently I was not good enough at my work.
The supervising Officer would not accept my transfer saying that I was one of the best Signallers on staff, and that I had experience under shell fire -- so it was that I remained with the Captain -- He told me not to get my back up -- and I told him it was not that -- but I did not like the manner in which he treated me.
I went back and told him I’d do it if he left me to do my work in the right way, otherwise I’d have to report to Headquarters -- he was as nice as could be after that -- and when he went to the front line he would always ask for me to go with him. In fact he always treated me like an equal in rank, except at ceremonial parades -- he was a very plucky fellow, and for that reason I liked him -- but he was a very flashy customer otherwise.

July 14th we were relieved by the 2nd div and we had to go across the Somme to relieve the 5th div -- we have two guns in 5' 9 gully (this is the position we were in at Easter time) -- it got its name because it was always very heavily shelled with 5 in (12.7cm) shells. We ran 3 miles of wire to the O.P.

July 16th enemy aircraft active -- we heard that he had begun his attack on a wide front, but failed to get through.

July 17th Artillery very active -- we went fishing on the Somme tonight in a little boat and got well wet -- got caught in a thunderstorm -- got no fish.

July 18th left our Battery position to take up our new position which was just behind the trenches and quite near to Sailly-Laurettte -- two of our guns were here, and four went into 5' 9 Gully -- we are to do an area gas shoot and then hide our guns from enemy view before daylight.

July 19th the gas shoot was from 2 am till 4 am -- after it was finished I had to run a wire back to 5' 9 Gully, and needless to say we collected some enemy shells after our gassing him for two hours.
He bombarded our support line very heavily, and kept it up for two hours.

July 22nd thunderstorms -- quiet day -- Slippery Dick firing over our position.

July 23rd position shelled during both day and night.

July 24th our Officers are like a lot of lunatics -- our C.O. is away on leave and Capt. Reeves is strutting about cursing anyone that happens to be within hearing -- we are expecting an attack, and of course the Captain is on pins and needles to know what to do. He was going to arrest several Signallers today for not having woken the orderly Officer in time to do a shoot.

We always have an Officer on duty, both day and night -- they take turns about and do 24 hours each -- during that time he is to be awake the whole time, and to take note of all that is done, and conduct any firing and receiving of ammunitions or foodstuffs.
Well on this particular morning, there was a special shoot to be done at 4 am -- and the Officer on duty has to be on the position during all shoots, but they very often used to give the Signaller on duty at the hours of shooting the list of rounds to be fired, and the name of targets on which they were to fire -- then the Officer would go to bed and the Signaller on duty would have to wake him if any special messages came through from Headquarters -- but otherwise the Signallers would conduct the shooting and report to Headquarters when it was finished. If anything serious was to happen the Signaller would not get into trouble but the Officer would be liable to Court-martial -- we knew this but evidently the Capt. never -- as will be seen.

On this morning of which I am speaking, the Officer was asleep as usual (Lt. Simpson was his name) and Barry Seymour, the Signaller on duty forgot to wake the Officer until two minutes to 4 am, and the shoot was to begin at 4 am, so of course our guns were several minutes behind time in firing. Needless to say the Colonel (King) rang up on the phone and asked the reason of the delay in somewhat terrifying tones, and I’d just relieved Barry to allow him to have some breakfast.
The Colonel asked who was the orderly Officer, and I told him it was Lt. Simpson, he then asked where was the Capt.-- I said he had gone down to have two Signallers put under arrest. ‘What for’ said Colonel King.
I told him I knew not, but if he would hang on to the phone for a minute I’d go and fetch the Capt.-- he did -- and I went to the position and called to Capt. Reeves, asking him to answer the phone -- and I dashed back to the exchange to overhear what took place.
As soon as Capt. Reeves took up his phone I said to Col.King
‘Capt. Reeves sir’-- and connected their wires and used the control connecting plug to hear them (we always did this when anything of importance was going on, and that is why we always knew as much as the Heads). This is what took place…
‘Is that you Capt. Reeves?’
‘Yes sir, who is speaking?’
‘Colonel King!’
‘Yes sir.’
‘What was the meaning of you not firing to time this morning Capt?’
‘Well sir it was the Signallers’ fault sir -- and I've just had them arrested.’
‘What for.’ said Colonel King.
‘Well sir they never woke the orderly Officer in time.’
‘Wake him! Wake him! did you say Capt. -- he should be awake when on duty! -- Wake him! -- What on earth do you mean?
I must have that Officer arrested Capt. Reeves and you also!
Look Capt. Reeves, release those Signallers at once -- it is their duty to attend to our communications and they have done their work.
It is you Officers that have neglected your job! See that they are released right away!’

