311dhoume’0niuetfiity f _ 311119631119

WAR 11151110111111 ’

NUMBER

3:115 1920

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,

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The Melbourne

————mar——— (lbemorial Number

COMPILED BY GRADUATES AND UNDERGRADUATES OF THE UNIVERSITY, UNDER THE DIRECTION OF THE 1919 MAGAZINE STAFF

JULY , 1920

melboume:

FORD 51 SON. PRINTERS. DRUMMONI) STREET. CARLTON. 1920. 2

foreworb

This volume is the result of co-operation between the graduates and undergraduates of the University. The de- cision to publish it was made at a conference between the Students' Representative Council and delegates from the Melbourne University Association. Members of the associa- tion have been unflagging in their zeal, and have given the financial guarantee, without which the work could not have been attempted. The actual task of compilation has been performed by the magazine staff for the year 1919. The volume has three main divisions. The first comprises the oflicial Roll of Honour, revised by Mr. E. D. Ulrich. The second consists of photographs and brief accounts of the fallen. In the third , an attempt has been made to record the many phases of war experience, and to summarise the peculiar service rendered by the University. Special thanks are due to Captain C. E. W. Bean for his articles on the generals who came from our University. Apart from these articles, the whole production is the work of past or present students of the University. The task has been very great. The undergraduates who have been engaged on the work soon realised the enormous difficulties standing in the way of the compilation of an ex- haustive record. Voluntary work “after hours” can do much, but there is still more to be done, and it is to be ex- pected that the University will devote time and money to the completion of this record, building on the foundations that have already been laid. Meanwhile, it is well to remember that this Memorial is due to the spontaneous action of students, past and present; that it is the result of their labour, undertaken willingly; and that it is therefore inspired by a feeling of comradeship for those who fought, and those who gave their lives. a -A

CONTENTS.

Pun. Roll of Honor -- - Photographs of Dead -- Lieutenant-General Sir John Monash ... Major-Genel‘al Sir J . W. McCay - Brigadier-General Elliott - Brigadier-Generztl MeNicolI - Brigadier-General W. Grant - Captain Frank H. MacNainzu‘a, V.C. Open Covenants Openly Arrived At Their Peace -- -

muqqqq ~VO§OIOI$~ The Australians’ Part in the Checking of the Great German Ofi‘ensive of 1918 - With the Infantry -- With the Artillery -- With the Flying Corps - - The Signal Service - -

rf-NmiiN The A.A.M.C. in War Time -

geocomonoc A ”Varsity Man with the Army Veterinary Corps 101 Some Fun in a. ‘Var Balloon - 1'05 The Hour before Dawn - - 110 “Intelligence” in the Great \Var 112 At Sea - - - - 119 The Dover Patrol - -- Freiheits‘u‘che - - - 123 The Historical Associations of Salisbury Plain 126 Padres - — -- 130 The Moving and Billeting of Troops in France 131 Our Australian Hospitals at the War 134 The Regimental Medical Officer - 137 The A.A.M.C. in Sinai and Palestine The ALE Education Service - 143 Trinity College - -- 14-7 Ormond College -- - 148 Queen’s College - - - 151 The Work of University Women 152 Massage: A Branch of Service - 1541 The ‘Var Work of the University 155 A Skylark at Messines - - 161 Lines - - . . 162

Roll of War Service.

mote 4mm: 1111er or bteb on service are in heavy type.)

Abbott. S. B. Armstrong, G. W. Abbott, N. W. [M.C.] Armstrong, J. H. B. a’Beckett, G. M. Armstrong, W. L. Aberdeen. K1 G1 McK. Arnold, A. M. Abernathy, R. M. Asche, E. T. [M,MJ Adam. D. 5. Asche, H. C. J. Adam, J. P. Ashton, A, R, Adam, F. R. Atkins. C. N. Addison, A. S. [M.C.) Atklnson, J. P. Adeney, A. W. Avdall, E R. Adeney, T. W. [D.C.M.] Avery, J1 G. Adey, C. W. Backhouse, N. a’B. T. Adey, J. K. [O.B.E.] Backhouse, T. C. Adkins. C. Bacon, A. L. Agnew, J. W. A. Baae, E. F. R. Agnew. W. A. L. Balley, G. B. (M. in D.] Ahem, E. D. Bailey, K. H. Ainslie. A. J. Baillieu, C. L. [03.13.] Aird. J. A. Bain, D. G. Aitchison, A. M. Baird, A. Aitchison, R. D. Baird, G. M. Akeroyd, J. Baird, M. Albiston. H. E. Baker, \V. 5. Allen, c. 8. Baldwin, A. H. Allen. E. E. Bane, J. 3. Allen, G. K. Ball, W. J. Allen, H. W. Banks, (3. W. L. Allen, J. H. Barber, C. S, [M.C.] Allen, J. w. [C.M‘G.] Barbeta, A. L. Allen, S. H. Barnes, A. E. B. Allen, W. E. Barnes, E. S Allester, E. M. Barnes, H. P. Amiet, W, A. Barnett, L. W. Anderson, A. S. Barrett. A. H. Anderson, C. A. Barrett, Sir I. W. [K.B.E., C.B., Order of Anderson, D. C. Nile, 3rd Class, M. in D. 2] Anderson, D. V. K. [MAL] Barrett, K. J. DI. in D.—3] Anderson, G. G. Barrett, R. 8. Anderson, J. H. [C.M.Gl, C.B.E., LL in D. Hartley. 1. F. 2 Bartley, J. N. Anderson, J. R. [MlC] Bartram, R. D. [M.C.] Anderson, N. E. Bassett, R. C, Anderson, ‘T. L Bassett, W. E. [MHC] Anderson, W. 5. Bastings. E. Andrew, C. E. Basto, L. P. Andrews, R. S. Bateman, W. I. Annenr, P. D. Beamish, F. T. [O.B.E.] Apperley, F. L. Beaver, W. N. Appleford, S. T. Beech, G. A. Archer, “71 C. Bell. A. F. Argyle, S. 5. Bell, 1. B.

8

Bell. J. B. Braham, A. C. Braham, R. G. Brake, James Brake. John Brazier, Rev. C. G .03». Breidah], F. A

Brenan. A. J. Bennett. 9" Bennett, W. F. Brennan, E '1. [M.C., D.S.O., M. in 1). Bennie, A B. many times, thrice while in France] Benson, G.F.[1\I..Cl Brennan, F. Berry, H. D. Brent, L. P. Berthon, E. Bretherton, A. W. Best, I. C. Brett, F. P. Betheras, A. J. Bridges, W. F. N. [D.S.O.] Bidencope, C. V Bright, E. Bignell, F. L. [D...,SO M inD.] Brissenden, E. M. Birch, H R. Britten, E. H. Bird, D. [Mi in D.] Brocklebank, L. Gt Bird, F. [C. B. ] Brooke, C. Birnie,GDA.[.\1..C] Brookes, L. R Bimie, N. E S. Brooksbank, \V. H, Bimie, R. K. Broughton, G. E. Birrell, W. A. H. Brown. C. P. Bishop, F A C. Brown, E, J. Black,A H. Brown, E. T. B1ack,J.J.[D.O..',MS. Brown, J. N. Black J. P M. Brown, R. C. Black, R. L. c. Brown, 1T. W. Blackett, W.A.1\. Brown, V'. C. [M.C. and Bar] Blackmore, L Brown, \1’. G. Bladen, H. W. Brown, Warren H. Blair, J. M. Browne, D. D. Blaubaum, I. Browne, G. S. Blaubaum, O. Browne, H. W. Blannerhasset, J. P. Browne, M. M. H. Blogg, K. V. Brownell, H. P. [D.S.Ol, M. in D.] Boake, C. B H. Browning, D. De C. Bodycomb, B. L. Browning, H. H. Bodycomb, D. H. Bruce, I). Bond, F. S Bruche. J. H. Booth, A. Brunning, R. Booth, J, J. [M C.] Bryant, H. W1 [31. in D.] Buchanan, J S.

Borrie, E. F. s ,_. O 1-— Borrowman, J Buckland, W. A. J. Borwick, H B Buckley, S. L. Borwick, T. F. .,.M inD. 2, F.C. de Buley, N. G] Bullen, N. J. Bothamley, A. Bullivant. H. E. Bothroyd, T. C. Buntlne, w. H. c. [M.C.] Bouvier, F. A. Buntine, R. M. Bowden, H. H. Burke, A. E. [31.0] Bowen, c. E. Burleigh, H, Bowman, A. W. Bums, H. P. Bowman, W. A. Burrell, J. B. Boyd, H. J. Burridge, H. W. Bradbury, F. E. Burston. S. R. [D.S.O.] Bradbury, V. R. [MiC] Bury, G. C. Brady, J. B. Bush. H. S. 9

Biisst, T. N. M. Checchi, L. Butchart, J. E. Chenoweth, T. 0. Butler, H. R. M. Cherry, G. F. Butler, H. N. [D...SO, M. inD.] Cherry. J. H. Buzzard,1 Cherry, T. Byatt F. F. Cherry, '1‘. M. Byrne, J. B. Cheshire F. Byrnc, J. W. E. Chimside, J. I. MCI [M.C] Byrnesb T. P. Chrlstensen, c. P. Cade,D D. [D.S.O.] Churchward, C. M. Cahill, .A J. Clark, A. L. Cain, H. G. Clark, F. J. Cain, R. C. Clark, J. K. Calder, I. B. Clark, R. C. Calder, S. P. Clark, W. I. [M.C.] Callaghan, S. M. Clarke, C. L. Calvert, L. E. Clarke, C. W. St. J. Cameron, 1‘. 0. Clarke, Ethel S. St. J. Cameron, J. A. Clarke, R. Cameron, R. M. F. Clarke, R. M. Campbell, C. H. Clarke, W1 L. R. Campbell, c. R. Clarkson, C. H. Campbell, G. G. Clarkson, H. c. Campbell. J. C. [D.S_Oi] Clements, F. c. Campbell, J. L. M. Clough, J. S. Campbell, K. J. [M.C.] Clowes, A. S. Campbell, N. L. Coghill, D. M. R. Campbell. P. J. Cohen, B W. Campbell, 8. J. Cohen, H. E. [D%.O., C.\IG.] Candy, N1 E. Galahan, J. M. 0. Cannon. 1. G. Cole, G. E [D..SO.] Cantor, S. J. Collier, J. Capuano, E. Collins, N. J. Carleton, C. R. [M.C., M. in D.] Colins, T'. Carlile, H. I. Collins, W. H. [D.S.O., M. in D.] Carmichctel, G. F. ColIis, C. H. Came, A. G. [M.C.] Collyer, W . H. Carr, G. M. Colquhoun, J. F. Carroll, J. W. 1V1. Colquhoun, C. G. B. Garse, F. 8. Colquhoun, K. G. Carstairs, H. G. Colville, H. C. Carter, E. H. Connell, E. J. Carter, J. L. R. Connelly, A. W. Casey, R. G. [D.S.O., M.C.] Connolly, c. W. Catford, H. R. [M. in D.] Connolly, E. W. [D.S.O.] Cato, E. A. Gonnor, J. L. Cato, E. T. [M.C.] Connor, J. I. Cave, J. D. Conrick. H. V. P. [D.S.O.] Cave. M. W. [M. in D.] Cook, A. eaygm, L. M. Cook, C. E. Cerutty, L. J. Cook, G. A. [M.C.] Cerutty W. E. Cook. J. E. C. Chambers, J. F. Cook, J. S. Chambers, R. W [D.S.O.] Champion, E Champion, Rachel Chaplin, W1 W. W. Charlton, H. W. Checchi, C. 10

Coppel, E. G. David. T. A. Coppin, A. Davidson, A. I. Corbett, A. G. Davidson, J. M. [M.C.] Cordner, E. R. Davidson, K. MOM. Cordner, H. [M. in D.] Davies, C. W. Corr, 0. R Davies, E. E. Cory, T. Davies, G. F. Coulson, A. L. Davies, G V. [D.S.O., M.C., M. in D.] Courtney, C. W. Davies, H. M. Courtney, R. E [C.B.] Davles, H. W. Coutts, D. D. [D510] Davies, W. E. Cowen, S. 0. Davis, C. E. [LLC] Cox, L. B. Davis, C. H. [M.C.] Craig, C. Davis, G. E. Craig, S E. Dawson, W. G. Craig, R. F. [D.S.O.] Daymond, E. G. Craig, W. B. [D.S.O.] Dean, A. Crawcour, S. Dean, R. C. Crawford, H. Deane, C. Crean, J. W. Deane, E. W. Creed, S. S. Deans, A. Oreswell, R. W. [Serb. 0rd. White 15.] Deans, G. M. Creswick, H. F. Deans, G. W. Crisp, R. H. Deasey, D. M. Crivelli, G. M. [French War Cross] De Crespigny, C T. C. [D.S.O.] Crivelli, L. P. V. [French War Cross] De Crespigny, F. G. (F. Crivelli, Réné G. [French War Cross and De Garis, Mary C. Stars, M. in D. 3] de Lacy, O. F. Cracker, R. c. Demaine, R. S. Croker, F. S. [MHC] Dennis, C. E. [Brought to notice of S. of Croker, N. G. [M.C.] S. for War] Cronin, J. Deravln, A. F. Cronin, M. De Ravin, J. V. H. Crooke, C. E. Derham, A. P. [M.C.] Cross, K. S. Derham, F. P. [D.S.O., C. de G., M. in D.] Crotty, H. Dermer, E. G. Crouch, R. A. Desailly, J. G. Crowe, V. F. Dew, H. R. [Medaille d'Honneur] Crowley, A. H. Dewsnap, J. H. Crowther, H. A. [D5101] Dexter, W. E. [D.S.O., M.C., D.C,M.] Crowther, W. E. L. H. [D.S.O., M. in D.] Dickinson, C. G. Cudmore, E. O. Dickinson, C. R Cumming, D. G. Dickson, s. R. Cumming, N. D. L. Diggle, J. L. Cummins, A. K. Dinwoodie, C. Cunningham, K. S. Disher, H. C. Ounnlngham, P. J. Dixon, E. L. Currie, H. A. [M.C., M. in D.] Dobson, A. F. S. Cussen, 1\'I. L. Decker, H. 51 Cust, A. D. Dodd, S. Dale, N. R. Dodgson, P. H. Daly, L. B. Doig, K. NICK. [M.C.] Dane, P. G. Don, W1 G. Danglow, J. Donaldson, H. T. S. Darby, G. R. Donaldson, J. R. Darby, L. Donaldson, R. J. [D.S.O.] Dart, R. Donaldson, W. E. Dart, F. R. Donovan, G. T. Darwin, D. V. [M.M.] Doolan. W. R. 11

Dooley, N. H. Embling, H. A. Dosscter, F. E. Empey, W. A. Doubleday, J. L. Essen, Hilda W. Dougall, J. J. Ettlngove, S. Douglas, R. O. Ewing, 5. A1 Doull, R. McK. Falrley, E. R. Fairlie, R. A. Falrley, J. F. Fairley, N. H. 10.13.13,, M. in D.] Fargie, A. J. MCK. [M. in D.] Downey, M. H. [D.S.O.] Farrar. W. D. L. Downing, H. D. Farrell, J. P. Downing, J. H. Farrow. C. W. H. Downing, W. H. [M.M.] Faulkner, H. A. Doyle, D. B. Faulkner, N. W. [M.M., M.C., M. in D.] Doyle, L. Fay, F. W. [M.C., with Bar] Drake, E. J. R. Featonby, G. J. Drew, A. P. Featonby. H. N. Drought, J S. [M..C] Feilchenfeld, E. Drummond, A. P. Fenton, G1 Duffy, C. A. G. Fcnton, J. W. [M.M.] Duffy, C L. P. G. Fethers, B. D. Duffy, C. D. G. Fethers. G. E. Dufiy, D. McM. G. Fethers, P. Duffy, F. B. G. Fetherston, R. H. J. Duffy, J. L, G. Fetherstonhaugh, C. F . Duigan, H. McL. Fetherstonhaugh, T. G. [31.0] Dunhill, T. P. [C.M.G.] Field, A. E. W. Dunkley, H. L. Field, 0. A. Dunstan, H. F. [11. in D.] Fielding, G. A. [M. in D.] Dunstan, J. R. Filmer, J. F. Dyring, C. P. W. Finch, Val. Eadie, C. M. Flnk, G. Eadie, N. MI. Fink. T. Eakin, R. A Finlay, Gt Earp, G. H. Finlay, W. East. L. R. Finlayson, C. Eastwood, F. H. Finlayson, 1V1. Ebsworth, K. Finney, W. H. Edgar, J1 M. Firth, J. Edmunds, L. F. Fisher, A. G. B. Edwards. L. Fisher, E G. Eggington, H. T. Fitzpatrick, S. C. [111C] Eggington, \V. G. Fitzpatrick, T. Eggleston, A. S. Fleming, J. Eggleston, F. “1. Fletcher, J. H. Elder, H. RICA Flight, 01 T. H. Ellery, R. S. Flockart, A. P. Ellingworth, C. Flockart, J. T. [IVLBL] Elllott, G. S. [M.C.] Fogarty, A. c. Elliott, H1 E1 [C.B., C.I\I.G., D.S.O., D.C.M., Fogarty, J. P. [M.C.] Order of St. Anne of Russia 3rd Class, Fogarty, T. B. C. de G.] Forrest, H. S. Ellis, A. D. [M.C., M. in D.] Foreman, L. J. Ellis, C. A. A. Forshaw, W. J'. Elsum. L. P. JC. de G] Forster, J. A. B. Elvins, H. F. H. Forsyth, R. L. [M.C.] Embleton, D. M. [O.B.E., M. in D. 2] Foster. B 311 12

Foster, F. Glendlnnlng, A. J. Foster, F. H. Godby, W. H. Fowler, R. [O.B.E., M. in D. 2] Godfrey, E. W. C. Fox, A. R. Goldstein, A. Fox, T. L [O.B.E., Mi in D. 2] Goldsteln, s. Foxton, H. V. Geller, A. E. Foyster, R. C. Good, R. N. S. Franklands. H. W. Gordon, J. [C.M.G.] Franklin. R. P. German, E. [M.C.] Fraser, A. C. [1\L in D.] Gosse, W. H. [M.CJ Fraser. D1 M. Graham, H. B. [D.S.O., M.C., M. in D.] Fraser, J. N. Graham, W. A. Fraser W Grant, A. McG. Fraser W A. [D.S.O. M. inD.] Grant, F. J. A. Fra_1ne, W R. Grant, R. Frazer. E. L. Grant. R. W. Freadman, Z. E. Grant, W. [C.M.G., D.S.O., and Bar, Order Freeman, L. A. of the Nile] Freeman, N. M. Graves. E. I. L. Freemantle, N. F . Gray, B. W. Friend, C. Gray J. Frost, C. \V. Gray,J . A. [M.C.] Fullagar, W. K. Gray, J. T. [M.C.] Fullarton, A Y. [BL in D.] Gray, W. C. Gafiney. F. C. B. Green. A. I. Gandevia, E. N. H. Green, H. F. Garde. G. D. C. Green, J. S. Garden. A. F. Green. T. F. Gardlner, J. [M.C.] Greenham. D. P. Gardiner. R. S. [M. in D.] Greenwood, A. W. Gardner, M. C [MC.] Gregg, J. J. Gamett, W. 8. Gregory, c. 0. Garson, L B. Gregory, R. H. Gates. A. C. F. Greig. N. J. [M. in D.] Gault. H. W Grenness, V. B, C. Gawler JS Grieve, J. W. Gear, J. F. [M.C.] Grltmh, H. H. George, T. E. Griffith, J. V Gibb, H. I. Griffiths, J. W. Gibbs, R. H. M. [M. G.] Griffiths, M. E de B4 Gibbs, W. D Grimshaw, N. S. Giblin, A. L. Grlmwade, G. R. 9.1111111, E. L Grounds, A. E E. Gibson. A. H. [M. in D.] Grove. G. C. Gibson, A. R. Grundy, W. M. Gibson, E. J. L. Grutzner, F. W. Gibson, R. R. Guaran, R M. J. Gibson, S. G. [M.C.] Guest, J. V. H. [Belgian C. de G.] Gilbert. H. Guinness, J. Gill, F. L. Gunson, W. N. Gill, H. B. Gutteridge, E. W. Gillespie, J. E. Gutteridge, A. G. Glllesple, R. M. Gutteridge, N. M. Gillies, A. M. Hackworthy, H. G. [MC] Gillies. R. M. Haddow, J. D. Gilmour, J . C. Hagan, E. C. Glassford, E. M. G. [M.C.] Hagenauer, H. A. Gleason, T. V. J. Hailcs, W. A. [D.S.O.] 13

