Virtual
War Memorial
Australia

‎Burny Whyte‎, Aussies & Kiwis for ANZACs

Pte William Douglas WHITE

On this day, 105 years ago - I think of a young Private; only 19 years old - from a small country town in rural Tasmania about to go into battle for the very first time. He stood on the deck of the Merchant Ship Novian, in the cool stillness of a morning in the Dardanelles, waiting to go ashore as part of B Company, 5th Infantry Battalion, 2nd Brigade, 1st Australian Imperial Force; his Brigade was made up of volunteers from Victoria, Tasmania and South Australia. His pack heavy on his shoulders, the straps biting into his skin through his course wool Battledress Jacket - because together with his normal 60 rounds of .303 ammunition, his marching order and entrenching tool, he was also weighed down by an extra ration of Bully Beef, Hard Biscuits, Tea and Water; as well as tools for building trenches and spare sandbags. His Battalion was part of the second wave of troops to land on what was to become known as ANZAC Cove. His name was William Douglas White, my Great Uncle Doug, the first in our family to bear the Rising Sun on his uniform; but not the last to carry it into combat. It was the 25th of April 1915, it was a Sunday - and Uncle Doug must have thought he would rather have been at Church back at home in Tassie.

I often wonder what Doug was thinking in the twilight as he climbed down the cargo nets alongside the Novian and into the long boats that would carry them ashore. As they rowed towards the beach he must have worried about going overboard and drowning if he couldn't release his heavy pack and equipment. Could he have heard Lieutenant Prisk, from Mt Barker in South Australia, a Platoon Commander in the 6th Battalion, standing in the stern of his longboat coaching his men to row hard under the air bursting shells from the Turkish guns ashore? How fearful was he as he watched the Turkish Artillery Batteries at Gaba Tepe rip into the Australian Battalions of the 1st Brigade ahead of him as they tried gain a foothold on the rocky slopes. How did he muster the courage to leap from that long boat and race ashore as the beach was raked by machine gun fire from above? How distant was his small town of Railton in Northern Tasmania now and the little foundry run by my Great Grandfather Phillip, where Uncle Doug had been a Blacksmith. How could that have only been less than 8 months before? He hadn't hesitated when the call to arms had come, he had farewelled the family and with their blessing bought passage on a ship to Melbourne, where he enlisted on the 17th of August 1914. He was one of the first ANZACs, attested too by his Regimental number: 221. Now he was in the place where the first ANZACs were to carve their name into history.

It was on that beach Doug was faced with the brutal reality of war; men, some his friends, others strangers, screamed in agony as they were wounded around him, some sobbed pitifully and died of their wounds, mercifully for others death came instantly. The smell of blood, cordite, smoke and sweat must have stung his nostrils as word was passed about 5 Battalions new mission. Originally they were supposed to lead the Brigade Advance inland, in front of Brigade Headquarters; however early casualties and the ferocity of Turkish defences saw them reassigned to a new task. They were to help secure a feature called Plateau 400, adjacent to Baby 700 and on a ridge line that was to become part of ANZAC folklore known as Lone Pine. The 2nd Brigade was to re-enforce the firing line established by the 3rd Brigade and hold the high ground above ANZAC Cove. I’m sure Doug took a deep breath and swallowed his fear to try and steel himself for the horror that was about to occur over the next few hours.

The fighting was fierce and at times hand to hand, many died, many more were wounded. Doug survived, amazingly unscathed. Half of the 1st Australian Division was lost that first day fighting for the ridge lines above the beach. Doug dug-in with what remained of 5 Battalion on the night of 25 April 1915 and fought on there. Then 10 days later the Battalion marched on Cape Helles and the battle of Krithia. Returning back to ANZAC Cove he continued to fight until he was wounded in the leg from Artillery shrapnel at the end of May. He was evacuated to Malta, but recovered and returned to his Battalion in time for the Battle of Lone Pine in August 1915. He survived that too. He continued to fight with the 5th when they were redeployed to France and the Western Front; he did so through his bouts of dysentery, fever, trench foot and even an AWOL charge. He and his Battalion rotated into the line and fought in the Somme, Pozieres, Bullecourt, Ypres, Menin Road, Polygon Wood, Passchendaele, Amiens, the Hindenburg Line and Flanders. He fought alongside his younger Brother, Albury, a Machine Gun Platoon Commander. He saw the war out fighting in the 5th and in 1918 he was demobilised, having remained at the lofty rank of Private.

Unfortunately, Doug, like so many others, was lost after the war. His health never returned, his mind was damaged by his ordeal - he was unable to enjoy the peace he and his mates had fought so hard to secure.

He died a broken man, unmarried and alone in the Caulfield Repatriation Hospital in Victoria in 1940 at the age of 45. His four brothers, my other Great Uncles, and my Grandfather, couldn’t visit him on his death bed as they too had all heeded the call to arms and were already involved in the Second World War. Unfortunately Doug’s story is the same of many veterans that returned from the First War and from the wars that followed.

Of the 4 Million Australians in 1914; 330,000 of them fought in the First World War; 3 in every 40. 60,000 of them didn't come home. That's 3 in every 200 or 1.5% of the population - dead. Horrific figures I'm sure you'll agree and un-fathomable by today's standards.

ANZAC Day is not a celebration of war. It is a day we commemorate our war dead, remember gallant acts and sacrifices, reflect on how we can better help those who survived and that are still affected by war. But most importantly we remember the futility of war and hope that we shall not embark on such a foolhardy endeavor again.

So today, remember the rough men of ANZAC, (I will remember a Blacksmith from Tasmania named Doug), honour the fallen, and contemplate the legacy and burden that subsequent generations of ANZACs carry with them. For it is a heavy toll that is paid by them and their families, for them to have earnt the honour to bear the Rising Sun on their uniforms.
#ANZAC #LestWeForget #WeWillRememberThem