Virtual
War Memorial
Australia

Dean, born at Strathalbyn on the 6th March 1920, was the only son of Charles Hornall and Irene Elizabeth Adams. His sisters included Sheila, Margaret and Wendy. The children all attended the local Strathalbyn School, opened in 1880 where Charles had also attended. They helped celebrate the 50th Anniversary in September ’30.
Darren Paech, in Adelaide to Alamein researched the reason young men gave for enlisting. 20-year-old Dean worked the family farm at Strathalbyn but enlisted in June ’40 because he felt ‘England was ‘home’ and thus believed he had to do his bit once France had fallen.’ Ironically, one of the farm labourers, a returned WWI veteran, warned Dean not to enlist in the infantry because of his own horrific experiences being wounded at Villers-Bretonneux. However, despite promising to avoid the infantry, this was where Dean was allocated – he had no choice but served with distinction. He became SX6837 and was allocated to the 2/48th, one of over 800 who joined this newly formed battalion.
Dean’s early days were spent in the Motor Pavilion of what is now the Royal Adelaide Showgrounds. His ‘bed’ was straw filled hessian on wooden pallets. Training in the Adelaide Hills followed before he had brief pre-embarkation leave. The battalion finally boarded the Stratheden for the Middle East, in November, He finally arrived on the 17th December then marched to a Staging Camp. During those early days, besides regular army duties was the need to quickly adapt to the locals.
Within months, the 2/48th Battalion was involved in intense conflicts where their reputation for being the most highly decorated but decimated battalion was earned. Dean was to become one of the highly respected and famed Rats of Tobruk.
By the 10th May ’41 Dean was one of the Privates on fighting patrol with Corporal ‘Tex’ Weston. This meant carrying three Tommy guns, Bren gun and numerous grenades. Several pairs of socks were worn on bare feet to muffle their movements, their bayonets and helmets were smeared with oil and sprinkled with sand to mask their shine, and the men’s faces were blackened. As they approached Forbes Mound, Lieutenant Kimber challenged the Germans to surrender, but instead was wounded by the immediately fired response. Fortunately, the patrol fled, carrying their wounded Lieutenant.
Dean’s good fortune ran out a few nights later in the area known as no-man’s-land. In Adelaide to Alamein, is a description of orders being given to the soldiers to remove the badge of dead German soldiers and return these to the intelligence sector, thus enabling the identification of the deceased soldier’s unit. In May ’41 Bill Southern SX10909, Private Dean Adams SX6837 and two others were undertaking this role when Bill ‘tripped off a German S-mine as they approached the dead enemy. The S-mine, also known as the ‘Bouncing Betty’, contained a small charge that fired it into the air to a height of approximately 3 feet, where it then detonated, spraying shrapnel around at waist height. Dean was about 10 yards away from the mine when it went off and was hit with shrapnel in the back and was temporarily deafened by the blast. The only thing that saved them all from being killed was the fact that they had been crawling when the mine was detonated and most of the shrapnel from the blast went over their heads. Dean was dragged back into the perimeter under an enemy mortar bombardment. He recovered from his wounds and was returned to duty several weeks later. Private Bill Southern’s hand was also badly injured, and he too was evacuated.’
Throughout his time in the Middle East, Dean praised the “bloody good” British machine gunners who would keep firing no matter what the enemy threw at them and that they were pivotal in helping retain the strategically important Hill 209, despite being under direct enemy fire.
Dean and his battalion spent 28 weeks in Tobruk, during which time 58 of their number were killed and 160 wounded. A poor diet and difficulty in maintaining hygienic conditions contributed to illness and disease. Bathing was non-existent, apart from occasional sea washing. In the less than hygienic, tropical conditions of the Middle East, it was almost inevitable that Dean contracted an upper respiratory tract infection in October ’41, causing him to be hospitalised. Unfortunately, just days after his discharge in November, he was then diagnosed with jaundice, exacerbated by lack of fluids and insufficient rest – both conditions of his war in the desert setting.
Early in ’42, Dean received a series of promotions. In June Dean, then a Corporal, was under attack by a fearsome tank attack that penetrated the forward defences where he was dug in. Two of the tanks ran over Dean’s slit trench. He later described this as the ‘worst day of his life’. Yet he was also in awe of the action of Corporal Spud Hinson in chasing and throwing a grenade on top of one tank’s engine bay, destroying it, then proceeded to capture the crew of another tank.
Four months later on 23rd October ’42 a huge barrage of sound erupted as the 2/48th advanced to capture Trig 29. Dean described this as “the ground shaking like an earthquake – it was unbelievable.” The men advanced in the dark with Paech describing them ‘crouching behind their artillery support which was moving ahead of them at a steady rate of 100 yards every three minutes. Corporal Dean Adams remembers prisoners being sent back through their ranks as they advance forward. Most of the enemy were badly shaken by the heavy shelling. “We couldn’t shoot the poor bastards,” he recalled but valuable men had to be assigned to escort them to the rear.’
