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A brief history of the Preece family in South Australia.
Written by Ben Matthews, great, great grandson of Alexander John Preece.


~1~
~ Allan Preece, son of Alexander ~
Allan was thirty-six when he bolted out of a trench in an attempt to charge up a narrow ridge with 149 other Australian soldiers of the 8th Light Horse battalion. Only two minutes before, 150 Aussies had already been gunned down, for trying the exact same feat, while serving their country at Gallipoli. Allan never had children of his own, yet he was a family man through and through. With that said, I think we should start at the beginning.

His father, Alexander John Preece, was proud of his first born son, but like so many dads, he had never taken the time to tell him. Alex was born in Mount Gambier, in South Australia’s South-East. It’s a beautiful place, a big blue lake that doubles as a water supply, where the water congregates into an old inactive volcano. Talk about mysterious, I know, right. Alex’s father was a convict from Somerset, in England and, to cut a long story short, he married and made his way to Mount Shank, another inactive volcano in the Mount Gambier region. Not as big though, but the soil is fantastic for farming, which was how they made a living there.
Life in Mount Gambier was far from complex, yet there was plenty of work to be done. Alex was the youngest of eleven children, of which eight of them were boys. Growing up as the youngest is most often met with mixed emotions. Everyone else in the family has more experience, more educated and has had more life lessons to learn from. While as a toddler, Alex was learning to crawl while everyone else is either walking past or running rings around him. When Alex finally learned to run, everyone else is taller and faster, even if they are only two years older. Being the youngest is like being the runt of the litter, always being pushed aside and your opinion is flawed with inexperience and ignored. Yet when there is work to be done, you’re expected to not only pitch in, but catch up. Consequently, Alex hated the farming lifestyle since he could never get approval for what he could do, and because it was family, he was ridiculed for what he couldn’t do. If he tried to argue or discuss his poor treatment, his brothers were not only bigger, they had no problem giving him a fat lip or a bruised rib. Plus their father thought that fighting was a natural part of growing up. Headlocks were the easiest and most common form of torture from his siblings, which is why Alex chose a profession that got him away from farming and away from his family. Horse training became his passion, but training was not about bullying animals into submission, as most people saw it, it was about respect between a horse and its rider. For the horse, it was about learning a new language, and learning about teamwork. It took time and patience, before a horse would accept a rider. All Australians had respect for these animals, especially since they were the biggest and strongest in the relationship. You can’t call the family horse a pet, but they were well looked after as if they were one. A rider bonded with their horse as if the horse was their big brother, their comrade in arms, or even their best buddy. A horse and rider was a partnership that is more like an inseparable friendship, and just like teamwork, one has to lead so that the others can follow. To train these horses is an emotional rewarding experience when they are handed over to their owners, giving Alex, not only great personal reward but an income as well. It gave him self-confidence and self-belief, which was enough fuel to find a partner.

As Alex was approaching his mid-twenties, Jane Lamont, the love of his life had become pregnant and everything was about to change. Alex had invited his Auntie Jane to the wedding, although she had moved to Casterton, in Victoria, about ten year before when she married Robert Lambert. Although Alex didn’t think she would come to their wedding, he didn’t realise that Auntie had a proposition for the young couple, to go back with her and train horses. They wasted no time in getting there.
The wedding was in 1877 and in May the same year, there was a sports thingy, O’ yes, the Victorian Football Association was formed. It should keep the city folk busy on the weekends. Chester won the Melbourne cup that year and the population was estimated to have reached the two-million mark. It had not even been ninety year since the first fleet, and already people were worried if the country could sustain so many people. Anyway, back to Alex.
The baby was a girl, and they named her Margaret Jane Preece. They named her 'Margaret' after Alex’s mother and 'Jane' to honour his Auntie Jane. Alex was not that accustomed to babies, or young children for that matter. He may have come from a large family, but as the youngest, he spent more time trying to win the approval of his older siblings or would be off on horseback when infants were around and Auntie Jane already had three children. Alex’s role as a horse trainer also spilled over into droving, which meant some nights were spent sleeping under the stars and with a baby home, that’s exactly what he preferred. He would boil the billy over a campfire and hunt rabbit to satisfy his hunger. He also made damper, which is bread that is left to cook overnight in the coals of an extinguished flame. Fresh damper in the morning would almost melt in your mouth, but there was work to be done as well. The horses needed water and grazing the night before, and in the morning it was saddling up the horses and get those sheep to their new owner. This was the reality that Alex understood, he had no idea why babies cry.
Casterton was open terrain and sometimes neighbours were too far away for socialising, but luckily Jane was with family. Uncle Robert and Auntie Jane kept that isolated feeling down to a minimum, as well as advise and help Margaret with the baby, from their vast experience of raising three of their own. This gave her time to do her cross stitch, which she would hang on the wall when she had finished. Her first one said, 'Home, Sweet Home'. Yet she would only do her hobby after she had hand wash all the dirty cloths, made the bed, fed the chickens and made sure the animals had water and the horses had enough feed. These were all tasks that could be done with a child sitting on your hip. It wasn’t long before Jane was expecting another baby. During their three year stay in Casterton, young Allan was born, before work had taken them Southeast, to a place called Sandford. These were supposed to be happy times for a husband and a wife with two children, but for Jane, it was a lot of hard work looking after two children when she became pregnant with the third. Over the next two years little Jane junior and Alexander junior were born. It was now four kids demanding their mother’s attention.
As for Alex, his line of work was consistent with a builder, farmer and drover. He made and mended fences, erected stables and sheds, chopped wood for the fire to stack into a storage shed close to the back door, which unintentionally helped to attract spiders. His biggest building project was the long drop; virtually a hole in the ground with a toilet seat on top. Once that was done, a shed like structure was built around it for privacy, where three walls and a door turned it into an outhouse. It was called an outhouse because it was build out the backyard away from the house to keep the smell away, as well as those god-dam flies. There were thousands of the little buggers, it was ridicules how they found a toilet fragrance appealing. With the necessities complete, Alex found himself spending long hours training horses at the stables, or was away droving, transporting horses and sheep. Even though these were pioneer days when families were semi-isolated and family was the only company, Alex was hardly at home, let alone having input towards the children.