By this time the Capt. had got his breath again and he said

‘Yes sir’.
And I laughed outright -- the Capt. heard me over the phone and he said ‘Who is on duty at the exchange?’
I pretended not to hear him so he rang me back, and I made a noise just as though I was picking up the phone and answered him.
He said ‘Who is speaking?’ -- I told him and he said ‘alright Taylor I thought it was Seymour’ (he has never been anything but a friend to me since the Villers-Bretonneux incident). ‘Just get me Simpson at O.P. I want to speak to him.’
I did, and Capt. Reeves told Simpson to come down to the Officers Mess -- so I never heard the conflict they had -- but the two Signallers were released at once and the Officer was placed under arrest for neglect of duty -- but was released again, as we were so short of Officers, and the whole case was pushed no further.

But the Capt knew that I’d overheard all he and the Colonel had said, and he knew too, that if the Signallers liked, they could have got all the Officers into trouble for being asleep when they were booked for duty -- and leaving that work to us -- so he said nothing about it.
But he must have told Lt.Watt -- because Watt came to our dugout and asked for me, but I’d gone out to repair a broken line to another Battery -- and when I got back, Watt had gone to the O.P.

We were very short of Signallers, so he had gone up with one of the Signallers who was on duty during the shooting, and of course he had had no sleep -- so I said that I would go up to relieve him, and stay there till midnight if no wires were cut anywhere.
No sooner had I got there, than Watt began to lecture me about my listening to the phone -- and I said I did listen, and told him it was my duty to listen for them to finish talking -- but he was very defiant, so I let him go for a good while and said very little in answer -- but there is an end to everybody’s endurance, and mine was at an end before he had gone too far.
We all thought he was a bit simple -- he had been wounded on the head and that was what made us think he was daft -- and I knew this.

When any Soldier is alone with an Officer, either one can use whatever language they like, and cast what slurs they wish, neither being able to complain unless a witness is about -- with us there was no one at all, so I thought I’d give him a little piece of my mind, and I did. He shut up like a book when I told him that Jack was as good as his master -- he said he would have me arrested, and I said ‘It’s just like you to think you could do such a simple thing.’
After he had got a little more quiet I said ‘We are very short of men and if an attack is made we will be sure to be pushed back a little.’

He said -- as nasty as he could --‘Yes it’s a pity they never got conscription in Australia, then we wouldn’t have to fight so shorthanded.’
I said ‘Rubbish man, we would have to fight all the more, and again -- fancy conscripting men to come over here and fight under Officers who don’t know their work properly.’-- adding --‘It’s bad enough to be here as a volunteer.’
He knew he was beaten so he said in a sultry manner ‘You had better have a look over the parapet to see if anything is doing.’
(it’s not our work to do this but we used to do it sometimes -- however, tonight I felt like sitting on my dignity) so I refused to do it and he said. ‘I’ll report you!’
to which I replied ‘I'll report you Mr. Watt -- I am here as a telephonist and not an observer -- I’ll do my job and if you do yours, we will both be wise.’
He got up and went to the parapet -- I looked at my watch and said
‘I am going now, it’s past midnight, I’ll send a Signaller up when I get down to the Battery -- Goodnight Mr.Watt, Goodnight.’
On the way back I met the Signaller that was to go on at midnight half way up to the O.P. and that was the last of that.

July 25th a shell fell between my dugout and the one next to me -- we were about 3 ft (1m) apart and the shell fell between, blowing sand and stones in on both of us -- I never got out to see what damage was done, I thought it would keep till morning -- but I didn’t sleep well in there that night.

July 26th at our forward position today we were shelled heavily and a huge shell fell very close -- a fellow that had just joined us ran out to see where it fell, and a piece of shell hit him on the side of his head and killed him immediately -- all night we were shelled and bombed but had no losses -- only of sleep.

July 27th a few bombs were dropped near us but did no damage.

July 28th I was sent to the Wagon Lines for a few days rest -- I’d been in the front line for 8 weeks continuously and I wanted to stay on, but Capt. Reeves said I’d have to have a few days off, as we would probably have a long battle very soon.
I never did like coming to the W.L. from the line, because while in the line you do your own work, and you are practically your own boss so long as you do it right. But as soon as you get to the W.L. a Sgt. wants you to do this, and the Cpl. wants something else done, and you must be in the stables grooming horses of feeding them, and all manners of things are staring you in the face.
I’d rather be up among the shells than at the W.L. with so many ‘duds’ of Sgts. and such like to worry you.
As soon as I got down to the W.L. I asked the Sgt. of our Sub. to put me on Permanent Mess Orderly, so I’d only have one job to do -- he did this and I was better off than I thought I’d be.

