Virtual
War Memorial
Australia

From Ballarat & District in the Great War

Pte Herbert Greenwood #463, 1st MG Bn

and older brother
Pte Albert (Bert) Greenwood #5102, 46th Inf Bn.
 
“You think when you get them to 12 you’ve got them for ever.”

These were the words my grandfather was heard to utter as he watched his eldest daughter being buried. The loss of a child is always painful, but imagine bringing eight children into the world and then experiencing the deaths of all but one. For Jane Greenwood, there was a constant sense of loss: babies, toddlers, a nine-year-old boy and two soldier sons. By the time she died on 19 November 1936, there was only her daughter, “Girlie,” left.

The Greenwood family story had a inauspicious beginning.

In April 1828, John Greenwood, a tanner from the Devonshire city of Exeter, was being held at the infamous Newgate Prison. Notorious for its appallingly cruel conditions, Newgate was not a place for the faint of heart. Greenwood had been charged with stealing half a sovereign and given that a 21-year-old had just been sentenced to death for the theft of a watch, these were very worrying circumstances. However, it seems the judge was feeling lenient and John Greenwood was sentenced instead to 14-years transportation to the Colony of New South Wales.

Greenwood spent seven long months in the over-crowded filth of Newgate before being bundled onboard the convict packet Lord Melville on 14 November 1828. There were 170 “nefarious” souls crowded below deck – 106 had a life sentence attached to their names, so perhaps Greenwood was one of the lucky ones…

The Lord Melville reached Sydney Cove on 6 May 1929; despite the voyage taking nearly six months, there were amazingly no deaths recorded amongst the convicts. For John Greenwood, the next stage of his life was already sorted – he had been assigned to free settlers, Alexander Berry and Edward Wollstonecraft. Like so many early Australian businesses, the company of Berry and Wollstonecraft relied heavily on convict labour. Their partnership focussed on an extended land grant in the Shoalhaven River area, where native cedar was felled for export and crops were grown for sale.

Although the life of a convict is no sinecure, conditions for John Greenwood were far better than those experienced during the very early days of the colony. He kept his head down, worked hard and secured his Ticket of Leave on 3 June 1836. Now able to work for himself, Greenwood once again enjoyed a modicum of freedom, although he was required to remain in the Illawarra district, had to report regularly to authorities and attend church. He could not leave the colony.
A pardon was granted to John Greenwood in 1838 in recognition of his good behaviour. He had returned to the tanning trade and his expertise as a currier allowed him to make a good living.

In 1851, he married Mary Bradford, a 24-year-old dairymaid from South Molton in Devon. They initially settled at Jamberoo before eventually moving closer to nearby Kiama. Although now 55, Greenwood was to experience the ultimate life resurgence – his young wife rapidly presented him with nine children in just thirteen years. Their family home, Alphington Cottage, on the Geringong Road, was a gentle salutation to his birthplace.

Their eldest son, also named John, was born in 1853 and he would eventually take this story to the sawmilling town of Lyonville near Daylesford. In the years before leaving Kiama, he helped his father with the family tanning business – in 1877, a cow’s hide was worth 13-shillings, whilst a bullock’s hide fetched two shillings more. It was a lucrative venture. He also worked with his father and brothers keeping a small farm. Many years later ‘an old Kiama boy’ reminisced about the area…

‘…Further south, at the foot of the hill, was the dwelling and tannery of the Greenwood family. It was at this place where the Tanner's Creek (Munna Munnora) crosses the old road that Tom Yates and his horse were swept away down the stream…’

In discussing the Illawarra, which had depended greatly on its dairying industry, the quality of the work produced by the Greenwood family received considerable recognition.