Alex was highly regarded as a competent horse trainer. Even though most people didn’t like his methods, they were impressed with the results. Horses were an invaluable mode of transport as well as extensively used for ploughing and harvesting. They were a necessity for pioneering Australia, as was a good pair of shoes. There were no race horses in his repertoire, but there were plenty of work horses that Alex had trained. Just getting a horse to accept a saddle took time and patience. It was a whole other story to train a good droving horse, as speed and agility were needed to get around the sheep. Riders needed training as well, to get the horse to respond to the bridle so it could be directed and re-directed quickly and swiftly. Then there were the Clydesdale’s, the work horses. These horses were heavy, yet strong and reliable. They were often placed in teams for pulling ploughs, buckboards and wagons. The wagons only needed one or two horses to pull the weight, but ploughing needed muscle, and sometimes there would be six Clydesdale’s to a team, for the soil can be harsh and the days can be long.

When all the horses were trained in Sandford, the family moved to sheep country, to the town of Merino, in Victoria, where their next child was born. When Murdoch arrived, little Margret was seven and Jane was slowly teaching her to help around the house. There was only enough work for a year in Merino before the family travelled across the border to a little town that is not really on the map. The only way to find Teatrick is to look up Teatrick road, a little ways out of Bordertown. Where the road ends, that is Teatrick.

Margaret was ten when her baby brother, John, was the sixth child to be born into the family. Margaret had become like so many other first born children who had been given too much responsibility at an early age. Although she was great with the kids she was also a bully at times. As for the eight year-old Allan, he was starting to rebel against her methods and was prepared to argue with her when she went overboard. Even though he was younger, because he was a boy, he felt he was stronger and might be able to overpower her if it came to a fight. Luckily it never did, however slowly but surely, Allan became compassionate for the younger children as he found himself responding to what seemed like injustice. It was as if he was being caught in the middle, trying to negotiate with his older sister who was demanding and aggressive like their dad, while being punished by his mother when Margaret complained that he wasn’t helping. Allan may have only been eight, but he had already displayed a heart for the underdog. As for his father Alex, he though Allan was long overdue to learn horse-riding. The ability to ride was almost as basic as the ability to walk to these early pioneers. The first time Alex put his son Allan on a horse, he sat high in the saddle and looked down, the ground looks so far away for a young boy. Then the command comes as Alex tells him to kick the beast. The boy had a horrid look on his face as he turned to his instructor. It was a look as if he was stepping into a boxing ring against the heavy weight champion of the world, knowing full well that his destiny was to be beaten to a pulp. With the expression noted by his father, Alex repeats himself, “kick the horse.”
Reluctantly the boy digs his heels into the belly of the beast, and then to his surprise, nothing happens. The horse gives a little shake of the head, but does not move a step. The response from his father was a simple bow of the head in disbelief, although he fully expected the result. He raises his head and with a raised voice says, “Kick the bloody thing”.
The boy tries with all his might to dig his heels into the animal, and then with a raised head, the horse slowly takes a few steps forward. Since the boy didn’t have a tight grip on the reigns, after four or five steps, the horse came to a holt. The horse knew full well that his rider was not in control. It was as if the horse was thinking, ‘either give me some instructions, or I’m off to eat grass.’ A horse needs to understand the intent of the rider for this partnership to work as one, which it can only sense through its bridal, the steering thingy in the horse’s mouth, or by a kick in the horses belly. As for the boy, he eventually learnt that to a big horse, being kicked is hardly noticeable, that is why it required a little more effort. Allan mastered it eventually as did his younger brothers when they were old enough. Alex educated all of his sons in the informal pioneer school of riding, which lay the foundations for their future as drovers and horse trainers.
What they didn’t have was a formal education as schools were still being established and were still not available where these children lived. It was the same for Alex and Jane who themselves could neither read nor write, let alone teach their children the craft. That doesn’t mean that life does not school a child with the skills and education for adulthood. Alex still learnt to train horses and pass on his trade to his children. Jane learnt to cook and the children also learnt to farm, build, clean and communicate in an ever growing family. All the work around the farm was for their survival and money was also needed for the things they couldn’t do.

From Teatrick, it was onward to Custon, which lies in South Australia and buts up against the Victorian border. Alex managed to work for nearly two years in Custon, where Jessie Elizabeth was born. She was a pretty little baby and quiet as well. Some say she was quiet because she received a lot of attention from the other children, especially Margaret and Allan.
It was while in Custon that Alex had learnt that there were workers needed at the railway in Wolseley, just a few miles north of Teatrick. So by 1890, the Preece family had acquired a new home, a new job and another new baby. Mary Ann was adorable. While her mother took care of her, Margaret and Allan were in their teens and were taking good care of their younger siblings. Margaret helped with the washing, which also caused some arguments with the boys since they were notorious for grime and odours, and yet managed to avoid the housework. There was work outside that needed attention, such as chopping wood for the fire. Wood was needed all year round as the stove had to be stocked with wood to do the cooking and to boil the kettle for a cup of tea, which is why everyone congregated into the kitchen, especially in winter. There were small gardens out back to grow a few veggies that went down well at the evening meal and mum cooked the daily bread.
By the time they had moved to Wolseley, Margaret was thirteen and was efficient in her home duties, which meant she had no need for an education. Allan was only eleven and hadn’t been to school before, but even though he already knew how to ride a horse, the school here was close enough to walk. Allan didn’t think he needed an education as he already knew how to ride horses and visioned his future would be as a drover or even a horse trainer like his dad, but Wolseley was where Allan’s maternal instincts were free to shine.