July 30th we played a cricket match against a Balloon Crew -- we won 47 to 31.

July 31st bombs dropped all around our Wagon Line last night -- the 30th Battery (just near us) had 25 horses killed and 29 others wounded -- we had no damage done.

August 1st four of our Balloons were brought down today -- one near our horse lines -- very wet day -- our teams are out with full echelon of ammunition tonight -- carting to a position near Hammel -- where we had a battle on the 4thJuly -- we are to fire a barrage from this position for the coming battle.

Sun 4th August.
I went with the Ammunition wagons to see the new position -- long will I remember that night -- every little bush and hole in the ground and every bank and any object that would afford any cover from the enemy, had a gun emplacement -- guns of all calibre were hidden away, waiting for the battle.

I cannot explain the way the armament was congested -- but when we think that this was to be the biggest battle ever fought -- then we can realize to some little extent what amounts of guns were there lying waiting. You could not get along some roads -- and the fields were just one mass of guns and shells.
All night the whole countryside was one mass of moving black objects -- but as soon as daylight came, not a movement of any description could be seen -- guns all hidden, everything as peaceful as possible -- little anyone could believe that this was being done every night for nearly a fortnight -- and less the enemy knew we were preparing for such a struggle.

August 5th wet and muddy -- my 23rd birthday.
I went to Headquarters for instructions regarding the rockets that were to be used during the battle.

August 6th we had to give all our kit (except what we could easily carry) into the Quartermasters store -- we knew now that we were not in for our usual battles of one day, but we would be fighting for an indefinite period.

August 7th enemy shelling our roads -- we surmise that he has heard of our intended attack and is trying to stop us by destroying the roads -- but it is too late.

All day he fired, and up till a late hour at night -- but at 4.20 am Aug 8th (just before dawn) the Signal went up, and the whole countryside was one huge flame of fire -- what a battle -- fear was found nowhere -- we could not hear the bursting of enemy shells, although we could see them throwing up mud and flashing fire -- but to hear was absolutely out of the question.
About an hour passed, by then the enemy shelling became fewer and one by one the black terrors of death* (* German soldiers ) were drug from their obscured positions and rushed forward at the gallop to new positions -- and so on for hour after hour, until we suddenly found the enemy on our left were firing into our flank -- the English Tommies had failed to break through, and we were forced to retreat a little -- in the meanwhile the 1st Aust. Div. who had been held in reserve, were rushed in on our left and ten minutes found them well into the enemy line, and again we moved forward.
What a sight -- dead -- yes in every little trench and hole made by shells, there were dead -- such is war -- to stop and see men torn into shreds, and others cut to pieces, still trembling in death -- this is what has made the whole world wonder.
Many times, I and others have said today -- is there a God?
By ten o’clock we had gone 8 miles (13km) and captured every gun on the front and thousands of prisoners were taken, and thousands were buried -- died for the love of their Country.
Both sides lost very heavily, but I failed to see where we are justified in saying they died for the love of their Country -- rather I say they died for the hate of another Country.
When people will become human -- I wonder.
In our Battery we had 3 killed and 4 wounded and three horses killed -- we had light casualties in proportion to most units. We captured guns of all calibres from 8 ins down to rifle bullets -- during the evening we were bombed a good deal, but not much shelling because the enemy had no guns left on their front, so they had to bring guns from elsewhere.

August 9th early this morning the 12thBde relieved us and we moved back to Hammel to reorganise and get more provisions.

August 10th we went in again and relieved the 111th Battery in a thick wood -- my mates and I got into a deep trench and made our camp here -- all night long the enemy bombed us -- an Infantry platoon was wiped right out with one bomb. We had 19 horses killed and 12 wounded tonight -- a man was killed just outside our trench.

August 12th relieved by Tommies, went to Fouilloy near Corbie.

August 13th left Fouilloy 9.15 am and went through Villers-Bretennoux and Marcelcave to Vaux-sur-Somme -- we are in reserve here awaiting an advance.

August 14th ammunition bought up yesterday is sent back today -- not needed -- our position is shelled tonight.

August 15th left our reserved position at about 5 pm and went to another position about 3 miles further back -- enemy shelling with a long ranged gun -- he is supposed to be retreating.

August 16th went back to Fouilloy through Villers-Bretennoux.
The train runs through here now -- water laid on -- everything getting back into shape.

August 17th camped near Fouilloy right near the Somme River.

August 19th still at Fouilloy -- went to church last night in Corbie with Hamlin.

August 20th left Fouilloy at 5.30 pm and went to Cerisy -- saw Sg. Brown on our way.

