Virtual
War Memorial
Australia

Ballarat & District in the Great War
12 hrs ·
‘A hero he lived, a hero he died;
As true as steel.’

When Australia went to war with Germany in 1914, there were countless thousands of families across Australia whose connections to the Fatherland were barely a generation away. Communities began to suspect people now regarded as enemy aliens. The friendly butcher who had supplied delicious smallgoods with a cheery smile, the baker who delivered fresh bread daily suddenly became threats. While men of German nationality were eventually interned in prison camps, those with German “sounding” surnames became the target of abuse. Explaining ancestry when enlisting in the AIF was not uncommon, but those with German ancestry volunteered in large numbers – they served with perhaps a deeper conviction for their adopted country than any others – and they died believing their cause was a just one.

The Muller family of Ballarat was very Germanic. Theodore Muller was born at Clausthal near Hanover, in the German State of Lower Saxony. His wife, Selina Opitz, was born at Tanunda in the Barossa Valley of South Australia – a popular settlement for German immigrants, and her parents were both Prussian. The couple married at Ballarat on 28 September 1869.

Their son, John Clifford “Jack” Muller, was born at Ballarat East on 17 June 1894. He was the last of their eleven children – and 24-years younger than his eldest sibling!

Theodore Muller worked as a miner for many years, and the family lived in Grant Street – close to both the city and the large gold mines of Ballarat East. Theo was also a big supporter of the Golden Point Football Club – especially the Junior Football Association, who he personally believed were more ‘interesting’ than the senior teams. His commitment to the community was always a good influence on his growing children.

When Jack reached school age, he attended the nearby Golden Point State School. After leaving school he was indentured as an apprentice harness maker to local saddler Robert Morrell in his shop at 25 Main Street. During his seven years at Morrell’s, Jack learned all the intricacies of making the finest leather products.

Jack was also involved in the Citizen’s Forces as a member of the 70th Infantry “Ballarat Regiment”. The regiment had been mobilised and sent to the coastal defences at Queenscliff shortly after war was declared. Like many of his mates in the 70th, Jack joined up at the first call for volunteers, signing his papers on 17 August.

Even though the requirements for those first recruits were particularly stringent, Jack had no trouble passing the medical. He was 5-feet 7½-inches tall, weighed 10-stone 4-pounds and could expand his chest to 36-inches. His fair complexion and grey eyes were fairly typical of his ancestry; however, his red hair was certainly different! He also had a tattoo of his initials, “J. M.”, on his left forearm.

After a period of training at Broadmeadows Camp, Jack was posted to A Company of the 8th Infantry Battalion. He sailed from Melbourne onboard HMAT Benalla as a member of the 8th Battalion Machine Gun Section with the Head Quarters Staff. The First Contingent, which had been heading for England, was given a new destination mid-voyage when Turkey entered the war. Like so many of his comrades, Jack Muller was then to experience all the exotic sights of the ancient Biblical land of Egypt.

By the time orders came through for the AIF to embark for the new front in the Dardanelles, most of the Australian troops had had their fill of the monotony of camp-life, the overbearing heat and the damnable sand. Without doubt, Jack would have been excited to set foot on the Clan MacGillivray on 5 April 1915 to begin the journey to Gallipoli.

Jack made it safely through the historic landing at ANZAC Cove on 25 April, when so many of the 8th Battalion did not. Then, during the unit’s operations at Cape Helles on 8 May, he was wounded slightly in the arm, but, showing determination beyond his years, refused to leave the line for treatment.

He was to celebrate his 21st Birthday in the trenches on bully beef and biscuits – or the ubiquitous plum and apple jam!

The 8th was in the support trenches at Steele’s Post on 24 July, when Jack was dangerously wounded during a Turkish bombardment. He received immediate treatment and was taken to the beach for evacuation. Doctor’s discovered that the shrapnel that had hit Jack in the head, had caused a compound fracture to the skull, and the damage was beyond treatment. He died onboard the hospital ship Somali on 25 July 1915 off Gaba Tepe, never having regained consciousness. His body was buried at sea later the same day.

On 19 August, the Muller family were informed by the Reverend Thomas Colebrook that Jack had died of wounds. For Selina Muller it was particularly difficult – she struggled with the suddenness of the news. They had received no official word that Jack had even been wounded. She wrote to Base Records on 30 August hoping for further information; she wasn’t to know the quickness of events had made it impossible for any earlier notification.

Fortunately, Jack’s commanding officer, Lieutenant Charles Traill, made a special effort to write to her after her son was wounded. His words must have been of immeasurable comfort to the grieving family. Sadly, at the time of writing his letter, Lieutenant Traill still had no idea of the fate of his young comrade…

‘…Dear Madam.—It is with great sympathy that I have to notify you of your son's misfortune in getting dangerously wounded by a high explosive Turkish shell. The shell burst amongst five of my lads while they were in the support trenches behind the firing line, and three out of the five were badly wounded, including your son. Jack was hit through the head. At the time he was asleep, rolled up in his blanket. We got a doctor on the spot, who attended to him, and did all he could in first aid, and he was immediately got down to the beach hospital, and from there to the hospital ship.

From the start he was unconscious, and so suffered no pain. The doctor unfortunately, owing to the gravity, gave no hopes of his recovery, but we are hoping against hope that this is not so, and that he will pull through, which is my earnest wish, as well as his comrades here in the machine gun section, amongst all of whom your son was so popular and liked.

I miss him very much, as he was such a reliable, hardworking, and cheerful boy, and braved dangers in a way that gained him admiration all round; while down at Helles Point, where the 8th battalion were sent in May last, he was previously wounded in the arm slightly, but refused to be attended to at the hospital, remaining all the time in the firing line, getting his arm dressed in the trenches by his comrades. From this he recovered all right, and had no ill effects from the wound.

It being very difficult once a man is put on the hospital ship to find out how he progresses (as the ships go backwards and forwards to Egypt), we are without further news of your son. We all sincerely hope he will pull through. Should it be otherwise, we can only say that he gave his life nobly for his country in a cause worthy of fame and honour.

My personal sympathies I extend to you in this trying time, and God grant you relief in it all.

His comrades, one and all, sincerely wish to convey you their condolences.

A few personal papers, which I have gathered from Jack's kit, I will hand over to Mr. Chas Findlay to send to you at the earliest convenience.

Believe me, yours truly,
Chas. Traill, Lieut…’

A small packet containing Jack’s few personal possessions eventually arrived home to Ballarat. He had only left his wallet, a diary, a few photos and five coins – such tiny tokens of a life lost.