Allan was great at caring for the littlin’s and had great joy escorting them to the school in Wolseley. It was time to get an education. School was slightly different for boys and girls. Although they both received instruction in the basic subjects of reading, writing and maths, the girls also spent 80 minutes of the day sewing, knitting and darning, while the boys spent this time learning geometry, geography and more arithmetic. The days commenced with the teacher inspecting the pupils to see that their face and hands had been washed, their hair combed and their clothes neat and, where necessary, darned. Thirty minutes of each day were also taken up with singing. However, they primarily tried to instill into the children the advantages of being orderly, clean, punctual, decent and courteous. Manners were the first and foremost important quality taught at schools during the pioneer days.

Margaret was so jealous, and if you thought she was a bully before, you should see her now that the others can go to school and she will be the only one to miss out. Allan didn’t know what she was complaining about, since there were only two kids for her to look after. Mum would care for the new born while Margaret would look after John, who was three. The one-year-old, Jessie, she could carry around on her hip while John chased the dog around the back yard. Allan got all the others, Jane, who was nine now, the young eight year-old Alec and Murdoch who was six. Granted, they sort of look after themselves, but if anything went wrong, it was Allan who got the belt. But school was great, it was worth putting up with their angry older sister. Margaret was not one to miss out and at every opportunity got Allan to help teach her to read and write, she didn’t want to be like her illiterate mother Jane, who was almost constantly pregnant, or breast feeding.
As for the provider of the family, Alex got a steady income and steady work on the railways. He was in charge of the horses for Smith & Timms Railway Construction, but the days were long.
The railway station in Wolseley was the hub of the farming industry ever since the railway line had been completed three years before. Grain, sheep and cattle were transported to and from Melbourne and Adelaide, while some of the locals also worked on the railway line, extending it towards Mount Gambier. The working day had remained the same since 1860. 7am starts, and it was all go until 6pm. Dinner better be on the table because a man was hungry when he got home. Alex would be in no mood for dealing with the kids either, children are to be seen and not heard, which was the old cliché that many men lived by during the pioneer days. Besides, it has been a long day and a man needs to wind down, rather than make decisions for children. Jane understood that, and the family worked around it. This was a male dominated world, it wasn’t as if the women had the right to vote or anything.

Alec jr, was so engulfed with Wolseley. After living on a property where your life revolves around the tasks at home, Wolseley was like a treasure to the senses. To an eight year old, it had it all, a school, neighbours, shops and a railway station. It had places to play, such as the grain storage sheds, where a kid would walk on the grain and it would act like quicksand. No-one thought it was dangerous back then. Wolseley was virtually a small town that also provided their father with a good income and there were horses and sheep on all the surrounding farms.
Over the next nine years, both Allan and Alec were kept in steady work as drovers since they were competent horse riders. There dad not only trained horses well, he also taught the boys to ride confidently, with or without a saddle. Over the years Alex taught his boys everything he knew about horse training so that the horses were reliable and devoted to their owner.

Baby number nine was George. He was born in 1892, and Hannah in 95. When the calendar flicked over to 1896, the Olympics hit the Newspapers. The school teacher at Wolseley was reading the results from the local paper, where most of the medals were won by Americans. However, their interest laid in an Australian from Victoria who won two Gold medals in the running. Our Aussie, Edwin Flack, won the 800 metre and 1500 metre races. The Olympic committee had never heard of Australia and chose the Austrian national anthem to play when Edwin had won. The Union Jack was still raised up the flag pole, which was acceptable since the British had paid for him to get to Athens, where the event was held in Greece. Although Edwin was a competent tennis player, he was knocked out in the first round, which did not deter him from running in the Marathon, the race which was considered the most prestigious event on the Olympic program. However, Edwin did not finish the gruelling 26 mile race because of the local beverages that were on offer along the course. To put it bluntly, Edwin drank a little too much of the delicious wine that was available and collapsed from overindulgence. All the runners were offered the same beverages by the locals, who were just being friendly. The idea was to quench their thirst, not to take them out of the running. Nevertheless, he scored the first two gold medals for the land from downunder, and sent a message to all the young boys, inspiring them for the next Olympics, or at least that was what John was thinking. He would run home from school all excited, racing against all the other kids along the way. They would draw lines in the dirt out the back and pretend they were at the Olympics. John was nine but was always a close second to the fourteen year old Alec. John was fast for his age. The following year, the baby boy of the family was born, August he was named. The older siblings were already set to tease him for it, but they had to wait until he was old enough to understand. Why would anyone name a child after a month, I’ll never know.
1899 was a year to remember, it was filled with mixed emotions. Margaret was turning 22 this year and although by looking at some of the local girls, it seemed that women had to get pregnant before they could get married around here, yet that was not the case for Margaret. His name was Francis and although he was a gentleman, his name was a horrible name for a man. It is not just my opinion, as he grew up he was being teased beyond compare. I guess it toughened him up a bit.
As for Jane, she was pregnant again with baby number twelve. They were hoping for a girl to make it six of each, both six boys and six girls, but Jane was having problems this time. She was forty-four now and most doctors would say she was too old to bear children without a lot of bed rest and frequent hospital care. Allan was nineteen when his younger sister, Susan, was born. A child birth had always been a joyful occasion in the Preece household, but not this time. The doctor said the baby was just not strong enough to survive. Susan only lived for an hour. Allan was accustomed to deaths, but they were animal, such as sheep, lambs or dogs. He had even killed a fox himself once, but that did not compare to losing a sister. The whole family was devastated and it caused division and anxiety at home, and for the younger ones it created problems at school as well. George, Mary, Jessie and John were still at school, but they might as well have not have been. There grades fell away, not that they were that great in the first place, but it was obvious that they were distracted. Grieving is a strange process some times, as they didn’t even realise that their sisters death was the cause of their anger and outbursts. They were kids; they did not have the knowledge to understand their emotions, and counselling was unheard of, it was considered to be for the weak. Murdoch was fifteen that year, so he left school to help out at home. He got a job at the railways with his dad and his two older brothers. Jane was inconsolable for ages, and never had any more children after that. Margaret still got married to Francis Edward Jolly on the 13th of November 1899, at a beautiful church in Strathalbyn. This delightful country town was the attraction of travellers passing overland between Adelaide and Melbourne. The river Angus runs through the town and its population consists of the industrious and the well-to-do people. I would have to say that only the rich can live there, but their hospitality is enchanting, and the surrounding views are picturesque. It was the perfect place for a wedding before they moved to Goolwa to start a better life and a family of their own.


