Virtual
War Memorial
Australia

From Ballarat & District in the Great War

Pte Thomas Stanley Fowler

In the halcyon days before the war, a teenager from Geelong came to live and work in Ballarat. He brought with him all the energies and aspirations of youth, and quickly found himself happily absorbed into the community. Looking back, it is hard to imagine what it must have been like not living in anticipation of the suffering war would inevitably bring – it was definitely a before and after scenario that eventually changed life irrevocably. For young Stan Fowler, the impact was indeed far-reaching and the cost all too high.

Born in the Breakwater area of Geelong on 23 July 1894, Thomas Stanley Fowler was the first-born son of Thomas Fowler and Mary Ryan. From an early age he was to be known by the diminutive of Stan to differentiate him from his father and a number of Fowler cousins who also bore the given name of Thomas.

An influx of Irish Catholics prior to the goldrush had seen the establishment of a strong community in the new town of Geelong. The resultant building (and continued development) of St Mary of the Angels church in Yarra Street was to play an important part in the lives of both the Fowler and Ryan families.

Whilst Thomas Fowler was born in Kilkenny, Ireland, Mary Ryan was Geelong-born. Her parents were both Irish – her father, Patrick Ryan, coming from County Clare and her mother, Honora Molony, from County Tipperary.

For Mary Ryan, life had been anything but easy. She was the eldest of six girls and had begun her connection to St Mary’s from her baptism on 8 April 1861. When their mother died from tuberculosis on 7 January 1872, Mary and her sisters were placed in Our Lady’s Girls’ Orphanage, Geelong, just three days later.

It was a deeply unsettling time for the girls. Four of her sisters were “removed by friends” from the Orphanage – Kate in 1877, Bridget in 1878, Margaret in 1880, and Anne in 1882. The youngest, Ellen, who was just a few months old when she was left at the Orphanage, died there on 16 May 1876.

Nobody came for Mary. She was finally discharged from the Orphanage on 1 Jan 1879 and “sent out” as a teacher. However, she was working as a servant when she married Thomas Fowler at St Mary’s on 14 January 1892.

The connection with St Mary’s continued with baby Stan’s baptism on 29 July 1894. Thomas and Mary’s subsequent five children were also welcomed into the church. Sadly, two died as infants.

The children (girls and infant boys) of the St Mary's parish were taught by the Sisters of Mercy at the St Mary’s Hall. The boys’ school was under the headship of Mr N. J. Cooke. As premises go, the St Mary’s school was very basic, but Stan received a sound grounding in his basic education and developed a strong connection to his Catholic faith.

Stan’s first major job after leaving school was as a driver for the Geelong Butter Factory. Taking over the local round required him to leave home and move to Ballarat. The local Catholic community quickly took the young man into the fold – he joined the congregation at St Patrick’s Cathedral, as well as the local branch of both the Christian Young Men’s Society (holding the office of president in 1914) and the Hibernian Catholic Benefit Society. He boarded with a young couple from the church, Harold and Mary Winifred Smith, at 409 Urquhart Street. Harold, who was just two years older, had much in common with Stan and the two became firm friends.

It was on the sporting field that Stan Fowler was to have perhaps his greatest impact. Playing in the centre for the Ballarat Football Club in 1914, he showed considerable promise. He further cemented his place in the following season, starting in the pivotal position at centre half-forward. In April 1915 he was selected in a representative Ballarat Football League team to play the annual match against Geelong; then, on 12 June, he was picked to play against St Kilda in a match to raise aid for the Belgian and Servian Funds. Playing for St Kilda was the legendary Roy Cazaly.

However, before the 1915 football season was over, Stan had decided to enlist in the AIF.

On 14 July 1915, Stan presented himself to the medical officer, Doctor Frank B. Crawford, at the Ballarat Recruiting Depot. Although he was just 5-feet 5¾-inches tall and a fairly slight 9-stone 12-pounds, he had an expanded chest measurement of 35-inches. Interestingly, Dr Crawford recorded Stan as having a dark complexion – the only photograph available of the young man appears to indicate that he had a typically Irish appearance with rather fair skin, blue-grey eyes and black wavy hair.

After being passed fit, Stan completed his paperwork by naming his father as his next-of-kin and organising an allotment for his mother. He finally signed his oath to serve King and country on 26 July.