Hain, R. E. Hemphlll, R. Hains, G. 31. Henchman. H. H. Hall, A. S. Henderson, J. BI. [)I.C.] Hall, J. G1 Henderson. K. T. Hall, R. F. Henderson, R. L. [M.C.] Hall, T. M. Henderson, W. A. L. H. [French War Cross, Halkyard, F. P. 111. in D. 2] Ham. B. B. Hendry, T. M. Ham, W. L. [D1 in D.] chnessy. L. H. Hamilton, C. Henty, B. E. A. Hamilton, E1 J. Henty. W1 dc W. Hamilton, H '1‘ Hepburn, E. A. Hamilton, P. M. [M. in D.] Heriot, S. Hammonyd, A. G. Heron, \V. L. Hampton, N. W. Herring, E. F. [M.C.] Hancock, A. L. Herring, .117. Hancock, J. Mac. Heslop, G. G. [D..S.O, M in D.] Hankin, T. H. Heywood, R. H. Hanlin, J. F. Y. Hickinbotham, A. R. Hansford, G1 E. Higgins, C. W. Harbcck, L. Higgins, E. 1V1. Harbison, E. F. ngglns, M. B. Harbison, H. WC Higgins, T. I. Hardie, A. O Highett, R. F. Hardman, J. G Hill, E. “1. Hardy, C. H. W'. [D..SO] Hill, Geo Hardy, R. Hillard, R I. Hare, H. PH. Hillman A J. [M.C] Harkness, E. Hills, W. Harper, G. C. Hlnman, A. G. Harper, 6. T. Hinman, \V. F. [DLC] Harper, H. W. Hodges, E. N. [ C] Harper, J. C M. [MC] Hodges, G. A. Harris, J.R Hogan, A. D. Harrison, W. E. J. Hogan, G. C. Hutley, P. G. Hogan, G. G, Harton, H. 0. Hogg, R. W. [MC with Bar] Harvey, W. W. Hoggart, J S Hateley, E. J. Hoggart, W. R. Hauser, E. Holden, A. T. [C.B.E1] Hawkins, H. R. Holding, Wanda Hayes, F. J. B Holland, H. C. Hayes, R. H. Hollyhoke, A. D. Hayes, R H. [C.MG., DCM] Holmes, E. c. Hayes, T1 F. Holmes, F. Hayes, V. L Holmes, H. R. Hayes, W. I. Holmes, 1'. L. Haynes, H. Holmes, K. w. Hearne. w. W. [D.S.0.; Cav.1talian 0rd. Holmes, M.AAJ. V[D.S.O. C. (1er L1. in D] St. Mark & St. Lazarus] Home, G. A Heath, J. S. R. [M1 in D.] Honman, A. V. Heathcote, A. E. Honman, C. S. Heathcotc, N. C. Hood. L. J. Heatley, R C. Hope, W. W. Hebbard, F. F. Hordem, A. Hcdding, W. A. Hordern, c. Hefferman, E. B. Hore, R. M. Hcintz, H. T. Horgan, J. P. 14

Hornabrook, R. “7. Jamieson, D. D. [M.C.] Home, G. Jancs, C. V. Horsfall, A. H. [D.S.O.] Jeffkins, W. Horsfall, L. A. Jenkin, P. A. Horsfall, W. N Jenkins, R1 E. Hosking, J. B. O. Jenklns, E. E. Hosking, R. Jenkins, F. J. [M.C. with Bar] Houghton, \V. S. Je11nens, V. C. Hourigan, F1 V. A. Jermyn, F1 D. House, P1 C1 Jessep, A. W. Houston, A. S. Johnson, A. Howden, R. Johnson, A. S. Howells, E. D. Johnson, A. “7. Howells, L J. Johnson, C. H. Huckell, E. V. R. Johnson, F. M. Hudson, C. L. Johnston, “’1 R. Hudson, J. B. Johnston, W. W1 S. [M.C., D.S.O.] Hughes, E. W1 Johnstone, J1 C. Hughes, F. G. [C.B.] Johnstone, R. N, Hughes, M. R. Jolley, A. F. [M. 111 D.] Hughes, R. E. Jones, F. M. Hughes, W. Kent Jones, Isaac Hughston, J. Jones, L. E. P. Humphreys, S. E. Jones, P. J1 Joseph, L L. Joske, E. S. Joske, H. D. A. Hunter, H. H. Jowett, A. C. Hurley, L. E. Jowett, E. c. Hurley, T. E. V. [C.M.G.] Joyce, A. H. Hurrey, H. G. Joynt, O. Hurtridge, O. K. Julien, E. W. Hutchinson, H. S. Junner, N. R [M.C.] Hutton, 0. A1 Keane, F1 E. [RIC] Hyatt, A. N. Keane, J. Hyctt. H. R. Keast, W. R. Inglis, E. M. H. Keays, C. E. O. Inglis, T. R. Kedge, c. A. Ingram, B. Keene, E. H. D. Ipsen, C F. H. Keep, A. L. Irving, H. A, C. Kellaway, C. H. [M.C.] Irwin, W. H. Kellaway, F. G. [M.C.] Jack, A1 L. Kelley, R. B. Jack, B. D. Kelly, D. Kelly, J. J. Jackson, C E Kelly, J. P. Jackson, E. S. Kelly, L. H. Jackson, F. W1 Kelly, M. B. [C. de G., M. in D.] Jackson, H. E. Kelly, W. Jackson, J. H. Kelly, W. R. Jacobs, H. S. Kelso, A. D. Jagger, T. R. [M.C.] Kclso, A. E. [M.M.] James, C. P. Kelynack. P. T. James, F. H. [M.C.] Kendall, E. A. [C.M.G.] James, G. E. Kennedy, D. James, H. M. Kennedy, M. 8. James. W. A. Kennedy, R. J . Jameson. D. N. Keogh, E. V. [M.M., D.C.M.] 15

Keown, A. W. Le Maistre, F. [D.S.O.] Kermode, H. C. Lemon, . D. Kerr, E. J. Lemon, F. A. Kerr, F. R. [D.S.O.] Lempriere, C. L. Kerr, F T. Leon, J. H. Kerr, G. T. Leslie, E. T. Keyes, D. T. Le Souef, A. W. Kidd, L1 S. Le Souef, E. A. Kiddle, J. B. Le Souef, H. D. King, C. E. Le Souef, R. F. Kininmonth, J. C. [D.S1O.; (Twice. M. in Lovl, K. M. D Levi, R. N. Kitchin, F. B. Levinson, B. A. Klingender, K. a’B. Levy, Leo Knight, G. A. Lewis, J. B. Knight, F. F. C. Lewis, K. B. Knight, R. G. [M.C1] Lewls, 0. G. Knott, J. E. Lewers, H. B. [O.B.E., D.S.O.] Krcrouse, F. T. Lewers, T. B. Lachal, G. C. Ley, M. A. Lade, L. C. ledelow, A. Lade, R. F. Lllburne, A. M. [M.C.] Laing, J. K. C. Lilford, A. G. R, [M.C.] Lambden, J. A. [M.C.] Lillies, G. L. Lamble, R. leerock, J. G. Lang, A. A. Lind, E. F. [D.S.O., M. in D.] Lindon, J. H. [M.C, M1 in D.] Lindsay, S. J. [M. in D.] P. H. Lines, D. H. E. Langdon, R. R. Lines, J. H1 M. Langford, P. C. W. Llster, c. R. Langlands, F. C. Liston, R. B. Langlands, F. H. Little, L. E P. [M.M., M.C.] Langley, A. W. H. Littlejohn, C. W. B. [M.C., Belgian C. de Langley, G1 F. [D.S.O., Serbian Order of G., Mons Medal] White Eagle, 51h Class] Littlejohn, E. I. Latham, J. G. Littlejohns, R. W. Latham, L. S. Living, R. M. Laughlin, A. [M c] Lockhart, N. E. Lawrence, P [M.C.] Long, G. J. Lawrence, 03> D Long, G. I\I. [C.B.E.] Lawrence, .A Longden, N. A. Lawrence, .W Wt‘ Looney, F. H. Lawton, F. D. H. B. [M. in D.] Lord, A. W. Lawton, J. T. Lorimer, G. N. Lazarus, A1 M. Lormer. A. Lazarus, S. C. Loosli, R. B. Leahy, H. G. Loughran, H. G. Lear, L. W. Love, J. Leckle, W. A. Love, S. G. [D.S.O. and Bar, M.C.] Lee, H. B. [D1S.O., M.C.] Low, V. F. S. Lee, J. R. Lucas, c. D. Leedman, C. H. [M.C. and Bar] Luke, W. A. Legsv J. Lukey, E. J1 Leggatt, W. W. [M.C.] Lumb, S. F. [Russian Order St. George] Legge, G. F. Lumsden, D. F. Leitch, J. B. Luth, H. C. Leitch, O. Lyall, D. M. 16

Lynch, P. B. R. Macky, F. Lyttle, S. P. McLaren, C. I. McAdam, C. G. McLaren, J. McArthur, G. A. D. McLaren, S. B. MacBain. S. McLaren, W. \\’1 McBeath, D. BICLean, J. B. [D1S.O.] McCaHum, C, A. McLean, K. A1 [M,C. with 13111] McCallum, F. McLean, R1 _ McCallum, P. )1chnmm, A. N. [1\LC.] McCay, H. W. McLennan. G. C. McCay, Sir James W. [K.C.M.G., C.B1, MacLeod, E. L K.B.E., Commander’s Cross, Fr. Legion McLeod, J. K. of Hon.] Macleod, L. H, B. McCleery, A. A. McLorinan, H. McColl, N. BIaclure, A. F. [O.B1E., M. in D.] McCormack, W. T. [C. de G.] Maclure, N. A. McCovey, H. McMahon, F. F. McCowan, D. D. McMahon. J. J. McOutchan, F. M. hIcMahon, L. L. McCutcheon, A. B. McNab, L. M. hIcDonald, J. McNamara, 1“. [V.C.] McDonald, J. E F. hIcNeil, D. MacDonald, N. MacNeil, N. H. [M.C.] McDonald, S. F. [M. in D.] MCNicol, D. A. C. MacDonnell1 G. N. McNicoll, W. R. [D.S.O., C.B., C.M.G.] McGee, J. H. MePhee, J. C. Macglbbon, A. J. McPhee, R. G. [M. in D.] MacGillicuddy, C. F. Macpherson, L. M. MncGillivray, W, D. K. McQueen, M. MacGregor, W. MacRoberts, A. H. McGuigan, H. I. J. McShane, A. J. McIIroy, J. McShane, C. Macindoe, H. C. G. MacVean, A. C. Macindoe, R. H. F. McWhae, D. M. [M.C1, D.S.O., C.M1G1, Mclndoe, R. W. C.B1E., C. de Chev. Legion d’Hon1] McIntyre, F. [M.C.] I\IcWiiliams, H1 H. McIntyre, L. A. Madden, G. McIver, G. J. K. IUadden, G. R. McKay, Alan Madden, J. C Mackay, C. V. hIahon, A. L’E. McKay, E. B. Malzony, D. J. Mackay, E. R. Mailer, $1. H. [D.S.O1, M1C] MacKay, G. E. Mair, F. H. S. Mackay, J. D. Major, H. S. McKay, J. G. Major, J. C. Mackay, J. S. [M.C. with Bar] Makin, F. H. Mackay, M. N. Makin, J. J. Maekay, N. J. [M.C] Malcolm, L1 W. G. Mackay, R. G. Bfalcolm, R. A. G. LIcKenna, C. T. Male, L. G. McKenna, M. Manchester, G. E. McKenzie, J. C Manchester, L, L. McKenzie, R. V. Manderson, H. L. Mackenzie, W. C. Mgnfield, J. S. McKinley, H. R. Mangan, W. B McKinley, J. G. Mann, F. de C. Mackinnon, D. hIann, J. S. Mackinnon, D. C. NIann, L. MacKnight, C. C. Maplcstone, P. A. [D.S.O1, M. in D.] 17

Marks, L. R. Miller, E. C. Marsden, W. C. Miller, F. 113 Marshall, C. C. Miller, N. A Marshallsca, G. J. C. Miller, R. W. W Martin, A. A. G. hIiller, H Martin, C. J. [C.M.G., M. in D.] Milligan, E. 1T. C Martin, C. S. hIills, H.D Martin, F. B. 311115, RC Martin, F. R. B. [M.C] Mills, R. 0. Martin, J. H. Milne, A. Martin, L. S. Minogue, H. Martin, S. c. Mirams, J. H. [M.C.] Mason, C. C. Mitchell, E. Mason, C. T. Mitchell, H. St. Masters, F. G. .\1itchell,H.\V.CF. [MC] Matear, C. Mitchell, L. J. Matenson. P1 VIolesworth, W. CF. Matheson, L. N. Molloy, C. H. hIathew, J. 1VI1 Monash Sir John [G.C.VI..,G K..CB., V..D Mathew, M. S. American Distinguished Service Medal, lVIathew, R. Y. Grand Officier de la Couronne dc Bei- Mathews, N. R. [1V1.C1] gique, Belgian Croix de Guerre French 1\'1:1thieson, J1 Croix de Guerre with Palms] Mathieson, L. Moodie, C. G. G. Mathlson, G. e. M. Mooney, W. F. A. Matson, T. [D.S.O.] Moore, J. H. Matthews, H. H. Moore, J. H. Matthews. R. M. T. [M.C.] Moore, Margaret Mattinson \V. H. R Moore, W. E. Maudsle), Sir H. C. [K.C.\I.G. CB.E1] Moorhousc, W. E. Maudsley, H. F. [M.C.] Moran, 17. H. [M.C.] Muted, S. E. Moreton, F. E. Maxwell, C. Morgan, E. M L May, D. G. Morlet, C. [131510, )1. in D] May, R. F. Morlet, J. Mayman, G. L. Morris, A. E. Meade, F. G. Morris, B. M. Meagher, F. R. Morris, J. G. Meagher, L. C. [M.C . with Bar] Morris, T. Meldrum, F. Morrison A. R. Melhuish, C. A. Morrison. G. N. I. Melhuish, T. d’A Morrow. H. G. Melrose, B. S. hIorshezid, 1, J. [D.S1O.] Melville, A. H. lIortnn, W. A. [D.S.O., )1. in D. 2] .Melville, F, O. Balfour Moss, A. Melville, H. D. G. IVIoule, G. G. [.VI.C.] Melvln, J. Moulo, H . Mendelsohn, H. Mountain, J. K. Menzies, F G. BIountjoy, P. L. H. Mepham, W. G. Mountjoy. S. A. Merrillees, C. R. )Iueller, F. C. hIerritt, R. V. Munro, E. F Merl, G. P. \1untz, .\. J Mickle, K. A. [D18 0.] IVIurdoch; T. [D. SO. ] hIiddleton. A. E. Muriel C[. V1. C. ] Mlller, Alex. Murphy,J. JJ. Mlller, A. Guy Murphy, R. L. S. Miller, A. R. Murray, H. L. 4 18

Murrell, W. L. O‘Meara, A. T. Mylrea, E. A. O’Neill, J. Mylrea, E. W. O’Neill, J. J. Nance, F. L. Orchard, W. H. [M.C.] Nash, N. S. [C. dc G.] Osborne, J. L. Nathan, A. J. Osborne, G. B. Neal, F. McK. O’Sulllvan, B. M. Nelson, W. H. [M.M] O’Sullivan, M. B. Nesbitt, M. D. O’Sullivan, M. H. Nevin, W. F. O‘Sullivan, R. F. Neville, A. Owen, A. G. Nevett, H. O. [BLC] Owen, F. J. Newell, J. A. Paine, D. W. Newing, S. J. Park, R. L. Newton, G. L. Parker, A. H. [RICH 1%. in D.] Newton, H. A. S. Parker, H. W. Newton, W. S. Parker, J. F. W. Neylon, J. L. Parkes, S. T. Neylon, M. Parnell. T. Nicholas, A. )1. Parramore, G. \V. Nicholas, G. M. [D.S.O.] Parry. R. E. Nlcholas, J. J. [M. in D.] Pascal, H. R. Nicholas, P. Paterson, R. B. Nicholls, G. G. Paterson, W. J. Nicholls, G. H. C. Paton, F. J. Nicholls, J. E. Patrick, J. F. Nicholson, J. D. Patton. M. G. [M.C.] Noakes, F. C. Patterson, S. W. Normand, R. C. [M.M.] Patterson, W. J._ Norris, F. K. Patton, R. T. Norris, J. D. [M. in D.] Paul, H. R. Norris, \V. P. Peacock, W. K. North. E. A. Pearce, J. V. North, W. J. F. Pearce, L. T. [D.C.M.] Nott, F. J. Pearce, W. B. Noyes, A. W. F. Pearson, C. W. K. Nunan, P. C. Pederick, E. B. Nye, E. Peel, J. c. Pelton, N. Penfold, H. L. O’Brien, J. P Penrose, J. S. O’Brien, \V, P. Perlstein, E. P. O’Bryan, N. J. G. Perrins, F. C. O’Collins, P. F. Peters, 0. H. O’Dowd, R. A. Peterson, F. T. Officer, F. K. [M.C., 0.13.11] Peterson, F. G. R. Ogden, G. M. Pethebridge, H. V. Ogllvle, 1'. A. Phillips, A. E. O’Hara, F. A. Phillips, F. B. O’Hara, O. Phillips, L. W. O’Hara, \V. E. Phillips, P. D. [31.31.] Oldfield, L. Piesse, M. H. O’Leary, R. D. Pigdon, D. C. Oliphant, T, A. Plllow, R. N. Ollve, W. M. Pincus, C. Ollver, c. J. Pinnock, D. D. Oliver, C. K. [M.C. and Bar] Plranl, c. s. Oliver, R. C. Pitcher, J. G. 19

Pitman, E. J. G. Reynolds, E. R. T. Plunkett, H. S. Reynolds, J. T. Ponsford, C. H. S. Richards R. E. [C. dc G.] Ponsford, F. W. A. Richards. J. K. Porter, J. R. Richards, R. E. Postle, H. T. Richards W. R. Potter, H. R. Richardson, F. J Powell, A. H. [D.S.O.] Rlchardson, G. H. Powell, D. R. s. Riddell, C. C. [D.S.O.] Power, F. D. Riddle. T. J. Praagst, H. F. Riedle. J. Prendergast, G. L. Riggall, H. Prichard, J. L. Roberts, L. E. W. Prichard, N. L. Robertshaw, H. M. Pridgeon, E. D. Robertson, A. J. Prlmrose, L- 15- Robertson, A. T. [M.C., M. in D.] Prior, A. S. Robertson, D. C. [D.C.1\1.] Prltchard, L. B. Robertson: 1:, Procter. H. A. Robertson, F. G. Profitt, J- W- C. Robertson G. B. Prydc, A. Robertson, G. O. Prydc, D. Robertson, H. J. Pryde, N. Robertson, J. R. Puckle, H. N. .\1. [Italian Silver Medal for Robertson, W. \. Mil Valour] RobePtsOn, W. F. Pumell, K. C. [M.C.] Robertson, W. L. Putnam, P. T Robin, A. H. Pyke, Ey. Robinson, G. S. [M.C. and Bar] Quick, B. [D...SO, M. in D.] Robinson, J. W. [D.C..\I.] Quinlivan, C. L. Robinson, .\1. E. Quirk, E. J. Robson, Edgar I. Rabling, H. Robson, Ernest I. Rae, F. J. Roche, J. F. Raleigh, G. H. Rodda, E. E. Ramsay, R. A. Rot:Y J. E. Randell, A. E. Rogers, J. D. [M.C., M. in D. 2, Belgian Rasmussen, A. E. C. de G.] Raverty, J. H. Rogers, J S. [M.C.] Raw, w. W. Rogerson, w. Ray, V. E. Rolland, F. \V. [M.C.] Raymond, F. R. Rolland, R. Mi Read. A. L. Rollason, G. 31. Read, F. C. Rooney, L. D. Read, 5. J. D. Rosenficld. R. L. Redmond. J. Rosenthal, J. Reed, J. S. Rose, H. N. I. Rees. H. C. Rose. W. J. Rees, M. A. Ross, C. P. Reeve, E. R. ROSS, H. 0. Reid, C. C. Ross, H. H. Reid, J. c. [M.C.] Ross, K. C. Held, .1. M [M.C.] Ross,T G[D.S.O., M. in D.] Reid, K. S. Ross. T. W. field, H. A. Ross, \V S. Rennick, \V. H. Rossiter, A. L Remoul, J. L. Rossiter F D. Retallack. C, B. Rothera, A. G. H. Reynolds. A. C. Rowan, A J D 41 20

Rowan, 1 H. Sherwin, J. A. II. Rowan. L Shields, Sir D. A. [K.B.] Rowan, R Shields, 5. W, Rowan, s R. Shiels, D. O.

