BREEDING, Ronald Roy
Service Numbers: | SX24006, S11922 |
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Enlisted: | 28 July 1942, Port Moresby |
Last Rank: | Warrant Officer Class 2 |
Last Unit: | 13 Field Regiment AMF |
Born: | Peterborough, South Australia , 10 July 1920 |
Home Town: | Prospect (SA), Prospect, South Australia |
Schooling: | Adelaide High School, South Australia |
Occupation: | Monumental Mason |
Died: | Natural Causes, Hope Valley, South Australia, 5 July 2020, aged 99 years |
Cemetery: | Not yet discovered |
Memorials: |
World War 2 Service
28 Jul 1942: | Involvement Warrant Officer Class 2, SX24006 | |
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28 Jul 1942: | Involvement Warrant Officer Class 2, S11922 | |
28 Jul 1942: | Enlisted Warrant Officer Class 2, SX24006, 13 Field Regiment AMF, Transferred to AIF in Port Morseby, Papua. | |
28 Jul 1942: | Enlisted Australian Military Forces (WW2) , Warrant Officer Class 2, SX24006, 13 Field Regiment AMF | |
28 Jul 1942: | Enlisted Port Moresby | |
21 Sep 1945: | Discharged Australian Military Forces (WW2) , Warrant Officer Class 2, SX24006, 13 Field Regiment AMF | |
21 Sep 1945: | Discharged | |
21 Sep 1945: | Discharged Warrant Officer Class 2, SX24006, 13 Field Regiment AMF, Discharged at 4 M.D at Wayville South Australia. |
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Add my storyBiography contributed by Ant McLean
Reminiscences of
SX24006 Warrant Officer Class Two
Ronald Roy Breeding
including his service with 49th Battery
13th Australian Field Regiment A.I.F.
1940 - 1945
I was bought up in Blair Athol and went to the Nailsworth Primary School. In Grade 7 I did well in my Q.C. (Qualifying Certificate).
During this time I sold newspapers at the 'Terminus' for 21⁄2 years (the tram terminus). After this I went to Adelaide High School and was in the top commercial class.
I was the youngest of the '3 musketeers' - with Max Chambers and Alan Glasson. We did everything together, riding our bikes where ever they took us, shooting and camping.
We rode out to Para Hills with a .22 rifle and shot rabbits. Dad had also given me a Harrington & Richards single barrel shot gun which we used to shoot parrots, lots of parrots. We would also go out and shoot pigeons in those days - there were no laws.
We even went to the gun club down the bottom of the hill (on Main North Rd. just north of the Regency Road intersection) where the RSL is now.
They had 3 traps for pigeon shooting - and you didn't know which trap held the pigeon. It was the forerunner of clay pigeon shooting.
Sometimes Alan and I had also teamed up with Len Richards, a neighbour, who was older than us and we would go up to the plains where Northfield now is.
We would take a length of bird netting strung between 2 bamboo poles which Alan and I would open up and hold on one side of a big boxthorn bush. Len would then go around the other side and belt the bush to scare out all the birds which would fly out and get caught in the net. Mainly we caught sparrows and
starlings which we would sell to the gun club.
I remember one Easter when Alan, Max and I went to the Gorge on a camping trip. We went up on the Friday and set up on the bottom of the Gorge just below Castambul. That night we had big rains and on the Saturday morning it was still raining so we decided to get out.
That day the river Torrens really came down in flood - quite a few people were camped on the other side of the river and were trapped there. A police sergeant did a very brave thing by getting a rope, swimming to the other side and rescuing them.
That first year at Adelaide High was not a good one. I slipped down through the grades a bit.
At the end of the year I went up to the bush at Koonamore Station, out of Yunta, which my uncle managed. I had a great time up there.
Isn't it strange? I went up there and shot kangaroos. I couldn't shoot one now. At the time they would get £1 ($2) for a skin and dad was only getting about £3 a week . Those skins were valuable.