Three days later, with Rommel determined to recapture Trig 29, Dean was still facing sporadic shelling. That and the intense shelling prevented the possibility of sleeping in their slit trenches. Each day was marked by tension, constant enemy firing, heat and dust, lack of sleep and hygiene. By the 30th of that month, Dean was fortunate to escape with his life when a German fired at him from a nearby dugout. The rifle bullet blew Dean’s helmet off, grazing his scalp and dislodged a tooth, almost breaking Dean’s jaw. His assailant, however, immediately regretted his action.
At the end of that month, Dean was to wryly reflect how being under fire, caused an acceleration of digging in. At the time he and the remainder of the battalion were digging shallow shell scrapes around Barrel Hill, despite their total exhaustion. By the 1st November, Dean was the only corporal, of a total of nine, left on duty in C Company. Paech summarised that the 2/48th Battalion ‘had been effectively destroyed in fighting itself to a standstill on the night of the 31st, yet not once had they given up. It was an incredible feat of arms.’
One of Dean’s sobering memories was of the hot meal after the Company was withdrawn at Tel el Eisa. He and one other were the remaining two of seven men from his Platoon. Food had been prepared for several hundred men but just 41 survivors arrived for their hot meal, registering the horror on the faces of the cooks at the decimation of their ranks.
By the commencement of February, ’43, Dean’s battalion left the Middle East, heading home to Australia via Melbourne and much anticipated leave. Training in Queensland followed as the seasoned men then prepared to face a very different enemy in the tropical conditions of New Guinea. Dean arrived in Milne Bay early in August ’43 then soon received further promotions to Acting Sergeant, then Sergeant.
In October ’43 the 2/48th had been fighting in the heavy jungle as they advanced on the Sattleburg track on Tarakan. Dean was hit by a Japanese shell in his right calf, leaving him shell shocked but alive. Unfortunately, several of his platoon were killed before the attack could be silenced. Back home the December issue of the Advertiser carried an announcement that ‘Mr. and Mrs. C. Adams, of Forestville have been notified that their son Sgt. Dean Adams, has been wounded in action in New Guinea. Sgt. Adams sailed for overseas in November 1940, and returned to Australia in February last.’
Malaria then struck Dean before he was able to leave via Port Moresby for Brisbane.
In May ’45, the 2/48th came under intense Japanese fire in the battle for Sykes. In Tobruk to Tarakan John Glenn described how ‘sixty Japs shouting “Banzai” and yelling like banshees out of the mouth of hell, came charging at the depleted platoon – now reinforced by company headquarters personnel – in what was perhaps one of the most vicious counter attacks in the whole of the Tarakan campaign, and, throwing grenades tried to force the 2/48th from the hill. For answer, our troops rolled grenades down on the enemy, holding them back in a desperate grenade-battle.’ The men then dug in for the night. ‘All night long the jungle was alive with movement and sound as the Japs gathered their wounded and their dead from the lower slopes of Sykes or made one of their many sallies against our men, hurling grenades, to which our men replied with more grenades. Sergeasnt D. Adams of 15 Platoon was wounded and was sent back early on the morning of 7th May. A week later, the Advertiser carried the brief news ‘Mr. and Mrs. C. H. Adams, of Forestville, have been notified that their only son. Sgt. Dean Adams, of the 9th Division, was wounded in action at Tarakan on May 7.’
Dean was still recovering in hospital from being wounded, for the third time, by Japanese grenade fragments in his left elbow. Consequently, he left Morotai for Tarakan for medical treatment. There, he and the whole 2/48th Battalion was shocked to learn of Lieutenant Tom Derrick’s death. Dean sneaked out of the hospital to attend Derrick’s funeral, such was the respect in which ‘Diver’ was held. All those who served in the 2/48th had enormous respect for Derrick, known as one of the finest soldiers to represent Australia.
With the war finally drawing to an end, 25-year-old Dean returned home, via Sydney. He was discharged on the 21st November ’45. By March ’47, Dean was recognised for his ‘Distinguished Services in the South-west Pacific Area’. He was honoured by being Mentioned in Despatches. Exemplary service for one who was advised not to join the infantry.
Dean’s father, by then a retired farmer, lived to see his son return home safely. Aged 72, he died at his Forestville home in August, ’50 and was buried in Centennial Park.
Post war, Dean attended trade school, becoming a refrigerator technician, then manager of an electrical shop owner. Paech later summarised Dean’s mechanism for coping with the horrors of war by ‘turning his brain off’ during traumatic periods. Mention was made that he may also have drunk too much, according to his wife, had nightmares and flashbacks which ‘decreased in frequency’.
Aged 97, Dean died on the 18th June 2017. He had earned an OAM and was Mentioned in Despatches. Typically, at his funeral, instead of flowers donations to Legacy were in lieu. To the end, he remembered those who served with him. Dean now rests at Centennial Park Cemetery in Rose bed 7, Position 001.
Researched and written by Kaye Lee, daughter of Bryan Holmes SX8133, 2/48th Battalion.