‘…But perhaps, the best known tannery in Southern Illawarra from the fifties to the late eighties was that of Mr, J. Greenwood, south of Kiama. The creek flowing past this tannery is called Tanner's Creek, and the hill on the Kiama side on the old road is Tanner's Hill, or Jack the Tanner's Hill, for long the steepest on the road from Gerringong to Kiama, obviated by the deviation around the higher part of the mountain side…’

Despite these testimonials, John Greenwood senior fell on hard times in the late 1870’s and the old man quickly amassed debts he simply could not pay. He was in his eightieth year, his wife was an invalid, and he relied heavily on the support of his children.
Following his father’s death on 22 July 1880, John Greenwood the younger struck out on his own, and relocated to Victoria.

On 24 August 1886, at St Columb’s Anglican Church in Hawthorn, John Greenwood married Jane Crosbie Stuart. The service was performed by the Reverend T. H. Armstrong.

Jane, although born in Hawthorn, was herself a delightful mix of Scots-Irish ancestry. Whilst her mother, Anne Burke, came from the cultural heart of Ireland – Galway, her Scottish father, Robert Crosbie, had come to Australia by means of a little youthful skullduggery. Deserting from a ship in which he had been apprenticed, the young man avoided detection by adopting his stepfather’s surname of Stuart. He left behind his life in Scotland, including a brother who held the position of solicitor in the Supreme Court of Dumfries. Only a select few people knew his story…
Sadly, Jane’s father died on 22 September, just a month after the wedding, following ‘a long and painful illness.’ Although expected, such a significant loss could have been seen as an inauspicious beginning to Jane’s married life.

Showing close family bonds, Jane named her first-born son after her brother; William John Greenwood was born at Hawthorn on 25 January 1887.

A second son, Robert Sidney, followed in late 1888, but his death a year later on 14 December was an all-too-common experience for couples during the Victorian period.

The young family had by this time moved to the adjacent suburb of Kew, and it was there that a third son, Albert, was born on 24 March 1890. Bert was a bonny baby with brown eyes and a shock of light brown hair.

Jane was safely delivered of a further four sons. Two, however, suffered the same fate as little Robert Sidney and a third, Harold, was to die in 1902 when he was just 9-years-old.

The only other survivor of this poor little band of brothers was to be the youngest, Herbert Septimus, who was born at Bullarto near Daylesford on 24 May 1896. Like Bert, he was to have brown eyes and hair, and grew into a veritable mountain of man standing over 6-feet tall and weighing 168-pounds.

Finally, at the age of 42, Jane gave birth to her only daughter, Agnes Ann, on 8 March 1895. “Girlie” was the apple of her parent’s eyes.

The family had moved to the settlement of Bullarto, nestled in the Wombat Forest, by 1895. Timber logging had all but removed the grand trees of the area (Bullarto is the indigenous word for abundance and big) by the end of the 1890’s, but milling continued at nearby Lyonville. Given that the origins of the surname Greenwood is toponymical and referred to people living near a green wood, it was most appropriate that Lyonville became home to this branch of the family. Following his father’s lead, John named their house after his birthplace – Kiama.

The four surviving Greenwood children were educated at the Lyonville State School. Their father farmed a small property that then provided work for Will and Bert, whilst Herbert became a millhand and Girlie helped her mother at home. As a family, they worshipped together at the small Church of England chapel in the township, established to cater for the timber milling community.

Given their location, it was not surprising that the brothers excelled at woodchopping. Those of us who grew up in the 1970’s will remember the woodchop on Wide World of Sports – as a sport it had been around for hundreds of years and was always popular at agricultural shows. The name of Greenwood often appeared amongst the prize-winners. Such was Bert’s skill he was able to earn his living as an axeman.

Although Bert stayed close to home, young Herbert left for Warburton in the Yarra Valley, where the timber industry was thriving.
Life appeared settled for the brothers, and for their parents the prospect of a griefless time seemed at last possible.

When the world was plunged into the first global conflict, Australia – still little more than a fleabite on the international backside – jumped at the opportunity to prove its worth. The words of Labor Opposition Leader, Andrew Fisher, became a clarion call to the country’s young men. Campaigning at Colac, on 31 July 1914, the dour Scot had famously declared that ‘should the worst happen, after everything has been done that honour will permit, Australians will stand beside the mother country to help and defend her to our last man and our last shilling.’ As Prime Minister, Fisher would lead the country to war.