Rowan. ‘Hsam 3" Shiels, N. L. Rowntree, E R mrcj Shoebridge, W. H. Rudd, J. A. Shuter, R. E. Rule, L. B. Shugg, A. W. Rundle, R. P. Silbcrberg, M. D. Rushton. V. L. Simonson, E. L. Russell, R. Hamilton Simpson, S. L. Rutter, H. mmmP.¢ Rutter, J . H. Simson, R. [D.S.O.] Ryan. L. H. Slattery, L. V. D‘.\, Ryan, Sir C. S. [K.B.E., C.B., C.M.G.] Slaughter, E. M. Ryan, E. J . Sleeman, J. G. Ryan, R. W. Sleaman, J. M. Ryan, T. J . Smeal, J. A. Ryan, W. B. Smith, A. B. Sadler, N. H. Smlth, E. R. I.\I..\I.] Sale, F. J. C. [M.C. and Bar] Smith. F. V. Salter. A. C. H. Smith, G. Lamb Sampson, F. K. Smith, G. S. [M.C.] Sandars, H. L. Smith. H. G. Sandiford, N. W. W. Smith, H. G. L. Sandra], D. M. Smith, H. R. Gangster, L. F. Smith' J. G. Saunders, J. H. Smith, J. M. Savige, H. W. Smith, L. C. [M.C.] Sawers, J. B. Smith, N. G. D. Sawers, W. C. [D.S.O., M. in D.] Smith, N. H. Scantlebury, G. C. Smith, N. Hamilton [Italian C. de G.] Scantlebury, Vera Smith, R. R. [M.C.] Schuler, P. E. F. Smith, Sydney H. S&mgWJ. Smith, S. Wright [M.C.] Scott, 6. R. Smith, W. E. Warns [M.C.] Scott, J. D1 K, Smith, W. Kennedy Scmt. R. G. Smith, W. P. Scrivener, E. S. Smyth, J. G. Searby, C. H. C. Smythc, C. G. Sccomb, H. H. Snowden, W. T. Seddon, H. R. Sodcn, H. Ross Seelenmeyer, c. R. [M.C.] Soden, J. L. Ross Seward, J. T. L. Somers, N. E. E. D. Sewell, P. B. Southwick. M. H. Sewell. R. R. B. South, Harold Sexton, C. W. N. Southey, A. H. Sexton, H. M. Ellen Southey, M. V. [D.S.O.] Seymour, D. J. B. Southey, W. G. Shanasy, I. A. [MC.] Southwell, B. C. S. S. Sharland. J. L. W. Spalding, J. K. Shaw, C. G1 [D.S.O.; )1. in D.] Spargo, E. Shaw. F. M. Speed, A. D. Shaw, G. E. Speed, H. Shaw. R. M. Spcirs, N. L. Shelley, J. E. Spence, R. M. Sherrard, H. M. Spencer, W. G. Sherwin, E. Spowers, A. [M.C., D.S.O.] 21

Spowcrs, E. A. Sutcliffc, E. H. Sproule, G. M. [M.C.] Sutherland, B. M1 [O.B.E.] Sproule, J. St. G. Sutherland, D. Sproule, W. St. G. Sutherland, I. H. Springthorpe, J. \V. Sutherland, K. [M.C.] Stafford. H. R. [M.M] Sutherland, R. Tate Stanhope, R. A. 13. Sutherland, W. 1'. Stanley, C. Sutton, G. Stanley, W. Sutton, Harvey [M. in 1)] Stanton, B. 1.. Sutton, R. E. Stapleton, T1 13. Sweet. W. S. starllng, B. A. Sweetnam, R. I. Starr, L. V. Swinburne, H. L. Stawell, R. R. Sydes, E. J. Steel, W. H. Syme, A. l). Steele, C. 5. Syme. G. A. Steele. H. G. Symonds. S. L. Steele, W. H. Tait, A. T. [M.C.] Steminger, L. C. Tait, J. B. Stenning, A. E. Tait, J. T. Stephen, C. T. Talbot, N. C. [M.C.] Stephen, K. T. [M.C.] Talbot, R. J. de C. Stephens, A. G. Tate. W. F. Stephens, L. V. Taylor. I“. \V. Stephens, W. F. Taylor, R. M. Stephenson, K. A. Taylor, T. Sterling, J. H. [M.C.] Teague, H. 0. Stevens, P. A. Tompleton, T. H. Stevens, R. H. Thomas, C. Stevenson, A. F. Thomas, D. J. Stewart, c. A. Thomas, E. 0. Stewart, C. \V. [M.C.] Thompson, C. C. S:e\\'art, H. B. Thompson, C. G. L. Stewart, M. A. Thompson, J. L. Stewart. R. St. C. [.\1. in D.] Thoma, A. R. Stillman, L. R. [M.C.] Thornell, E. A. StlrIlng, F. M. Thwaites, A. H. [D.S.O.] Stockdalc, H. Thwaites, J. A. Stodart, C. M. [M.C.] Thwaites, J. L. Stone, F. \V. Tinney, H. G. Storrs, W. T. Tinney, H. R. Story, C. B. Todd, B. Story, G. Tong Way, S. J. Strachan, J. F. Tonkin, C. J. Strahan. F. Tovell, J. F. H. Street, R. E. [31.11.] Towl, P. G. Streeter, J. E. Trail}, J. W. Stretch, J. C. W. Trainer, G. IT. Stretch, T. N. H. [M.C. and Bar] Tregear, \V, G. H. Strbm, H. G. Tregonning, D. R. C. Strong, R. H. Trcmbath, W. R. Stuart, G. E. 31. [D.S.O.; M. in D.] Tromearne, A. J. N. Stubbs, C. W. O. Trickett. D. E. Stuchbery, H. 1N1. Trigge, H. H. Sulllvan, c. F. Trinca, A. J. Summons, Viva St. G. Trinca, F. L. [1\I.C.] Summons, \V. E. [O.B.E.] Tritschler, H. J. Surman, T. W. Trotman. G. L. T. 22

Trumble, 111 C. [M.C.] Wasley, M. R. Trumble, T. C. [M. 111 D.] Waterhousc, A. R Tucker,11. Waters A J [M. in D.] Tulloch, D. \Y. Waters, W. H. Tulloch S S. G Watson, C. E. [M.C.] Tulloh, A. Watson, R. F. Tunbr’ldge, G. 8. Watt, T. Tunnock, D. B. Watt, T. J. S. Turnbull, H. H. [Brought to notice of S. Weaver, R. G. of S. for War] Webb, 0. M- Turnbull, J. Webb, J. R. [M. in D.] Turner, E. Webb, V. G. Turner, K. K. Webster, C. \V. W. Turner. L. R. Webster, P. S. Turner, W. A, Webster, R. M. W. [M.C.] Tweddell, E. Webster, T. Tymms, A. O. V. . Weigall, A. Tyrie, E. Weir, A. A. [.\1.M.; .\I. in D.] Upjohn, \V. G. D. [O.B.E.; .\1. in D. 2] Welch, E. R. Upton, H. E. G. Welshman, A. J. B. Upton, R. E. R. [M.C.] \Verthcim. R. Upton, T H. [O.B.E.; .\1. in D.] West. J. M. Urquhart, J. Weston, E. A. Vale, L. E. \Vettenhall, R. R. Vance, W. B. \1’harton, J. L. Veal, H. J. E. Wheatland, F. T. VealL C. R. Wheatley, A. W. Vcrcoc, E. L. Whitaker, J. G. Vlckery, J. S. S. White, A. E. Rowden Vincent, R. P. White, E. R. [M. in D.] Vine, J. .\1. White, J. M. [M.C.] Vines, R. A. White, N. B. Visick, C. White, W. P. Wade, T. H. Whitehead, E. H. Wadsworth, P. Whitehead, P. N Wain, W. E. Whitehead, V. J. Wain, F. W. F. Whitford, R. S. Walker, H. R. Whiting, H. J. Walker, W. J. V. Whittam, T. J. K. Walker. J. P. Whlttel‘on, E. R. Walker, 0. R. Wickens, H. F. [M.C.] Walker, P. H. Wigley, J. E. M. Walker, W. J. V. Wigley, R. S. Walklatc, C. J. Wllcock, A. Wall, A. G. N. Wilcocks, R. G. WallY J. A. Wilkinson, J. W. Wallace, R. S. Wilkinson, L. E. Waller, D. M. Wilkinson, W. S. Walls, W. A. Williams, A. S. Walters, R. L. Williams, C.M.[I\1.C.] Waltham, R. A. A. Williams, H. E Wanklyn, D. E. Williams, H J.[D..501] Wanliss, D. S. [C...MG] Williams, J. R. Ward, L Williams, M. L. [M. in D.] Ward, H. W. Wllllams, R. E. Wardle, R. N. Willis, C. B. Ware, 5. M. Willis, J. R. L. Warnc, J. Wilson, A. B. 23

Wilson, A. M. [D.S.O.; M. in D.] Woods, J. G. Wilson, B. D. Woods, L. S. Wilson, G. H. A. [M.B.E.] Woods, R. G. Wilson, H. W. [M.C.] Woollard, H. H. [French War C.; M. in D.] Wilson, P. J. [M.S.M] Worch. D. C. Wilson, R. C. Wray, F. W. [C.M.G.] Wilson. T. H. \V. Hcly [M.M.] Wright, A. Wllson, W. G. [M.C.] W'right, F. E. Wilson, W. R. L. Rodgers Wright, F. S. Wlnter, E. A. erght, H. R. Winterbotham, L. P. erght, L. A. Withington, R. C, Wynne, T. G. Woinarski, V. J. E. Z. Yencken, E. D. Wood, A. H. O’Hara Yencken, J. S. Wood. C. S. Youlden, J. E. Wood, 0. Young, J. W. Wood, H. V. Young, J. W. Wood. P. O'Hara. [.\1. in D.] Young, R. A. Wood, W. A. Young, R. P. Woodgate, A. R. Young, S. Woodruff, H. A. Yuille, A. N. Woods, A. S. Yuille, M. Woods, J3. Rosse Yule, J. Sandison Woods, E. W. B. [M.C.] Yule, J. Smythe [M.C.] Woods, F. G.

Munitions Work.

Ebc following have unbertaken Munitions work, or the like. in tbe mutteo Ringbom.

Baird, A. DIasson, J. I. O. [1‘1.B.E.] Bell, M. NIenkens, C. Brown, E. B. Bloom. M. S. Canister, C. P. Parker, P. a’M. Cerutty, L. J. Parkin, A. F. Clark, H. C. Rivett, A. C. D. Craig, R. S Rosenblum, A. A. Cumming, A. C. Rosenhain, W. Daley, F. S. Ross, C. N. Eltham, E. P. Sissons, A. IT. S. Grey, W. A. Steele, B. D. Holmes, W. M. Straw, K. B. Jenkins, B. L. Stubbs, C. W. 0. Jewell, W. R. Sutton, T. C. Leslie, P. R. Urquhart, H. C. McAulay, A. L. \Valtham, J. B. MacDonald, G. W. Walpole, G. S. McNeil, F. D. Wilsmorc, N. T. M. Manin. F. C. Zwar, B. T.

PH OTC) GRAPH S of, those N181Y11)€1"S of the University who gave their lives, together With a brief outline of their academic and Inilitary careers.

25

H. C. ROSS was educated at Bailarat College, and was twice Dux of the school. He began his medical course at the University in 1913, enlisted in September, 1914, and left as a sergeant in the 24th , with which he served on . He was evacuated for illness, and died and was buried at sea, 8th N0Vc111hcr, 1915.

R. H. MACONOCHIE GIBBS, M.C., was the eldest son of the late Major R‘ H. Gibbs, of Colac. lie was educated at (‘aulfield Grammar School. At the University he won his football blue. He enlisted in the fourth year of his medical course, and sailed in May, 1915, with the 6th Battalion. He was killed in action at Fromeiles on 19th July, 1916, For leading his men forward and steadying‘ them under heavy fire he was awarded the Military Cross.

ROBERT L. C. BLACK enlisted after the 1915 examinations in De- cember, and embarked on 28th July. 1916. He served in France as Corporal 01 Scouts, B C032, 7th Battalion, was once wounded, and was killed 011 9th August, 1918, at Hurleville.

DALLAS SUTHERLAND enlisted in August, 1915. He was sent to France as a machine-gunner 111 the 15th Aust. Machine Gun Co. He was a volunteer 111 a successful raiding party, but during the return to the British lines he was struck by a shell whilst attending to a wounded comrade. He died 011 the 19th August, 1916.

EDGAR CHARLES HOLMES was educated at the Sandford State School, and later graduated as Bachelor of Arts from the Teachers' Training College, where he won the Gladman Prize. He enlisted from the High School at Essendon in 1916, after having previously been twice refused. He was killed at Fleurbaix 011 19th July, 1916. He was then a lanco— corporal.

W. W. RAW was the 5011 of Mr. John T. Raw, late head—master of Central State School. Richmond. He gained a scholarship to \\’eslcy College, and went to the University in 1915. He enlisted in the 6th Rein, forcements of the 7th Battalion, and sailed for Egypt October, 1915. Later he was transferred to the 59th Battalion, was moved to France, and was killed at Fromelles 19th July, 1916.

GEORGE FERGUSON LEGGE was educated at the Melbourne Gram, mar School, and enlisted from the Engineering School of the Melbourne University. During the last battle in which the Australian Infantry were engaged in France he was wounded while serving with a Lewis gun team in the first line, and was afterwards killed while bandaging another man on 4th October, 1918.

ROBERT BRUCE LISTON was educated at Queen’s College, Mary- borough, and the Melbourne High School. He entered the Training College in 1912 with exhibitions, and in 1915 was engaged in scientific research. He was killed at Bullecourt 11th April, 1917. His degree of B.Sc, was con- ferred after his death.

26

(.Wsy , . \ R. B. Liston.

THOMAS MARCH HALL was the eldest son of the late Dr. T. S. Hall. of Melbourne Knivorsity. He went to the l'niversity from Scotch College in 1911. In June, 1915. he enlisted. and left Australia in November, 1915. He was promoted sergeant after the battle of Fleurhaix, 1916, and was killed 011 28th September. 1917, near Polygon \Vood. \Vhilc at the l'niversity he was a keen menlher of the Boat (1111).

E. R. WHITTERON was educated at the Geclone Grammar School, and was in the cricket and football teams and the crew. He entered the 1‘11i\'e1'sit_\' 111 1914, and enlisted in Septt-mher 01 that year. He was severely wounded on Gallipoli. He refused an opportunity to return home 011 fur» loug'h, as he felt men were so urgently needed at the front. 011 8th August. 1915, he was killed in action.

ROY W. McINDOE attended the Tom'ongaeroad School. Mah'em, where he won the Knox Gold Medal and {0111' scholarships. In 1914 he came to the L'niversit) from Scotch College, and enlisted at the beginning of the war. He did hospital work on Gallipoli and on ships between Egypt and Gallipoli. He died of pneumonia at Alexandria 16th Dccmnher, 1915, aged twenty.

FRANCIS CAREY CLEMENTS came to the ['11ivm'sity from .\Iel— hourne Grammar School in 1910, and took up the Electrical Engineering C0111'se. He won his half-hlue in boxing. He went to England in 1914 to complete his engineering training. He enlisted as soon as war broke out. and got his commission in the Royal Engineers. He was wounded at Arras 011 6th January, 1917, and died five days later.

RONALD ARMSTRONG REID came to Ormond College after six years at Geelong College. He enlisted in August, 1915, and was a lance- rorporai. 15th Battalion, 4th ”irigade. when he was killed 011 8th August, 1916, at Poziei'es,

JOHN HOWARD CHERRY was staE—sergcant major for 3rd Military District 111 the early days of the war. He sailed from Australia with the 59th Battalion in August, 1916‘ He was recommended for the D.C.M. at Bulleeourt in May, 1917. 111 1918 he was Intelligence Otfiee1‘,and was killed at Mm'lancourt 4th July, 1918.

JOHN GARDINER attended the t‘aulheid Grammar School. He was a medical student, and enlisted in May, 1915, in the A.M.C., After two voyages on the Kanowna he transferred to the Artillery. 111 1917 he won the .\1.C. He was killed in action near St. Quentin 1st September. 1918.

CYRIL ROBERT SEELENMEYER, M.C., was the son of Dr. A. F. Seelenmeyer. of Brighton. He entered the University in 1907 from the Melbourne Grammar School. He took his degree of B.\'.Se. with the AgriculturalSociety’s silvermedaLand gained his blue for football. His commission as captain in the A11". was dated 7th October, 1914. He was mentioned in despatches and awarded the Military (Toss. 111 1918 he was promoted major, and died of wounds in France 011 8th August, 1918.

28

A. G. HAMMOND came to the University in 1913 with an exhibition from {iH‘ Melbourne High School. He got his 13.56. in August, 1915. Enlisting in the 2nd Divisional Field Artillery in September. 1915, he served with the A.I.F. in France. Died of wounds at St. Omer 1st August, 1917.

WALTER FINLAY enlisted 10th August, 1914, and sailed in October with the 8111 Battalion. He was in the landing7 at Gallipoli, and also in the evacuauon. 111 January, 1916,11e joined the , and went to help quash the Senussi rising. In March, 1917, the Camel Corps was hastily transferred to Palestine. After the battle of Gaza 011 19th April, 1917, Finlay was reported missing, and later was officially reported killed.

GEORGE E. BROUGHTON came to Trinity College from Hamilton College in 1893. He was in the Fight in 1894, 1896, and 1897. 111 1897 he got his 1.1..31. degree. He enlisted from (0101111116 in April, 1916,2111d sailed in June as. driver in the 3rd Divisional Ammunition Column. He died of pneumonia 011 2nd February, 1917.

CHARLES CLAPHAM GREGORY was the son of the late J. “B. Gregory, 1,1..M,, some time lecturer at the Melbourne University. He came from Haileybury College. took his LLB. degree, and was called to the Bar 111 July, 1915, he enlisted, and sailed with the 15th Infantry Bri— gade. Afterwards he was attached to the machine gun section of the 59th Battalion. He served in Egypt and in France, and was killed in action at Fleurhaix on 191h July, 1916.

G. P. MERZ got his medical degree just atter the outbreak of war. After three months at Point Cook he went to Mesopotamia as an aviator, at the request of the Indian Government. On the 30th July, 1915, he was forced to descend in the desert, where he and his companion were attacked by a wild tribe of Arabs. After a running fight for two miles they were both oxcrpowered and killed.

F S. BOND did the first half of his medical course at the Melbourne University, and finished it in London, where he became M.R.C.S. and LRCP. He enlisted from Brutheii as captain in the A.A.M.C_ He served in Gailipoli and Egypt. was invalided home to Australia, and died in April. 1915. He had two sons serving in France and one on H.M .\.5. Australia.

NORMAN H. SADLER was the son of the late \Viiiiam Sadler, con- tractor, of Gcclong. He was a dental student. He left Australia in 1915 as a stretcher—bearer with the 6th Field Ambulance. He served on Gallipoii, and afterwards with the 12th Field Ambulance in Franee, and was killed at Pozieres, August, 1916.

L. P. BASTO was an engineering student. He received a commission as lieutenant in the Permanent Forces, hut enlisted as a sergeant in the 6th Battalion. He fell in action at the landing on Galiipoli in April. 1915.

A. G. Hammond. Cir"

31

W. A. J. BUCKLAND enlisted in the Engineers in January. 1916. He reached France in Xm’enther in a machine gun section. Later he was Chosen for the :\.l’.(‘. He was liying near Villers—Hrettonetix on 8th May. 1918. at dawn. when he was attacked hy German triplanes. He kept his gun going till the 121st 1m.ssihlc mement, and was killed by the fall of his machine.

H. R. H. BUTLER was a member of the Victorian Architectural Stu (h-nts' Society. He enlisted at the age of 18. He left Australia as a ser» geant in Artillery Ix‘einforcements, and was transferred to the Air horce, where he (ihtained his commission and wings. After 21» years of service he was killed in an aeroplane accident in Scotland in June, 1918.

