Virtual
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Australia

Allan (Lefty) and his twin Cecil Francis (Ginger) were born on the 6th May 1912 at Curramulka, a farming area on the Yorke Peninsula. Their father, Richard Francis Poole was Mayor of Port Lincoln for over a decade. The boys had one older brother, Leslie and a younger, William Albert Charles (Bill) plus five sisters including Clissie, Bub, Dawn, Ida Irene and Joyce.
The twins grew up in the Port Lincoln district, on their parents’ property called ‘Dawnville’ at Kirton Point, attending the local school. Allan was a creditable attacking football player, vaunted for his sporting ability, like that of his father, Dick. Allan was also a talented cross-country runner with the Peds from ’33 where races were run during half time of football on the Capital Town Oval. He was a strategic runner with a powerful late surge in the ’33 Mile handicap, winning by two yards. He also won the 100-yard sprint, proving his adaptability. As the season progressed, Allan amassed two firsts and one second position to his credit, prior to going to the Lock district, taking with him the good will, and esteem of his comrades. At that stage of the season in July, Allan was a clear winner in trophy points on 18 with Sims in second place on 12.
In May ’33 the family celebrated the 21st birthdays of Allan and Cecil at their home which was patriotically decorated with yellow chrysanthemums and green and gold streamers. Games, dancing and competitions were conducted. Their father presented the boys with two miniature old keys as well as two inscribed larger keys.
When Allan’s close friend, Henry Sellen married Anna Adler in November ’35, he chose Allan as his best man. In July the following year, Allan married 21-year-old Doris Woodrup from Pygery near Wudinna on the 7th July at the Wudinna Methodist Church. Following the ceremony, a dance was held in the Pygery Hall where best wishes were extended to the young couple for their future happiness and prosperity.
With WWII intervening, for the Poole family, 22-year-old Bill was the first to enlist in October ’39 becoming SX570. He eventually rose to be a Captain. Locals, Henry Sellen, Bill Owen and Allan were to enlist within days of each other in June ‘40 with Henry being allocated to the 2/43rd as SX7295. Allan was allocated the number SX7141. By October, Allan, Corporal Douglas Smith SX7191 and Private Bill Owen SX7628, all from the 2/48th Battalion, were farewelled with a social in the Mayor’s Parlour, organised by the Fighting Forces Farewell Committee. The young men were toasted before being presented with a parcel from the Comforts Fund.
Later, Allan’s other brothers were also involved in the war effort. Leslie Poole became a member of the RAAF Ground staff. Cecil (Ginger) was finally accepted for service in November ’42 after seven attempts to enlist. He eventually became a member of the 2/48th Battalion.
Allan did his early training at Wayville in what is now the Adelaide Showgrounds, before moving to Woodside in the Adelaide Hills. His battalion was soon embarked for the Middle East. In an exceptional act to keep families and friends informed the West Coast Recorder regularly published letters written home to family. Allan was a regular writer. Through his eyes what was told, and not told in detail, became a tribute to his survival. His voyage to the Middle East proved to be quite eventful with Private Frank Coffey SX6482 of the 2/12th writing on his trip to Palestine that “We are still at sea and have had a good trip to date. Max Richardson, Doug Smith, Allan Poole, one of the Siviour boys, Sam Seaman and other Lincoln lads are on this ship. Allan Poole was nearly left ashore at one port by the doctors, but much to our relief they finally decided to let him continue the trip with us.” He later described finally arriving in Palestine and how good it was to get ashore. “There are a good many Arabs around here and they are a dirty looking lot. We get plenty of oranges here. They are equal to if not better than Australian oranges. At Christmas time we received hampers from the Comforts Fund and the officers waited on the men for Christmas dinner.”
In January ’41 Milton Buddle SX491 in the General Details Depot wrote to Allan’s parents to thank them for remembering him at Christmas time. He shared that he had bought a few souvenirs from Tobruk and that “Musso. has left plenty of stores for the troops so it is not such a bad war after all.” The following month Pte. Allan (Lefty) Poole, wrote from Palestine, “When I was handed your three airmail letters yesterday, my tent mates all wanted me to read them out to cheer them up a bit. I read out two but wouldn't read the third. They got me down and took it away and read it out aloud. I couldn't say anything because we did the same to one of them last week. It all makes up a laugh. Letters are better than pay days to us. I have met a good many Port Lincoln boys lately and was talking to Bill Owen yesterday. I am fit as a fiddle now and played football for our battalion. You would laugh if you saw the wogs (Arabs) here. Their dress is very funny. You can hardly see them for clothes, and you cannot see the womenfolk at all. Even their faces are covered up. I did not think people could be so dirty. They only wash twice a year, they say—and it looks like it. They reckon water should only be used for drinking purposes.” (25-year-old Bill Owen was to die of wounds he received just three months later.)