The foxes were real bad up there and we would shoot an emu, tie it on behind a vehicle and drag it all over the station. My uncle would leave poison baits in the tracks. The foxes would smell the dead emu and follow the smell and find the baits.
Dad didn't have a high paid job. He was a cleaner - fireman for the South Australian Railways and money wasn't plentiful. Because I hadn't done so well in high school I had done my chances.
At the end of the holidays I got a message up the station to come home and start work. I howled - I was only 14 and I didn't want to leave school.
I came home and went straight to work at Neill and Shelton who were monumental masons.
I started an apprenticeship that was to qualify me as a stone mason but I also learnt many other trades as well.
During the next few years Alan, Max and I knocked around and played football for Broadview.
Some extra money may have been an attraction, but the three of us were also keen on shooting and camping so we decided to join the Army.
We didn't know anything about it so we went into Adelaide to join the CMF.
The Sergeant there said you boys come from out Prospect way you would be better off going into the Artillery there.
We didn't know foot slogging from Artillery so we just went out to Prospect and joined up. It was about 1938 and I was 18.
We joined 13th Field Brigade and I remember that Major T.C. Eastick was in charge of the Battery at Prospect.
Mechanisation of the guns was just beginning to be achieved and the horse days were gone.
I will never forget my first camp at Woodside, all the necessary needles in the afternoon and I was unfortunate enough to be chosen for gun guard that first night.
The area that housed the guns was known as the 'Gun Park' and this was the first time it had been occupied.
The wet grass was like a crop and it was not long before I was wet up to the waist. There are not many places in South Australia that are colder than Woodside in the winter months.
Many times after weekend leave and coming back to camp on Colin's old 'Slopy' BSA my hands would be that cold that it would take a considerable time to warm them up enough to be able to sleep.
After the outbreak of war in September 1939 we were called up to do 30 day camps. We were in it right from the start and as the organization got better they became 3 month camps.
Although I was the youngest of the three I was the more serious.
Consequently I became a sergeant well before they even thought about things like that. Eventually we all became sergeants. I remember that Max came up to me one day and thanked me for pushing him into going for promotion.
As a sergeant I met most of the incoming drafts and we trained them for three months. We would finish one lot and the next lot came in.
We put them through the basic instruction, foot drill, gas drill and gun drill until it became like a permanent occupation.
The 13th Field Brigade became the nucleus of all the A.I.F. Artillery Units that went over to the Middle East, the 2/3rd, 2/7th, and 2/14th.
I had a guilty feeling at times for not joining the A.I.F. but I was a sergeant and enjoyed what I did.
I had mixed feelings. I had a pride in my country but did not think much of war. I was prepared to go away to defend Australia but wasn't keen to go over the other side of the world to fight someone else's war.
Alan made the decision to enlist in the 2/14th. A decision he perhaps regretted as they only finished up in Darwin whereas our Regiment made it to New Guinea.
When the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbour the whole thing became a different ‘ball game’. Most of the troops we had trained had gone off with the A.I.F. units.
We got a lot of untrained men and we were not trained ourselves in unarmed combat or had any jungle training.
Some of the poor buggers had not even fired a rifle, never done gun drill and not really done anything - no training from when they came in to when we went in December.
We only had WW1 equipment - things were rushed and not well organized. I was a Warrant Officer by then and made TSM
We left Woodside on Christmas Day 1941 and had our Christmas lunch on the Murray Bridge Railway Station.
The journey to Sydney was rather slow and we didn't arrive until the morning of December 28th.
The luxury liner 'Aquitania' was waiting at the wharf and amid some confusion we manage to get aboard and find a place to bed down.
It was certainly an eye opener for most of us - an 82,000 ton skyscraper sitting alongside the wharf - a very large ship.
After a well escorted trip, with a few scares, the armada arrived at Port Moresby on the 3rd January 1942.