ROBERT MACGREGOR GILLESPIE Came to the L‘nivet‘sity from geotch College. and won his double blue for tennis and rowing. In 1912 he went to Dookie Agricultural t'oHegmwvht-z‘e he came equal first in the tinal honour list. In 1913 he got his B..~\.Se. degree, and was appointed experi— inentalist in the Department of .\grivnlturc. He enlisted in August, 1914, and was killed at the landing on (iallipoli 25th April, 1915.

J. J. NICHOLAS left Australia as captain attaChed t0 the 1st Light Horse Jiiehi Ambulance in October, 1914. He served at Gallipoli, and was appointed major and transferred to the 3rd Field Ambulance in jaiiuai‘)‘, 1916. \\hile in France he was appointed Director of Australian Divisional Medical Fei‘x‘ices. Ne hecame lieutenant—colonel in the 5th I’ield Ambu- lance, and was killed in action in Belgium on 20th Septeniher, 1917.

PAUL DALTON ANNEAR took his degree of LLB. in 1913. He was previously educated at (‘amphell Creek State School and Castlemaine Grammar School. lie enlisted soon after” the outbreak of war, and was killed in action in the attack on Hill 60 011 28th August. 1915,

JOHN MAURICE ORR COLAHAN was the second son of Surgeon— Major—General Colahan, and entered the University from the Christian Brothers’ College as a law student. He enlisted before his course was con]- illeted, and left Australia in 1916. 111 Jingland he successfully passed through the ()flicers’ School, but instead of taking promotion transferred from infantry t0 artillery. lie was killed in action in France.

GEOFFREY MOLYNEUX OGDEN came to the University from the \\’illiamstown Grammar School and Melbourne Grammar School. He was doing his law course when he enlisted. He joined the 38th Battalion as a signaller. He was killed at Messines Ridge 011 8th June, 1917. his twenty- lirst hiithday,

A. V. HONMAN was the son of Colowel Ilonmaii, Of Melbourne. He completed his medical course in 1912 131.11., '1‘..Sc.), and when war broke out at once enlisted, He embarked as a captain with the 211d Field Ambulance in October, 1914. He took part in the landing on Gallipoli, had a (listin— guished career in Egypt and France, and. while acting as regimental snr- geon tn the 37th Battalion, was killed in action 20th May, 1917.

R W. A. J. Buc Cw“)

JOSEPH RUPERT BALFE was a fifth year medical student in 1914. He enlisted immediately on the outbreak 01' war. He sailed with the 6th Battalion, and got his first lieutenaney in Egypt. Ile landed on Gallipoli, 25th April, 1915, and fell near Maidos the foliowing day,

A. R. FOX entered Ormond College in 1914, and completed his medical course, enlisting as Captain in the A.A.1\1.C. in May, 1917. He. sailed in August. and was with the 2nd Anzac Mounted , France, the 53rd British General Hospital. and the 2nd .—\.G.Il., Boulogne, He went into hospitai iii in April, 1918, was invalided home, and died on the voyage, 24th August, 1918.

CLARENCE EDWARD BOWEN Obtained the 1%.A. and LL)“. (ie- erees, and was an exhihitioner 0f the l'niversity. He was admitted to the Bar in 1911. He enlisted (hiringr the first week of the war; was wounded at the landing at Gallipoli; served in France, and won his commission on the battlefield. After serving three years and eight months he was killed at \‘illei'sJKrettoneux on 4th April, 1918.

L. E. W. ROBERTS came to the I'niversity from (ieelonyz College. He volunteered in 1915, when a 4th year medical student. but was sent hack to finish his course. After his tinal examinations he left as a captain in the A.A.M.C. After working for some months in lingland and at Rotten he was appointed medical ottieer to the 30th Kattalion. He (lied of wounds on 2nd September, 1918.

D. G. DUFFY was a student of Riverview College, Sydney, and Trinity College. ’10 did a law course, and was admitted to the bar of Victoria and of New South \\'a1es, He enlisted in December, 1915, and embarked in May, 1916, as a lieutenant in the infantry. lie transferred to the Cycle Corps, but when this was disbanded he rejoined the infantry, He was killed in November, 1916.

H. VASEY WOOD came to the University from South Melbourne College. He obtained the degrees of 14.1).5. and T).D.Se, He enlisted in July, 1915, receiving his commission the following year. He left Australia in August, 1916; served in the Somme area with the 29th Battalion, was pronmted lieutenant. and was killed in action on 2nd March, 1917.

R. C. CROCKER was educated at Scotch L‘oliege. In 1913 he. was admitted to the Bar. 110 enlisted 0n the outbreak of war in the D,A.‘C. He was killed in action, while Observation officer, at Cape Helles in July, 1915.

F. M. McCUTCHAN was educated at \\'es1cy College, and entered Queen’s College. He completed his Electrical litigineering course in 1915 and at once enlisted. He was killed in action in France. His degree was conferred posthumously.

34

Balfc.

\ F. M. McCutchan.‘ ,’

ALEC. J. MACGIBBON was educated at Scotch College and St. Thomas’ Grammar School. He began his Medical course in 1914. but enlisted on the outbreak 0.’ war. lie left with the first contingent in the 4th Battery :\.F._-\., and gained his Iirst stripe before reaching Egypt. He was at the landing on Galiipoli, and fell on 10th june, 1915.

P. B. SEWELL came from Geelong College and gained the degrees of MB. and 11.8. in 1916” He then joined the .-\..\..\I.LX with the rank of captain. lie was sent to France in july, 1917. and was appointed 31.0. to the 50th Battalion. lie was killed on the 24th of April. 1918, while estab— iishing‘ a first aid post.

JAMES MCCRAE HANCOCK Came to the ['nivm'sity from Trinity Grammar School in 1909. He graduated in Laws in 1913, and was admitted to the liar early in 1915. Shortly afterwards he enlisted. Iior some time he was with the adxanee body of Australians across the Suez Canal, and was afterwards transferred to France. on the 4th August, 1916, he was sent out on a task on the ridge beyond I‘oziei'es, from which he never returned. He was reported missing, and later killed

ERIC WINFIELD CONNELLY was educated at Carlton College. He did a Law course at the University. He sailed with the 7th Battalion, and had attained the rank of major when he was killed in November. 191? He received the 11.5.0.

CLIVE EMMERSON CONNELLY was educated at Carlton College and did a Law course at the University. He sailed with the 14th Battalion and was a captain at the time of his death, August. 1915.

JOHN FRANCIS HUON TOVELL entered the University in 1909 from Brighton Grammar School, and did the Law course. He was doing his Articles when he enlisted at the very outbreak of war. He was with the 6th Battalion. He was killed in the landingr at Gallipoli 0n the 25th of April, 1915.

HAROLD OSCAR TEAGUE was at Brighton Grammar School before coming on to the L‘niverrity. In 1902 he took the degrees of MJL and 13.5. ‘11 May, 1915, he joined the .~\..\.M.L‘. with the rank of captain. antl went overseas immediately afterwards. He was kill( (1 in action in France on 14th February, 1917. He i1?(i been mentioned in despatches.

BRIAN MORE O’SULLIVAN came to the University from Brighton Grammar School, and entered on the Medical course. He enlisted and went overseas early in the war, hiit \‘as sent hack to continue his course. How- ever, after about another year‘s work he again managed to get away with the All“, and was sent to 171'ance as captain in command of a trench mortar battery. He was killed on 23rd August, 1918.

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W. S. WILKINSON enlisttd at Hanging Roek. He embarked in February, 1916, and was killed in August of the same gear.

M. G. PATTEN.—4Ormond College, 1906. Enlisted as lieutenant in Northtimbcrland Fusiliers, February, 1915; went to France July, 1915; wounded in bomb accident, and in hospital in England After Somme battle appointed captain, and served as bomb officer aml intelligence officer; com- pany commander August, 1917: awarded MrC. July, 1917; killed in action April, 1918.

W. A. LECKIE.—Ormond College. 1911. Enlisted on the outbreak of war. and left with the First Division of the A11“. in 1914. Subsequently transferred to 90th Field C0. Engineers (British),with ranknf lieutenant; was seven months in the trenches in France and Belgium, at Annentiercs, Ypres, and Loos. He was twice wonndtd, and died of wounds on 25th Fthllial). 1916.

J. H. MIRAMS came to the L'niversity from the "lli'ighton Grammar School. He enlisted in 1914 in the middle of his Engineering course. He saiicd with the Iirst contingent of .\iisti‘ahan litigineers, and won the Military Cross on Gallipoli. He attained the rank of major. and was. killed in action in France, August. 1916.

A. J. ROBERTSON.-—Ormonti College, 1905. On the outbreak of war, though no position was available in Enginters, he carried out a military survey near Perth, and later gained his lieutenancy. After a few weeks in Egypt with the 6th Reinforcements, 11th Battalion, he went to Gallipoli. In August. 1915. while holding a captured trench and repelling a Turkish counter attack, he was shot. and expired immediately. i

A. N. HYETT.'()1’111011(1 College,1907. He enlisted in 38th Battalion and received his commission in France early in 1917. At one time he was half buried by a shell splash, but got safeh' out of it. He was killed in action 11‘. June, 1917, while 011 special duty.

J. C. D. REID.—()rmond College, 1898. Before the war he was elm ployed in the Government Survey Department at Canberra. He enlisted, and was a lieutenant in 5th Tunnelling (0., 4th Pioneer Battalion. For particularly conspicuous work ht- was awarded the MI. He died of wounds june, 1917.

M. B. HIGGINS.—-Oi'inond College, 1905. He enlisted as a private in 8th L.H., October, 1914. He was lieutenant aiidactinsz captain on Gallipoli, and adiutant at \\'a]kcr's Ridge. He was in command of the 30 men finally left on the ridge, at the evacuation. He was in all the Egyptian fighting in 1916, and led the charge at Romani, lle was killed at E1 Magdahha 23rd December, 1916, while advancing in the front line. _.‘

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H. M. ROBERTSHAW.—Ormon(l College. 1907. He enlisted at the outbreak of the war, and sailed as a corporal in the 6th Battalion, lst Divi- sion A.I.F.. in October, 1914. He was posted as missing: on (iallipoli. June, 1915, but subsequently reported as having been killed at the landing;r on 25th April, 1915.

E. R. WELCH.—At Ormond College, 1910. where he (lid the Medical course. He received an appointment as captain in the R..—\.M.('., and undeiu went a short course of trainingy at Iiasthourne, England. He was drafted into the English army and sened in various divisions. I'ltiniately he was attached to 15th Durham Light Infantry, and fell in action at l‘ilers, France. September, 1916, while attending wounded.

K. T. STEPHEN.—Ornion(l College. 1905. He left .\nsti‘alia in No— vember, 1915, and trained for his commission in the R.li.:\. till September. 1916, when he left for France. He also served with Trench Mortar Cm: He was awarded the 11.0. in January, 1918, and promoted captain in March. 1918. He was on continuous service to the (lay of his death on 22nd April, 1918, when he died of wounds.

J. W‘. A. AGNEW.—;\t UrmOnd College, 1914. He enlisted in the .~\.A.M.C., and was posted to the 12th Field Ambulance. He served in Egypt till ~lune. 1916, when he was transferred to France, and was stretcher- bearing at I’ozieres. lle (lied 0f wonntls in l’rance in September, 19.17.

D. V. K. ANDERSON—At Ormontl College,1911. He enlisted in the A.A.M.C.. and was allotted to the 12th Field Ambulance. lie served in Iigypt till June. 1916, when his unit was transferred to France. He was stretcher-hearer at Pozieres, and was awarded the Military Medal in Sep— tember, 1917. lie died of wounds in the chest and abdomen at No. 10 C.C.S.

K. W. HOLMES was educated at Caulfield Gtannnar School, and later at the Uni\'ersit_\',where, after a brilliant L‘ai'ecr. he graduated in Engineer- ing in 1911. In 1915 he enlisted in the Iingincers as a sappei', anti i'ecei‘vcu his commission in Iigypt. He went to Iii'anee in 1916, and joined the l"lyin;Y Corps in 1917. He was brought down in the enemy lines after a tight against heavy odds, and died while a prisoner of war.

K. J. BARRETT.-Oi'mond (‘ollcge 1910. He was with the FA. in Egypt, and was later lieutenant in 2nd Royal Fusiliers, 29th Division, at Gallipoli. He was invalided t0 Ianlaml with enterie and gunshot wound in shoulder. Later he was promoted captain 4th lattalion Royal Fusiliers. He was mentioned in (lespatehes three times for "distinguished and gallant services and devotion to duty,” He died in hospital of wounds received in action, April, 1917.

JOHN MELVIN.—Ii(lnt‘atetl at Canlfiehl Grammar School anrl Ormond College, which he entered in 1906. He (lid a course in ("ivil Engi. neering, taking the degree of IK.(‘.IC. lle enlisted at the outbreak of war, leaving Australia in 5th Battalion, . .r\.I.I-‘. He was reported missing at Gallipoli, but afterwards reported as killed at the landing on 25th April, 1915.

40

\‘ H. M. Robertshaw. _

G. H. RICHARDSON entered Ormond College 1909. He enlisted at the outbreak of war. leaving Australia in 6th Battalion, 1st Division, A.I.F., in October, 1914. He was posted as missing on Gallipoli in June, 1915, but was subsequently reported killed on 12th July, 1915.

C. M. WEBB.—]idueu1ed at Gcelong College, and entered Ormond College 1916. After doing two years’ medicine he enlisted i1129th Battery. 8th Field Artillery . He left Australia February. 1917,an(l went to France in August. On 19th September, 1917.whi1e he and six others were asleep in a dugout, a she]! landed in the middle of it, and he (lied soon after from woands received.

G. I'I‘INK.—At Ormond College. 1903. He enlisted early in the war : in the 15th Battalion, and was killed in action on Gallipoli.

C. A. STEWART entered Urmond College in 1909, and there did the Medical course, taking the degrees of M.1’).. 13.3. Ile enlisted in the A.A. MAT. with the rank of captain, and was afterwards promoted major in the 1st Field Ambulance. He was killed in action in France on 28th April, 1918.

G. S. ELLIOTT entered Ormond College in 1905, and was a prominent I‘niversity footballer. He enlisted as captain in the .—\._—\.M,C., and was 11.0. to the 56th Battalion, France. He was awarded the ME. for work (lone at Bullecom't, and was mentioned in despatches. He was killed in action in France 26th September, 1917.

S. J. CAMPBELL entered Ormond College in 1905, and when war broke out enlisted as captain in the .»\..\.M.C. He was 31.0. to the 8th Light Horse, and was killed by a shell while bathing at Gallipoli.

A. DEANS was educated at Queen's College, .\Iaryborough. and Scotch College. He did a brilliant school course, and entered Oi'nlond in 1909. He was editor of the M.U.M., and president of the S.R.C. in 1915. After enlistment he was a sergeant in the artillery, and was killed in action In France on lst June, 1917.

M. N. MACKAY entered ()rmond College 1907. Jinlisted early in the war, and attained rank of major in 22nd Battalion, .\.].l’. He spent. four months at Anzac, and afterwards went to France, where he was killed on :he Somme. He was mentioned in Sir D. Haig's despatches.

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G. W. L. BANKS.—Let't \\'esley College in 1914, and entered Queen’s College the. following year. After doing one year of the Medical course he enlisted. and died of wounds in the lst Australian General Hospital, at Ronen, France, on 21st November, 1916, aged 20 years.

R. MCC. ABERNETHY.——1£dueated at \\'es1ey College, where he was both Senior Prefect and captain of the boats. Entered Queen’s College 1913. He passed 1st year Law 1913 and 2nd year 1914. He took a promi nent part in intercollegiate and University rowing. Ne enlisted early in 1915 in the artillery, and was killed in action in France after over three years' service. 011 22nd May, 1918.

L. M. CAYGILL.—1§dueated at Shepparton Agricultural High School. He entered Queen’s College 1915, and passed 1st year Engineering with honours the same year. He enlisted immediately afterwards, and was killed in action in France early in 1918.

S. ETTINGOVE.—E(1ucated at \\’es1ey College. He entered Queen’s College 1917, passed first year Law, and enlisted at the beginning of the. followingr year, \\'hi1e still in camp he was fatally injured in a collision between a motor—eyele and a tramear, and died in No. 11 A.C3.H., Canlfield. Melbourne, on 20th May, 1918.

W. R. KEAST. Educated at \Yesley College. He entered Queen’s College 1911, and after a most successful University career he took the degree of H.111? in 1914. He enlisted on the outbreak of war, and left with the lst Division of the ALF. in October, 1914, taking part in the landing at Callipoli. He was later transferred to the Royal Flying Corps, and “'3: killed in action while singly engaging three enemy planes.

E. J. KERR—Educated at \\"esley College, taking a prominent part in the life of the school. being captain of the cricket team in 1909. He began his Medical (‘otn‘se in 1910, entering Queen’s College. He too]: a keen interest and a successful part in the sporting life of the University, Imme- diately on taking the degrees of M.B., B.S., he joined the AA.M.C., and was posted to a Pioneer Battalion in France. He was killed in action late in 1917.

FRANK G. KELLAWAY.—Edueated at \Vcsley College, where he had a distinguished scholastic career. He entered Queen’s College in 1915.and during this year r116 was an enthusiastic member of the Melbourne Univer- sity Rifles. He passed lst year Law, enlisting late in 1915, after special exams. After some time as a corporal in the ALF. he was promoted to commissioned rank, and was awarded the Military Cross before he was killed in action in 1917.

A. S. WILLIAMS. Educated at the Perth High School. He then proceeded with Arqhitectnre, and after obtaining his certificate as a sur- veyor came to Melbourne. He passed all his examinations at this Univer- sity successfully, and enlisted in December, 1914, as a sapper. It was at the Gallipoli landing, being,r employed on engineering work. He was wounded, and invalided to Malta, returning to the war zone on his recovery. He was promoted 2nd lieutenant, and later lieutenant. He fell at the battle of Pozieres on 22nd July while preparing plans {01' trenches.

44

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G. C. M. MATHISON.—<(‘0mplete(i his Medical course at Queen‘s College in 1906, obtaining: brilliant final honours, and was appointed Senior Resident Officer at Melbourne Hospital. In 1907 the was appointed Univer- sity Scholar in Physiology, and Medical Tutor at Ormond College. In 1908 he was Demonstrator in St, Mary's Hospital, London. In 1910 he was awarded the first Beit fellowship, and in 1911 took degree of MI). He was director of Pathology, Melbourne Hospital. in 1913. He enlisted at the outbreak of war in 1914, and was killed in action at Gallipoli on 8th May, 1915.

F. M. STIRLING.—Etlueated at \Vesley College, where he was promi- nent both in the scholastic and athletic branches of school life. He entered Queen’s College in 1915, and, after one term at the University, enlisted in May, 1915, and went to Gallipoli. After some time there he was invalided home, but later re»(-nlisted, and was killed in action in France.

E. C. THOMAS.~—Educated at \Vesley College. He entered Queen's College in 1913. commencing the Arts course. This he completed in 1915. and at once enlisted, He was killed in action, and the degree of 13..-\. was conferred posthumously. '

E. E. JENKINS began his Arts course in 1911 at Queens College, He enlisted 0n the outbreak of war in 1914, and was on service at Gallipoli and in France. He reached commissioned rank, and was killed in action during 1916.

G. J. FEATONBY passed lst year Arts in 1897 at Queens College, but then had to give up his course. He enlisted at the outbreak of war in 1914, and saw service on Gallipoli, where he was killed in action.

A. G. N. WALL.—Edueated at \Vesley College, and while still at sehoal he distinguished himseIf by his talent for poetry. He entered Queen’s College in 1916 to do 1st ytar Law. After sitting for special early exams. he joined the Royal Flying Corps, and was killed in a ’1)lane disaster in England. Both his letters and his poems have been published as “Letters" and "Songs of an Airman.”

ALAN McKAY.—A{ter a brilliant course at Scotch College he en— tered the. University for the degree of 12.31.12, He held a commission in the M.U.1'\’. Enlisting in August, 1915, he was quickly promoted sergeant. A fter serving in Egypt he was sent to France, and on a call being sent out for volunteers for the machine-gun section he forfeited his stripes and joined the company. He was killed in action just after .his twenty—first birthday.