By the end of February, Allan wrote that he was hoping to be transferred to brother Bill Poole’s Unit in Egypt. While typically, little was said of the war, interesting snippets of life away from the front were detailed: “I went to the pictures last night and there was an Australian newsreel showing the floods at Jamestown. All the shows here, including pictures, cost 30 mils (9d.) The money here is different from ours and takes working out at times. The Jews and Arabs soon work it out and would take us down for our socks if we were not careful. Summer is drawing near and it looks as though it will be very hot. I will probably get burned black like the Arabs before much longer.” Allan did share exciting news the next month: "Promoted to Lieutenant today, keeping well."
Another local who also kept in touch with the Poole family was Private Gordon Cotton, SX1821 in the 2/10th who wrote thanking the Poole family for his Christmas card and shared memories of his time in England and the hospitality of the Scottish people. He added “On arrival in Egypt, we met Bill Poole and had a reunion celebration with Bob Davies and Arthur Burton in Bill's room, where we toasted the health of those at home. Bill is a fine chap. He is keeping remarkably well and now looks so much like you that every time we see him coming we laugh and say, " Here comes Dick Poole." (Within a month of writing the letter, Bill was killed in action in Libya on May 3rd ’41.)
As the war intensified, the opportunity to write home was challenging but Allan was able to post a letter home at the start of April ’41 from ‘somewhere in North Africa’, saying “Lately, I have not had time to write. I have been so busy that I have nearly forgotten that I ever lived in Aussie. I do not know how long I will be here. On our way over from Palestine, we passed close by thousands of Italian prisoners in one town. They did not look too pleased with themselves. At one place I met Mick Buxton (SX493 2/10th) and several other Port Lincoln boys. We had a great yarn telling each other of our experiences. Mick is in the best of health. Some of the places, on our way here, looked as though an earthquake had hit them. Thousands of enemy planes, trucks and other vehicles are lying upside down or in pieces on the roadside. You could not imagine it unless you saw it. They must have given the enemy beans while it lasted. Where I am now, you can see nothing except waste land. The only living things in the place are flies and mosquitos. It beats me what they want to fight over country like this for. I try to smoke the mosquitos out of my dug-out, but I think they must wear gas masks. They attack with fixed bayonets in hundreds. This place is close to the sea and we have a swim every day (if we have time). The weather has been warm, and swimming is ideal. There are no women within a few hundred miles so we bathe in the nude. There is a nice beach to dry on. Water is very scarce and sea water is all we have to wash in, but I am in the best of health and getting three good meals a day, so I cannot growl. The Comforts Fund are doing a wonderful job for us. We are continually receiving things from them. Today is Thursday. One doesn't go by the day here. The question generally is, "What week is it?" I don't think it ever rains here. The dust is starting to blow again. It comes up with the slightest breeze.”
Bill Poole, then a Lieutenant, also wrote as regularly as possible but in May commented that “I have not been able to see Allen yet but hope to when we get back to the mainland.” He was on the Isle of Crete at the time. “I was very sorry to find that I had missed Allen again. When I arrived here, he had been shifted to Egypt. It is a rotten business, this war, but we can take it, and believe me the Aussies can give it back too. It will take more than Hitler and all his men to frighten us.”
That same month Allan also wrote home from Libya. “I am still in the land of the living but have been too busy to write lately. This is not the brightest of spots, but one cannot grumble. One thing about this place is that you can save money here. There are no shops for miles and miles away, or if there are I have not heard of them. The dust was so bad the other day, that when I went for a walk about a hundred yards away, I got lost — in broad daylight too! I could not see more than a few feet in front of me. You could not imagine what it is like. When I get away from this country I am going to get into a hot bath and lie and soak there. I read that the railway men were on strike. I reckon that they ought to bundle the whole darn lot up and send them over here for a few months, and then see if they want to strike for more money. I guarantee they would be glad to go back and just work for their tucker, let alone money. I never knew when I was well off before, but by heavens I do now. You are probably wondering what I was doing on my birthday. I was lying in a dug-out spitting out dust. It was one of the worst days we have had. I will never forget it. At breakfast time, the boys all sang "Happy birthday to you," and we all had a good laugh. A while ago, one chap on his birthday, amongst his parcels from home, received a roll of toilet paper and a packet of Minties, and did we laugh! (Written on May 16): —I am still in Libya, where the Dig scrap is on. The big guns are barking again. I suppose the darn things will keep us awake half the night again. It is not so bad when they go off near you, but when they go off a distance away, and you hear something howl overhead, it makes you keep near your trenches. We have our good times though. Yesterday, I went down for a swim. There is a beautiful surf here and a nice strip of beach. It was lovely to get some of this dust off.”