In the interim, on 22 July, presentations to men going into camp had been made during the weekly dance held by the CYMS at St Patrick’s Hall in Dawson Street. Stan was presented with a ‘beautiful wristlet watch.’ He also submitted a formal letter of resignation from the Ballarat CYMS.

The day after signing his oath, Stan went straight into camp. Because he had been exempted from compulsory military service, he had no prior training. He had, however, registered with the 70th Infantry Regiment in Ballarat, but had not had any equipment issued to him.

On 13 October, it was confirmed that Stan had been posted to the 6th reinforcements for the 24th Infantry Battalion – the famous Red and White Diamonds – with the regimental number 2636.

After three months training, Stan was on his way to Egypt; he sailed from Melbourne on 27 October onboard HMAT Ulysses.

Little is known of Stan’s time in Egypt. He had been in camp outside Cairo for over six weeks when, on 18 January 1916, he was admitted to the 3rd Australian Auxiliary Hospital suffering from influenza. A week of rest saw Stan fit to return to the Base Details at Zeitoun.

At this time the AIF was undergoing a major expansion following the unsuccessful Gallipoli Campaign, new units were raised and transfers were completed to secure the numbers required to bring battalions up to full fighting-strength. As a result, Stan Fowler found himself transferred to the 7th Infantry Battalion; he joined his new unit at Serapeum on 24 February.

Stan was soon on the move. He left the Serapeum camp at 16:20 on 25 March and travelled by train through to Alexandria. There the transport Megantic had been assigned to carry the 7th and 8th Battalions across the Mediterranean. They embarked at 0600 on 26 March. The Megantic was ‘a fine vessel’ and ‘even the men are berthed in cabins, which is alright for them, but to the orderly officers it is a pest. He is just like a farmer digging up potatoes out of a field when he wants anyone for fatigues, & etc.’

With submarine drills clearly adhered to, ‘it was impressed upon all ranks that they must not on any account move about without their life-belts on, and at night-time it must be under his pillow ready for use.’ Things became rather rough three days out to sea – a very heavy swell on 30 March continued into the following day and the ship ‘rolled and pitched badly all night.’ By morning, two-thirds of the men were sea-sick. Fortunately, Marseilles was soon in sight and dry land was reached at 19:30 on 31 March.

As Stan and his comrades travelled through France, the only certainty was they were heading towards the Front, but their actual ‘destination was unknown.’ It was a long three day-trip onboard a draughty troop train (that was made for the transport of horses) before they reached Godewaersvelde near the Belgian border. Of course, the troops had quickly decided this was simply unpronounceable and had renamed the small village “Gertie Wears Velvet.”

The 7th Battalion reached Fleurbaix on 29 April. Although Stan was still behind the firing line, he was now experiencing first-hand the inherent dangers of being this close to the trenches – enemy aircraft were very active in the sector and the battalion soon suffered its first casualties.

On 13 May, the 7th Battalion moved into the breastwork trenches forward of Fleurbaix. It was here that Stan first came under enemy shellfire. But it was the incessant bombardment at Pozieres where he would understand what men described as ‘the lid being left of hell.’

They neared Albert on 20 July, but owing to no safe room being available, the men were forced to bivouac half a mile west of the town. Even there they were not safe from the enemy and a gas alarm alerted them to the dreaded weapon bursting in the vicinity of Albert.
The 7th Battalion entered Sausage Valley on 22 July in preparation for the attack on Pozieres – the assault beginning at 2400 the same day. Over the coming days, Stan was positioned in the trenches north of Contalmaison. It was exhausting and incredibly dangerous work with five days of unrelenting shelling and gunfire. By the time they were relieved during the night of 27 July, those surviving troops were almost dead on their feet. ‘…The men were heartily glad to get into a comparatively safe place so they could have a sleep as they were just about done; they recovered their spirits wonderfully after a few hours rest and would not have minded if they were ordered again into Pozieres the same day…’

It took a second tour of Pozieres for the enemy to finally get Stan Fowler. The 7th Battalion returned to Pozieres on 15 August and held a position in the right sector. They took over the frontline from the Tramway to the Bapaume Road three days later, with the German artillery using the remains of the Windmill – a strategic high point – to pound the Australian troops. Stan was caught by a shell blast, suffering shrapnel wounds to his right foot. He was admitted to the 4th Field Ambulance on 19 August, before being transferred to the St John’s Ambulance Brigade Hospital in Étaples.