Amid much confusion we disembarked via the other smaller warships. Eventually, on terra firma, in front of the Papuan Hotel we were informed, by a group of mainly RAAF with glasses of beer in their hands, that
“You'll be sorry”. That being the call to all new arrivals.
Then it was a four mile march to Murray Barracks which at least had galvanized iron huts to sleep in.
We were issued with a blanket and a ground sheet which did not make it that comfortable on the concrete floors.
The panic continued with the preparation of Regimental Headquarters, the unloading of the ships being the main occupations. Inevitably some of the things being unloaded somehow managed to finish up in our possession - and some of the time that happened to be beer.
The guns took 10 days to get unloaded and the ammunition some 10 days later again.
It was fortunate that we didn't have any opposition. We still only had WW1 gear and things were pretty tough and remained so for quite a long period.
None of us had had much training. Honestly it was a stuff up - we were a useless body of men - there was not much discipline etc. - it was shocking - but that's how it went.
When I look back I was really worried about the lack of training, communication and the lack of everything.
RSM Koch left and was replaced by 'Tich' Jordan so I became the BSM with
Ken Hollow as the Battery Capt. and Jack Jutilane the Battery Commander (but he left. Jack was a WW1 man and the going was hard so they transferred him to something that was supposed to be a bit easier.
However he was closer to the fighting and I was never sure how they worked that out.)
Eventually 49 Bty were allotted positions for the guns along the beach front, for a distance of about sixteen miles (26km) with each gun responsible for its own destiny.
Much hard work preparing gun pits, slit trenches, sleeping quarters, cookhouses etc.
Some of our new equipment was scrounged from empty houses as all the civilians had been evacuated and their homes left vacant.
Unfortunately nothing was ever truly completed as someone of a higher rank would find what he thought was a better position. Then the digging and preparing would start all over again.
After the first Japanese air raids digging slit trenches became the number 1 priority. In one position the cookhouse was on one side of a little hill and the 3 Mile Drome was on the other side of the hill. Our OP (observation post) was dug into the top of this hill. I think it even had 4 beds in there.
The Japs were bombing the drome from about 30,000 feet and we were watching them whilst we had lunch. Suddenly a bomb which must have lost a fin, dropped just by the OP and frightened the sh...t out of us. It caused a lot of confusion and some minor injuries, mainly self inflicted while trying to be first in the slit trench.
It was certainly an incentive to move quickly.
It was possibly on this occasion that one of our officers went bomb happy or troppo.
I only heard about it later but apparently he drew his pistol, was waving it around and ordered the men out of the OP. It was obviously hushed up but the officer was sent back to Australia.
Whilst in the beach defence role each gun had an Officer in charge, with a Gun Sergeant, Bombadier Gun Layer, and approximately 20 other ranks. This included a cook and his off-sider, as every gun was self supporting with its own supplies etc. which were delivered by BHQ.
Q. What was the role of the officer?
A. Well - Gun Commander I suppose, I don't know what you would call it.
Q. But didn't the Sergeant take the orders and run the gun?
A. Yes. The Sergeant was still the no.1 but the officer was in charge of the gun.
Q. What did he do?
A. Well he hung around - had a marvelous time really. Especially if he had a good Gun Sergeant and A Troop had good Gun Sergeants. B Troop too - they all had good Gun Sergeants. See that's where B Troop, down at Bootless (Bootless Inlet), had it all over us.
Anyone could walk in on us at anytime but at Bootless they always heard over the wireless what was going on and if anyone was coming.
We supplied B Troop for the whole time they were at Bootless - they had a wonderful time. For some time there was a shortage of junior officers and I was placed in charge of a gun. Fortunately we did not have to use it in self defence.
Early in May 1942 the Regiment was 'Stood To' as a report was received that a large convoy of Japanese ships were heading for Port Moresby.
The convoy consisted of 3 aircraft carriers, 10 cruisers, 15 destroyers, six submarines, 9 other war ships and 12 troop transports with some thousands of troops.