By June Allan (Lefty) was in Tobruk in the heat of battle. He wrote home describing the conditions: “Our chaps brought down three enemy planes today. The enemy always goes back a lot shorter in numbers than when he comes over. One plane they brought down went headfirst into two feet of water. It bounced into the air and turned about four circles before it landed again. A chap has to be alert all the time the planes are about, as you never know when they are going to machine gun you. I was nearly machine gunned one day and I have been very watchful ever since. It was the first time my mate and I had experienced it and it gave us a big fright. The bullets just scattered on the ground alongside of us. We were so quick getting under cover that we must have been like lightning to watch. The planes do not frighten us nearly as much now and we have often laughed about it since. My mate was so scared he could hardly walk afterwards, and I was no hero either. I would like to tell you all the things I have seen happen here, but the information would be valuable if it got into enemy hands. My word, I could do with a nice meal of fish. I am going to have a month's quiet rest at Coffin's Bay when I get home.”
The following month, July the 2/48th was in the thick of constant battle but Allan’s sense of humour attempted to alleviate any concerns his family might have for his safety. His letter that month described the daily conditions. “With the number of air raids we have had it is a wonder there is anything left of this place, but the enemy are definitely very bad shots. They get a good dose of lead put into them when they come over and we seem to have them rattled. They hardly ever get off Scot free. My rifle does a lot of overtime too. I do not know whether I have ever hit one, but believe me I do my best. It was rather funny tonight—Just before tea we were all standing around and we heard a whine and a howl, then a bang. You can imagine how we all took off for our dugouts. It was a few more shells from the enemy's big guns, but no damage was done. It puts a nasty taste in your mouth when you hear them whine overhead, but I am getting used to them now. The lads were telling me that the other night a couple of our chaps were sleeping on top of the ground, when an enemy shell came over and skimmed the blankets off them. I was watching a truck going down the road yesterday morning and the enemy were having a shot at him. One shell landed right in front of him. I thought they had got him for a few minutes, until the dust cleared. It was so close that the truck stopped dead and the driver had to swing around to get past the shell hole. Paper and envelopes are like diamonds here. Yesterday I was able to borrow two envelopes from a chap but had to give him a stamp for them. If I get stuck for paper, I will have to write on the backs of your letters. I have been making a few souvenirs in my spare time. Yesterday, I made some rings from the propeller of an aeroplane that was brought down not very far away.”
Later that month Allan’s pride in his battalion was evident. “The enemy's shells are still coming over now and again, but things have been pretty quiet lately. They are not worrying us, as they are landing several hundred yards away. A good many are landing in one spot there. I think he must be trying to dig a well for us. I guarantee he is getting his sleep disturbed pretty often with our shells caning back to him all the time. Our battalion is doing great work here. I suppose you have heard it over the wireless. Our battalion is the one that has captured so many prisoners. Tobruk has a very attractive harbor. It used to be a holiday resort once, but does not look like it now, with all the bombs dropped on it. I have been here for over four months. When I went down for a swim yesterday I met Norm Reid and we had a great yarn. While I was in the water, we had an air raid, so I had to scramble out very quickly, but no damage was done, so we continued our swim. Yesterday, it blew like anything. The dust is bad when there is only a light breeze, but when it blows, as it does very often, it is awful. I guarantee I swallow more dust than food.”
There were still occasions to celebrate. In a further letter, Allan described the on-going dust and heat. “The weather here is still hot and the dust seems to be getting worse instead of better. I am still a few miles out of Tobruk and expect to be here for some time yet. Except for an occasional air raid and getting a few shells thrown at us now and again, it has been fairly quiet here lately. With the air raids and enemy artillery having a pop at us, things have been fairly lively during the past few days. They kept me awake till the early hours of this morning and I seemed to have just got to sleep when someone came along and said" "Get up, it's five o'clock." The planes get a hot reception when they come along. The guns have been banging away all around here. We saw a fine sight this morning. When the enemy was shelling us, a plane was sent over to see where his shells were landing. Our guns opened up and fairly "mopped" him up. He did a wobble and nosedived straight into the ground, immediately going up in flames. He certainly got what he was looking for and of course we all gave a cheer when he hit the ground. It was just as well he did, because if he had got back, he would have told their artillery just where we were, and they might have given us a lot of trouble for a while. Our boys are continuing to do a great job here. I go up and listen to the news practically every night (when I am free). The Russians are putting up a good show. Tea has arrived and if I do not hurry I will look like going without. We had sausages and rice; it was the best meal I have had for some time.”