The Greenwood boys resisted the initial desperate rush to enlist. However, news that Bert’s classmate, Thomas Broughton, had died after contracting dysentery in the trenches at Gallipoli, made the situation more personal.

Bert, and his best mate, Andy Maxwell, another axeman from Bullarto, travelled to Melbourne in January 1916. They presented themselves at the Melbourne Town Hall, where Bert was examined on 12 January. The medical officer quickly concluded that he was of ‘good character.’ Although he was slightly shorter than his younger brother, Bert still stood 5-feet 9¾-inches in height and weighed 148-pounds – and it was all muscle. He had an expanded chest measurement of 38-inches, which easily exceeded the minimum requirement. Like the majority of his contemporaries, Bert had been vaccinated as a child, and bore three tell-tale marks on his left arm. He also had a scar on his left knee, perhaps caused by a glancing axe head. There was no mention that Bert had a slightly turned eye – clearly it did not impact his effectiveness as a soldier.

Andy Maxwell was also passed fit and the pair were sworn in as new members of the AIF. Due to Lyonville and Bullarto falling into an area exempted from military training, neither Bert or Andy had any military training. They were going to learn very quickly.

They joined the 24th Depot Battalion at Royal Park on 24 January, before being transferred to the 21st Depot Battalion based at Warrnambool a month later.

Final leave allowed for Bert to return home to say goodbye to his family, then, on 10 March, he joined the 16th reinforcements for the 14th Infantry Battalion at the Broadmeadows Camp. His regimental number was 5102. Andy Maxwell was 5156.

After just two months training, Bert and Andy left Melbourne onboard HMAT Anchises. They sailed from port on 14 March.

According to Private Edward Roland Sowden, a New South Welshman with reinforcements to the 31st Battalion,
‘…On March 11 orders came out unexpectedly to be ready to embark on the 14th. The remaining time
was taken up in getting ready and making allotments. We embarked on the "Anchises" on March 14th, and sailed for Adelaide where we picked up more troops. We, arrived there two days later, we sailed again the same day and never sighted land until we reached Colombo, and. nearly sweltering to death, we left on April 2nd, and commenced our journey to Suez…’

In total, the voyage took four weeks and Bert marched into the 4th Training Battalion at Tel-el-Kebir on 15 April. Due to the expansion and duplication of the AIF, both Bert and Andy were then transferred to the 46th Battalion (sister unit of the 14th) on 20 May. Bert was posted to A Company.

Whilst the bulk of the 46th Battalion was sent to France in June, Bert and Andy (as part of the 12th Training Battalion) were sent to England for further training. They sailed from Alexandria on 6 June onboard the transport Franconia. The hazardous trip through waters heavily patrolled by German U-boats took ten days before they safely reached Plymouth on 16 June. They then travelled through to the Salisbury Plain.

This rotation of Australian troops was stationed at Rollestone Camp in an upland area of Wiltshire, near the town of Amesbury and the pre-historic landmark, Stonehenge. For Bert and Andy, it was a good time of the year to be in camp on the Salisbury Plain. As many Australians would later attest – winter on the exposed plain was particularly harsh. Or as one man put it – ‘a bit bleak.’

Once again, the training period was brief and Bert was soon on his way to the Western Front; he sailed on 30 July, but it was to be a further two weeks before he and Andy joined the 46th Battalion. It proved to be an inhospitable initiation – the unit had just come out of the line at Pozières to find no billets available at Albert. They were forced to bivouac in the open and, although it was still summer, the weather had closed in and was very wet.

Before the end of the month, Bert, who had been assigned to a Lewis Gun team, was in the frontline trenches at Pozières.

Meanwhile, back in Australia Herbert had left his job as a mill hand at West Warburton and successfully joined the AIF. His previous attempt to enlist had met with rejection due to the condition of his teeth, but when he presented himself to Dr Arthur Lamphier, at Yarra Junction, it appears the problems had been dealt with. The doctor did note that Herbert had several scars – on his right forearm, left knee and over his right eye. There were also no discernible vaccination marks. Despite easily meeting the physical requirements, Herbert was re-examined in Melbourne three days later. It appears this was merely a formality and he immediately took his oath of allegiance to King and country.