On 25 August, he embarked from Calais onboard the Hospital Ship Brighton and was admitted to the 5th Northern General Hospital at Leicester later the same day. Stan was able to send a cable to his cousin, James B. Fowler – it read simply: Wounded in foot. His family was eventually informed through official channels that the wound was severe.

Writing to Harold Smith on 28 August, Stan said he had been wounded in fighting around Pozieres on 18 August (as opposed to 19 August as recorded in his records), but he assured his friend that the wound was ‘not serious, a shell bursting in the vicinity where I was, resulting in a piece of shrapnel penetrating the right foot, and cutting it in five places.’ While he was at the dressing station, he had met Ballarat boy, Stan Allen, who had been wounded in the left leg. He had also seen Bert Lyons and Will Cleary, fellow members of the HACBS. They had both been well at the time. (Unfortunately, Lyons suffered a gunshot wound to his right ankle on 3 September, and Cleary was posted wounded and missing on 26 August and was later confirmed killed in action).

After nearly seven weeks in the 5th Northern General, Stan was transferred to the 1st Australian Auxiliary Hospital at Harefield on 11 October. A Medical Board found that the wounds were healed, but still required some massage, no doubt to help break down scar tissue. As a result, he was transferred to the No2 Command Depot at Weymouth. But it would be another three months before he returned to the Western Front.

When Stan reached his unit on 15 January 1917, the 7th was in training at Warloy just outside Albert.
Just a few days prior to the First Battle of Bullecourt (on 11 April), Stan was forced to report sick to hospital with scabies – an infestation of the human itch mite that were rife in the trenches. He was admitted to the Australian Scabies Station for treatment on 7 April. Scabies was one of the most common trench ailments and it took several days to eradicate the parasites. The most successful process involved being rubbed with soft soap for fifteen minutes before spending twenty minutes in a warm bath. During the last five minutes a soft brush was used to scrub the infected areas to expose the mites and eggs under the skin. The patient was then dried and covered from neck to foot in a sulphur ointment. Over the next two days the ointment application was repeated, before a second bath on the fourth day. All clothing and bedding were replaced and personal items, including watchbands, strings holding identity discs, and socks, were also disinfected. Stan underwent this process before being discharged on 12 April and re-joining his unit two days later.

A heavy German counter-attack on the 3rd Brigade front on the morning of 15 April had the men on high alert to be ‘ready to move at a moment’s notice.’ The 7th entered the trenches at Pronville soon after, and then participated in the brief advance towards the Hindenburg Line, south of Quéant, as part of the Second Battle of Bullecourt. They were withdrawn on 9 May and did not return to the line until the Third Battle of Ypres in September. Stan then fought through the battles of Menin Road and Broodseinde Ridge.

The 7th Battalion remained in the Ypres Sector as winter closed in.

Christmas Day at Denys Wood was bitterly cold, with snow falling on an off all day; but it was quiet. Boxing Day had continued in much the same way. As night fell, however, the Germans shelled the Reserve Company, putting over around 300 mustard gas shells that quickly blanketed an area of around 500 square yards. Seven officers and four “other ranks” were gassed. One of those men was Stan Fowler. Strangely, according to his records, he was not admitted to the 1st Australian Field Ambulance until 6 January 1918 – a full eleven days after the event. Perhaps the severity of his exposure was not immediately obvious, but he clearly knew the date when he was gassed. He was treated at the 1st Australian Casualty Clearing Station before being transferred to the 2nd ACCS further up the line. Ambulance Train 32 then carried him through to Boulogne on the French coast, where he was admitted to the 54th General Hospital on 12 January. He had quickly developed conjunctivitis in both eyes, lost his voice as the gas affected his larynx, and suffered from nasal catarrh with a blockage on the right side.

As his symptoms worsened the decision was made to evacuate Stan to England. He embarked on 16 January onboard the Hospital Ship St David, his destination was the 2/1st Southern General Hospital in Dudley Road, Birmingham. After assessment, he was transferred to Harefield on 22 January. It was concluded that, although the damage was not regarded as permanent, his disability at this point was seventy per cent. He was plagued by headaches, bronchial catarrh and shortness of breath and severe chest pain over his heart on exertion. His eyesight had been damaged with significant loss of sight in both eyes and a degree of exophthalmos – bulging of the eyeball. Whilst there was no indication of heart murmurs, it was evident that the gas had caused some damage and he was ‘much debilitated.’

