Frederick Edward (Freddy) DUDLEY

DUDLEY, Frederick Edward

    Service Number: 6209
    Enlisted: 16 August 1916, Extract from his diary: Arriving on the Somme early in February 1917 we were at once sent up to the Line as a Fatigue Party for the Battalion and arriving at some 1000 yards behind the line at 1 a.m., we were told to make the best of things till daylight when we started to make possies in the shell holes (many of which were full of water) placing duckboards across them and rigging our waterproof capes on a stick above us. As we were near Batteries we soon heard from Fritz and things became more lively. Everywhere we gazed mud met the eye, and we gained some slight knowledge there and then of the part mud plays in war, for everywhere were guns and limbers up to their axles in mud and often we were called upon to lend a hand to extricate a mule or a horse which had sunk in the mud and we ourselves, when as we sometimes did stray from the duckboard tracks, trying to find a short cut home often found ourselves in a similar plight, and we came to realize very quickly the value of these wooden tracks. The only safe mode of transit over the shell torn, water logged fields of France. Our first Fatigue was carrying bombs to the support line and on the way up we lost – 9 killed and 11 wounded through chance shells from Fritz exploding amongst us, but our work had to be done and our comrades left behind as is the way of war, and so we carried on. There for the first time we saw the flairs Fritz sends up every now and then to see what is doing and we were instructed to keep very still whenever they went up as otherwise, we would attract their fire. We had heard of the Villages of Pozieres, Martinpuich, Bazentin etc, but we found them merely names, in many cases not even the bricks remaining, so devastating is the hand of war. After the first few nights we settled down, the excitement having worn off, and night after night saw us trudging backwards and forwards to the Line with rations and water which we took from shell holes, usually coated over with a coating of ice, avoiding those with a greenish slime as they very likely contained the body or bodies of dead men. Duckboard tracks had to be laid and ammunition brought up and it was a feeling of utter weariness that we crawled into our little shelters, glad of their feeble protection from the sleet and mud.
    Last Rank: Sergeant
    Last Unit: 18th Infantry Battalion
    Born: Woollahra, New South Wales, Australia, 24 November 1898
    Home Town: Roseville, Ku-ring-gai, New South Wales
    Schooling: Not yet discovered
    Occupation: Court Reporter
    Died: New South Wales, Australia, 28 September 1976, aged 77 years, cause of death not yet discovered
    Cemetery: Northern Suburbs Memorial Gardens and Crematorium, NSW
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    World War 1 Service