EDWARD FREDERICK ROBERT BAGE.v—I7.dueate(1 at Melbourne Grammar School 1900-1904. 110 entered Trinity College 1905, and took the degree of B.C.1C. in 1910. He was hon. see. S.R.C. in its early days, and rowed in Trinity Iiight. 111 1911 he joined Mawson's Antarctic Expedition as astronomer, assistant magnetician, and recorder of tides. 116 was awarded the. King’s 1’01ar Medal. He enlisted in 1914 in lst Division of A.1.F. and took part in the landing at Gallipoli on 25th April, 1915. 116 reached the rank of captain in 3rd Fiehl Company of Engineers. He was killed in action on 7th May, 1915.

46

G. J Featonby

E. F. R. Bage.

47

RANDOLF WILLIAM CRESWELL.—Educated at Melbourne Grammar School. Entered Trinity College 1908, where he did the Engineer- ing course. \Yas editor of the “1“1eut‘-(le—Lys” in 1910. He Obtained his first war service as an officer at Rahaul. In 1915 he returned to Australia and enlisted in 29bh Battalion A11“, In Egypt he joined the Imperial Camel Corps, and was later decorated with the Order of the \Vhite Eagle of Serbia. He was also twice mentioned in (lespatches, and was recom- mended for the D.S.O. He was commander of 11th Company, 3rd (Anzac) Battalion, Imperial Camel Brigade, with the rank of captain. He was killed in action in Palestine 0n 6t-h November. 1917,

WARREN HARWARD BROWN.—‘Born on 29th January, 1898, and educated at the Guildford Grammar School (\V.A.) from 190971915. He resided in Trinity College (hiring the greater part of 1916, when he Com- ntenced the Law course. He enlisted in the artillery in September, 1916, and joined the 8th Brigade of Artillery, 3rd Division, in Ii‘i‘anee. He was killed in action near Antiens on 28th April, 1918, at the age of 20 years.

DERWAS GORING CUMMING was educated at Christian Brothers’ College, Perth, and was champion athlete of the college. lirom there he came to Trinity College. lle enlisted in September, 1914, as driver, and served in Gallipoli, and afterwards in ligypt, where he obtained a eommis sion in the 48th Battalion. He obtained the 1\I.C. at Messines, and a bar to it at Albert in April, 1918. Ile had reached tht rank of captain, when he was killed at \‘iilers Bretonnenx, 3rd May, 1918, at the age of 27.

E. L. GIBLIN was a resident student of Trinity College during his Medical course, He afterwards specialised in children’s diseases at the Alexandra Hospital, London. ()11 the outbreak of war he enlisted in the R.A.M.C., and was killed in action at Loos on 28th September, 1914.

GEORGE RISDON GRIMWADE enlisted in 1915 while in his thitd year Medicine. He was educated at Melbourne Grammar School and Trinity College. He embarked in June, 1915, in the 6th Field Ambulance, proceeding to Iiy'ypt, and later to Gallipoli, where he was killed on 23rd September, 1915.

E. N. HODGES entered Trinity College, and completed the Law course, being admitted to the Bar in 1911. He enlisted early in the war, and died of pneumonia while on active service.

H. H. MATTHEWS was educated at Melbourne Grammar School and Trinity College, where he passed his lirst year Law. In 1915 he enlisted in the field artillery at the age of 19. (7)11 arriving in l’ranee in 1916 he joined his brothers in the machine gun section. On 4th July he and one of his blothei's were. killed by a shell at Arnientiel'es.

-C. ROY LISTER was educated at Hawthorn College and Trinity Col- lege, where he graduated 31.13., B.S., with honours, in 1914. From 1915—17 he filled the position of Vice-warden of Trinity and Senior Medical Tutor. He obtained degree of 11.5.. and was also Stewart Lecturer in Anatomy and Clinical Assistant at Melbourne Hospital. He went on transport duty to Egypt at the end of 1915, returning in March, 1916. He left Australia again early in 1918 for France, and was invalided to London, where he died of influenza.

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49

H. O. MOULE was educated at Brighton Grammar School. He left as head of the school and entered Trinity College to do Law. In August, 1914, he enlisted in the 4th Light Horse. and went to lidypt. He was wounded, but on his recovery returned to the lines, where he was killed on 6th August, 1915.

A. GUY MILLER wasa resident at Trinity College during his Medical course at the University. After completing,r his course he did a special course for eye work at Oxford, He joined the RH-\.M.C_ in one of the Middlescx , and was killed in France early in the war.

PHILIP E. F. SCHULER was the only son of Mr. G. F. ll. Schiller, editor of the “Age.” He was educated at Melbourne Grammar and Trinity College,after which he was associated with the “Age.” He was on active service about a year, attached to 3rd Division Train. He was a brilliant war correspondent, and the author of " .-\u>ti'alia in Arms." He was killed in action at the age of 28 years.

M. L. WILLIAMS came to Trinity College from the Castlemaine Grammar School. He played in the 'J‘iinity and University football teams and rowed in the Trinity Eight. After C0111pleting his Medical course he was resident at the Melbourne and llentligo Hospitals. lie enlisted with the A.M.C. in 1915, and went abroad as major in the 8th I-‘ield Ambulance, N.SJV. He was killed while colonel in command of the lst Field Ambit lance on 3rd March. 1918.

ARTHUR HOLROYD O'HARA WOODwasaTrinity Collegetnan. representing his college and the University at tennis. lle (lid a Medical course at the University, and left Melbourne in 1915 to join the Royal Flying Corps, He was killed on active service on 4th October, 1918.

T. N. H. STRETCH was a son of the late Dr. Stretch, Bishop of Newcastle. He was educated at Geelong Grammar Scltool,'13riqltt0n Gram- mar School, and Trinity College. He Commenced his Arts course for Theology in 1914, and represented his college in rowing, Cricket, and football. He left Australia with the ALF, in 1914, and when in Egypt transferred to the machine gun corps in the British army. He was awarded the M.C. and Bar, and was killed in France in 1917.

G. B. BAILEY was one of three sons of Mr. G. H. Bailey to enlist. He was a Trinity College man. He was killed by a stray shell while on active service.

J. L. CONNOR was an Ormond College man. He was a sergeant in the 8th Light Horse, and was killed in the charge at \\'alkev’s Ridge, 1915.

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JAMES GORDON McKINLEY was a Canllieltl Grammar School boy He was a prominent athlete. one of four brothers who enlisted, all of them noted for football and swimming, Three of them have been killed in the war, James Gordon McKinley at th‘es in 1915.

J. P. ATKINSON attended Architectural classes at the University. He enlisted in June, 1915, and was at a signalling school in Egypt for settle time. Inter he went to France, serving in the trenches for a year. In 191'.7 he was sent to the signal school at Cassel, gaining assistant instructor's certificate. He was killed on 10th November, after rejoining his battalion.

F. T. PETERSEN.—.-\fter a hrilliant course of two years in Architec— ture he enlisted in the .-\.I.l“., being appointed 2nd lieutenant. Embarki ' in 1917. he proceeded to 1‘ '])t, and later to England, where he spent $01176 time at the Australian Flying Corps Training Depot at \\7en(10\‘er. He returned to Egypt. but was forced to relinquish flying owing to throat trouble. He went with reinforcements to liranee in 1918, being promoted lieutenant, lie was awarded the Military Cross for conspicuous services at Chuigncs in August. Ile was killed at Roselle on 11th September, 1918.

A. H. BLACK was educated at. Devonpot't Grammar School and Latin» ceston Church Grammar School, Tasmania. Ile proceeded to Melbourne L‘nivers~ y as an Engineering stndtnt, anti later enlisted. lie was pro- moted sergeant, and in France was recommended for a commission, but was unfortunately wounded, ()11 returning to his unit he was killed in the attack on Passehendaele on 12th October, 1917.

J. H. MOORE was educated at Cattl’ield Grammar School. On pro— ceeding t0 the University he took subjects in Engineering. He enlisted in 1915, serving on Gallipoli, where he was wounded. He rejoined his unit and proceeded to l’rance. He was recommended for the Military Medal. hut gallantly declined it in favour of a comrade. He was appointed C.S,M. in September, 1916, but was killed at Iilers in November, 1916.

E. C. JOWETT was educated at Melbourne Grammar School. Ile completed his course at the University for B,M.E., which degree was con- ferred posthumously in April, 1917, After leaving Melbourne he went to Trinity College, Cambridge, enlisting w-hen war broke out. He joined the R.EC. as a lieutenant in 1915. Ile was shot down on 8th July, 1916, while pursuing a German ’plane six miles behind the enemy's lines.

J. FAIRBURN FAIRLEY, captain in the .~\.A.M,C.. entered the Uni— versity in 1905. He graduated with first—elass honours in 1909. He was resident surgeon at the Melbourne and Children’s Hospitals, 1910—12. He obtained his MI). and I’.l\’,C.S. Thereafter he held the position of senior house surgeon to St. Peter‘s Hospital for Stone. I'le enlisted the (lay war was declared, and was attached to N0. 11 General Hospital. Invalided t0 lingland, with paratyphoid, he insisted on returning too soon to duty, and died suddenly on 9111 November, 1915.

COLIN R. CAMPBELL was educated at Melbourne Grammar School (where he was a prominent athlete) and Trinity College. He entered the University in 1913 to do an Arts course. Early in the war he went to England, and enlisted in the Highland Light Infantry. He was killed as y. lieutenant in Mesopotamia in 1915.

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KEITH M. LEVI, R.;\.’\I_C.. an Ormond College man, was surgeon to the 2nd Hampshire Regiment 011 Gallipoli, and was killed at Cape Helles 7th August, 1915. He was mentioned in despatches.

A. L. HANCOCK was educated at Cliff College, England. Ile was accepted as a Candidate for the Australian Methodist Church in 1914, and sent to Queen’s College. In 1915 he won a scholarship, and entered in the Arts course. In the course of the year, however, he volunteered and pro ceded to the front, where he was killed in action in 1916.

L. G. BLACKMORE, of New South \\'ales, enlisted in September, 1914. He was wounded on Gallipoli, and was later invalided to England. (In rejoining his unit he obtained his commission as lieutenant. He was killed at Pozicres on 23rd August, 1916.

A. C. FOGARTY was a lieutenant in the 15th Battalion. He was killed in action at Anzac on 29th November, 1915.

PERCY JAMES SIMS entu‘ed the University front the Melbourne High School in 1914 after a brilliant course. He enlisted in 1915, and, after being in France, returned to Iingland and obtained his commission in the :lying Corps. He was killed near Tom'nai on 29/10/18.

B. A. STARLING, after obtaining his BLIIL, was employed in railway construction in the Malay States. He enlisted in Iingland in 1916, and obtained a commission in the infantry. Ile was killed near (iai'relle in March, 1918.

H. R. McKINLEY was at [antherwell (31'a1ntnat' School, and then at Melbourne Grammar School, Ile was one of four brothers who were all prominent athletes and all served in the war, three of them heing killed. He enlisted in May, 1915, and was promoted from 2nd lieutenant to lieutenant He was killed on the Somme in April, 1917.

E. A. WINTER was educated at Melbourne (irammar School, entering the University in 1911. Ile enlisted in 1915, and, after training in England, was given his commission as a lieutenant. Ile was killed on 5th May, 1917. at littllecourt.

(1. UI

J. F. GEAR was a student at the Training College. He enlisted in June. 1915. and was on Gallipoli. Later, in France, he received promotion, finally receiving his commission as lieutenant. In July, 1918, he received the Military Cross. He was killed on 15th October, 1918.

ERNEST R. FAIRLIE was a student of the Trainng College and Melbourne University. \Vhen rhe enlisted he was assistant teacher at the Melbourne High School. He enlisted in 1914, and was killed in 1915.

HORACE CARL HARTON was a ("aullield Grammar boy and a student of Trinity College. He was nearing the end of his Arts course when he enlisted. Ile met his death on the torpedoed troopship Southland off Leninos. He was a member of the :\,:\.M.C.

H. W. HARPER was a lirst—elass DI), and expert adviser to courts martial, Lark Hill. Later he was promoted lieutenant in the infantry, and was killed in action in France October. 1917. He was an Orinond College man.

N. G. GREIG was born in 1891. and received his early education at country schools. Gaining a scholarship, he proceeded to \\iesley College. where lie. matriculated. He became resident master at Caiillield Grainmai‘ School, and later at Scotch College. where he was very popular. He enlisted in 1914 and proceeded to Egypt in 1915, being made a- 2nd lieutenant. He was killed in July, 1915, at Gallipoli. He was mentioned in despatches.

G. G. ANDERSON was an Orinond College man. He took his .\Iedical degree at the Melbourne L'niversity, and became a major in the R.A.M.C. He died at Etaples 4th November, 1918.

J. D. H. HUGHSTON was an Orinond College man, and enlisted in April, 1915, at the end of his Medical course. He went to France, and later to Salonika, with the 67th Field Ambulance. He became major, 68th Field Ambulance, was wounded in August, 1918, and (lied at Salonika September, 1918.

T. A. OGILVIE \\ as an Ormond (‘ollege man. Ile was a lieutenant in the 12th 'Battalion, and died of wounds in I’ranee, November, 1917.

G. G. Anderson.

. {6&5 J. Hughston ,.:7

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F. A. O’HARA came to the University from South Melbourne College and Melbourne High School. He entered Trinity College as an Exhibitioner in 1917. He enlisted in the same year, and was killed 26th October, 1918.

W. ROGERSON attended Scotch College, 1907-09, and did his Medical course at the ['niversity. He enlisted as captain in the A.A,M.C., and was killed in France 27th August, 1918.

G. WOOD was an Ornlond College man He was in the OTC. at Duntmcn, became a lieutenant in the 15th Battalion, and died of wounds in France November, 1917.

J. G. LIMEROCK came to the University after a brilliant course at Scotch t_‘olleg‘e. He enlisted in March, 1915. After being in Egypt only a fortnight he went to Gallipoli, where he was killed at on 9th August, 1915.

N. L. CAMPBELL came up from Geelong Grammar School, and at the University won, among other distinctions, the Shakespeare Society’s prize and the \\"yselaskie Scholarship. He had finished the first two years of his Law course with first—class honours when the war broke out, and he enlisted. lie was killed while with the 5th Royal Scots in August, 1915.

WILFRED N. BEAVER was an Ormond College man. \Vhile Resi- dent Magistrate in the \\'estern Division of Papua he Collected materials for his hook on "L'nexplored New Guinea,” which was published after his death. He was in the 60th Battalion, and died of wounds received at Polygon \\'00(l October, 1917.

A. E. GOLLER came to Ormond College. with a scholarship from Geelong College. In his six years there he obtained a scholarship each year. He took his M.A. degree, and was in the college football eighteen. He was killed in action as Captainrehaplain with the 37th Battalion on 29th September, 1918.

E. H. WHITEHEAD came to the L'niwrsity in 1910 with a fine all- round record from Geelong College. He entered Ormond in 1911, He held a commission in the .—\.I.F., and was killed by shell concussion.

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A. G‘ HINMAN was an Orinond College man. He was a lieutenant in the 16th Battalion. and was killed in action on Gallipoli,

NORMAN J. BULLEN came from the Caulfield Grammar School, and did a Medical course, He gained exhibitions (luring his course, and at the time of his enlistment in 1915 was Senior Resident at the Children's Hospital, Melbourne. He served with the A.:\.M.t‘_ in Egypt and France, and was killed on 16th October, 1917.

R. N. PILLOW came to Ormond College from Geeloni,y College in 1914.211"! enlisted in August, 1915, He saw service in France for 18 months, then transferred to the Flyingr School at Oxford. He came out top of the lists at the end of his course there, and was accidentally killed while coma pleting his training

C. HORDERN.—No particulars obtainable.

H. Hi ROSS was a sergeant in the 6th Battalion. He was a Geelong Grammar boy, and ‘had been teachingY before he enlisted. He was killed at Gaha Tepe on 25th April, 1915.

E. W. DEANE graduated in 1895, after a brilliant Medical course, winning the ‘Reaney Scholarship in Surgery. He became House Surgeon at the Maryborough District Hospital. and went from there to Egypt in May, 1915, with the rank of surgeon-eaptain, He (lied of illness in Egypt.

WILLIAM WESTON HEARNE took his degrees 01' 31.13. and CILB, at the University. He served in the Boer \\'ar. took his Ml). in 1906, and was long connected with the Alfred Hospital. He left in 1914 as major in the 2nd Field Ambulance, and saw service in Egypt, Gallipoli and France. He held the SA. medal, with three Clasps and the D.S.O.. He died in France

W. R. HOGGART, 0f the Trainingr tiollege and University, was Science Master at Melbourne High School and \\'a1‘rnamhool High School. and afterwards was on the staff of the Melbourne Grammar School. He en- listed in 1914. and was killed in 1915. on the (lay of the landing at Cal— lipoli.

60

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61

J. W. C PROFITT was educated at *Geelong High School and the Training College. He enlisted in July. 1915, and was killed in France in November, 1916.

E. E. RODDA was a student at the Training College in 1909. He enlisted in June. 1915, gaining a commission in the officers’ school. He was killed in action at l‘Ozieres on 13th August. 1916.

ERNEST R. SMITH entered the Teachers’ College in 1912 with a Studentship from the Melbourne lligh School, and obtained the Education Diploma. He was head teacher of the State School at Carlisle River, and assistant at Reechworth HAE. School. He enlisted in 1915, and was killetl in August, 1916, shortly after receiving a Military Medal for gallantry.

J. H. FLETCHER was at the Training College in 1912. He enlisted in l’ebruary, 1915. and obtained his commission as captain He was on Gallipoli till the evacuation. Ile saw some of the. worst lighting in l’ranee, and was killed at Monthrehain on 5th October, 1918.

H. L. SWINBURNE was educated at Kyneton Grammar School and the Training College. He enlisted in july, 1915, In 1916 he was made a lieutenant. He was killed at llapaunie after capturing a trench. He was mentioned in despatches.

A. M. LIDDELOW was a student of the Training College. He ob- tained his ILA. degree, and became Assistant Master at the Melbourne High School in 1911. He enlisted in 1914, and was killed on 19th July, 1916, at Pozieres. He had been at the Gallipoli landing, where he was wounded in 1915.

A. J. GLENDINNING entered the Teachers‘College in 1913 with a Studentship from the Melbourne High School. He enlisted at the outbreak of war, and was killed on 3rd March, 1917. He was on Gallipoli, and at the time of 'his death was acting-major.

C. P. CHRISTENSEN was for two years at the Training College. Hr: enlisted in 1915, and was sent to Duntroon. where he gained his commission as 2nd lieutenant. He was promoted to 1st lieutenant in France \\'hen awaiting promotion as captain he was killed 0n :2ch July.

J W C Profitt

C. P. Christensen.

J. S. S. VICKERY was educated at Haileybnry College, where he was a prefect. lle entered the L'niversity in 1914, and enlisted after doing first year Medicme. He joined the 10th Field Ambulance, and was killed at Armentieres while stretcherhearing on 27th February. 1917, at the age of 21. He was a line sport. and very popular amongst his friends.

W. M. OLIVE was educated at Scotch College and Ormond, entering the University in 1910. He completed his Engineering course in 1914, Obtaining the scholarship in Civil Engineering. He enlisted in July, 1915, and sailed in November with the 5th Coy. Field Engineers. He was 011 the Suez Canal, and landed at Marseilles in March. 1916. lie was killed on 23rd April (Easter Sunday), 1916‘

O. G. LEWIS, after a hiilliant course at \\'esley College. and Queen's (,‘olleg'e, enlisted in the 10th l-‘ield Engineers, He transferred to the Flying! (forps in 1917, receiving his commission. He was severely wounded in August. but returned to liranee in February. 1918. Ile was killed on 12th April, 1918.

A. M. LILBURNE was educated at the Ilallai'at Art School and Greni ville College, He was afterwards a lecturer at the Training College He enlisted in 1916, and sailed as a 2nd lieutenant in the 2nd Howitzer Brigade. In 1917 he was wounded, but returned to his unit, and was promoted lieutenant. Ile was awarded the Mk“ for conspicuous gallantry. On 11th July. 1918, he (lied of wounds and sickness in the 3in London Hospital.

F. S. CARSE was educated at Melbourne Grammar School and Trinity College. where he was Ilenry Iierthon scholar. He gained his LLB. in 1908, and practised as a barrister in Melbourne He took a prominent part in politics. He enlisted in 1915 and served on Gallipoli and in France. At the time of his death he was captain in the 46th Battery ;\.I“.t\.