Fortunately they were spotted and the Battle of the Coral Sea put a stop to the Japanese plans.
I often wondered what would have happened to the 'Mice of Moresby' (as we became know in South Australia) had they not been stopped.
What needs to be remembered is that there were only a few thousand inexperienced troops in Moresby at that time.
The Battle of the Coral Sea became the turning point of Japan's move south towards Aussie.
It was great relief for Australia and the men of the 13th Field Regiment.
Laurie Jordan and I were both asked to attend an Officers Training Course whilst we were on the guns at the beach front.
But we both declined. Strangely enough I was never that confident - I think my limited schooling held me back a bit at times.
I got on well with Ken Hollow at this time. He was a sober one, he didn't drink, but he had a great brain and good sense of humour. Not long before he died he said to me
"You wouldn't know it but you went very close to getting a commission in the field through Sampson."
I never pursued it as to why or for what but there was a shortage of officers - there were quite a number of the young officers that didn't make it for one reason or another.
As BSM I often had to take over a gun. At one time the Battery Capt. was away and Lt. Knox took over and I went to his gun.
Well they had a gun inspection and everything was wrong with the gun I had just taken over - did I cop it.
I have often thought, to this day, if I should have protested rather than just shutting up and letting it go. Knox was there the whole time I was copping it and said nothing. I didn't have much of an opinion of him after that.
Even later, he never came to me and said he was sorry that I had borne the brunt of it. But that's how it was on the guns. You would get your gun all set up with everything working and some bugger would come up and say,
"No! That's no good" and change everything.
But I did enjoy myself at times. I went down to Bootless and went out fishing on one of the native lakatois.
I also did a bit of fishing in front of our guns. I would go out in shorts and shirt with a couple of hand grenades - sometimes nearly up top the neck - throw a grenade out in front of me and put the fish that floated to the top in my shirt.
I suppose it was taking a bit of a chance - but oh well!
Late in July 1943 I was the relieving R.S.M. at Murray Barracks when who should appear but my old mate, Alan Glasson. He had contacted acne while with the 2/14th and been sent home. I don't know how he managed it but he got himself sent to Moresby as a reinforcement.
I set about getting him transferred to our Regiment when he volunteered to join the 2/6th Infantry Battalion on the Kokoda Trail. A few days later, on 3rd August, he was killed. It was a very sad time for me.
Life continued in a rather monotonous way, except for the many air attacks, up until May 1943.
About midnight one night I was called up to the BCs tent to see Ken Hollow and Capt. d'Archy who said to me,
"Sar Major - we have just got an intelligence message that the Japs are going to drop paratroopers. I want you to alert the troops."
and went on with a great list of things I had to do. He went on for quite a while - he had it all worked out.
I went out to get things started when Ken called me back. I'm not sure what he said but after me getting all excited he told me that I was going home the next day on leave.
He gave me a list of about 100 of us that I had to get up and make sure they would be ready and organized to leave the next day. It was a great surprise and shows that the army can move when it becomes necessary.
Probably I was a little excited, but I do not remember that trip home, except that I had to telegraph Eileen as soon as possible, as she had the responsibility of arranging our wedding.
We arrived home on Sunday 23rd May 1943 and were married the next Wednesday in St Cuthbert's on Prospect Rd.
The reception was held in Enfield Institute on Main North Rd. - another building that has since been demolished. It was quite a rush for Eileen to get everything arranged and I had to get a 'Best Man' and 'Groomsman'.
After the reception we were picked up in a limousine that was fitted with a gas producer (to overcome the petrol shortage) and taken on the long trip to Port Noarlunga.
When we arrived down there after midnight we could not find the house that Eileen had booked. Phone calls to the owner at that hour were not appreciated but we finally found a place to bed down.
Then commenced a week of house- keeping which was rather hilarious. We had a large piece of corned beef which we cooked until it fell to pieces and a ribbon cake that still had a piece left at the end of the week. But we managed to appease our appetites. It was a wonderful time with the worst part remembering how short a week was.