August 21st left Cerisy for the line to take up a position for a battle in the morning -- we passed through Marcourt -- Chippily -- Mericourt -- we are about half a mile in front of Mericourt.

August 22nd we made an advance this morning -- all objectives were gained -- our Infantry are just out of Bray-sur-Somme on our right, and we expect a battle in the morning -- we are to cross over the river and help.

August 23rd we made an attack on the right of Bray this morning and did well -- we took several hundred prisoners including one very indignant fellow -- when he was being brought to the concentration camp he made one of the Officers call the prisoners to attention and salute him (he was a very high ranked Officer wearing the iron cross ribbons) he began accusing them of cowardice for not beating the Aussies -- one of our fellows walked up to him and cut his ribbons off and told him to be quiet -- which he did.

August 24th our Battery is right on the bank of the Somme -- the river is about 300 yards (275m) wide and it has locks all along which form a bridge to cross the deep places -- but each side of this there is a wide strip of swamp land, and owing to the locks being blocked, all this land is about two or three feet under water, and we have to cross this to get to our O.P. When walking on the ground it rocks up and down, and is quite spongy with 3 ft (1m) of water on top, which is none too comfortable with only one pair of socks.
I had to cross it several times during the battle of Bray, and into the bargain we were in a little hole hardly wide enough for a telephone, when we did get to the O.P. -- but ‘any port in a storm’ and so we settled down in it -- but only for a few minutes before a Whizzbang came over and cut our wire just before the battle began.
So I had to hop out and mend it -- but luckily nothing fell near while I was doing it.

August 25th at 1 am the stunt was opened and we captured Bray very easily -- but few prisoners were taken.
We moved our guns to Bray West -- but not without some difficulty -- we were shelled all along the road. We quickly dug in, and ran an O.P. line out -- we are now into the old 1916 trenches and expect some fighting before we break through.
The enemy has been firing on his own men today -- we have been told it was to keep them in line -- but I think it is because he reckons we have advanced further than we really have.
We heard that three Tommy Officers were shot for cowardice today.

August 27th we made an attack this morning capturing the town of Suzanne, and advanced about three miles.

August 28th enemy retreating -- we advanced about 2000 yards (1840m) today.

August 29th we advanced again this morning, and are just in front of a town called Curlu, which is absolutely ruined beyond all recognisance -- in fact you can only see heaps of stones and mortar.

August 30th we advanced to Hem, capturing many prisoners, but no guns. Next day, on to a town called Clery -- few prisoners.

France. September 1918.
September 1st back to Wagon Lines situated at Curlu -- enemy bombed tonight.

September 2nd a dump is close to our Wagon Line and the enemy tries to bomb it -- we are expecting a counter attack.

September 3rd we are unable to be relieved because they are expecting an attack at any time.

September 4th a counter attack last night completely failed against our fire -- we captured many prisoners -- left Curlu at 12.30 pm and went to Suzanne -- the village is not far from here and the railway has been brought up to Suzanne -- we have advanced about 27 km.

September 5th we had a parade this morning -- every man had to be on it and we were inspected, but no complaint was made -- just as well, as the men were on the point of counting the Captain out.

September 8th we leave for Doingt -- this is about two miles (3.2km) east of Peronne -- we are in reserve -- stayed here until the 17th -- during which time we didn’t do much work, except attend to horses and a little Signalling .
Several gunners have been made Bombardiers, (a Bdr. is similar to a Lc. Cpl. in infantry, except he gets Cpls. pay of 10/6 per day ($1.05), he is the lowest rank of Officer (non commissioned).
When orders came out I found that I’d been made a Bdr. and put in charge of Signalling staff, because our only N.C.O. had gone to Hospital ill. It was a funny thing for Capt. Reeves to do, and I went to him and told him I’d refuse to take the stripe when there were so many Signallers who had seen much more service than I had -- of course he had the power to make me take it -- but I told him I wouldn’t.
I said ‘If you make me take it you know what it means -- a fellow who has been here about 8 months will not be able to get good work from fellows who have spent two years here.’

So he decided to give the stripe to gunner O’Sullivan, but he made him an acting Bdr. which means he had the authority, but not the pay. My pal said I was a mug not taking it, but I made more good friends by not taking it -- and good friend is worth more than all the promotions in the field.

September 14th we had a football game with the 29th Battery -- they won.

September 16th the red tape has been cancelled as we are going into action for a stunt.

September 17th left Doingt and went through Courcelles -- Buire -- Tincourt to Roisel for a battle in the morning.
The barrage began at 5.25 am -- we moved to the right of Roisel. It is a good sized town and has not been shelled very much. I had to go back to Doingt to guide the Army Service Wagons to our new position.