On 7 February, Stan was discharged from hospital and travelled back to the No2 Command Depot at Weymouth, where he awaited an early return to Australia. He sailed home on 13 March 1918, for an intended six-month change of climate. Eternally optimistic, and possibly not fully understanding the true nature of these new chemical weapons, the authorities still believed that Stan would make a full recovery with the chance that he may still return to active duty. However, a Medical Board at the No11 General Hospital in Caulfield on 14 June, disclosed Stan’s condition. He was still experiencing significant symptoms and an incapacity of a half his usual physicality.

At the meeting of the Ballarat CYMS on the 25 June, Stan was able to attend as a special guest. He was greeted with a hearty ovation and ‘expressions of welcome’ were added by the chairman and other members of the group. Most importantly, these moments were seen as a return to much needed normalcy.

Stan also travelled to Geelong, where on 25 July the residents of Breakwater accorded him a formal welcome home. They presented the young soldier with a gold watchchain ‘as a mark of esteem.’ In return, Stan thanked all present and expressed his gratitude for the ‘handsome gift.’ His most fervent wish, however, was ‘that it would not be long before we welcome all the rest of the boys back again.’ The ladies then handed around refreshments and dancing continued until midnight.

When Stan was again assessed by a Medical Board, he was still found to be suffering from headaches, shortness of breath, and precordial pain. His lungs were also in a poor condition. Although he was now evaluated as having an incapacity of a third, it was clear he was not fit to return to the firing line. So, on 27 July 1918, Stan was discharged from the AIF as medically unfit.

As it turned out, Stan was back in Ballarat when the Armistice was signed and heard the bells all over the city ring out that the war was finally over. It was an unforgettable moment.

At the Mechanics’ Hall on 11 December, Stan appeared, alongside his friend, Harold Smith, with the Ballarat Dramatic Company in a production of “The Black Flag.” The pair performed the roles of Warder Slick and Warder Jones (Stan) of Portland Island. An ‘efficient orchestra’ accompanied the production under the direction of Allan Payne, another returned soldier. A substantial donation was made from the box-office takings to the St Joseph’s Home garden fete.

Stan had resumed boarding with the Smith family in Urquhart Street and found work as a carpenter. He was also soon fit enough to return to the football field. In June 1919, he was selected to represent Ballarat in a match against the Melbourne Football Club. He also played cricket for the Ballarat Hibernians (HACBS).
After several seasons with the Ballarat club, Stan was named as vice-captain in 1922. But it was to be his last year with the Swans. In 1923, he returned to his family in Geelong, living in Barwon Road and working as a labourer in the engineering shop at the Excelsior Woollen and Worsted Mills.

Stan’s involvement in sport continued unabated. He became a delegate to the Geelong Industrial Cricket Association and was secretary of the Excelsior Mills team. As a player, he also turned out for the football teams representing Excelsior Mills and the Hibernians.
Socially, Stan was well known at the Barwon Club Hotel. He also maintained his long-standing connection to St Mary of the Angels. Across all aspects of the community, Stan Fowler was both popular and respected.

Unfortunately, Stan’s health began to deteriorate quite suddenly and the long-term effects of his exposure to mustard gas resulted in him being hospitalised at the Kitchener Memorial Hospital. He died there on 8 July 1928, with the immediate cause of death found to be ‘complications brought about through being badly gassed in France’ [noting that it was a common mistake to forget Belgium in these instances.]

The funeral, which was held at St Mary’s the day after Stan’s death, was largely attended by family, friends and the members of the Excelsior Mills Football Club, Hibernian Club, and Excelsior Mills Cricket Club. Many other football clubs and sporting bodies were also represented. The long procession, which included a number of returned servicemen, then made its way to the Geelong Eastern Cemetery. The polished coffin, covered with the Union Jack, was carried to the grave by Stan’s brother, Vincent, and his cousins Frank, Ned and Jack Fowler.

According to medical sources, there was seen to be no significant shortening of life after being gassed during the war. There was naturally an inherent fear of chemical weapons at the time, but it was generally believed that, depending on the type of chemical, death from gas exposure would not happen quickly – it would take years for the damage to the delicate mucous membranes throughout the body to become apparent. This particular case would certainly appear to contradict the medical findings: Stan Fowler was just 33 - two weeks short of his 34th birthday.