Technically, he was still slightly under the age that required parental consent, so he conveniently bumped his age up by a few months, claiming to be 21 years and 3 months, when he had actually just celebrated his 20th birthday.

Both Bert and Herbert named their father as next-of-kin.

Although Herbert stated that he had no military experience, his parents said later that prior to enlisting he had in fact been serving with the Royal Australian Garrison Artillery at Queenscliff. His initial training in the AIF was with the No11 Machine Gun Company at the Seymour Camp. He embarked from Melbourne on 25 October as a private, number 463, with the 7th reinforcements for the 2nd Machine Gun Company, onboard HMAT Ulysses.

Back in France, Bert had passed through his first major tour of the trenches intact. The 46th was then sent with other units of the AIF to patrol the line forward of Ypres in Belgium. Overall this was a quiet period, enlivened by the occasional raid on the German trenches.

They were soon back on the Somme.

The 46th marched in platoons via Delville Wood during the afternoon of 12 November, to take up positions around Gueudecourt where they relieved the 12th Battalion. Conditions had already begun to deteriorate due to recent rain and the men quickly began to succumb to illness.

‘…There were a large number of cases of sickness including bronchitis, influenza, rheumatism – but very few were serious. There being no accomodation (sic) for sick in the line a large number had to be evacuated but were only away for a few days. Sickness was caused by lack of shelter and hot food in most cases which was unfortunately unavoidable. Stringent precautions were taken to combat TRENCH FEET with satisfactory results. Number of cases of this was under 2%...’

Bert came down with bronchitis and was amongst those evacuated out of the trenches. He was admitted to the 36th Casualty Clearing Station at Heilly on 17 November before being transferred by Ambulance Train (No29) to the 12th General Hospital at Rouen. When he was admitted there on 22 November, his condition had worsened slightly to bronchial laryngitis.

Making a rapid recovery, Bert was discharged to the nearby 2nd Convalescent Depot on 5 December. He was then moved to the 4th Australian Divisional Base Depot at Étaples, where he was passed fit to resume active duties. His return to the Front was hindered when he developed scabies, one of the most common ailments experienced by the troops. Highly contagious, scabies spreads very quickly and unsanitary, crowded conditions were a prime breeding ground for the mites that caused the ailment. Although seemingly inocuous, if left untreated scabies could lead to septicaemia and issues with both the heart or kidneys. Consequently, the military provided scabies treatment stations to quickly eradicate the problem. Bert was admitted to the 20th General Hospital at Camiers on Boxing Day 1916, where he was probably treated with Vleminckx solution (a topical application of sulfurated lime) over the course of three days. His uniform and other items, including his bedding, was all disinfected.

Herbert Greenwood celebrated Christmas 1916 at sea, before finally reaching Plymouth on 28 December. Like his brother before him, Herbert then travelled through to the Salisbury Plain and joined the No6 and 7 Camps of the Australian Details at Perham Downs. He was transferred to the Australian Machine Gun Training Depot at Belton Park, Grantham, in Lincolnshire on 3 January 1917, effectively removing him from the bitterly cold experience of winter on the Salisbury Plain.

Having been cleared of scabies, Bert was able to return to his unit. The 46th was in the frontline near Le Transloy in the vicinity of Shine and Grease trenches when Bert reached them on 18 January. A Company took up position at Pilgrim’s Way.

It wasn’t long before Herbert joined his brother on the Western Front. He sailed from Folkestone on 10 March, reaching the Machine Gun Base Depot at Camiers on the same day. The 21st Machine Gun Company (later the 1st Machine Gun Battalion) had been formed in England during January 1917 as the 16th Machine Gun Company (MGC). The unit was renumbered in March 1917 and assigned to the 1st Australian Division. Herbert joined the 21st MGC on 23 April to the right of the Beaumont-Morchies line.