~2~
~ 1900, the turn of the century ~
The turn of the century is an emotional time where everyone seems to look to the future. It marks a time in history that not everyone is able to obtain. We all have new-year’s resolutions, but watching the calendar click over into a new century, makes you think of plans that are much longer than just for a year. We all know we are not immortal and a new century reminds us of our limitations and the desire to make the best of what we have.

As for the athletically minded in the family, their attention had turned again to the newspaper when the repeat of the Olympics occurred in France. The first of the modern Olympics Games were attended by as many as 280 athletes, all male, coming from 12 different countries. However, in 1900 women also competed, although they were dressed in formal attire. I love the tie. Although Frederick Lane won two gold medals in the swimming for Australia, it was the runner, Stan Rowley that the Preece boys wanted to read about. Stan was Australia's only competitor on the athletic field. He entered the sprint races, the 60, 100 and 200 metre events, taking the bronze medal in all three. As for Lane, although he won the 200 metre freestyle and obstacle races, he did not receive any gold medals, but instead was rewarded with two bronze sculptures, one of a horse and the other was of a peasant girl. There were questions left, right and centre about the obstacle event. Apparently there were three obstacles throughout the 200 metre course. Swimmers had to climb over the first two, which was a pole and a row of boats, and swim under the third, which was another row of boats. I’m not surprised that this was the only year it was featured.

By July of 1900 Alex had turned 48 and was struggling with the work at the Railways. He still desired to ride and became a boundary rider at Nalang Station, checking and repairing fences, and again sleeping under the stars. By September, word had reached Wolseley that Margaret had had her first child, a boy that they named Francis Edward Jolly, after his father.

A couple of months later and Alex was in the papers. The headlines in the local newspaper read, 'Bushfire at Bordertown'. Alex had been working at the Nalang station for about five of six months, when a fire broke out that destroyed the Hayes home on Australia day 1901. Police were called in to investigate. Each of the four men who had fought the blaze were questioned, Henry Hayes and his son Edward, Alexander Preece and William Mepstead. Although these men did what they could to extinguish the flames, it got away from them no matter how hard they tried. About five thousand acres were destroyed, along with some fencing and a few head of sheep. Although the evidence points to a discarded cigarette prior to the wind picking up in the area, the police could not substantially conclude as to how the fire started. The only positive conclusion was that it was unintentional.
During the following year, Margaret and Francis returned to Wolseley to live. Margaret had grown accustomed to that big family experience, finding Goolwa isolated and alone. Margaret was happier back in Wolseley, and gave birth to child number two. Ernest Vincent Jolly was born 18th of August 1902. The family was all back together again, be it ever so briefly. Nearly two years had passed and another wedding came knocking on the family door. Jane jr was all of twenty-three when she married William Thomas Natt in 1904 and moved to Victoria to live. Meanwhile Margaret gave birth to another child. Margaret was turning out to be more like her mother than she was prepared to admit. Child number three was Emily Isabel, born in July of 04, while number four, Arthur Gilbert, arrived in June 1906.

1908 was special as August was eleven now. He was having problems at school because of his name, and like me, kids can be cruel. His nick-name started at home, but the other kids soon caught on and began calling him 'Angus'. They say it makes him sound like an angry Scotsman, and why not, he could fight like one. Over time, even his parents started calling him Angus. It’s only a name, but it seemed to have lifted his spirits. When he walked he held his head so high with confidence that he seemed to be two inches taller than he was before. Before the year was out Margaret’s fifth child was a girl, Phyllis Glen, born the 26th of October 1908.
“Thank God,” she said, for it was now three boys and two girls. She was starting to panic that she would be dominated with boys.
The Olympics were special this year. Even though Australia had competed in the last three, this was the first time it was in a combined effort with New Zealand. Australia had a bond with New Zealand as we were both, I won’t say discovered, but we both became part of the English Empire due to a man named Captain James Cook. We share that in common, as well as our location as neighbours in the Southern Ocean. We joined forces to compete in London, and particularly against the British. We were known as the Australasian team, nicked named the ANZ’s and the only gold was won by a Kiwi, Harry Kerr.

The Preece boys would often spend time droving into Victoria and it was in Nhill that Alec jr. met the girl of his dreams. The combination of an industrious woman, having all the energy and buoyancy that characterised so many of the pioneering spirited generations of her day, and the fact that she enjoyed a beer, saw him fall in love with his perfect woman.
Although Minnie had lost both her parents by 1903, and already had a two-year-old daughter, this 27 year old single-mum worked at the 'White Heart Hotel' in Nhill. They had the wedding reception at the pub, and lived at Dimboola in Victoria, where Alec would train horses, just as his father had taught him. They had two children together, the first was a girl in 1909, Alvina, and a boy Cyril in 1912.

Back in Wolseley, Mary was angry at her dad. It was nothing new as he was ruthless and demanding. When he spoke, everyone jumped. It was as if he trained his children the way he trained his horses, to obey without question and to do what was commanded when it is commanded. Mary didn’t want anything to do with him, she hated his ways. At the legal age of twenty-one, Mary not only changed her name, she moved to Bordertown in 1911 and worked as a cook in the Bordertown Hotel. Mary was ready to start a new life and change her name to Sarah, we’ll see who is in control now.