W. E. WARNE-SMITH was educated at \Vesley College and Queen's College. He was in his StCOlHl year Law when he enlisted in 1916, and received his commission in 1917. He was awarded the Military Cross for conspicuous bravery at Herlevill: Wood. He (lied of wounds in September, 1918, at the age of 23.

L. Be PRITCHARD Came to the University with an exhibition from Scotch College. lle took his degree of ]3.:\.Se., and at the time of his enlistment was employed by the Government at the research farm at \Verrihee He enlisted in July, 1915, served in Egypt and France. and was killed at l’Ozieres on 5th August, 1916.

T. WEBSTER was educated at \\'esley College. He did a Dental course at the ['nivtrsity, and completed it about 1900‘ He enlisted in 1914 and embarked with the first contingent He was killed very soon after the landing. on Gallipoli on 27th April, 1915.

64

'- ‘WZE: Warne~S_nlith..

1‘11 1‘: FOREGOING pages contain photographs of only two-thirds of those who were killed. N0 pains were Spared to obtain photographs and particulars, hut in very many cases this was impossible, owing to the difficulty of getting into touch With the relatives. This deficiency is greatly regretted by those responsible for this Inagazine, and they hope that at some future date it may be remedied.

66

LIEUTENANT-GENERAL SIR JOHN MONASH, (1.03111. K.C.Bi., \'.l).. 1mm] Officer Legion D'Honneur (France). Grand Officiex- de l'Ox-dre de la Couronne (Belgium), Croix de Guerre avec deux Palmes (France). (‘roix de Guerra (Belgium). Distinguished Service Medal (America), l).(‘.L. (()xon.). 1.1,.1). (Cantab). LLD. (Melbfl. M.C.E., B.I\.. LLB.

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Major Gen. Sir J. \V. MeCav.

4L. . Brigadier General N, MrNienli. ‘V

Iteutenafitaeeneral fitr 30th monasb.

By C. E. W. BEAN.

HEN the formation of the 4th Australian Infantry Brigade was begun, very shortly after that of the ISt Australian Division, Colonel Monash, who had been acting as Censor, was appointed to command it. He arrived in Egypt with the 4th Brigade at the end of January, 19x5. The 4th Brigade was incorporated with the Brigade and two mounted into the New Zealand and Australian Division; and it was as one of the Brigadiers of that Division that Colonel Monash sailed for Lemnos and Gallipoli. :It was towards dusk on the day of the Landing that the 4th Brigade began to land, and on April 25th and 26th it was mostly pushed- up to the position which till the day of the evacuation was the key of the Anzac position—the head of the main gully up which nearly the whole of our com- munications ran. At the head of the two forks of that valley the 4th Brigade established itself on the first evening as the troops who had landed earlier fell gradually back; and there, until the end of May, this great brigade remained. Pope’s Hill, Quinn‘s Post, and Courtney’s Post all took their names from officers of the 4th Brigade; and the left fork of the all-important gully will carry for all time the name of Monash Valley. The fighting during this first month at Quinn’s Post was more con- tinuous than at any point on the whole Peninsula, and the strain on the commander at the little headquarters, well in sight of every Turkish in that fatal valley, was very great. But the brigade was withdrawn at the begin- ning of June, and when the great night attack which constituted the second offensive at Anzac was launched in August, the 4th Brigade led out as the extreme left-hand column, with its objective on the great hill generally known as 971. In the planning of the details of this march and the attack by which it was followed, the brigadier showed for the first time, so far as most of those who watched with great interest his career were concerned, the wonder— ful care in preparation and lucidity in exposition which marked his handling of the great operations which three years later helped to close the war. \Vhen, through a chance which could not have been foreseen, the night march of the 4th Brigade was held up in the small hours at a time of extreme crisis, Colonel Monash went to the head of the column, and on the spot came to the decision as to the route which brought the brigade out, in the growing light, at the head of Australia Valley in the tangled foothills of the great hill, where the advance ended. Gen. Monash’s brigade, after the evacuation, was allotted to the 4th Australian Division, and came with it to Europe very shortly before the Ist Anzac Corps moved down to the battle of the Somme. At this time the of the 3rd Australian Division were just arriving in England, and Gen. Monash was sent to England to command and train the new division. That remarkable division was his child, and to the end of the war it bore in the clearest fashion the impress of his work. The scheme of its training was extraordinarily interesting, and the value attached by the War Council to the division is shown by the fact that arms were issued to it far before its time, and the most complete equipment ever, till then, allotted to a division 8

70 in England. It came over to France towards the end of 19I6, where Gen. Monash took over the command from Gen. Franks at Armentieres. The division joined the New Zealand Division in the 2nd Anzac Corps. With the New Zealanders and the 4th Australian Division beside it it was launched into the Battle of Messines on June 7th, 1917. In the working out of the details of that battle, the general again exhibited that extreme care through all the intricate details of organisation which always greatly impressed the Higher Command, and gave confidence to the men. Those who worked undet Gen. Monash always knew that the bombs would arrive in time; that the hot meals would reach them at the right hour; that the supply of barbed wire would be greater than they were likely to need; that nothing would fail them which careful forethought could provide—at the exact time and place. Gen. Monash fought his division in the 2nd Anzac Corps through the great battles before Paschendaele; and immediately afterwards, it for the first time joined all its sister divisions of the A.I.F. and formed with them the Australian Corps under command of Gen. Birdwood. In the winter, in the line near Messines, it took its turn in and out of the line with them. During the absence of Gen. Birdwood and Gen. Walker (Ist Division), at one period, Gen. Monash commanded the Australian Corps. When the Germans broke through the 5th Army in the spring the 3rd Division happned to be in rest. It was hurried south at all speed; and on March 26th its leading units began to debouch in front of the enemy in the triangle between the Somme and the Ancre, a few miles east of Amiens. It stopped the German advance upon its front along the line which Gen. Monash had been instructed to take up; and from that day onwards, along with its sister divisions, it began to eat into the German line with that corroding process which culminated a few months later in the stroke which made the climax of the war. At the end of May, Gen. Birdwood was given command of the 5th Army, and Gen. Monash was appointed in his place to the command of the Aus- tralian Corps, with the rank of Lieut.-General. His Chief of Staff, who succeeded Gen. White, was Brig.-Gen. ’1‘. A. Blaney. A month later the new commander attempted his first operation in the attack on the village of Hamel, which had been in German hands since the beginning of April. This attack was planned with the same care as Messines. It was a big battle in minia- ture. It involved an experiment with tanks. It was a complete success. It became a model attack, printed in pamphlet form for the rest of the army to study. And when on August 8th the Australian and Canadian Corps, with British and French on their flanks, were launched side by side in the offensive which set the limit to the war, the system used at Hamel was made the model of the great operation. That day was probably Gen. Monash’s greatest success; but it was fol- lowed up by blow upon blow of immense effect—Bray, Proyart, Barleux, Mont St. Quentin and Peronne, the Hindenburg Outpost Line, and finally the breaking of the Hindenburg Line near Bellicourt——all of them battles which the greatest commanders in history might be proud to blazon on their banners. In every one of these the same careful planning of detail, the same lucidity of exposition which marked the arrangements for the 4th Brigade in the night attack at Anzac and the plans for the battle of Messines were obvious to everyone engaged. When the war closed, and Lieut.-Gen. 71

Sir John Monash went from the fighting in France to take over the direction of demobilisation in England, he brought with him a reputation for capacity in the organisation of warfare such as scarcely any other corps commander achieved.

EEEE

30bit monasb.

'BY J.B.

HEN the writer had not been long at the University he made the W acquaintance of an Arts student, a dark youth, who always carried a sturdy walking-stick, and was of a somewhat enterprising and energetic character. Though in different schools, similar tastes brought us much together, and started a friendship that has lasted for over thirty years. The dark youth was John Monash, and he soon made his presence felt at the University. He was to the front in all movements, and his strenuous— almost aggressive-—persona1ity, if it did not make enemies, at least caused some unpopularity and jealousy. However, even those who criticised most freely were themselves eager to push him into any position requiring initiative and energy. The writer, in his long experience, found him the staunchest, most reliable, and generous of friends, and as years passed, developed a higher appreciation of his other qualities. He did a distinguished Arts course. Finding the practical application of this course limited in extent, he commenced an Engineering course. Before this was completed, however, financial reasons compelled him to obtain employment. In those days exhibi- tions and scholarships were not as plentiful and easily earned as now. The writer obtained him this employment with the engineering firm that employed himself—a firm with the most extensive workshops in the States, with numerous quarries, saw mills, etc., owning quite a fleet of vessels for carry- ing timber, etc., from other States, employing several thousand men, and having numerous railway, bridge and other contracts. For instance, it was building the Queen’s Bridge, the Falls Railway, Princes and the Burnley Bridge, and widening the Victoria-street Bridge at the same time. In the same employment were Mr. George Higgins, Mr. W. R. Rennick, Mr. S. R. Dawson, and other distinguished University engineers. John Monash dis- tinguished himself here; he was extremely thorough in his work, and willingly undertook any duty. It was sufiicient for him to be told to do a thing. Even if he had never heard of it before he would find a way to do it, and do it better than those who had long experience at it. He left here to act as engineer for the firm of contractors building the Outer Circle line, and carried out the work with great success. While at this work he completed his Engineering course, coming out top of the Final Honours, and winning the Final Scholarship. This he did without attending lectures and on notes bor- rowed from the writer. In lending them I remarked that I hoped he would 34 72

be able to make some use of them, as I could not make head or tail of them myself. He was quite indignant with me when returning them, and said that he found them perfectly good notes. After this he did a large variety of engineering work. In one case where he and his then partner (Mr. Ander- son) had built an aerial ropeway for a mining company, over which there was a dispute, I was called in to give expert evidence. I was then struck with the very thorough way in which he had prepared the case, anticipating every possible move of his adversaries. About this time he earned a great reputation for conducting arbitration cases, of which there were a great many being fought. In order to be thoroughly equipped for this work, he did the Law course in his leisure, and obtained his LL.B. degree. In all this time his principal hobby was his military work. While at the University he was an enthusiastic member of the University Rifles, and made some invention in connection with artillery that was generally adopted. Not that this was his only hobby; among other things, he was a pianist of great ability, and his literary work was of a high order. When the “University Review” was first established, he was appointed one of the editors (the others being Judge \Voinarski, Messrs. D. Wright and O'Hara Wood), and as far as I can recollect he and Judge V'Voinarski did practically all the work. A few years ago I attended a public function at which several men of repute as public speakers took part, and I found his address greatly superior to any of the others. What he had to say was more worth saying than anything the others had to tell us, and it was much better said. Before the war he had been appointed Chief Intelligence Officer, and early in the war Chief Censor, but he seized the first opportunity to get to the front. \Vhen he informed me with great delight of his appointment, I said that I hoped the war would be over before he got there. He replied, “Don’t say that, after all our prepara- tion we’d like to have a look in." In writing since, I reminded him of that. and asked if he had had a sufficient “look in” yet. As‘ he has not told me, I suppose he has not.

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majoraCBeneraI Str 3. "dill. mccag.

BY C. E. W. BEAN.

HEN the Ist Australian Division was formed by Gen. Bridges he chose for one of the commanders of his three infantry brigades Col. ]. \V. McCay, who had long been an officer in the militia, and who had also been Minister for Defence. Col. McCay, being a Victorian, commanded the 2nd Australian Infantry Brigade which went from Victoria. He was in charge of the training of his brigade, and the manner in which this training was planned and carried out was the first proof of a certain brilliance which marked his instructional work both in Egypt and in England. While the Ist Division was still at Mena the Turkish threat to the Suez Canal caused a demand for reinforcements to be sent thither, and it was the 2nd 73

Brigade, under Col. McCay, which was the first amongst the Australian infantry to enter the trenches in this war. The fight hadt however, fizzled out, and the Turks were withdrawing across the desert of Sinai undisturbed. At the landing Gen. McCay’s brigade was the second to go ashore, and the contingencies of that fierce fight threw it in upon the southern flank of the Anzac position, where it fought bitterly for several days. Gen. McCay’s headquarters was in a very uncomfortable washaway, raked by shrapnel, on what afterwards came to be called McCay’s Hill. A little more than a week after the landing, when Sir Ian Hamilton had decided that no further progress was to be made at Anzac and all efforts con- centrated at Helles, Col. McCay’s Brigade and the New Zealand Infantry Brigade were sent down from Anzac to reinforce the British and French at the toe of the Peninsula in a determined attack towards Achi Baba. It was here, on May 8th, 1915, that Col. McCay received at about 5 in the afternoon the order that his brigade was to be advancing to the attack in the line with the New Zealanders, the British, and the French at 5.30. There was scarcely time to get out the order to the troops. But the thing was accomplished. By 5.30, or very little after, the first lines of the brigade were crossing the “'l‘ommies’ Trench,” which was the front line of the previous day. The lines went out into a hellish fire. It looked as though those who had gone ahead into that storm could scarcely be expected to hold, and accordingly Gen. McCay led the supports from the Tommies’ trench and placed his head- quarters up in the front with the attacking line, in such a position as perhaps no brigade headquarters in this war ever afterwards occupied. From there he went round the line from left to right. Every member of his staff was hit; but by some miracle he managed to survive till about u p.m., when he was badly wounded through the leg. On his return from Egypt, before the leg had really mended itself, he took up the command of his brigade in the sector opposite Johnstone’s jolly. The 2nd Division was then about to be formed in Egypt, and Col. McCay had actually been picked for the command of it, when the bone of his leg, which had never healed, snapped at a steep point in the trenches, and he was invalided to Australia. He became Inspector-General, but was soon sent to the front again to assume command of the 5th Australian Division, which he formed and trained in Egypt. Gen. McCay had no sooner arrived with his division in France than it was plunged into the deadly field of Fromelles. The division succeeded to a degree which, looking back on the overwhelming difficulties of the postponement, task, its and the certain foreknowledge of it by the enemy, seems beyond everything that could have been expected. Fromelles left the divi- sion faint with losses. After its gradual recovery of its first strength, it was sent to join the Ist Anzac- Corps in the midst of the Somme winter. Gen. McCay was in charge of the first operations near Flers in November, the troops being mainly those of the 2nd Division. The weather conditions made these attacks quite impossible; and the stress of that winter told upon the General also. After living it out for several months he was sent to take over the command of the Australian troops training in England. Here the outstand« ing ability in the instruction of troops which had been noticed in the training of the in Egypt again marked his work, and he remained in this position until the end of the war. 74

JBrigabteraCBeneral Elliott.

BY C. E. Vl'. BEAN.

0L. ELLIOTT was one of those original battalion commanders of the Ist Australian Division whose personal bravery was well known and tested before ever they came on to a battlefield in this war. From the day of the Landing, when he climbed over the foot of Shrapnel Gully and up on to the heights of MCCay’s Hill with the 7th Battalion, he was never to be restrained from rushing like a bull into a fight wherever fighting was. He believed, like Stonewall Jackson, that the personal intervention in a battle of the commanding olficer at a decisive moment might be trusted to swing over the balance of success. As one of the most enthusiastic of our militia soldiers, he had fed and grown up on the histories of old wars; and more, perhaps, than any brigade commander in the A.I.F. he kept those old battles consciously before him. He returned from convalescence in time to take his battalion into the slaughterhouse of the' “Pine,” where he amused himself, as things settled down, by sniping in person at surprised Turks in the comfortable positions which they did not realise that we now overlooked. On the transfer of the force to Egypt he was appointed to the command which he made his own to a greater degree than perhaps any other commander that of the 15th (Victorian) Brigade. He commanded that brigade in the murderous attempt upon the Sugar Loaf Salient at Fromelles. He worked it almost to the bone in the very worst of the Somme winter. He pushed out into the green country beyond Bapaume as an advance guard, with cavalry, foot and guns complete—an expedition dimly reminiscent of his dearly loved South Africa; he held it somehow through the appalling shellfire and con- fusion of the German attack of September 25th at Polygon Wood, and launched the reinforced remnants in a successful attack next day; he was straining at the leash like a greyhound throughout a whole day for leave to counterattack the Germans in Villers Brettonneux on April 24th of last year, until leave finally came, and the famous attack was launched and swiftly succeeded. By his personal force of character rather than by any other means he managed to: keep his battalions, hopelessly attempting to cross the Somme by footbridge, until a surprise movement in a very different direction won the key to Peronne. He tried his battalions as few other commanders did in fight and in fatigue, and from first to last he managed to‘ keep their real affection and their respect in a degree to which few even aspired. When the regard which is now borne by men of the A.I.F. becomes the heritage of the children of Australia, the honoured and welI-loved name of “Pompey Elliott”——for all his headstrong impetuosity—cannot help but become a house- hold word.

ElEllilEl JBrtgabteraGeneral chcolI.

BY 0. E. W. BEAN. A]. McNICOLL sailed from Australia as a major of the 7th Battalion. On the departure of Col. Semmens, of the 6th Battalion, from Mena. owing to iil-health, Maj. McNicoll was promoted to the command of the 6th. He landed with it in Gallipoli, and in the early fighting he became the recognised commander of a section of the line corresponding roughly to that held by the bth and 7th Battalions, and supervised in the front line by Maj. Bennett. C01. MeNicoll's work, which amounted almost to that of a briagde headquarters, was carried on from a point near Brown’s Dip. When the 2nd Brigade went to Helles, Col. McNicoll, on leading his men over, was hit just as the line crossed the “Tommies Trench.” The hurt was not serious. He jumped up again and blew his whistle, and led the line over into a hailstorm of bullets until about 250 yards across the heath, where he fell very seriously wounded. The bullet seemed to have become involved in the thigh bone near the joint, and for many months it was uncertain whether he would ever make a recovery except that of a crippled man. An operation fortunately restored him the use of his leg; and though it remains stiff to this day, he was able to take the command’ of the 10th (Victorian) Brigade of the 3rd Division when this was raised in Australia. This brigade he commanded almost to the end of the war. In spite of the lameness caused by his wound he both walked and rode almost as well as an unwounded man. He fought his brigade through the trench raids in the winter of 1916-17, and through the battle of Messines, At Paschendaele it was faced with the heaviest mud and the most insurmountable difficulties of ground in which an Australian unit ever fought, with the possible exceptions of the conditions which existed at Flers. 'l‘he Ioth Brigade was famous for its raids, and those carried out in the winter of 1917-1918 were the most important in which Australians ever engaged. In the spring the brigade was one of the first to stem the advance of the Germans when they broke through the British line near the Somme. Gen. McNicoll commanded it in the great counter offensive of August 8th and in the advance which followed. During the period of Demobilisation he became Inspector of Education in the system which occupied the months between the signing of the armistice and the return of the troops.

EEEE‘

Brigabier—(Beneral mil. $138111} FTER graduating B.C.E. of this University in 1893, William Grant was for two years employed on railway construction work in New South \Vales. Since then he has been engaged in pastoral pursuits on the Darling Downs in Queensland. His military career dates from Ist February, 1901, when he joined the Light Horse. Since that date he has served continuously. For four years 76 prior to the outbreak of war he was in command of the Darling Downs Light Horse regiment. When the war commenced he was appointed to the com- mand of the 11th Light Horse Regiment (A.I.F.), and landed with his unit on Gallipoli. The regiment was split up (or six months, during which time he held the temporary command of the 9th A.L.H. Regiment. \Vhen the A.I.F. returned to Egypt after the withdrawal, the 11th A.L.H. Regiment was re-formed, and he resumed command. For his work in connection with the Romani operations he was men- tioned in despatches, and afterwards received the D.S.O. His performances in connection with raids on Maghdaba and Nikhl, in the Sinai peninsula, were most notable. and his conduct in the earned him another mention in despatches. On August 13th, 1917, he was promoted Brigadier—General, with the command of the 3rd A.L.H. Brigade. A month later he was transferred to the 4th A.L.H. Brigade, and he held command of this until demobilised. He was awarded a Bar to the D.S.O. by General Allenby on the field for the capture of Beersheba, while for services rendered in the operations result- ing in the fall of Jerusalem, the Sultan of Egypt conferred on him the Order of the Nile. On June 3rd, 1918, he was promoted Brevet-Colonel in the Australian Military Forces for distinguished services in the field. For his services in the final campaign, which included the , he was awarded the C.M.G.

EJEJEIE

captain frank an. macmamara, 10.6.