By this time the AIF had just been subjected to the disastrous First Battle of Bullecourt, which was launched on 11 April. The small village sat at the juncture of the heavily fortified Hindenberg and Siegfried Lines.

‘The Germans were ready and waiting with massive supporting artillery and machine-gun fire which they poured into bowl-shaped battlefield that became an instant killing ground.’

Tanks were deployed to support the attacking troops – the first time Australians had experienced the new “land ships,” and it was to have a lasting effect. The new weapon proved to be a complete failure and the lack of artillery support led to a high casualty rate. Andy Maxwell saw his mate, Bert, make it into the German frontline before losing sight of him. A shell blast shattered Andy’s left foot, but he maintained his composure and he set about helping other wounded men. Despite suffering extraordinary pain, Andy was able to pull eleven men into shellholes where he bound up their wounds. All the while German machine-gunners played a murdrous fire across the ground. He was to received the Military Medal for his bravery that day.

By the end of the battle the Australians were left to count their losses. The 46th Battalion had suffered 382 casualties: 43 men had been killed, whilst a further 138 were found to be missing. Confirmation of their fates slowly came in and the death toll gradually rose to 145. Reports had initially confirmed that Bert was wounded and missing. There were fears that he was also dead.

When Miss Jessie Duncan of 14 Hotham Place in East Richmond received a postcard from Bert on 13 May, the authorities were able to extract the following information ‘…Captured 11th April, wounded, doing well…”

Enquiries were immediately launched through the Red Cross Wounded and Missing Bureau in an attempt to confirm that this was Bert Greenwood from Lyonville.
When interviewed, Andy Maxwell was able to provide detailed and accurate information. It also showed just what good mates the two were.
‘…About news of my mate…I heard rumours that he had been killed and others that he had been wounded. I was with him in the charge and wounded by shell, but can certify he was not killed or died by wounds of same shell which hit me. He got into the frontline of the Germans and his Coy were nearly all taken prisoners and as you have received news from a man of the same name and number I can assure you it is him, as there was no other man of that name in the 46th Battalion. His descriptions are as follows: 5’ 10”, aged 26yrs, dark, one cross eye, or slightly crossed, 12 stone weight. Enlisted in January 1916 at Melbourne Town Hall, came over to Egypt in 16th reinforcements of 14th Battalion and was transferred into the 46th Battalion in Egypt. He left Egypt on the 6th June 1916 and went to Salisbury Plain, trained there and went to France about 28th July 1916. I have known him all my life and had been with him all through from day of enlistment…Please forward the enclosed letter to…POW in Dülmen, Germany, as he is anxious about me…’

The letter was duly forwarded to Bert, who was then interned at Gefangenenlager (Prisoner of War Camp) at Dülmen in the Westphalian region of Germany.
Jane Greenwood was then informed that her missing son was officially a prisoner of war.

It was only a matter of months before the Greenwood family was to suffer an even greater loss.

Australian units were to take a prominent part in the Third Battle of Ypres – soon to be known as the Battle of Passchendaele. Although the bite and hold battles that formed the overall operation garnered considerable success, there was always a great human cost.

Being a machine-gunner on the Western Front was a dangerous occupation – it was a sedentary job, with the crew confined to a “nest.” Hence any noticeable activity quickly attracted the attention of enemy artillery and snipers. The tell-tale wisps of smoke from the firing guns made locating these positions easier and enabled attacks to be quickly pinpointed. So, while the machine-gun was one of the most effective of Great War weapons, it also made the men targets.
As part of the attack on Broodseinde Ridge on 4 October 1917, the 21st MGC played an important role. Following up a creeping barrage, the guns were moved forward into position along the ridge. They immediately came under attack from the German artillery, however, the men kept up a continual rate of fire. In just half an hour they expended 40,000 rounds of ammunition.

The following day the guns were again moved forward. Artillery fire continued and it was during one particular burst that a piece of shell hit and killed young Herbert Greenwood.