September 19th we are camped in a small place called Hervilly -- several fellows who have been in the Army since the war began are going on leave to Australia.
There were eight here in a tent to themselves, and all were killed by a bomb tonight -- seven others were wounded.
Fine weather but cool.

September 20th Beryl’s birthday -- plenty of bombs at night -- cold.

September 23rd enemy shelled Wagon Lines with Slippery Dicks -- no casualties.

September 24th a stunt was made on our left this morning -- enemy made a counter attack -- heard no results -- W.L. shelled with Slippery Dicks.

September 26th we moved on to Tincourt and stayed here awaiting orders to move into the line -- just near us are two guns mounted on railway tracks shooting a distance of 21 miles (34km).

September 28th at 6.30 pm we left here and went through Marquin and Roisel to Ronssey, we are to take part in a battle in the morning. At 4 am the battle began, and everyone moved forward following a thick barrage until the Hindenburg Line was reached -- here we were temporally held up -- but soon broke through and made quick headway to a place just across the Canal -- the Americans who were with us went straight on, and needless to say they were surrounded -- and not without many casualties, did we get through to them -- heavy fighting all day and night and also next day -- our horses’ lines are at Templeux.

France. October 1918.

October 1st we pulled into action near Templeux, and took our Wagons back behind Ronssey.

October 2nd I went to Battery as mounted Orderly -- went to W.L. with message to cart 2100 Rds. to position by 2 am -- enemy shelled all around Battery -- had to cart an extra 100 Rds. per gun, and didn’t finish till 4.30 am.

October 4th still at Ronssey -- a stunt was made this morning -- advanced about 1000 yards (910m).

October 6th we pushed on a further 6 kms

October 7th carried on with the advance, capturing large numbers of prisoners -- the Cavalry are with us but cannot do any fighting -- too much barbed wire and trenches.
Our Infantry have been relieved and have gone out for a rest -- the Artillery are attached to the Yanks -- we get no tea from the Americans -- all coffee.
We moved forward to Woincourt -- found some Civilians here hiding down in the cellars -- just behind us is the town of Estrees.


Anzac troops moving through a French village,
Museum of Victoria archives


While we were coming through here a man was killed, and fell on the side of the road -- and they drove over his neck and cut off his head -- and it kept rolling along as each team hit it -- talk about humanity -- it is nowhere to be found on a battlefield. The Civilians are being taken back as refugees.

October 12th I am mounted orderly -- went to Headquarters at Estrees -- received a parcel from Phillis.

October 13th we moved to Besigney -- all this country is looking beautiful -- no shell holes and no barbed wire -- been no fighting done here. We stayed here for several days preparing for a push.

October 18th went into action near Vaux-Audigny -- many casualties, but pushed forward a good distance taking many prisoners.
The enemy counter attacked and we had to fight very hard -- we were forced to leave all the wounded men lie, and fight to hold our ground. In the evening the battle abated and we captured a good many prisoners. The Americans were mad with temper and killed dozens of prisoners, cursing them because we couldn’t get the wounded away -- it is a very foolish thing to do this, because it makes them fight till they are killed, because they believe they will be killed when captured anyway.

October 21st we moved forward to St Martin just to the right of Le Gateau -- we were gassed for two hours and had a few casualties -- early in the evening we moved our guns away, and just as we had gone, the enemy shelled our position heavily -- which, had we not moved would have wiped our whole Battery out. We moved to a position right in front of Le Gateau -- right on the river bank.

October 22nd early in the morning we pushed forward capturing a few prisoners and a large town with a lot of Civilians living in the cellars -- tramcars were stopped in the middle of the streets, and a lot of damage had been done by our shell fire. One of our cooks was wounded, and just near our guns a shell fell down between the horses of an ammunition wagon -- it killed the whole six horses, but the four men were not hurt, they soon ran to some shell holes for shelter.
We were being shelled from all directions -- but luckily our casualties were light -- Capt. Reeves was wounded -- both legs broken.
At sundown we got orders to pull out for a few days’ rest.

October 24th we came back to St Benin -- then moved further back passing through La Hai-Menneresse -- Vaux-Audigny -- Bohain -- Montbrehain and Ramicourt to Woincourt -- we are acting as Corps Reserve -- but are to go out for a rest within a few days.

October 29th still at Woincourt -- stable duty today -- we have to look after the horses -- still waiting to go out for a rest.

October 31st our rest comes a thud -- we get orders to march into the line for a battle -- we went back the same way we had come and pulled into action at Mazenhean.

France. November 1918.