It ended much too quickly. After I returned to the Army and Eileen was back at the British Tube Mills she was asked questions about the river down at Port Noarlunga to which she replied, "What River?"
When we got back to Moresby from leave then, of course, the whole Regiment came back to Australia.
There was a rush to get back. My group went to Helidon, in Queensland, to set up a new camp while the rest went on their leave.
Things were disorganized for many months and we didn't really do much. With not much to do we got on the grog a bit. In fact one night Clive Lecher, Arthur Bockman and I got picked up on a night out for being AWOL (absent without leave). Capt. d'Archy was in charge and gave us the option of a court martial or him hearing the charge. It didn't take us long to decide on him hearing it. I think it cost us about £12 each ($24).
At this time things got rather rough - the discipline was a bit slack for a while - too many men and not enough to do.
Despite this we did have some fun. We played a lot of Football (Aussie Rules) and had a good regimental team.
We used to play one particular team from WA - I can't remember if it was a regimental team, Infantry or what - but every time we played them it was on - a fair dinkum game - and we had some good players too.
Harold Hawke big tall bloke from Curramulka who played for North Adelaide and the State Team. He was a marvelous player. (H.J.'Dribbler' Hawke won the Magarey Medal in 1937.) Max Chambers was always into it and wasn't happy until he was bleeding somewhere.
H.J. ‘Dribbler’ Hawke I remember we had a Major J.A.R.K. Strong (nicknamed Jark). He organized a tour of Queensland towns, with Army men and vehicles, selling War Bonds.
He had a bit of a stutter but was a bright man with a photographic memory. He was killed after the war in a high speed car accident - which was how he would get killed too. When we first got the Owen Gun he said to me, "Sar Major, I want you to open the box and get out the manual and give it to me.
Then I'll call you to get all the Sergeants in and we'll have a look at this Owen Gun."
Anyhow he took the manual away and later got me to call in the Sergeants and literally quoted the manual off by heart - he was a bottler.
He was a wonderful bloke too - he was one that would be in on a bit of fun. He was a good bloke.
The next couple of years were far from ideal, a period when all I was wishing for was the termination of hostilities.
When I was in New Guinea I had a lot of trouble with my feet. I even used to ride my motor bike in bare feet and hang my boots on the handle bars because they hurt so much in the heat with boots on.
When we were in Toowoomba they put me in hospital. First they decided they would make a plate that pulled the big toe away from the others.
Well you just can't do that, it doesn't work. I would put it on and it was torture. I couldn't leave it on for 5 minutes much less walk on it.
A Maj. Sweetapple decided he would operate on my left foot, at the same time downgrading me to a B2 classification which meant I would have to leave the Regiment.
The operation didn't make it any better - I should never have had it done because that foot is still the same. I spent a lot of time in hospital and that was a traumatic experience because I was with the poor buggars that had been shot and all that - they really suffered.
When I got out of hospital the unit had moved to Rocky Creek on the Atherton Tablelands.
I went up there and received a lot of 'flack' when I had to leave due to my downgraded medical classification. I played a game of football the day before I left and they wondered how I could play football but not stay with the unit. But that was all out of my control.
.
Once I left the Regiment I had a miserable time marching into the unknown - hoping for a discharge. I was sent to Camp Cable at Southport, a camp where WOs and Sergeants went to be transferred to other units.
Being an Artillery Warrant Officer, with a B class medical, made it difficult to find another position.
I wasn't in a good frame of mind and with nothing to do all we did was go to the baths at Southport
After discharge I had a month off and Eileen and I went up to Koonamore Station. When we came back I resumed work at Neill and Shelton and it wasn't that long before I was made foreman.
Some months later the 13th Field blokes came back and were stationed at Wayville. I went and saw them and it was a sad moment as I would have liked to have seen it through with them rather than end up the way I did.