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War Memorial
Australia

Son of Charles BLADEN of Glasgow, Scotland

When he returned from Gallipoli the men of the 6th Field Ambulance presented him with a beautiful gold cup, suitably inscribed, for his many kindnesses to them on the Peninsula, and with a silk shawl for Mrs. Bladen.

DEATH OF REV. A. P. BLADEN
45 Years of Service

The death occurred suddenly yesterday morning at his home at Blackburn of the Rev Albeit Percy Bladen. Mr Bladen retired from the active ministry of the Methodist Church this year, after 45 years of varied service. He was born at Newcastle - on - Tyne, England, in 1865. He went to New Zealand when aged 19 years, and became a local preacher. He came to Victoria In 1889, and served for a year as a home missionary in the Dandenong circuit, in 1890 ho was accepted as a candidate for the ministry, and served in the following circuits:- Alexandra, Natimuk, Williamstown. Warragul, Pyramid Hill. Ararat, New Town (Tasmania), Launceston (Tasmania), Maryborough, Malvern, St. Kilda, Canterbury, ,Brighton, and Hawthorn.

In the Great War he served with distinction as a chaplain on active service In the A.I.F. He was padre to the 23rd Battalion, A.I.F., and received the Order of the British Empire. In 1904 he was appointed senior chaplain for Victoria, and recently chaplain-general of the Commonwealth. In 1920 Mr. Bladen was appointed secretary of the Methodist Conference, and in 1921 was elected President of the Victoria and Tasmania Conference.

In the Masonic fraternity ho was a Past Master of the Boroondara Lodge, and Past Grand Chaplain of the Victorian and Tasmanian Grand Lodges.

At the Denham street Methodist Church, Hawthorn, at 10 a.m. today a memorial service will be held, and the cortege will arrive at the Melbourne Cemetery, Carlton, at 11' a.m. Arrangements are by LePine and Son Pty. Ltd.

The Argus Saturday 26 December 1936 page 9

Rev. A. P. Bladen's Funeral

There was a large attendance of soldiers, clergymen and friends it the funeral of the Rev Albert Percy Bladen retired Methodist minister at the Melbourne General Cemetery on Saturday morning. Mr Bladen who was senior chaplain for Victoria and chaplain-general of the Commonwealth died suddenly at his home at Blackburn on Friday. The President of the Methodist Conference of Victoria (the Rev C C Dugan) conducted a memorial service in the Denham street Hawthorn Methodist Church Professor Albiston of Queens College delivered the address and the Moderator of the Presbyterian General Assembly, (the Rt Rev Irving Davidson) pronounced the benediction. After the service 60 Methodist clergymen lined the pathway to the church and at the gates of the Melbourne General Cemetery members of the 23rd Battalion Association formed a guard of honour Mr Bladen was padre to the battalion during the war . The service at the graveside was conducted by Mr Dugan and a Masonic service was conducted by the Rev W E Jennings chaplain of the Boroondara Lodge Camberwell. Funeral arrangements were made by Le Pine and Son Pty Ltd

The Argus Monday 28 December 1936 page 8

From Gallipoli, 1915

Captain Albert Percy Bladen, Chaplain attached 23rd Battalion Australian Infantry, wrote from his dugout on 18th September 1915.

“As you will see by the above address, we are at last at the front. We had at thrilling experience during the voyage from Alexandria to Lemnos. As you will no doubt have learned from the cables, one of our troopships was torpedoed [HMT Southland]. The boat [H.M.T. Haverford] on which I sailed was two hours behind it. We slowed down and stood by when we got near, and took on board some of the troops, 44 of them, who were adrift on an unturned boat. The casualties were comparatively small, about 40 in all, but including our Brigadier-Colonel Linton, who died from shock and heart failure after being rescued from the water. The torpedoed boat itself did not sink, but managed to make Lemnos under her own steam, although she had a considerable list. Had she been stricken amidships instead of forward, the loss of life would have been appalling. We ourselves had a very narrow escape. A submarine fired at us, but fortunately the torpedo passed about 15 yards astern.

“After staying one day at Mudros, the port of Lenmos we transhipped and came across to this far-famed peninsula, a run of about five hours. We landed at night, being towed ashore in lighters. We then marched for a mile or two to our halting place, which, curiously enough, was called Rest Gully. We were very heavily laden. We were only allowed to bring from Egypt what we could carry on our backs. The way was steep, and when we came to our journey's end at 2.30 a.m., we just threw off our packs and lay down on the ground where we were, with all our clothes on just covered with a blanket. And there, in spite of the fact that bullets whistles over us, and shells screeched and big guns boomed, we slept or otherwise spent our first night on the Gallipoli Peninsula.

“It was a strange sight which met our eyes next morning. Our fellows were all along the gulley, which was honeycombed both sides with dug-outs, mere holes in the hillside. We took possession of these, and lived in them like rabbits, prudently withdrawing when shrapnel was in evidence. The whole scene, with its moving figures, its small fires, the holes in the ground, the trenches and heaps of up thrown earth, looked singularly like an Australian mining camp; it was difficult to believe that we were there with the intent to kill. And that was Sunday! What a contrast to the Sundays at home, with their quietness and worship! I shared a dug-out that night with our medical officer, Dr. Green, late of our Punt Road Church, and Major Baird M.L.A., for Ballarat West. Our heads and bodies were in a hole, our legs were under the stars.
“We moved the next day to a place called Brown's Dip, contiguous to the trenches now named by our soldiers. It is at this place that I am now sitting in my dug-out writing this letter. For a dug-out, it is quite a commodious and convenient residence. It was occupied at one time by the Dean of Sydney, and later by a Father M'Auliffe, whose battalion we relieved. It is about six feet square, with a height varying from 4½ feet at the entrance, to 5½ feet at the back. A strip of about 20 inches wide is dug out out of the centre of the floor to a further depth of about one foot. I sleep at one side of the middle trench. At the other end of the side is the entrance. The front, with the exception of the entrance space, is a wall of sandbags. There is no door. I am right at the top of the gully, and can look down almost the whole length, and out on to the deep blue of the Aegean Sea. Not many miles across is the island of Embros, where Sir Ian Hamilton has his headquarters, the rocky headlands of Samothrace, familiar to readers of Pauline history. The sun dips into the sea at night just midway between these islands, and paints in the act pictures of incomparable beauty, constant in their magnificence, yet always changing in their details like the successive productions of a master artist.

“At this place we are engaged in trench warfare, and I visit our boys there every day. In this class of fighting there is not nearly the expenditure of life which is the case when positions have to be won and ground gained. So far, we have not had many casualties. I have seen the shells falling in our gully, digging their way into the earth, and then tossing it up with the explosion like a volcano, and I have watched the shrapnel thrash the ground like hail, but a very small number of our boys have been hit. Some of course, have been more or less severely wounded, and some will never return to those who gave them up in love, and fear, and hope.” [1]

[1] 'The Methodist' (Sydney, New South Wales), 6th November 1915.

See picture of Bladen's Dugout