    16 Aug 1916: Enlisted AIF WW1, 6209, 18th Infantry Battalion, Extract from his diary: Arriving on the Somme early in February 1917 we were at once sent up to the Line as a Fatigue Party for the Battalion and arriving at some 1000 yards behind the line at 1 a.m., we were told to make the best of things till daylight when we started to make possies in the shell holes (many of which were full of water) placing duckboards across them and rigging our waterproof capes on a stick above us. As we were near Batteries we soon heard from Fritz and things became more lively. Everywhere we gazed mud met the eye, and we gained some slight knowledge there and then of the part mud plays in war, for everywhere were guns and limbers up to their axles in mud and often we were called upon to lend a hand to extricate a mule or a horse which had sunk in the mud and we ourselves, when as we sometimes did stray from the duckboard tracks, trying to find a short cut home often found ourselves in a similar plight, and we came to realize very quickly the value of these wooden tracks. The only safe mode of transit over the shell torn, water logged fields of France. Our first Fatigue was carrying bombs to the support line and on the way up we lost – 9 killed and 11 wounded through chance shells from Fritz exploding amongst us, but our work had to be done and our comrades left behind as is the way of war, and so we carried on. There for the first time we saw the flairs Fritz sends up every now and then to see what is doing and we were instructed to keep very still whenever they went up as otherwise, we would attract their fire. We had heard of the Villages of Pozieres, Martinpuich, Bazentin etc, but we found them merely names, in many cases not even the bricks remaining, so devastating is the hand of war. After the first few nights we settled down, the excitement having worn off, and night after night saw us trudging backwards and forwards to the Line with rations and water which we took from shell holes, usually coated over with a coating of ice, avoiding those with a greenish slime as they very likely contained the body or bodies of dead men. Duckboard tracks had to be laid and ammunition brought up and it was a feeling of utter weariness that we crawled into our little shelters, glad of their feeble protection from the sleet and mud.
    25 Oct 1916: Involvement Private, 6209, 18th Infantry Battalion, --- :embarkation_roll: roll_number: '12' embarkation_place: Sydney embarkation_ship: HMAT Ascanius embarkation_ship_number: A11 public_note: ''
    25 Oct 1916: Embarked Private, 6209, 18th Infantry Battalion, HMAT Ascanius, Sydney
    22 Feb 1917: Involvement AIF WW1, Private, 6209, 18th Infantry Battalion, Battle for Pozières , In his diary he wrote: The Battlefield Ypres 1917: It is practically impossible to convey the uninitiated any real idea of what a battlefield over which vast Armies have swayed to and fro presents. Here one sees working parties connecting up shell holes varying from 10 to 40 feet across so as to enable supplies of ammunition to be brought up to the Guns. Here one sees running like bands of silver in the distance the muddy, slippery duckboard tracks the only safe mode of transport over the treacherous bogs and overflowing shell holes for the passing Infantry. Grouped all along these tracks and along the Corduroy Roads floating on the surface of the water and slime, over which the Limbers and Transports rattle, lie mules and horses, and scores of broken wagons, Limbers, Guns, and shattered men, half buried in the slime, grim relics of the intensity and accuracy of the enemy’s barrage, and of the price success demands. Here one sees the massive pillboxes with their offenders lying in queer attitudes all around where our barrage has caught them in trying to escape from our advancing Infantry. Axle deep in mud the 18 pounders roll by, the horses straining at their chains, their drivers cursing and swearing madly to encourage them to fresh endeavours. In front of them again are other working parties making a 12-foot track for the Artillery to pass in safety, heedless of the shells bursting all around. Knowing the work has to be done despite the cost. Indeed, this war is more of a continued round of Fatigues than spectacular attacks. Ammunition parties, Ration carriers, and working Parties swarm everywhere and past all this scene of never-ending labour and tribulation the heavily laden Infantry pass heedless of all save the work that lies before them in the chill dawn at the morrow and over all this inferno the heavy Guns roar and crash, their flashes lighting up the horizon seeming as it were to be lashing themselves into a perfect frenzy of rage and fury and here by the enemy searching for the devils that are causing him so much trouble. Overhead the planes circle and swoop flying to pick up the location of the batteries that are in vigorously replying to our deluge of death. And over all this scene the spirits of the departed seem to brood, giving to this scene of desolation and destruction an indescribable air of grandeur and pathos which only the actors on this awful stage can fully comprehend.
    1 Nov 1917: Wounded AIF WW1, Private, 6209, 18th Infantry Battalion, Battle for Pozières , Extract from his Diary: At 6 a.m. on the 1st November we opened up a heavy barrage at Fritz seeing its full weight immediately sent up his SOS signals which his artillery immediately replied by an energetic counter barrage. Knowing instinctively that something was doing we came out of our concealed positions where we had retired for the day and manned our post, trusting in luck that our position would not be picked up. Slowly the barrage crept closer, when suddenly without warning of any kind, a terrific roar, and up I went into the air and then headfirst through a Dugout. Scrambling out as best I could I found our crew lying dead all around. Taking up the gun and magazines I went back to the Front Line just behind us and there stood to. After the barrage had lifted, I examined my foot which was aching considerably and found that I had received a nice little Blighty. But disappointment awaited me, for we wounded couldn’t move till dark as our position would then be picked up. After 12 hours had slowly gone by, I hobbled off with the aid of two stretcher bearers managed to reach our Aid Post near our Reserve Line where my foot was liberally sprinkled with iodine and bandaged up. From here I was carried on stretcher by 4 relays till we reached the Bircross Road. Fearing all the while that I would be hit for the Corduroy Road was marked and shells were falling all around. Picking up a Motor Ambulance here I was whirled away to the Divisional Dressing Station where I received fresh bandages and where a piece of shell was abstracted from my arm. Here also I had the luxury of clean pyjamas and a wash. All then being well I was hoisted into a Motor Lorry for the Ambulances could not cope with the rush, so Lorries were requisitioned, and whirled off jolting up and down, for these Lorries are not like the Rolls Royce, till I reached the 3rd Canadian Casualty Clearing Station, at Poperinge, Belgium, where my wounds were attended to again. Placing me on a trolley I was then whirled along the Light Railway Line, to the Train which was an enormous length, 28 carriages in all, and well fitted out with fans, containing three tiers of beds besides reading matter which we needed as the train was terribly slow, taking 24 hours from Poperinge to the Base of Abbeville, at the mouth of the Somme.
    23 Jul 1919: Discharged AIF WW1, Sergeant, 6209, 18th Infantry Battalion

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