1912 was next, or should I say Jessie was next in 1912. She married Wilfred Barrett. I’m sorry Mr Barrett, but if my name was Wilfred, I would change it. That’s just me, and I did say earlier that I can be cruel when it comes to names. Wilfred whisked Jessie away to Victoria where they married on his parent’s property. They resided in Karang, Victoria, never to return.
Come October of 1912, Margaret had child number six. She was hoping for another girl to make it three of each, but was disappointed, not because it was a boy, but because Jessie had cut herself off from the family just before the baby was born, and now young Ronald Roy Jolly would never get to see his Auntie. Margaret had mixed emotions when the Jolly’s celebrated the birth at their Wolseley home.
The Olympics were on again this year and again Australia had combined with New Zealand. We joined forces to compete in Stockholm, Sweden, where the Olympics became known as the 'Swedish Masterpiece'. They were the best organised and most efficiently run games to date, but there were no medals for the Aussies or the Kiwis.

Back home and young George couldn’t wait to turn twenty-one. As an adult he could make his own decisions, which was to join the army. His riding skills saw him snapped up by the 22nd Light Horse Brigade in August of 1913, two months before he was legally eligible.

At the outbreak of the war, in 1914, life changed for everyone. In January, Alex had fallen from a pile of hay and injured himself. Although the doctor examined him, it was under duress and over time complications set in. By May, Alex underwent an operation at the Royal Adelaide Hospital and found he had cancer eating away at his stomach. He would never dare joke that it was Jane’s cooking, or Jane would make his life a misery more than the cancer.
The news brought Alec jr. from Dimboola, back to Wolseley with Minnie and the three children. They settled in well as it wasn’t long before another addition arrived as Minnie gave birth on the 1st of May to Murtle Mary Jane Preece.
The war started a few months later, on the 28th of July 1914, as the sons of pioneering families flocked to their capital cities to enlist. There were many Australian boys who lied about their age so that they could enlist, thinking that war was a glorious way to make a mark in this world, to belong to something bigger than themselves and do their duty for their country. Plus young boys always think they are invincible, and the girls love a guy in uniform, don’t they?
From among the thousands from all around Australia, it was John to be the first of the Preece boys to sign up for war service. Although George was already in the army, he was still serving on Australian soil.
These Preece boys were accustomed to the conditions of army life. It wasn’t much different from living in the outback, where you just shot at rabbits instead of people. As drovers, they had already spent lonely nights in the country, sleeping under the stars. The poor conditions meant nothing to them, except they could kill a few enemy soldiers for the sake of their country, and protect the land that their family had made their home. They may even feel like heroes in the eyes of their friends, or at least that is what young boys believe in that indecisive head of theirs.

John enlisted on the seventh of September of 1914, six weeks after war had been declared. His big sister was expecting another baby and was somewhat demanding, so John felt now was time to go. He was sent to Egypt where he participated in some mock warfare, but he was destined for the Gallipoli Peninsula with the 12th Battalion.

The boys were indecisive about the cancelation of the 1916, since they loved their sports so much. But since the Games were scheduled for Berlin, it was to be expected.
John sent his dad, Alex, some post cards stating that his troops had left Melbourne on the 22nd of September, and were in Hobart on the 26th, awaiting the Sydney and Brisbane troops. The newspaper in Bordertown had also stated in their October 9th issue, 1914, that there was a message from Berlin stating that the Kaiser had promised to decorate the first German aviator who drops a bomb on the city of London. It was certainly good propaganda to get the locals riled up and complaining to each other about the war.

While John was away, back home Margaret and husband Francis had their seventh baby, Olive Muriel Jolly. They wrote to the Army, hoping they would pass the information on to their brother, regarding his new niece who was born on the eleventh of October. The message read, bring a birthday present for her when you return. He knew full well it was her way of telling him to make sure he comes back alive.

Posting a letter was easy, all you had to do was address the envelope to 'Private John Preece, 12th Battalion', and the army does the rest. Wherever the 12th go, there mail is redirected to follow them wherever they went. You could do the same for any soldier that was fighting the war.
Allan enlisted into the army a week later and was posted with the 8th Light Horse. The regiment was formed at Broadmeadows camp in Victoria, where it became part of the 3rd Light Horse Brigade. They were classed as reinforcements and sailed from Melbourne, arriving in Egypt in March 1915.

John had arrived in Egypt two weeks before Allan. It was a difficult job to track each other down, but they were united briefly before Allan and the 8th Light Horse Brigade sailed for Gallipoli, landing in late May 1915. John shipped off to Gallipoli a week later, in early June, where he began his task of transporting supplies. Normally he transported the horses as well, but the Light Horse were considered unsuitable for the task that had been planned at Gallipoli, however they needed the soldiers, so the Light Horse were deployed without their horses. Within ten days John’s work was done and was shipped back to Egypt, while Allan remained for another two months, bogged down from enemy fire. The two brothers stood on the same patch of ground for over a week, thousands of miles from home, only to have it seem like an adventure that someone else was orchestrating.
For three months, since the April 25th landings at Gallipoli, Australian, New Zealand, British and French troops had been forced to dig in. The Turks, who had the high ground in the Sari Bair range in front of them, kept them pinned down with machine gun fire. The Anzac beachhead had become a stalemate. In August an attack was planned to break the deadlock by capturing the high ground from the Turks. In addition, a number of supporting attacks were also planned; even heavy artillery was in place.