The bond between those from around Port Lincoln remained a strong support, as did the arrival of precious letters from home. Allan described this late in July. “Well, I am in a happy mood tonight, as I have just received another letter from you. I have been getting my fair share of letters lately and my word they are a God-send. You would not believe how we look forward to receiving them. "Lofty" Whait and "Shorty" Barwick will be joining us any day now. I have been up seeing Harry Sellen each night, after finding him here, but he went into hospital this morning with an ulcerated stomach. Ripper (Tom) King and Alby Stubberfield are here now. Ripper was in Palestine for a while with a wounded leg, but he is all right now. He says that Gordon Poole (cousin) is in Palestine with Bill. The dust has been something awful today. This morning Alby and I went out in a lorry looking for some timber; so we went on down to the beach and had a swim. It was lovely in the water, but it was not much benefit to us, as we were soon as dirty as blackfellows again.”
Another local in the 2/48th Battalion, Bob Harvey wrote home of the conditions. “According to the news, we are breaking all sorts of records sitting in this hole. I heard that we recently had our thousandth air raid. I would prefer not to be a record breaker. Here are some of the records that they did not mention— The most dirt I have ever swallowed; the most flies I have ever seen; the biggest fleas in Libya; the world's worst dust storms; the least beer I have ever had. Today is a splendid example of our weather—hot with plenty of dust; but the nights are lovely and cool. I received a letter from "Lefty" Poole yesterday. He is keeping well. I was going to try and see him, but I think we will be going back into the front lines again before I have time.”
The effects of receiving both mail and parcels from the Comforts Fund was immeasurable for those serving, as was catching up with locals. Late August Allan mentioned receiving “a large consignment from the Comforts Fund the other day. I was lucky enough to get a jumper and a pair of sox. In the jumper was a note from the person who made it, a Mrs. Heggie from Mount Lofty (I believe), so I wrote and told her that I had received it. This morning I went in to Tobruk for more timber and iron. While I was there the enemy's big gun, "long Tom," we call him, was shelling the harbor. The shells were landing in the water and sending the spray high into the air. It was good to watch. Whenever I am down there, I go and see Bill if I get the chance, but I could not do so this time as he was out on the other road leading from Tobruk. I am a pleased man this week, as I have received a bundle of letters from home. It is a great pick-me up to get them. It is also good to meet some of the other boys from Lincoln and have a chat about the hometown.”
The Battalion was still in the thick of action when Allan next wrote home in September. “We had a big air raid here the other day. About 100 enemy planes took part and they seemed to come from all directions. I think they dropped bombs everywhere except on my dug-out, and of course they did a bit of machine gunning with it. They are very poor shots though and did very little damage. They came over to bomb our lines (as they thought) and dropped some on their own. Were our boys pleased to see their bombs dropping on their own troops? The weather has changed considerably lately and has turned quite cool. It actually rained here the other night, which was a miracle for this place, so I do not think it will be long before the winter is here. We are starting to wear our pullovers in the mornings and evenings, as it gets very cold after sundown. It will seem funny having to wear long trousers again, as it is about six months since I last wore anything but shorts. I am keeping in the best of health except for the trouble with my eyes, caused by the glare and dust. I have been paying a number of visits to the town of Tobruk lately for timber and iron for our dug-outs. We have been getting it off the buildings that have been bombed, and I have had a look in just about every building to see what is lying about. The enemy must have just dropped everything and ran when they evacuated the place. I would not mind a quarter of the stuff lying about here. I spent another night down with Bill recently. It is good to see him again.”
