Virtual
War Memorial
Australia

Richard Wesley "Dick" Allen, DCM

Early Life

Richard Wesley Allen, known as "Dick," was born on 16 December 1922 at Brooklyn Park in South Australia. He was the son of Thomas Wesley Allen and Gertrude Doris Allen (née Tregeagle).

Raised during the difficult years of the Great Depression, Richard grew up in Adelaide's northern suburbs and worked as a painter before the outbreak of the Second World War.

Military Service

Richard enlisted in the Australian Army on 7 April 1942 at Adelaide, aged 19. He was posted to the 2/10th Australian Infantry Battalion, part of the 18th Brigade, which saw active service in Papua New Guinea.

New Guinea Campaign

In late 1942, Richard deployed to Papua, where Australian forces were engaged in intense fighting against entrenched Japanese troops along the northern coast.

Conditions were extremely harsh:

Dense jungle and swamp terrain
Extreme heat and humidity
Constant threat of disease as well as enemy fire

Illness and Discharge

Following his service in New Guinea, Richard suffered serious illness, including:

Malaria (recurrent)
Hookworm infection
These conditions led to repeated hospitalisation. His health was permanently affected, and he was declared unfit for further active service.

He was discharged on 4 December 1943, after approximately 20 months of service.

Marriage and Later Life

On 12 October 1946, Richard married Jessie Margaret Mauger at Nailsworth, South Australia.

They shared a long life together and lived in various Adelaide suburbs, including Salisbury. Richard was known to family and friends as "Dick."

Death

Richard Wesley Allen died on 9 January 2000, aged 77. He was laid to rest at Enfield Memorial Park, where he is interred with his wife Jessie.

Legacy

Richard Allen's story reflects the experience of many Australian soldiers of the Second World War — courage under fire, followed by the lasting physical toll of service in the tropics.

His award of the Distinguished Conduct Medal stands as a lasting recognition of his bravery and selflessness in combat.

Wife

Jessie Margaret Allen (née Mauger) Birth: 1 June 1924 (Norwood District)
Death: 7 September 2019
Cemetery: Enfield Memorial Park

Biography by Trevor Pyatt

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Sanananda - 21st Janurary 1943

The heat came first.

Even before the shooting started, the air along the Sanananda coast hung thick and wet, pressing down on the men of the 2/10th Battalion as they lay waiting on the edge of the beach. The ground beneath them was soft, half sand, half swamp — a place where boots sank and movement felt slow and heavy.

Ahead, barely visible through scrub and tangled growth, were the Japanese positions.

They were dug in deep — pillboxes hidden among roots and sand ridges, machine guns sited to sweep the open beach. Every approach was covered. Every movement watched.

At 0930 hours, the order came.

Two platoons moved forward.

The first bursts of fire tore into them almost immediately.

Machine guns opened from the flanks, stitching the sand with lines of dust and splinters. Sniper shots cracked from hidden positions. Men dropped, hugging what little cover they could find.

They had taken two pillboxes — but now they were pinned.

On the right, one platoon had pushed too far forward. They were exposed — caught in a shallow stretch of open ground with the enemy holding higher, concealed positions.

It was a killing ground.

Private Richard Wesley Allen was with the left section.

He saw it unfold — the stalled advance, the trapped platoon, the enemy fire building.

There was no order given to him.

He moved anyway.

Carrying his Bren gun, Allen broke from cover and pushed out onto the open beach.

There was no protection there — just sand and scattered debris. The kind of ground men were told not to cross under fire.

But from that position, he could see them — the enemy posts firing into the pinned Australians.

He dropped into position and opened fire.

The Bren gun chattered, cutting across the Japanese position.

One enemy post swung toward him and answered immediately — a light machine gun hammering in reply. Bullets tore into his haversack, ripping his gear apart. Sand sprayed around him.

He did not move.

He kept firing.

From where he lay, Allen had drawn the enemy's attention — and with it, their fire.

But he had also broken their rhythm.

He shifted aim, firing into movement near the forward platoon. Figures darting, trying to bring another machine gun into action.

He caught them in the open.

At least three fell.

The firing didn't stop.

Snipers were still working the beach, picking at any movement.

Allen saw them first — the glint, the shift, the small signs others might miss in the chaos.

He shouted warnings across the line.

Men adjusted, took cover, returned fire.

Lives were saved in those seconds.

Time stretched.

Minutes became something else entirely.

The tide was coming in now — slow at first, then creeping higher across the sand. The water reached toward him, soaking into the ground, swallowing what little cover there was.

Still, he held his position.

Still, he fired.

For over an hour, he remained there — alone in the open, under constant fire.

Behind him, the situation began to change.

The pinned platoons, no longer under the same crushing pressure, dug in. Fire superiority shifted. The Australians began to stabilise their line.

The Japanese positions — once dominant — were now under sustained attack.

Eventually, the tide forced the decision.

Water rising, position disappearing, Allen withdrew.

Not in panic. Not under collapse.

But because the ground itself was no longer there to hold.

By then, it was enough.

The line held.

The advance continued.

The enemy resistance between the companies was broken.

Later, it would be written simply.

That his "tenacity, initiative and utter disregard for personal safety" had prevented heavy casualties.

That his conduct was "of the highest order."

That he was "an inspiration to all who witnessed it."

But on that morning at Sanananda, it was something more immediate.

A single man, in the open, under fire —

choosing to stand and fight

when everything around him said to stay down.

And because of that choice, others lived.

By Trevor Pyatt 7/04/2026