November 3rd early in the morning of ( 3rd Nov. Sun.) we made an advance with Canadian Highlanders helping us -- we began our battle near Valenciennes and advanced about 6ooo yards (5400m) taking many prisoners. The Canadians said we fired the best Barrage that ever they fought behind.
This was the last battle I took part in and was also the last battle of the war, as we were ordered to cease firing a few days later.

November 6th I got my leave to England and had to find my way from Valenciennes to Bolougne -- I got to Bellicourt first night, and having no blankets, lit a fire and stayed there until daylight -- then went to Roxil, Peronne and on to Chaulnes, staying there in a cattle truck all night -- leaving at 7 am by train through Villers-Brettenoux to Longeau and then to Amiens.
I left Amiens at 6 pm and got to Bolounge at 4.30 am -- we had breakfast and got cleaned up, and then embarked for Folkstone.

Little I knew I was leaving France forever, or I may have rejoiced as it passed out of sight -- and on looking toward England we could see the white Cliffs of Dover.
We got to Folkstone at 10.45 am, and entrained for London arriving here at 4 pm.




November 9th after I had got all the clothing I wanted, a railway pass and pay, I went up to the Strand, and who should I meet but a fellow I was with in Mitcham. He too was on leave, so we decided to go up to Scotland together -- but only after spending a few days in London.

November 10th I went to Church at St Pauls in the morning and to Westminster Abbey at night -- the place was crowded because the Archbishop of Canterbury was to preach.
I did not care much for the service -- it was high church, almost like a full Catholic mass.




November 11th the Armistice was signed at 11 am and the guns around London began to fire, and everybody left their work -- every shop was empty -- but the streets were one black mass of people going everywhere or nowhere, yelling at the top of their voice.

In Trafalgar Square a fellow had a fire lit at the bottom of Nelson’s Monument, and he was telling Nelson to come down and see if he had ever seen anything like this before.
Down the Strand there was a New Zealander Soldier away up on the Statue of a horse, and he was pretending to be racing with somebody -- an Aussie thought he would help him, so he climbed up with the help of the New Zealander -- he got right up on top of the Statue (the man’s head) and there they were, like two big eagles with their arms flying, and calling out -- it made some fun for the onlookers.

In the evening Jack Bourne said we would go and have a look at some of the wine shops -- because he said everybody will be drinking as it is given free tonight.
We went, and we saw men, women and girls all drinking and drunk, lying all over the place and out in the streets too -- singing and fighting. Two girls were fighting to see who would have a boy -- we saw enough here, and went back to Horseferry Rd to bed.

But seeing we had time to catch the train to Scotland, we suddenly decided to go up there that night -- I was jolly tired but we went, arriving at Glasgow about 8 am.




There was a very heavy fog all day -- next day we went to the Botanic Gardens and in the evening we went to the Theatre.

November 14th we had a good look around the town during the day -- nobody was at work -- all were parading the streets, making an awful din. We meet some very decent people, some wanted us to spend our leave at their homes -- but we said we had made our arrangements and were sorry -- but we had done no such thing -- it was only that we were quite old enough Soldiers to be careful who we were with.
Nevertheless we promised two young girls that we would call and see them and their people -- and jolly good people they were too. We had their company on several occasions, and they were good guides too, as we knew very little about the places of most interest.
Of course I could see they had their own interests in view, and I took good care I never gave either of them any encouragement -- there are, I think about three Girls to every Man here, so anyone can quite understand their intentions -- although I’ll say this -- (because my pal has become engaged to one of them) -- they were two very decent Girls and quite fit for any fellow’s company.
But somehow didn’t affect me as anything more than good friends.

My pal was engaged to Ella Biggs -- the other one’s name was Minnie White -- both of Fisher St. Glasgow.
We met Mr Biggs -- he was a jolly nice fellow indeed -- but we never saw Miss White’s people, as one was dead and others all scattered abroad -- she was almost as a child to the Biggs’.

November 17th I left Glasgow and went to London and then on to Bournemouth -- I stayed here two days and then, feeling ill I went up to London and reported sick and was sent to Harefield Hospital with Influenza.
This is a very nice place (that is outside the Hospital), or even in it if you are ill.

After I got out of bed I went for walks and soon was quite well again, although I was not allowed to do anything.
After eight days I was sent to a convalescent camp at Littlemoor.

This is a very easy going Camp, but you need to use your head a little, or you would do all the work.
We don’t Parade in line -- just all muster in a crowd and hear orders and then Fatigue Parties are picked out.
There are several classes of fellows here -- some are too ill to do anything and others are fit for any work -- they have their own Camps according to state of health.
I am among those that are fit for duty, so I know I must be a little shrewd or I’ll catch plenty of work.