Private Charles Ballantine was caught by the same shell – he was about 50-yards away from Herbert, to the right of a winding series of duckboards known as the Jabber Track. ‘…His throat was cut by a piece of shell. He died instantly. I helped to bury him near where he was killed, but it was quite impossible to mark the grave. A cross was made for him, but no one was allowed to go and erect it, the shelling was terrific. Greenwood came from Victoria. He ran away to enlist. He was a farmer and had been in the Coy since March 1917. I had known him all the time…’ Private George Munday added that the piece of shell hit Herbert in the jaw.

Private Fred Goessling stated that Herbert had been killed outright by a whizz-bang (a 7.7cm (3.1") shell fired from a Field Gun), and that they were about 1200-yards behind the frontline on the Passchendaele Ridge. Herbert had been two guns away from Goessling.

Pte Albert Victor Such was about 30-yards away and had seen Herbert talking to his mate near the gun position when the whizz-bang exploded. He saw the body soon after and also commented on the damage to Herbert’s head caused by the shell.

A senior witness, Lieutenant John Clancy Little MM, wrote,
‘…I deeply regret that his death is only too truly a fact, as I was an eye witness, the only consolation being that it was instantaneous. With regard to his grave, his body lies with about 20 other good lads of my old Coy in a little cemetery of our own making, at a spot on the Ypres road, known as Belgian Battery Corner, about 1 mile SW of Ypres. Over his and every other lad’s grave in that small group has been erected a nice wooden cross bearing the usual “killed in action” and all particulars and a spot is well known to the Graves Registration officials, who are taking steps to have all the cemeteries fenced and planted with trees and flowers…’

The duty of conveying the news to Herbert Greenwood’s family fell to the Officer Commanding of No1 Section, Lieutenant Herbert Charles Watson.

‘…It is with the deepest sympathy that I write you these few lines to give you a few particulars of your son's (Herbert) death. I do not know if you will have received any official communication of the same before yon get this letter, but, in any case, I sincerely hope that this letter will do something towards softening the blow which you will, no doubt, feel very keenly for some time.

Your son was one of a machine gun crew, which has been right through the recent heavy fighting and many times has narrowly escaped death, several times being buried by the explosion of large shells.
It was during his third trip into the line, while his gun crew was forming part of my battery, that he was hit. I am thankful to be able to tell you that he was killed instantly. A large shell burst about thirty yards from him and a large fragment hit him in the head and killed him instantly.

I feel his loss very greatly, as he was in my section, but I cannot even guess what his loss will be to you. He was always cheerful and willing in his work and a general favourite with both officers and men of this company.

He had a few personal effects on him at the time and I am sending them to you under a separate cover, together with a purse he had taken off a German prisoner only the day before.

Once again allow me to offer you and all the family the heartfelt sympathy of myself and all his recent pals, and hoping that time will soften the blow…’

Andy Maxwell had also returned to the Front and was wounded a second time on 19 October 1917. He suffered multiple wounds to his chest, left thigh and left forearm, which was fractured. His war was now effectively over and he returned home on 10 January 1918.

By July 1917, Bert Greenwood had been transferred to the Münster III Camp; he also spent time in the camp at Minden (both camps in Westphalia). He was able to send semi-regular postcards via the Red Cross, but POW’s quickly became aware that the Germans were vetting these communications to check for any hint that they were not being treated well. On 16 September, Bert wrote, ‘…My health is fairly good, but I have lost the sight of left eye – was wounded…’
Although there were only a few details on Bert’s condition, it is possible that he had suffered a detached retina due to the explosion of a stick grenade. He had been wounded in the right arm and his right eye was also damaged.

The last postcard home, dated 14 October 1917, was reassuring to the Greenwood family. ‘…Am receiving my food parcels regularly – am in good health…’
Hopeful for good news, Jane Greenwood wrote to Base Records on 19 November 1917, asking ‘…do you know of any chance there is of his [Bert] being exchanged? Kindly let me know. Since then, my son Herbert Greenwood has been killed in action of the fifth of October…’

On 27 December 1917, Bert was repatriated from the camp at Mannheim to neutral Switzerland, where he was to undergo surgery. It was required that he be held there for the duration of the war. His new home was at the Hotel Brünig.