The 8th formed the first two waves for the assault on the Nek. It was early August 1915 when the Australian and British commanders came up with an ambitious plan to seize crucial high ground north of the Anzac positions.
The plan was to distract the attention of the Turks by attacking them at Lone Pine with Australian forces, so that British troops could begin landing unopposed at Suvla Bay, eight kilometres north.
The attack on the mountain ridge, referred to as 'The Nek', was timed for 4.30am the next day. The Nek itself was a narrow ridge where Turkish soldiers were trenched in on the higher side with about 40 separate trenches containing armed soldiers with rifles and machine guns. The terrain was a perfect bottleneck, making it easy for the Ottomans to defend. However, the aim was to knock out some nine to eleven tiers of Turkish trenches.
It was assumed the Kiwis would have captured Chunuk Bair and would be assaulting down the ridge towards the Turks, while the Australians attacked upwards. But pretty much everything went wrong.
Problem one, the New Zealand advance was held up and they hadn’t captured Chunuk Bair, meaning the Kiwis would be a day late and were in no position to support the attack. However, the Australian commanders still opted to proceed.
Plan 'B' was for artillery to bomb the Turkish trenches, rising to a crescendo then halting at 4.30am as the first wave of Australian soldiers charged up the hill.
Because the ridge was narrow, only 150 soldiers could attack at a time. There were to be four waves, two by members of the 8th Light Horse Regiment and two by the 10th Light Horse. Each wave was to advance two minutes apart. The distance to the Ottoman line was a mere 27 metres away (29.5 yards). Soldiers carried coloured marker flags to be waved if they captured any of the trenches to indicate success.

As soldiers crouched in their trench below, they fixed their bayonets and were ready to charge. All of a sudden, the artillery halted seven minutes early. That has been blamed on the failure of the commanders to synchronise their watches and it left the field officers in a quandary - wait or attack? Either scenario had its risk. The soldiers could be caught in a renewed barrage for seven minutes, or wait, which will allow time for the Turks to re-establish their trenches.
They chose to wait and precisely at 4.30am, a whistle blast sent soldiers clambering from their trenches. The Turks were ready. Machine guns and hundreds of rifles opened fire and the Australians fell within ten metres. Lines of soldiers were cut down in the hopeless charge. The second wave was waiting to attack, knowing full well, in two minutes, they are going to their deaths. When the whistle blew, the second wave with Allan Preece, met precisely the same fate. Allan was hit by enemy fire and died where he landed.
By this stage, it should have been called off but someone reported seeing a marker flag in the Turkish trench line, suggesting an Australian had made it to the top.
So the next wave of 150 West Australians were ordered to get ready. By now Turkish artillery had joined in and those waiting clearly knew what was ahead.
Colonel Noel Brazier, commander of the 10th Light Horse, objected to the onslaught, saying this was nothing but "bloody murder".
But at headquarters, acting brigade commander Colonel John Antill insisted the attack proceed. Soldiers shook hands, farewelled each other and charged. They were last seen running forward like schoolboys in a footrace with all the speed they could muster, before they too were cut down.

By now, officers in the line decided enough was enough but Antill again insisted the fourth wave proceed. Colonel Brazier appealed directly to Brigade Commander Colonel Frederic Hughes. For half an hour, soldiers waited as the matter was debated.
Finally, Hughes relented and the fourth wave was told to stand down. But in one of those appalling misunderstandings of war, a wave of the hand was interpreted as the go order and those on the right charged and others followed. Their fate was precisely the same as their fellow Australians.

As the sun rose over The Nek, the ground lay covered with the dead, and dyeing. There was no way to reach the wounded, which meant their fate was to die alone in no man’s land.
From the two units of the 8th Light Horse, 234 had died, of which Allan Preece was one, and another 133 were wounded. The Ottoman machine gunners did not suffer any casualties.

There was an article in the Adelaide Chronicle, published on the 9th of October 1915, titled, 'The Late Private Allan Preece'.
Private Allan Preece, eldest son of Mr Alexander John Preece, of Wolseley, who went to the war on February 8 with the 3rd Reinforcements of the 8th Light Horse, was reported missing. His parents have now received word that he was killed in action on August 7. He was well known in the Wolseley, Narracoorte, Hynam, Dimboola, and Pinnaroo districts, where he had made many friends. He was born at Casterton on July 12, 1879, and remained there with his parents till he was eleven years old. Then he went to Bordertown, and afterwards to Nalang station, where he was educated.
It was sad really to find out your brother had died two months ago, but that was not really the tragedy. The fact that he was gone, never to return, is what caused many a tear to flow.


~3~
~ After Gallipoli ~
The railway station at Wolseley was not just for sheep and grain, passengers could ride the locomotive into Adelaide or Melbourne. Margaret would visit Adelaide frequently when she learnt of a society opening up that supplied information regarding the troops overseas. Margaret and her mother, Jane, became a part of the Wolseley committee that was devoted to passing on information that was obtained from the Cheer-Up Society in Adelaide. Different volunteers would take it in turn to travel by train to Adelaide. They carried a list of soldiers names who had relatives in Wolseley, and would obtain information about their loved ones.
The Cheer-Up Society was a uniquely South Australian organisation established in 1914 by Adelaide businesswoman Alexandra Seager, and businessman William Sowden of the Register newspaper, to provide for the needs of soldiers on the move during the First World War. Staffed largely by women volunteers who cooked and served meals, they also organised formal farewells and the honouree, 'Welcome Home' gatherings for the soldiers. The Cheer-Up Hut provided returning soldiers with a meal and a place to relax that was deemed morally safer than a hotel.
The volunteers were organised into groups representing the regiment of their chosen soldier that was 'fighting at the front'. There were many families whose sons had joined the war from Wolseley. After Allan had died, the Preece family concentrated their attention on John’s regiment, the 12th. After his service at Gallipoli, John returned in Egypt for the next nine months, before being mustered off to France in March of 1916. While John was stationed along the Western Front, back home, his father’s stomach cancer had got the better of him. Alexander died in June at age 65.
Back in France, you could hear John screaming for miles, when on the 10th of July 1916, he got his hand court in a railway coupling after he had loaded the train with horses. He fractured his right hand, and lost the index finger down to the first knuckle. It was only an accident, but John was well experienced with trains as he had done this kind of work back home in Wolseley. It was difficult to tell whether John was being complacent, or distracted by the news of his father’s passing. I guess we will never know.