We were all on Parade, and I heard my name called on a list of fellows who are to be ready to go to Australia at any time -- now that I knew I was sure to be going home, I thought they’d give me all the work they could before I went -- they usually do that.
The Sgt said ‘Fall out all the Artillery men’ -- so I had to fall out with the rest -- we were all dressed in our full uniforms, so he said ‘You are all for Guard tonight!’
A Corporal had to take our names and numbers -- I had been caught this way before, so I gave my name as Thompson 3436 and I knew I would escape Guard that night.
We were dismissed to get dressed, and fall in again at the Guard Room -- I got dressed and went down near the Guard Room and listened for the Rollcall -- they called out a name and number which was Johnstone 61784, but no answer (now there were no numbers as high as that in the Australian Army at that time) -- and then he called out Thompson 3436 and no answer -- in fact there wasn’t half of the fellows gave their right names.
The Officer came out and called out the names again -- then he said -
‘This damn Johnstone gets me with a number over sixty thousand!’
I left and went off with some mates, and I don’t know how they got on for a Guard that night.
Littlemoor Camp.

Another day, I was coming along the footpath with two mates out of my hut, and the Orderly Sgt. came up to us and said ‘What are your names, I want you for Fatigue Duty’-- my two pals gave theirs and he turned to me and I said,
‘I’m from C. Company’ (no duty Company)
‘Oh alright’ he said and took the other two fellows off to do duty. I was in this Camp six weeks and never did any duties -- I’d learned a little of Camp life by this time -- I didn’t mind the work, but was satisfied to let others do it.

We had plenty of good food during our stay here -- four hot meals a day -- including hot soup at 8.30 pm. We used to go into Weymouth very often and go to the Pictures or Theatre -- anything to pass away the time, which grew very monotonous.

January 1st 1919. We packed our kit ready for embarkation.

January 2nd left Littlemoor Camp today…
Reveille 5.00 am
Breakfast 5.15 am
Parade 6.30 am
Moved off 7.10 am for Upwey Station -- we left Upwey 7.40 am and arrived at Plymouth at 3.30 pm, and went straight aboard the boat (Berrima).

January 3rd left Plymouth 12 noon -- sea very calm -- raining a little.

January 4th Sat. Plenty of fellows are seasick -- I am among them. Sea very rough -- cannot stand up without support.
January 5th nobody seems to care whether the boat goes down or not -- but sea is getting a little calmer at times.



January 6th Sea very calm -- land in sight on our port side. Life at sea gets very lonesome at times, especially when there is no land, nor boats in sight for many days.

January 10th we passed the Island of Malta -- a huge white cliff towering up from the blue waves, dashing at its base -- we are too far to distinguish any living thing on it.

January 12th Sunday -- Church Parade.
Church Parade at sea is much different than on land -- today it’s lovely and the sea is calm, almost too motionless.
The piano sounds very nice and all the lads are singing -- if all Church Services could be rendered at sea, I think they would have a much deeper effect on the congregation.

January 14th arrived at Port Said at 10.30 am -- we got plenty of fruit here from the natives.
On either side of us are long stretches of apparently useless desert country -- as far as the eye can see there is nothing but Sand and mountains of Sand, one beyond the other. On looking away across this country you cannot help but bring to memory some of the mysterious books written of this vast nothingness, as it appears.

We left Port Said at 6.10 pm, and began to pass through the Suez Canal -- this is a very narrow waterway and at few places, are boats able to pass -- we are travelling very steady.
To go through this Canal, each boat has to have a very powerful headlight -- supplied by the Port Authorities, and also a guide to steer the boat. We did not see much of the Country on either side, as it soon grew dark -- but all we did see was one black desert.
We arrived at Port Suez at 8.10 am and anchored outside the port -- we took on water and vegetables here and remained overnight and through till 5.40 pm the next day.
The Kamarta (another boat which left the day before us) left early in the morning.

January 17th the sea is as level as a board -- scarcely a ripple -- becoming very warm -- we are moving at a very good pace.
We are bound for Colombo now.

January 22nd each deck has been asked to pick a team of eight a side to pull in a tug of war -- my pal and I are picked for our deck. We had to pull off with C. Company -- we beat them each pull.

January 23rd we had to pull with the Sgts. today, and each time we failed to move either side.

January 24th we pull with the Sgts. again today and beat them -- there were other sports too -- potato race -- which caused some fun was about the best of all.

January 25Th boxing today -- Tpr. Higgins from Tasmania had a fight with fireman Buchannan (of crew) for 10 pound ($20), Higgins won in the second round. This was the principle fight for the day.