Bert underwent treatment on his eyes at Salem-Spital, a medical clinic in Bern, where he was admitted on 4 February 1918. And, if you have to be in hospital, this was certainly the place to choose – it is set by a pond in a large garden and is surrounded by views of the Alps and the Old Town, not that poor Bert could enjoy the scenery.

Even in Switzerland, there was the expectation that military discipline would be maintained. In June 1918, the Swiss Military Authorities charged Bert with creating a disturbance and striking a member of the Garrison Military Police. As punishment, Bert was confined to the hotel for 7-days and was ‘deprived of Lance stripe,’ indicating that he had received an undocumented appointment in rank.

When news of the Armistice swept around the world, communities, large and small, revelled in the end of the war. ‘All Lyonville district was full of rejoicing’ and the celebrations continued into the following day. The appearance of Reverend J. Malcolm Taylor, the Presbyterian minister from Trentham, on the Greenwood doorstep shattered the happy atmosphere. Seemingly safe at Interlaken in Switzerland, Bert had contracted influenza and died on 4 November.

John and Jane Greenwood were well aware that Bert had spent ‘many, many weary months’ in Germany where he ‘suffered very severely.’ They had ‘fondly hoped that he would soon return home.’ Although the ‘greatest of sympathy’ was felt for the family, there was little anyone could do to alleviate their sorrow.

Information of what had occurred was gradually fed down the lines of communication. Bert had been admitted to the hospital in the Hotel des Alpes at Interlaken on 27 October having contracted “la grippe” – the French term for influenza. Switzerland was currently experiencing the second and deadliest wave of the pandemic. Bert made slight progress until 1 November, when he suffered a relapse due to double pneumonia. Lieutenant P. Rhodes, who was in charge of the hospital, said that ‘in spite of a splendid constitution,’ which allowed Bert to fight the infection for three days, his heart became affected.

A Doctor Michel oversaw Bert’s treatment. He administered an injection of 10cc of Electragol – a preparation of colloid silver. ‘In spite of all possible treatment his condition became worse and worse.’
On 3 November, Bert had lapsed into unconsciousness and he died the following day. Dr Michel signed the death certificate, stating the cause of death to be ‘paralysis of the heart following double pneumonia (grippe).’

Concerns over the spread of infection meant Bert’s body was buried immediately in the cemetery at Unterseen.

Captain Charles Mills, of the 31st Battalion, who had been captured at Fromelles, wrote to the AIF Records Office in London on 11 November 1918.

‘…The Grippe has been very prevalent in Switzerland for some weeks past. A number of British internee at Interlaken were affected and six have died there since the 29th October 1918 four of whom were overseas troops. About eight Australians were ill. The epidemic is now abating. As Interlaken is in quarantine I am unable to visit the centre and have asked Capt Fox, 13th Bn, to prepare a report, which I will forward to you. The patients have had every possible care. Letters of condolence are being forwarded by the Major General to the next-of-kin of the two above mentioned soldiers…’ (Bert Greenwood and Lance-Corporal 1339 Charles Frederick Bromfield 14th Battalion)

The loss of two young men in the prime of their lives was a double blow for John and Jane Greenwood. There was also ongoing concerns over young Herbert’s grave. Although it was maintained by multiple witnesses that his body had been buried and photographs of a grave at Belgian Battery Corner southwest of Ypres, sent to Jane on 25 May 1920, no trace of the grave could be found.