' .-\PTAIN MACNAMARA gained his in Palestine, and was wounded at Gaza in April, 1917. Though bleeding from a severe wound, he descended in his aeroplane to help a pilot whose machine had been shot down behind the enemy’s lines. This was in the face of very heavy rifle fire and the approach of hostile cavalry. Captain Rutherford—— the pilot who had been brought d0wn——climbed into MacNamara's aeroplane, but the machine swung round with the extra weight and was damaged. Under constant heavy fire, the two ignited the machine. They then suc- ceded in starting the engine in Rutherford’s machine, which was fortunately doubIe-seated, and MacNamara flew to an aerodrome 70 miles distant. Before enlisting, Capt. MacNamara was a lieutenant in the 4th Infantry Regiment, Brighton Rifles. Since returning, he has been instructing at Point Cook in avtation.

[BEBE] @133“ ¢Ovenant5 @1361“? Hrriveb 2'“. BY J. G. LATHAM.

OST Secret,” “Secret,” “Confidential,” “For Official Use Only"— these were the words upon the left-hand top corner of most of the documents with which the Delegation worked in Paris. So far was the impulse to secrecy carried that even propaganda material published for broadcast distribution by foreign delegations was some- times circulated with the word ”Secret” stamped across it. “Open coven- ants openly arrived at” is more than a good platform phrase. The prin- ciple which it expresses makes a natural appeal to the modern mind. Open diplomacy, the democracies of the world agree, is desirable so far as possible —but even with democracies it is frequently the other fellow’s diplomacy that it is desired to open up. In practice, it was found impossible to admit the peoples of the world into the council chambers of the nations. “Mouth shut, eyes and ears open,” was the rule at Paris. “Mouth shut” must still be the rule for those who were entrusted with the duty of working there. It is therefore impossible for me to relate any of the real secrets of the Peace Conference with which I happen to be acquainted. Doubtless Mr. William le Queux is already occupied with the fascinating task of providing diplo- matic secrets for public consumption. It would be unreasonable to hope to compete with such revelations, and I must therefore confine myself to less intriguing details. It is common to hear severe criticism of the secrecy of the proceedings. The severity of the criticism, however, often varies inversely with the sense of responsibility of the critic. Most of this criticism has appeared in the press—and one function of the press is to fathom secrets for the purpose of revealing them to an expectant public. It was natural that the press should be annoyed when, after the announcement of “open covenants opely arrived at,” it was found that the press of the world was not to be admitted to the inner discussions of the Allies. After a stern struggle, the press secured admission to the meetings of the Peace Conference, with the not unexpected result that important discussions were driven out of the Peace Conference into secret councils, while the Conference itself was confined, as a rule, to the duty of ratifying decisions which had been carefully prearranged. At a later stage the press itself, although always restive, recognised the distinc- tion which is illustrated between open debates in Parliament and private dis- cussions in Cabinet. It was seen that this distinction is based upon real necessities which could not be ignored if there were to be any real chance of the Allied Powers arriving at agreement amongst themselves. The Allied and Neuttal press had sent their ablest men to the Conference, and when they failed to discover what was in fact being done, they either guessed at ita—sometimes most acutely—or filled their columns by reviling the Conference for doing nothing. It was occasionally rather amusing to know the facts, and to read an account of those facts in the press. But in most cases the press was represented by men of great skill and ability, many 9 78 r of whom made useful contributions to the discussions of subjects in which they were specialists. Each delegation adopted special measures for giving information to its own press. At the head of the Press Section working in liaison with the Foreign Office was Sir George Riddell, president of the Newspaper Proprie- tors’ Association, and one of the most popular men at the Conference. A close friend and constant associate of Mr. Lloyd George, he was in a posi- tion to know everything. Knowing everything, it was his difficult duty daily to face a gathering of pressmen greedy for news, and to tell them what it was deemed proper for them to know, and to try to satisfy their pro- fessional voracity. Complete success in this task was manifestly impossible, and it is therefore no mean compliment to Sir George Riddell to say that he is still the friend of the leading statesmen of England, and still the leader and friend of the journalists of Great Britain. Many otherwise unintelligible circumstances connected with the Peace Conference can be explained by the party politics of particular countries. In the case of each of the five Great Powers, this was often apparent. Presi- dent Wilson’s efforts to “make the world safe for the Democratic Party," enraged the Republicans up to and beyond the speechless stage. M. Clemen- ceau, who was a real and not merely a titular President, did not escape similar troubles. It is sufficient to say that Paris has, or had during the Conference, no less than 43 daily newspapers, each of which had some man on its staff who was capable of determining all the questions of peace rapidly, effectively, wisely,‘ and without party bias. The French press fre- quently “got into a state,” as one lady might say of another; politics in France are nothing if not vivid, and Clemenceau had many difiiculties of his own. The representatives of Italy and Japan were similarly bound to take account of the daily trend of public opinion in their own countries. It is obviously dangerous to comment upon so august and powerful an institution as we are in duty bound to believe the British press to be——but no observer could fail to be impressed by the fact that the British charac- teristic of self-depreciation, in the form of depreciation of the national repre- sentatives, was frequently exemplified during the Conference. British news- papers were to be found leading the chorus of abuse of their own representa- tives—particularly of Mr. Lloyd George. A not inconsiderable section of the British press was prepared to credit almost any assertion made by an interested foreigner if it could be used to injure the British Prime Minister. The aims, motives and methods of the British representatives were daily disparaged. The war being over, it was apparently thought proper to resort to their old motto, “Acrivnony as usual.” It is not suggested that Mr. Lloyd George or Mr. Balfour and their associates were beyond or above criticism, or that discussion on great world questions is to be stifled, but it is impossible not to hold the opinion that the spirit of the criticism emanating from certain British quarters was a most serious handicap to British interests. It is commonly assumed that President Wilson sacrificed his principle of “open covenants,” that he was overborne by the bad old traditions of schem- ing European statesmen. It is only fair to remember, however, that in one sense the covenants of the Peace Treaty were openly arrived at. The negotiations with the Germans, which were all in writing, were promptly 79

made available to the press, and therefore the process of arriving at covenants between the parties was open in the fullest sense. Few people seriously maintain that preliminary discussions within the circle of the Allies on the one hand, or within the German Delegation on the other hand, to determine the attitude to be adopted in relation to the proposed covenants, should have been open to the press. It is not irrelevant to remark that the Germans, equally with the Allies, were bound by President Wilson’s Fourteen Points and speeches, and that any degree of publicity which might justly have been demanded for the process whereby the Allied representatives made up their minds on the problems of Peace, might, with equal justification, have been required from the Germans. It is indeed by no means an insignificant advance towards open diplomacy that the whole world knows the process of bargaining with the enemy. The Peace Treaty, in its original form, is available to all—-so also are the German Notes, the Allied replies, and the final decisions. It is therefore a mistake to suppose that the principle of open The thirst of public men for publicity is a characteristic which does not disappear when a man is made into a plenipotentiary. But, on the whole, the members of the various Delegations faithfully observed the obligation not to use onfidential matter for the purposes of personal or political propaganda. On some occasions it was clear that confidential information had been given away in order to serve a particular purpose, but these occasions were rare, and experience showed that a breach of trust of this character only discredited the individual who had been guilty of it. The system adopted in the staff of the British Empire Delegation for preserving the secrecy of documents and excluding eavesdroppers was very complete. The residential and official hotels which the Delegation occupied were guarded by security officers from Scotland Yard, who challenged all persons not in possession of an official pass. These passes bore the photo- graph, signature, and official description of the holder. The British telephone system was self-contained. Special arrangements were made to carry letters twice a day to London without the use of the local post office. Urgent letters could be sent by the British Air Service. The distribution of documents was most carefully controlled. A receipt slip was attached to the external envelope which covered the documents in a sealed inner envelope. This slip had to be signed by the addressee before the marine whose duty it was to deliver documents would hand them over. When the Cabinet met, the doors and approaches were carefully guarded, and on some occasions, when the meeting was held in a room on the ground floor of the Hotel Majestic, special pre- cautions were adopted in the neighbouring street. Mr. Lloyd George occupied a house in the Rue Nitot. President Wilson lived in a house in the Rue des Etats-Unis, within a few yards of the Rue Nitot. At Mr. Lloyd-George's house there were a couple of unobtrusive men from Scotland Yard. President VVilson’s establishment was guarded by gen- darmes and American soldiers. The whole of one side of the Place was forbidden to the public—persons were not allowed to walk past the house on the footpath, or to drive along the road, unless they had the necessary authority. This degree of state is explained by the fact that President Wilson was the only actual head of a State attending the Conference. Other pleni- potentiaries were Ministers of State of their respective countries, and thus 9A 80

were not entitled to, and did not receive, as in the case of President Wilson, the honours due to a monarch. The distinction between the President and the other plenipotentiaries is emphasised by the phraseology used in the Treaty of Peace. In the case of the British Empire, the party to the Treaty is His Majesty the King “by the Right Honourable David Lloyd-George, M.P.,” and others. In the case of France, the party to the Treaty is the President of the French Republic, “by” certain named Ministers. But in the ease of the United States of America the party is “The President of the United States of America, by the Honourable Woodrow Wilson, President of the United States, acting in his own name and by his own proper authority.” It may be remarked that the American Delegation was as careful as any other to keep its own secrets, The Hotel Crellon, the American Delegation headquarters, was as carefully guarded as the Hotel Majestic, the Hotel Astoria, or the Hotel La Perouse, which belonged to the British Delegation. It is safe to say that actual experience of practical diplomacy shows that open diplomacy in the full sense is impossible. It may be that if the Golden Age ever returns the leaders of nations will be able to lay all their cards on the table—if, indeed, cards will exist in the Golden Age—-but until international conditions have become stable it is useless to think of any such harmonious procedure. The most hopeful result of the Conference, apart from the actual making of Peace with Germany, is the establishment of the League of Nations. If the League of Nations is, as it ought to be, strongly supported by the demo- cracies of the world, a practical step in the direction of open diplomacy will have been taken. The League is to act not only as the headquarters of many international bodies, but also as a clearing house for the nations on inter- national affairs. If the officers of the League succeed in translating the ideals of its founders into fact, they will provide well-digested and easily accessible information upon which the peoples of the world will be able to form intelli- gent judgments upon the many issues of international politics. If the League confines its operations to emergency action for the purpose of preventing a threatened war it will fail in one of its principal functions. The League, to achieve the end and aim of its being, must always be in action in order to provide reliable material upon which those responsible for foreign affairs may draw. This department of the functions of the League has been most fully developed in relation to the Labour Covenant, which makes provision for the collection and publication of information on Labour questions throughout the World. Many international disputes— -and any international difference of opinion is a potential cause of war—are due to faulty information or to a miscon- ception of the nature and aims of the policy of foreign states. It will be one of the duties of the League of Nations to minimise such opportunities of mis- understanding. Many of those who were present at the Peace Conference in the British and American Delegations realised this fact very clearly, and steps are being taken to organise the study of foreign affairs in the British Empire and the United States for the purpose of assisting the League of Nations in this work. After every allowance is made for the necessity of secrecy in certain cases, it remains true that a modern democracy cannot be expected to sup- 81 port its leaders unless it understands the policy to which they are committing the country. This is emphatically the case in Australia. It is necesary for Australians to understand not only their own foreign policy but also the foreign policies of other nations, and it is the duty of ounleatiers to 'take steps not only to organise eihcient machinery for dealing With international questions, but also to provide the people (so far as is consistent with the public safety) with the information which is necessary to enable them to form an intelligent opinion. The revolt which is apparent throughout Australia against unnecessary governmental secrecy is an encouraging sign, and it is to be hoped that, with due limitations and precautions, full recognition will be given to the right of the people to know and understand the principles upon which their affairs are being conducted. One of the greatest needs of the day in Australia is an appreciation of the extent to which the Australian is unavoidably concerned with foreign problems, and a realisation of the necessity for the intelligent support of an informed democracy in order to make a policy wise and effective.

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(their peace.

Now peace has come, but they that fell Know only that they sought it well. They cannot know that peace has come!

How did it come? Like dawn, like night? Like one bird singing for the light? Surely they knew that peace would come! How did it come? On silent feet, Act055 the grass that dew made sweet? They could not hear the stillness come. 0, still joy after changing years! Fathers and sons bring home their spears (But they know not that peace has come).

“Peace 3” we have said, yet held our breath. “A moment free from lowering death !” They know not such faint peace has come. Jay in our hearts, yet bitter dread, Lest \vainly, vainlv life was shed. For they must know that peace has come. Let us make haste and let us build Great worlds with stren th and wonder filled, Thou shall they know t eir peace has come. -—N ettie Palmer. 82

the Huetraltane' part in the ¢hecking of the (Breat (Berman ®ffenstve 0t 1918.

BY CAPT. J. D. ROGERS.

THE accompanying sketch is of great historic interest, as it shows the most extreme westerly point reached by the Germans on the Amiens sector in their last supreme effort to break the Allies’ line on the Western Front, and the part played by the Australian Corps. in checking that effort. tfhe whole of the available forces of the enemy were thrown in at what was considered the critical point in the whole line—the junction of the British and the French—~and in a few weeks the whole of the Somme country, which had been taken by us at such bitter cost during the Summer of 1916 and that most cruel of all winters that followed, was lost. Many miles of country in addition were captured by the Germans with very little loss. Villers- Bretonneux was taken, and from its commanding position the enemy over- looked the whole of the Somme Valley to the West, including Amiens and that important north and south line of communication, the Amiens-Paris rail- way Never since the early days of the war had the enemy been so near success—a success to which he was much nearer than he knew, for our line was practically broken. _ The whole five divisions of the Australian Corps had spent a strenuous winter on the Messines-VVytsehaete front, and as soon as it could be done they were relieved from the line, and despatched by strategic train to the Somme. The 3rd and 4th Divisions Were the first to arrive, and so critical was the situation, and so doubtful the exact whereabouts of the enemy that covering parties were necessary to cover their detrainment. Orders were then received for them to advance eastward until they gained touch with the enemy,. Isolated parties of the enemy were driven back, and a line made corresponding very nearly to the most westerly red dotted line on the sketch. The 2nd and 5th Divisions were close behind, and were soon in the fight- ing. In those first few days the 3rd Division drove the enemy back about a mile near Vaire, and the 5th Division advanced a similar distance near Meri- court. In spite of heavy counter attacks by the enemy the line was held. For the first time since its beginning the German rush had been appreciably checked, and we were able to get a rough idea of what enemy forces were opposing us and where their strength lay. This check also enabled the British and French to collect their tired divisions, and so arrange their forces as to Checkmate further attacks which might be expected from the enemy. But before he was able to move, that attack, which was probably one of the most decisive of the whole war, was launched by us—the Villers-Bretonneux attack. Carried out by the 15th Brigade of the 5th Division, in conjunction with the 13th Brigade of the 4th Division, and taking place by night in practically un-reconnoitred country, this attack was probably unequalled in brilliance in the whole war.

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83

By morning, on the 25th April, Villers-Bretonneux and the surrounding high country was ours. In spite of many very severe and reckless counter attacks, the ground was held. Perhaps no battle ever had such a moral effect on the whole of the British Army. Whereas all thoughts had been for some time on merely stemming the onrush of the enemy, Headquarters began gradually to see that the dark time was perhaps over, and we could again think of attacking. The Ist Australian Division, it will be remembered, was the last to be relieved from the Northern Sector, and no sooner had it arrived at Amiens than the Germans broke through just south of the sector it had left, and within a few days were within striking distance of Hazebrouck and the Northern Lines of Communication. The Ist Division was at once sent back, and arrived just in time to help to a very great extent to check the enemy’s advance. Its work there in the vicinity of Meteren, Merris and Strazeele is a story to itself, and was equal in initiative and daring to that of the other {our divisions on the Somme Front. Down South, in the meanwhile, all four divisions were continually harassing the enemy, with raids and advances by day and by night, as often as not without any artillery co—operation, effecting what were known as “silent penetrations.” The effect these had on the enemy is shown rather well in an extract seen in a captured German Intelligence report, which ran something as follows :— “Opposite us are the Australians, rough, strong men from the bush, skilled in woodcraft—men who take cover in the long grass, and who steal on our advanced posts in the night. Woe betide any of our groups who are not continually on the alert.” On the 4th July the now historic battle of Hamel was fought, the battle in which Americans first fought side by side with Australians—and this on their “Day -of Independence.” This battle, a set-piece attack, with all arms co-operating—Artillery, Tanks, Flying Corps, etc.——was one of the most successful of the comparatively small battles of the war. It was carried out under the orders of our 4th Division, and was the first British attack in which both Tanks and a “creeping barrage” were used to ”see the Infantry through.” It was the Tanks’ great day, and after the battle neither the “Tank” men nor our “diggers” could say enough about the other. All the objectives were taken, and our losses were even less than the number of prisoners captured. By now, all along the line, both British and French were again thinking of attacking. and preparations were soon on the way for those vast attacks which were launched from August onwards, and which finally broke the German line. A rather high compliment was paid to the Australian Corps during most of this time. as on both the Northern and the Southern fronts a division of ours fought alongside the French as the “division de liason.”

EIEIEIEI 84:

With the “ntantrg.

BY W. E. DOWNING.

AS the dying light filters wearily through the grey tapestries in the west, a string of men, swearing, stumbling, encumbered with a score of articles of wood, of canvas and iron, filed along the duckboards. Across a waste of slush-tilled shell-holes that wooden causeway zig-zags among bat- teries of artillery, over waterlogged trenches in every hundred yards, leading from life to death, from the rural peace of the Flemish countryside to the horror, the agony, the frigid desolation of the Line. Shells crash, and everywhere fragments of iron burr through the faint breezes of evening. Far away, jets of mud splash into the air, clouds of black or white smoke slowly drift, and a rapid succession of booms comes through the interstices of continual sound; near at hand are frightful crashes, red- hot laminae of flying metal, searing flames. In the winking of an eye a man is transformed from the glory of his youth into a red and screaming horror, or an obscene mass steaming on the duckboards, or is flung inert into the water. A new Golgotha is in every shell-hole by the way; mangled bodies, half sunk in mud, are on either hand. Field guns and howitzers, nine-point-two’s and eighteen-pounders thunder from the rear, or on the nearer hillsides slam salvos of shells at a distant enemy, stabbing the twilight with javelins of flame, shattering on the tympanum With sharp metallic detonations. Day dies in a blackness more than physical—a night of despon- dency and of weariness. In front is the saffron flicker of the German guns, outlining the hills in each recurring instant. Behind is the nearer lightning of our own ..... as the Infantry goes “In.” Whether straining their eyes throughout the interminable night, watching for enemies moving across the tragic waves of sodden and tumbled earth in No Man’s Land; or in the weary and terrible hour of “Stand-to” at dusk and before dawn, when the mind rides a waking nightmare, bound as Mazeppa rode; or in the portentous moment of Zero Time, when the wide lands behind burst into gigantic flames, and the senses are stunned, and the earth rocks with the frightful hammering of thousands of guns, and the waves of men swarm over the parapet and follow a barrage that flogs the tortured soil, covering all with palls of battle-smoke—a moving wall of fire, through which enemy bullets sing and swish in clusters in the air; or in the chancy, silent, cold-blooded work of patrolling the front by night—there was no release from the continued horror, the strain—-no release but death or wounds. And ever the tale of casualties increased like sand in an hour-glass, heaping higher and higher with every second, every grain a life. Hunger and vermin, bitterly cold nights, disease, hard and unremitting manual labour under continuous fire, thirst at noonday, weary vigils, made up the life in the Line. There, the roar and crash of shells, the chatter of machine-guns, the frightful boom of minenwerfers filled the wastes with sound; and there was no sound that did not mean death. 85