January 27th we arrived at Colombo at 2.45 pm -- we thought we would be allowed to go ashore -- but no such luck -- just as we reached port a thunderstorm broke overhead, and we could hardly see the shore for rain. I never saw such thick rain before -- and the lightning was something terrific.

January 28th coaling and taking on water -- we also got some vegetables and fruit from Red Cross.

January 29th we finished coaling and left port at 1 pm -- there was a bird, something like a crow settled on the mast of our boat, and it wouldn’t leave -- twice it flew as if to go to the shore, but after flying a little way it came back each time and finally stayed with us.

February 1st our bird is still with us and comes down on deck when we keep quiet -- we put food and water on the mast for it.
At Sea.

The final tug of war was pulled today -- we got second place, and got a bottle of whisky for the prize -- only about two of our team drank any of it -- the first prize was 10 pound (₤10…$20).
Our sports are over now so we have plenty of time for reading -- most of our fellows play two-up etc.

February 6th we saw hundreds of flying fish today -- they shoot up out of the water and fly a few yards -- sometimes about a hundred yards or so, then drop down into the water again.

February 9th Sunday -- we arrived at Fremantle at10 pm, and anchored out at sea a little.

February 10th pulled into port and had leave from 12 noon till 4.30 pm, this is the hottest day in Fremantle for this summer (80 º) (27˚c).
We got plenty of fruit in the town, and had the first taste of sugar for nearly two years -- we can hardly realise that we are back in Australia -- except for the people who seem much different to what we have been used to -- it’s good to be back.
We left about 7 pm with a beautiful cool breeze blowing -- it was just the thing to us after such a hot day, having come from a land covered with snow a few weeks ago.

February 14th we were told we would reach South Australia tomorrow, and naturally we are anxious to see the land appear in sight. I think most of the S.A. fellows sat up late tonight to see if the lights came in sight -- but no such luck.

February 15th I never slept a wink all night, and wasn’t feeling any the worse for it in the morning -- I was up early and went up on deck
to have my last bath at sea -- hopefully expected to see land in sight -- but no -- only the blue waves rolling in front of us.
But after breakfast, on coming up on deck, there were big hills in sight and we could just see the buildings on the waterline, and very soon we could see the people on the shore.


You could easily tell who were Croweaters (South Australians) now -- with eyes staring, trying to see some face that would be familiar to them -- we arrived at Outer Harbour at 8.45 am and anchored out about a mile (because of influenza) -- it is just 104 º (40ºc) in the shade, so we are feeling pretty warm after being used to the beautiful sea air for six weeks -- and snow previous to that.

We disembarked at 1.45 pm and went to the shore in a Tug.
Several fellows got sick before we reached the shore -- ‘after six weeks on a boat they get seasick going about a mile on a Tug?'’-- I felt a little that way myself -- but was not sick.

Of course the usual things happened when we landed -- everybody makes a terrible fuss of you, and you are glad to get away and fully realise that you are back in Australia -- and not wake up to find it is all just a dream.
It began to rain just as we reached Adelaide, and we had four inches of rain during the following 24 hours.

I don’t know if all fellows are the same when they get home -- but I felt as though I’d been away for a lifetime -- and yet everything appeared just as natural as if I’d never been away ten minutes.

To sit and think of all that has passed before my eyes during the last three years seems like unfolding a great volume, which will take a lifetime to read -- if ever.


Revelation.

Home perhaps is much less to me than to many of my pals -- but the last two years it’s acted like a magnet on my thoughts -- and after all said and done, there never were truer words spoken than…
‘There’s no place like home.’
It doesn’t matter where nor when -- you will be sure to feel the truth of those words.

What difference is there in home and life now, to when I was here before -- only this -- I begin which I left off three years ago, and find that with all the experience I’ve gained, I am three years behind in the battle of life -- and will I ever overtake those years? -- or will I always be three years behind myself? -- as you might put it.
What have I lost in life during this time, and what have I gained?
Will they balance with neither loss nor gain?

I feel I’ve lost what will never be overtaken in earthly life -- but I feel I have gained Mentally and Morally what a whole lifetime (and many lives) could never have revealed to me, other than the experiences that I’ve gone through.

The few words I’ve written in this diary are as nothing compared to what might have been written -- in fact many pages might have been made into huge volumes of very interesting reading matter -- but why brood over matured lessons -- it will not avail anything.

On the big matters alone, big books are written by those who never smelt discharged powder -- and what more could we who have been through it for so long, carrying our lives in our hands, write. But we don’t want to remember such things -- to us they are an abomination.


C H Taylor
108 Howitzer
AIF

February 1919.