As for George, he had been with the 22nd Australian Light Horse Brigade for three years now and with his father’s passing, he decided it was time to join the fight overseas. George applied for war service in October, at aged twenty-four. Since he was already an Australian Light Horseman, he soon found himself being shipped off to France to fight on the Western Front with the Fiftieth Battalion. He wondered if he would catch up with John, who had already been sent back to the trenches there after his accident.

The 50th Battalion was an infantry battalion of the Australian Army. George was no longer a light horseman and was poised to take part in the fight along the Western Front in both France and Belgium. He arrived in France in February of 1917.
Meanwhile back home, and just because the Preece women were not at war, doesn’t mean that they were at peace. It was like a bureaucracy slap in the face, where a bungle required a different kind of battle. Margaret had to send a letter to the Red Cross Bureau, asking why the army had taken all her mother’s money from her bank account.
Jane was not accustomed to conflict, and consequently was a 'do as your told' kind of woman. Although she had £68 in her Commonwealth bank account here at Wolseley, the military wanted £47 back from her. They claimed she was overpaid, but the banker took all her money and closed the account. Jane, who cannot read or write, was uncertain if she did the right thing, surrendering her bankbook at the request of the teller.
The problem stemmed from Allan. Out of all the sons that Jane had had, Allan was the only one who had asked the military to send money to his mother. The army regularly sent the funds but rightfully reduced her pension because of it. After Allan was killed, they kept sending the money with her reduced pension. When they realised Allan was no longer entitled to a wage, they rightly demanded the funds back. However, the military neglected that she was entitled to a full pension for the same duration and neglected to reimburse her the difference. Overnight, Jane became broke and destitute. The oldest daughter, Margaret, wrote to the Red Cross Bureau, explaining their financial crisis. The Red Cross responded that they regret that they are unable to assist as the functions of the Bureau is primarily for enquiries from the relatives of wounded, sick and missing soldiers. They made no suggestion of which government departments does deals with deaths or finances, although they recommended that Margaret should communicate with the Cheer-up Hut. The Cheer-up Society is only a volunteer group who Margaret had already stated in her letter to the Red Cross Bureau, that they recommended she should write to them in the first place. So began her illustrious ride on the government merry-go-round.

Meanwhile, in Bordertown, some fourteen kilometres away, Mary Ann, or should I say, Sarah, was planning her wedding. Sarah married in 1917 while John and George were still away. It would seem this dam war was going to last forever, and no-one knew if they were going to even return at all. The war had already claimed one life, and with father gone, “we must make a statement”, declared Sarah, “and that is, 'life must go on'.”
The wedding was held on the 20th of March, less than a week after Jessie’s birthday. We all wish she was here, however it was still great to see so many smiles on the faces of family and friends. I’m not sure who Sarah married, except that his surname was Templar. Maybe he doesn’t want me to know his first name because of my judgement of others. Understandable really, don’t you think. Never mind. If he wants to keep it a secret, we’ll just call him Simon.
Come May, Margaret and husband Francis had baby number eight, a boy. Wolseley needed to replace some of the men that had gone off to war. In respect to the brother that she was the closest too, they named the baby Allan John. He won’t be a Preece like his dear Uncle, but he will help Margaret in remembering his memory.

Late June, back in France, John had earned himself some deserved rest and relaxation. It was while he was on leave that he had his second accident. He caught venereal disease from one of the local brothels. After a week of painful pissing, he got up the courage to tell his doctor that he had a sore penis. After four months the war had taken him to Belgium, and the disease went with him. He saw the doctor there too but there were some nasty treatments in curing the problem. One of which was to insert what was like a tiny umbrella into the eye of the penis, and then open it before it was removed. It was designed to scrape the internal wall in the cannel of the mighty sword, hence the reason why so many soldiers put off having the treatment.

In early 1918, the war against Russia collapsed for the Germans, so their troops began a major offensive on the Western Front. The 50th Battalion assisted in repulsing German soldiers, but not without casualties.
George fought to defend the French town of Villers-Bretonneux. The city was a strategically important road, and the rail-junction of Amiens. To capture the city would have meant that the Germans could have brought artillery in and out of France by train to increase their fire power and inflict greater causalities in the region. The First Battle of Villers-Bretonneux began on the 30th March, when the Germans attacked around Le Hamel but were pushed back. Five days later, the Germans renewed their drive towards Villers-Bretonneux. Part of the German attack fell on the French First Army, causing them to fall back, but their counter-attack regained much of the lost ground. A long line of soldiers from north to south was a combined defence force by British and Australian troops. By the 4th of April the 14th Light Horse Division, around Le Hamel, had fallen back under attack from the German 228th Division.
While the line west of Le Hamel was being reinforced by the arrival of more Australian forces, the Germans resumed their efforts and attacked the defences in the south, at which point Villers-Bretonneux appeared ready to fall. The Germans came within 400 metres of the town but the Australian commander, Colonel Goddard, ordered a surprise counter-attack late in the afternoon, with around 1000 men. They pushed the Germans back, forcing them to retreat from Villers-Bretonneux. Flanking movements by British cavalry and Australian infantry also helped consolidate the British gains.

The 9th Australian Brigade had 665 casualties from their 2,250 soldiers, of which George Preece was one. German casualties were not fully known but there were 498 losses in two of their regiments, while the 9th Australian Brigade recorded 4,000 dead German soldiers along the Western Front and took 259 prisoners.

George was wounded near Le Hamel, when a shell fired from a German tank exploded just beside him. His lower leg took the brunt of a flying piece of metal, embedding deep into his left leg. He also suffered some slight injuries to his knee, groin, ribs and shoulder. The minor injuries healed but the leg had to be amputated from 6" below the knee. He returned to Australia on the 23rd of July 1918.