On 29 June 1922, Base Records communicated to John Greenwood, ‘…the photographs which were forwarded to you…purporting to depict the late soldier’s final resting place in the Belgian Battery Corner Cemetery, where those of a memorial only and not actually marking an individual grave site. This disclosure was made as the result of an inquiry by the IWGC [International War Graves Commission] regarding the reports of burial of other members of this unit in the same cemetery and an examination of the ground served to assure the authorities that no burial had been effected under the several crosses in question.
It was later ascertained that the regimental particulars of these soldiers (including those of your son) were first inscribed on a collective memorial erected in the above named cemetery and when subsequently it was found necessary to replace this, by some unfortunate mischance, individual crosses erected in such a manner as to imply actual graves where substituted in place – hence the erroneous reports of burial originating. Despite an exhaustive search by the Grave Services no trace of your son’s remains can be obtained and failing their recovery and identification it is proposed to suitably commemorate his sacrifice by the inclusion of his full regimental description and date of death on one of the memorials to be erected to the missing.

Meanwhile, the memorial cross depicted by the photographs in your possession will be allowed to remain. Assuring you of the Department’s profound regret at the distressing circumstances arising in this connection…’

A letter from Australian Grave Services to Base Records followed on 12 July 1922 – ‘…Although exhaustive searches and investigations have been made with the object of locating the grave of the above named it has not been possible either to locate his actual burial place or obtain any information which might indicate his probable original or present resting place…’

The file was marked “No trace on research.” As was intimated, those with no known grave – the missing – were commemorated on grand memorials. The name of Herbert Greenwood was added to the Portland stone panels of the Menin Gate in the city of Ypres.

Parcels of effects were eventually returned to the family – Herbert’s belongings were wrapped in a single parcel and consisted of his identity disc, wallet, purse, a note book, cards, photos, a letter, two fountain pens, his pipe, a one mark note, six German coins, and a German calendar – the latter being perhaps the contents of the purse mentioned by Lieutenant Watson.

A second package containing Bert’s effects, held two photo frames, a wooden ink pot, a wooden box, railway book, note book, wallet, mirror, a pair of spectacles in a case, letters, photos, cards, a locket, his identity disc and sundry papers.

The Defence Department had granted Jane Greenwood a pension of 40-shillings a fortnight following the death of her youngest son. It seemed a painfully inadequate gesture.

On 15 June 1922, the Greenwood family was informed that Bert’s remains had been exhumed and reburied in the St Martin’s Cemetery, at the town of Vevey (‘one of the “Pearls of the Swiss Riviera”’) on the northern shore of Lac Léman (Lake Geneva). It was a very sombre service attended with all care and ceremony.

The Melbourne Sun News-Pictorial published a photograph of the ceremony on 10 August 1923. It was captioned, ‘On Foreign Soil. Two Australian soldiers, Lance-Corporal Bloomfield (sic) (14th Batt) and Private A. Greenwood (46th Batt) who were interned in Switzerland for surgical treatment during the war, died there and their bodies were buried last month in the military cemetery at Vevey, Switzerland, beside the 78 other British sailors and soldiers. Swiss soldiers formed the guard of honour at the burial…’

Due to the family’s bereavement, the planned wedding for Girlie Greenwood to Jack Rowe, from Daylesford, became a very quiet, but still ‘pretty’ affair. It was celebrated at the Daylesford Church of England on 11 December 1918, with Will Greenwood, Girlie’s only surviving sibling, standing up as best man.

On 6 May 1930, after 44-years of marriage, Jane suffered the loss of her husband, John. Cruelly, she then had to endure the death of her last son, Will, who died at the Daylesford Hospital on 24 August 1934.
Grandchildren now became the loving focus for Jane – Girlie and Jack provided her with a whole parcel of them! Jack, Jean, Norma, Bill, Ann, Gwen, Una, Margaret and Allan completed their own branch of the family and it seems that Girlie was a devoted Mum.

When the Rowe family moved to the Melbourne suburb of Richmond, Girlie took her mother with her. Jane Crosbie Greenwood died surrounded by her remaining family at their home in Gardner Street, on 17 November 1936. Her body was taken back to the Daylesford Cemetery for burial with her husband and sons – the names of Bert and Herbert were then carefully added as a permanent memorial.

Sadly, there are no known photographs of Jane Greenwood's youngest son.