The conditions in Tobruk were of constant bombardment but in his September letter, Allan tried to make light of this. “I intended to write again before this, but I had to go up to the front lines for a few days. The boys there have all their spare time cut out looking after the enemy on the other side of the wire entanglements. A chap has to keep his head down there, as bullets are continually whizzing overhead. it is remarkable the small number of us that get hit. The morale of our boys in the front lines is excellent. Yesterday the enemy were landing shells everywhere. In the dug-out where I was, one chap was playing a mouth-organ and we were all singing and not taking any notice of the shells. They were betting amongst themselves as to where the next shell would land, and when it exploded, one of us would hop up and see how close it came. We did not have to go up and look when one of them landed, because it blew the side of the trench in. It was just after midnight last night when I arrived back from there, and I am feeling pretty tired as I have had practically no sleep for three days. I thought I would get a few hours' sleep at least, when I got back here, but had just crawled into bed when an air raid started. The planes kept coming over in ones and twos all night, dropping their bombs near the harbor. With the noise of the bomb explosions and our big guns blazing away at them, about an hour's sleep before breakfast was all I had. When the hundred planes came over just a little while ago, I believe we brought down thirty-three of them. They certainly get a hot reception when they come this way. Just at the moment, our artillery is putting up a heavy barrage. I have not been in to see Bill again yet but will do so as soon as I can. I do not know how he is getting on with all the bombs landing there. My eyes are becoming blurred, so I will have to stop writing for a while. This morning when I went up for breakfast, I was handed three more letters, which I was very pleased to receive. You can be sure breakfast had to wait till I had finished reading them. If the folks in Aussie only knew how we appreciate getting write letters more occasionally, often Still they I would growl, as I have received cannot a good many. I had my first wash and shave this morning for three days. You can imagine what I looked like in this dusty hole. I wish I could get some of that spare water running out of the tanks at home.”
Allan’s brother, Bill was very sparse with less welcome news in October. “Allan (brother) has at last been transferred to my unit and will be coming over as soon as he comes out of hospital. He has been ill with tonsilitis but is nearly better again now.” However, the loyalty to other locals killed in action was particularly evident. “I have been down to the cemetery and seen Bill Owen's and Stan Scott's graves. We are all going down together later on to cement them up and make a good job of them. We have the crosses neatly finished now and they look very well.” Bill Owen had been farewelled with Allan after both enlisted together.
The dust, poor conditions and food resulted in Allan having an enforced rest. “I have been here for five days in hospital with tonsillitis and should be out again in two or three days. I hope so anyway, as it is rather trying lying here all day with nothing to do. My eyes have been all right since I have been here. It is only the dust that makes them bad.” For some time Allan had been trying to transfer to Bill’s unit and this was finally achieved in October ’41.
Not only were conditions made challenging by the enemy, but also by the terrain. This re-telling was often mixed with good news as in December ’41. "The other day Bill (Lieut. Bill Poole) was going down in the car to inspect some canteens and asked me if I would like to go with him and have a look around. Of course, I jumped at the chance. We were on the way home about 6.30 p.m. and it was very dark. There was only the driver in the front of the car and Bill and I were sitting in the back. A motor bike was coming towards us and the driver dimmed his lights. He had no sooner done so, when a big Arab truck loomed up in front of us. It was standing on the side of the road without any tail light. It was too late to try and do anything and as the roads are very narrow, we just had to go straight into it. Well, I woke up a couple of hours later and found myself lying on a stretcher in hospital with a terrible headache. I had received a nasty bump on the head and the skin off my legs and arms. Bill had a bad knock on the knee and the driver escaped with a few cuts on the head and a knock on the ankle. We were all shaken up a bit. They wanted to keep us in hospital, but we got out soon after the doctor had examined us. When we went back to get our injuries bandaged next morning, Bill's leg had swollen up pretty badly, so they kept him there for a while. I saw the car next day and it looked wreck, but they reckon they can fix it up all right. I am in charge of a canteen right near the hospital and have a corporal and 12 Jewish boys working with me. There was great excitement the other day when Bill and I received three big parcels each for Christmas. One of them came from a Miss C. C. Heggie, Bura Brae, Eden Valley, S.A. While I was in Tobruk, I received a Comforts Fund guernsey from her and wrote and thanked her for it, and now, to my surprise, she has sent me this one. Her kindness is very much appreciated.”
Little news filtered back to Allan’s parents, who received regular notes from other locals including Keith Slater, SX12705, who tried to get in touch with Bill and Lefty (Poole) but was ‘unable to get a ride down that way’. It was not until April ’42 that the entire Poole family managed to meet up in Adelaide, the first time since the war began. Soon after the sons scattered again. Captain Bill to Darwin, Sergeant Allan in Adelaide and A.C.I. Les in Melbourne with the RAAF Ground staff). Cecil was working in munitions. Their five sisters were also there.
Sergeant Allan Poole was finally discharged in December ’44. The following year he travelled to Adelaide from his home in Wudinna to attend the Anzac Day Celebrations with others from his area who had served. Post war, Alan (Lefty) was a willing volunteer as a tradesman in such areas as installing a new cricket pitch at Wallaroo. He had a short stint in the Daws Road hospital in March ’51.
He and Doris enjoyed their four children, Keith, Darryl, Shirley and Terry and later, time with their grandchildren. Aged 66, Allan died on the 27th October 1978 and is buried in the Wudinna Cemetery.
Researched and written by Kaye Lee, daughter of Bryan Holmes SX8133, 2/48th Battalion.