After the war was won on the 11th of November 1918, John also returned home in time for Christmas. Both John and George received a 'Welcome Home' party at the Cheer-Up Hut in Adelaide. In their four years the society had catered for two-hundred-thousand servicemen.
There was a huge write up in the local paper that went: John Preece, one of the original Anzacs arrived at Wolseley on Tuesday. He is one of the lucky ones, having come through the strenuous four years without a mishap. One brother lost a leg and the other was killed.
'Without a mishap', I won’t tell them if you won’t.

By 1919 Hannah Isabella Preece marries George Nattrass, a good man, or so we believe. The wedding went great with the addition of her two returned brothers who helped to celebrate, but I have to say that honouring your oldest brother in a way that is traditionally for the father, is one I did not expect. She wrote, 'Father – Allan Preece', on her wedding certificate.
My first thoughts were that Hannah had dictated the name of her father to someone else to write on her behalf; Allan, Alec, they sound simular, but that logic would only apply if Hannah couldn’t write, therefore, I must be mistaken. Hannah went to school for at least the duration of her primary school years, or possibly until she was sixteen. That meant she could read and write enough for her to fill in her own wedding certificate. Writing 'Allan' as her father was not an error at all, yet we all know Allan is not her father. Well, Allan is certainly not her paternal father, but he was eighteen when Hannah was born. As we said before, Allan never married, yet he certainly had a heart for children. I feel it is safe to conclude, that since he did not have children of his own, his maternal instincts were directed to his younger siblings, or at least until nieces and nephews come along. So I got to thinking. When Hannah married, she deliberately recorded Allan on her wedding certificate as her father, and not the Alex who never had time for her. It was Hannah’s way of recording the respect she held and the honour that she wished to bestow on her big brother. He deserved the recognition, for he was more like a father than anyone else in her life. It was her way of saying 'Thankyou', to her deceased brother, Allan.

When the war graves unit returned to Gallipoli in 1919, the 'Nek' was strewn with bones of Australian youth lying where they fell four years earlier. Allan, like among so many others were still sprawled across the beach where they died. Most were then buried in mass graves, which is referred to as The Nek Cemetery, beneath the very ground on which they fell.

Back home in Wolseley, Jane was still appealing for her pension, even the Wolseley council were now involved and George had appeared in the papers again.
George Preece, a returned soldier had a sad accident last week. On the 28th of July, he was ploughing a field. As the driver of the plough, George follows his team of six horses and had the misfortune where one of the horses struck a soggy patch. The result was that the horse became a bit ‘touchy’ and got his leg over the chains and began to kick. George was used to his team, so he tried to release the others to save them from being injured. In his effort, he became entangled among the horses, and was caught on a hook. Consequently, he was kicked himself. There was no-one handy at the time and the ‘digger’ had to stand to the battle alone. Finally the horse fell on George and broke his leg. In spite of the injury he hopped around, got the horse free, and went about ploughing till sunset when he took the team home and repaired his own leg. However, it was not his good leg, but his wooden leg that the horse had broken, the one that had been fitted while on active service in the Great War.

By September Margaret had baby number nine. She was only three short of her mother’s total, the mother that she never wanted to be like, however, history does repeat itself, and at times, in the cruellest of ways. Walter Jolly was born on the 29th of August 1920, but by September, he became the last child that Margaret would give birth too. He died at one week old. She cried her eyes out over her loss, and that she had emulated her mother more than she had care too.
George was now twenty eight and he was not getting any younger. He married a beautiful girl of twenty-two on the 30th April 1921. Stella Mary Richardson became his bride, and his mother was elated to see her boy get married. It would be the last wedding she would ever attend. The following year Margaret lost her husband. Francis was aged forty-six when he died in May of 1922 at Wolseley. In December the same year, the 67 year-old Jane lost her battle with the military and her fight against cancer. Some would say the two were linked somehow since she too had suffered with cancer for more than a year.


~4~
~ Their memory ~
It easy for history to get forgotten until someone raises their hand in the air and asks, “Did that really happen?” After taking the time to correlate all the information that had been forgotten about the Preece family, who had lived 100 years ago in a place that has transgressed into a ghost town, it feels good to bring them and the town to life, just by taking pen to paper.

62,000 Australians gave their lives during the First World War and will be remembered on the Hall of Memory at the Australian War Memorial. The names will be displayed from sunset to sunrise every night, and can be seen from the Memorial's grounds in Canberra. Each name will be visible for 30 seconds. Allan Preece has his name located at panel 6 in the Commemorative Area at the Australian War Memorial, but we are especially proud of them all.

Fifty years later there was support to remember the past. The government introduced a medallion to revive the memory of those who had lost their lives in service of their country. In 1967, to commemorate the 50th anniversary of the Gallipoli landing, the Gallipoli Medallion was issued to everyone who served at Gallipoli, or their families. Allan had died at Gallipoli, so his medallion was offered to his next of kin. Since George died the year before, John was the remaining next of kin and would have received all three medallions. Sadly, John also died the following year and the medallions have since been lost.

John Preece also re-inlisted during WWII, serving in two wars and outliving the rest of his family. All three of the Preece boys were entitled to three war medals each, the 1914-15 Star, the British War Medal and the Victory Medal.
John Preece was also entitled to the WWII medals, the Australian Service Medal 39-45, the Australian Efficiency Medal and Australian war medal 39-45, six medals from two wars in all.

What happened to the medallions, I don’t know, but with the resergent interest in the Gallipoli landing because of its 100th anniversary, renuide interests have developed and for the first time, I have discovered Allan’s story and his families role in serving our country.

Alec jr is my Great grand father on my mothers side, so I am not a direct descendant of Allan, John or George, but I am proud of them none-the-less.

© 2016 ISBN: 978-0-9944682-2-2