The heaviest burden was not the big battles, but the continual going to and from the Line, for the first, or (as some did) for the fortieth time, always with a greater weariness, a greater strain on the nerves, a greater mathe- matical probability of doom. And when at length they came “out” for a few days to recruit their strength for further efforts, battalions had been reduced from six hundred to five hundred—or one hundred, or less. This is a strength state of a typical infantry company at Yprcs in 1917 :——— 25-28/9/17.—x34——39 killed, 74 wounded = 21. 4-7/10/17.—-—69 (including 48 reinforcements and casuals taken on strength since 29/9/17)——II killed, 28 wounded = 30. 12-15/10/17.—52 (including 22 casuals)—8 killed, 15 wounded = 29. And so it went on, year in and year out, sometimes at a less, sometimes at a greater rate. And the men came out of this hell, worn, haggard, filthy and bearded, hysterical, famished, staggering with fatigue. And ever and ever the iron wheel of days turned in its intolerable round. It is no disparagement of any other arm to say that the infantry bore the burden of the war in France. Whilst others, in the technical units, opposed machines to machines. the work of the infantrymen was to fight the unequal battle of flesh against steel. They bore an enormously heavier proportion of casualties than any other arm; endured by far the greatest hardships, the most intolerable privations; received the smallest ratio of benefits—the least leave, the scantiest rations; they were exposed to all the dangers of all the rest (with two minor exceptions) and to many others peculiar to themselves. The Landing in Gallipoli, although not so bloody or so successful as many engagements in France, fires the imagination more than any other. Its qualitv was intensely dramatic. An Australian force (“probably passable guerillas") was for the first time engaged in an independent operation. A nebula was concentrated into a new star. There followed the sacrifice of the 2nd Brigade at Cape Helles, the bloody defeat of the Turkish attack on May 19th, and again on June 29th; the fight- ing around German Oflicers’ Trench and Quinn's Post. On the 6th of August began the battle of Lone Pine—one of the most horrible battles of all time. One cannot in this place describe in full the des- perate rushes over deadly yards of bullet-swept hillsides, by men weak with dysentery and thirst; the burning of the wounded on Chocolate hill, when the scrub caught fire; or the deadly fights in the darkness of the covered Turkish trenches, against odds of three to one. On August the 8th took place the “sacrifice stunt” of the 3rd Light Horse Brigade. The fighting continued both here and at Suvla, until the end of the month. The 5th Brigade landed just in time to take part in the last important fight on the Peninsula. It was followed in September by the remainder of the 2nd Division. In December the A.I.F. returned to Egypt. The original Ist, 2nd, 3rd and 4th Brigades were each split in two, and formed the I4th, 15th, 13th and 12th Brigades respectively, and new Brigades of the same denominating numbers. The 4th, 12th and 13th were formed into the new 4th Division; the r4th, 15th and newly arrived 8th Brigade constituted the 5th Division. The 10 86

2nd Division, the youngest then on active service, remained intact. Mean- while the 3rd Division was forming in Australia. These four divisions were sent to hold the Suez Canal zone against a threatened Turkish offensive, and there underwent considerable privations. In March the Ist Division was sent to France. By June all but the Light Horse had left Egypt for ever. The Ist, 2nd and 4th Divisions at different times, held quiet sections between Fleurbaix and Ypres. In July the 5th Division went in the line at Fleurbaix. The other three marched south. On July the 19th occurred the most hideous catastrophe Australians have ever known, when 12,000 of the infantry of the 5th Division were sent “over the bags” and 10,000 were in the one summer evening wounded or killed. A fortnight later the other three divisions went into the charnel-house of Pozieres. Here an equally heavy smash was averted only by the brilliant and timely use of the reserves. The terrible fighting 0f Mouquet Farm followed immediately after. In these three battles the infantry in France suffered 32,000 casualties out of 50,000 men. In September, after sixty days‘ continuously in the Line, the remnants of the 5th Division were sent to the Somme. Then began theawful “Somme winter” of 1916, the worst winter campaign in history, with the possible exception of the Russian campaign of Napoleon. For days at a time the men were waist-deep in frigid mud—mud in which the legs were held as in a vice. It took 30 hours to struggle five miles from the Line at Flers to the camps at Montauban, going all the time. The shelling was unusually heavy. It was under these conditions that the very bloody attack on the Butte de Warlencourt took place. The mud phase continued into January, 1917. Trench feet (which often made necessary the amputation of both legs) caused greater ravages even than the dysentery of the Peninsula. Each division in turn went through the privations of that awful period. When it froze the conditions slightly improved. It was nevertheless the severest winter in France for forty years. The thermometer dropped to 29 degrees of frost, and frost-bite took the place of trench-feet. Men went into the Line without blankets, and sometimes without greatcoats. There were ghastly little fights—Stormy Trench, Bayonet Trench, Gendecourt. Under our ceaseless pressure the enemy was pushed almost to the walls of Bapaume. Then on St. Patrick’s Day the 2nd and 5th Divisions hurled the Germans from that stronghold, and harried them to the Hindenburg Line. There was a period of open fighting—the storming of villages here and there, the capture of Morchies, the first abortive attack by a weak detach- ment onLagnicourt, the epic fighting at Beaumetz, where a force of 1000 picked Prussian Guardsmen was annihilated by 300 weary Australians. Then came the advance from Lagnicourt, followed by the attack upon the Ist Division at that place, when the Germans, having been repulsed after pene- trating our lines, were caught between our trench and their own barbed wire. and the Australians sprayed them with bullets as they ran screaming up and down the front, until the heaps of German bodies had ceased to writhe and 2000 of the enemy lay dead. And now commenced the hideous carnage of Bullecourt. First, six battalions of the 4th Division, accompanied by twelve tanks, but unsupported 87 by artillery, attacked in broad daylight the virgin Hindenburg Line. Under a hellish enemy barrage, which destroyed the tanks, on which their 'chances depended, and under a heavy concentration of machine-gun fire, infantry climbed and threaded through the deep thickets of barbed wire, cut a passage through the German lines, and penetrated to a depth of 2000 yards. The devoted battalions were then surrounded by masses of the enemy, and with the exception -of a few hundreds captured after all their ammunition had been expended, were massacred. The Huns hit back. The 2nd Division withstood eighteen heavy attacks in a day. The 6th Brigade was surrounded, and the men fought back to back until the enemy was forced to withdraw. The men of the 54th Battalion, having been reduced in nine successive onslaughts to 300 men, including wounded, and after firing every round of ammunition, rose and charged and routed ten times their number. There was a violent and continuous barrage, night and day. The slaughter continued for five weeks. The 4th Division went north, and in company with the New Zealanders and the 3rd Division, which had arrived from England at the end of 1916, and had up till this time occupied quiet sectors, captured the Messines Ridge. In September the Australians went to Ypres, and became involved in a series of terrific battles for the ridges—Glencorse Wood (September 20th), Polygon \Vood (September 26th), Broodseinde Ridge (October 4th), and Pass- chendaele (October 10th). {Throughout the remainder of the winter there was continuous fighting at Messines, in the form of nightly raids on a large scale. In March, the 5th British Army broke, and the Australian Divisions were sent by forced marches to the Somme. I-lardly had they left the North when the enemy burst the line behind them. The Ist Division was turned back, and encountered the enemy in the forests of Nieppe. Around Merris and Meteren these few Aus- tralians did what the “Old Contemptibles” had done at Ypres in October, 1914. There was Homeric fighting against very heavy odds for four months, in which our men astonished both the Allies and the enemy by their daring, their wonderful initiative, and their invariable success. In those dark hours not a single Australian yielded an inch. \Vhile every one else was either retreating or with difficulty holding fast, the Australians, in the middle of the storm, actually advanced. On the Somme the other divisions had stopped the Huns and saved the day. A line was formed on March 27th. On April 4th a violent attack was launched on the 5th Division at Villers-Bretonneux. It failed. On April 5th the 12th and 15th Brigades were attacked at Demancourt by innumerable waves; were at length surrounded, and fought back to back until their assailants were cxterminated. Then new waves rolled over the hillsides, and the enemy brought field guns to the hedges five hundred yards from our men, and smothered their line with shells. The few men that remained repulsed these further attacks, counter=attacked, and drove the enemy for half a mile. There was hard fighting all along the line for four weeks. On April 24th an English garrison was exterminated 0n the vital hill of Villers-Breton— neux under a heavy attack. If the Germans had been permitted to make a further advance the war would have been lost. At one o’clock in the morning of. 25th April 3000 men of the 15th and 13th Brigades attacked without artil- 10A 88 lery support 30,000 Germans in strong positions, fortified by entanglements. In the wild bayonet charge 6000 Germans were killed and 1000 captured. The town was retaken, and Amiens saved. This feat is without parallel since Gideon. We conducted forays and minor attacks at Morlancourt and Ville-sur- Ancre. On July 4th brigades from all four divisions captured the heights at Hamel. On August the 8th a huge eight-mile drive from Villers-Breton- neux was accomplished by the 2nd, 3rd, 4th and 5th Divisions—the deepest one-day advance by the Allies since 1914. On August the 9th the Ist Division swept forward to Lihons. On August the 23rd there was another general advance, which drove the Germans over the Somme at Péronne. The Australians were given a month to cross the river. They did it in three days. In that very operation Peronne and Doingt were rushed by the 5th Division, and the glorious but almost incredible feat of storming Mont St. Quentin was accomplished by the 2nd Division. The 3rd advanced on the left. Then the enemy was relentlessly pushed towards the Hindenburg line. The capture of Hargicourt by the Ist and 4th Divisions brought us into view Otf that mighty system. On September 29th, in the costly attack at Belli- court, the 3rd and 5th Divisions, in company with the Americans, burst through the main bulwark of Central Empires. The vast moral effect of this victory was immediately seen in the capitulation of Austria. The 2nd Division swept through to the taking of the Beaurevoir system, of Beauregard and Montbrehain. In two months the Australian infantry had advanced nearly sixty miles, where every mile was marked by a violent struggle. It had captured tens of thousands of Germans, many hundreds of guns of all sizes, had defeated seventy-two enemy divisions, and had itself been reducd to a skeleton of an army. In all the A.I.F. there is scarcely a battalion whose total casualties do not represent a complete annihilation, five times over.

ElElElEl

mum the Artillery.

By D. R. P. AND C. W. W.

HE combined British and French armies had struck at last. The German trenches had crumpled to powder under the bombardment; whole sections of trench had disappeared amid the devastating fury of land mines, and the British battalions had slowly pressed forward to the ridge on the very crest of which stood the village of Pozieres. Along the wide cobbled roads, between avenues of apple trees and fields of ripening corn dotted with blood-red poppies and blue cornflowers, the Australian army advanced to its first great battle in France. The leaning 89 statue of the Virgin on the tower of the shattered Cathedral of Albert over- hung an unceasing stream of men and guns and transport, all grey-white with the chalky dust of Santerre. Huge howitzers boomed from among the ruined houses of the city. German shells shrieked, seeking to silence them, and hurled up volcanoes of bricks and paving stones. Long-barrelled naval guns unceasingly searched for the enemy batteries or shelled roads miles to the rear of his lines. Here was the greatest concentration of artillery the war had yet seen, and an artillery duel was in full progress. Still further on were hundreds of field guns—IS—pounders and 4.5 howitzers—dug into the hillsides and busily engaged in levelfing the German trenches and machine gun positions in the village of Pozieres, which had several times beaten back the English battalions. Now Australian troops had orders to carry it at all costs, and their own artillerymen took over the field guns from the English. At dawn on zlst July they stood by their guns, waiting for zero. The fateful hour struck at last, and every gun, from 15-inch howitzers miles to the rear, to trench mortars in the front line, barraged the German positions. By mid- day the infantry had carried the crest of the hill,‘ and the place where Pozieres ’had been. and the field guns had to move forward. New gun pits were quickly dug in the soft white stone, and everything camouflaged with nets and grass lest a Boehe plane should direct a hail of shells. Though the ridge was won the enemy line was not broken, and successive actions were fought, and a few more acres of ground gained till the Autumn rains set in. Then the chalky soil, churned up by thousands of shells, changed into a gluey mud. Plank roads were hastily laid down, and ammunition taken to the guns by pack horses and tramlines. Men could scarcely drag themselves through the slime, and a drizzling rain alternated with intense frosts. When in February, 1917, the enemy began to retire, the artillery could scarcely move to follow him. The ground was so soft and honeycombed with shell holes, and the horses so weak, that the gunners frequently had to manhandle their guns and pull them with dragropes a. few feet at a time. But they kept up some- how, and an Australian battery, the 4th, was the first to pass through the long-coveted city of Bapaume and engage the enemy on the Hinderburg line. On this new front there were few positions favourable for artillery; the enemy was superior in the air, and he knew every inch of the country. Every tree and hedge had been cut down, and from his position on a ridge the enemy could detect and shell our batteries and transport. Steadily the guns came into action to break this line at Bullecourt. The Germans endeavoured to break through and destroy them. Many pieces were temporarily cap- tured, but the gunners carried away sights or breechblocks, thus putting them out of action. Joining the infantry, they soon swept the enemy back in a. counter-attack. Other guns were pulled out of their pits and worked with terrible effect at point-blank range, and the enemy left many dead. While the Bullecourt battle was still raging the 3rd Division participated in an advance in Flanders which won the Messines ridge. During June and July guns large and small rumbled along the great roads towards Belgium. There, perhaps, the hugest artillery concentration of the whole war was massing, and in July the Australian divisions moved North to play their part. This was to be no surprise attack; sheer weight of material was to win the day, and guns in thousands were placed, battery 90 behind battery, till it seemed impossible that any living thing could survive their overwhelming might. All through that sunny month they pounded the semicircle of ridges that surround the ancient Flemish city of Ypres, obliter- ating trenches and pillboxes, villages and woods. The enemy guns, well directed from these ridges, swept the roads and tramlines leading to our positions. Batteries were discovered and blotted out of existence with a rag- ing storm of high explosives. Other guns scattered shells over the whole. area “sweeping and searching” for hidden batteries or ammunition dumps. Gas of every kind was poured over the low-lying country, and half-blind, voiceless men were only too common among the gun crews. More and more batteries came into action, and the tumult of this titanic struggle became indescribable. When at daybreak on the 31st July every gun spoke simul- taneously the noise was so tremendous that the gunners could not distin- guish the roar of their own pieces. The eastern sky was a belt of fire from the flames of myriads of high explosive and shrapnel shells. The German 5.0.5., red, green, and white rockets, clusters and strings of brilliant stars, flaming balls of fire, soared in panic into this inferno. But the attack had been delayed too long; the fine weather had broken, and the English battalions, hampered by the mud, did not win the crest of the ridges. The guns moved forward, and fresh battles continually developed. The autumn rains converted the shell-shattered earth into a treacherous morass; but, as before on the Somme, plank roads were pushed forward and shell carried to the guns by pack horses. Continually more and more ground was won, and at length, after months of constant struggle, British eyes gazed from the heights of Passchendaele far over the low—lying plains of Flanders. The attack had been expected on the Messines front. The unexpected happened—the Germans smashed through the Fifth Army and recovered all, and more than all, that the British had gained on the Somme in the previous twenty-one months. The. artillery followed the infantry southwards—the Fourth Division first, then the Third, Fifth, Second and First Divisions. Last of all came the mobile brigades, who heard, as they entrained at Strazeele, the rumble of the barrage announcing the fateful German offensive for the Channel Ports. Before the majority of the Australian guns could come into action, the valour of the infantry had saved Amiens, the most important sector on the British front. Then came the months of preparation for the counter-offensive. There was much artillery fire during this period. The successful attacks at Ville-sur-Anere, Morlancourt, and Hamel, were supported by barrages from the Australian field guns. New batteries came into action; the gunners dug advanced pits or trail- beds; and the heavy guns took up their positions—a sure sign that there was “something doing.” Villers-Bretonneux at night was blocked with a mass of men, horses, guns and wagons. At last everything was prepared; the guns were laid on the aiming posts, the fuses set, the shells—smoke, shrapnel, and high explosives— arranged in their proper order. “Thirty seconds to go!” called out an officer. The layers put their hands on the firing-levers. “Twenty l” “Ten !” “Five !” The silence was tense. Far back at Glisy a heavy French cannon boomed; the ofiicers blew their whistles, and thousands of guns opened on the German trenches. It was August the eighth. The great offensive had begun. 91

After a few minutes of whirlwind bombardment, the batteries settled down to their regular rate of fire. The barrage, a wall of bursting steel, crept forward, the range being lengthened at the blast of the whistles. The infantry followed, invisible in the mist of the morning and the artificial fog of the smoke-shells. Tanks attacked with them. The British planes maintained their mastery of the air. In two hours the field guns were out of range and moved forward to new positions; the batteries suffered heavy losses in this and subsequent actions. The German artillery lost 104 guns and many prisoners to the Australians. The weather remained fine. The First Division, which after a few hours at Amiens had been sent north, returned from the defence of Hazebrouck. The advance continued. The fighting became more open, and often batteries were attached to particular battalions. The Germans attempted to stand their ground at Peronne. After the capture of Mont St. Quentin, where the Second Division made its supreme effort, the advance continued to the Hin- denburg line, on whose impregnability the Germans based all their plans. This vast system of fortifications was the centre of German hopes. If the Allies broke through, Germany was lost, and both sides knew it. The artillery fire increased in intensity. Our guns searched the German roads and swept the German trenches. There was much gas-shelling. Our planes bombed and machine-gunned the enemy lines night and day, while hostile planes droned overhead in the dark, bombing roads, bridges, and the guns which they located by their flashes. Two American divisions came to ”hop over” with our experienced, but exhausted infantry. On the 29th September the attack commenced at Bellecourt. Fog and smoke-shells aided the storming troops, the barrage was intense but not prolonged. The tanks cut tracks through the formidable belts of barbed wire, and the infantry swept on. The batteries, the “heavies,” as well as the field-guns, had pulled up close to the front line in expectation of a greater advance than actually took place. \Vhen the fog lifted, they paid the price. The last lines of the Hindenburg system fell with the capture of Beaure- gard, Beaurevoir, and Marlbrehain. The attacks on these places were the the last fights 0f the finest infantry in the world. As the two American divisions had no artillery, our batteries were attached to them, but were gradually withdrawn. The last shots of the Aus- tralian Field Artillery were fired by the Fourth Division. The Heavy Artillery remained in action in Belgium till the signing of the Armistice. . The casualties of the artillery were heavier during 1918 than any other period of the war except those months at Ypres in 1917, which will always remain the artilleryman’s nightmare. The infantryman was a: competent and critical judge of artillery, and expressed his opinion in no ambiguous terms. His verdict was always for Australian artillery, whose most efficient brigades were, of course, those of his own division. 92

With the flying corps.

HE Flying Corps, unlike most other units, is divided into two almost distinct sections—the “combatant” ranks (pilots and observers), who, in the case of the Australian Flying Corps, were practically all oflicers, and the “non-combatants,” who, with the exception of a few technical officers, were “other ranks.” To the first group fell the dangers and the glory of the actual aerial warfare in all its many branches. Fighting enemy aircraft, trench “strafing” with machine guns, “shooting up” enemy reserves, bombing, photography, artillery observation, reconnaissance, the carrying of ammuni- tion and even food to front line or isolated posts—were some of the various jobs allotted to the airmen. To the technical side belonged the more prosaic and comparatively safe, though extremely important task of keeping the machines in perfect flying and fighting condition. An idea of the magnitude of this work may be gained from a perusal of the trade classification of the mechanics of a single squadron, which practically corresponds in its functions to a battalion in the infantry. The list comprises fitters, riggers, turners, acetylene welders, carpenters, vulcanizers, sailmakers, electrical and wireless mechanics, photographers, armourers, drivers, and cyclists of the motor transport and various clerks. The service pilot or observer was, for many reasons, much envied by his fellow officers of line regiments. He had, in his work, a spice of individual, almost free-lance, adventure that went much to redeem aerial fighting from the mechanical slaughter of infantry action. There was an undoubted fasci- nation and novelty in. the new, somewhat mysterious art of flying, and, above all, he enjoyed comparative comfort when not actually on a job. Not for him the muddy trench—the ubiquitous 5.9—the rat-infested dugout or the cheerless “bivvy.” A cosy Nissen hut (if the gods were good), decorated according to the taste of the inhabitants and the latest whim of Kirchner, a cheerful, comparatively well-furnished mess, generally plenty of good cheer (in the broadest sense), and the philosophy of Omar combined to alleviate the ”horrors of war” for the aviator. An airman is, in many respects, almost a sun worshipper. His day begins at dawn and ends at dusk. If it be wet or very cloudy, only the most urgent of stunts will send him from the ground. Winter, therefore, despite the soul-ehilling cold of the Flanders “upper air,” is not altogether unwel- comed by ofiicers or men. In any season, however, the show is always unpopular. and it needs but little discernment to pick the unfortunates whose turn it is to do the first show on the morrow. One sees a few desolate beings on the drome before turning in, gazing into the heavens for a wisp of angry cloud, or searching the horizon for a trace of fog that might betoken a “dud” morning and the luxury of a sleep in. But no sooner do their heads touch the pillows (real ones, if there has been a hurried civilian evacuation in the neighbourhood) than the monotonous formula of the orderly breaks through each one’s dreams. “Half—past four, sir, early patrol ordered up. Beautiful morning, sir.” “Beautiful, be ,” is the chorus in reply as each one 93 drowsily rolls out of his stretcher and proceeds to array himself in a moun- tain of woollens and furs. After a cup of tea and a biscuit, the patrol makes its way to the sheds, where the machines, neatly lined up, are being “run up” by the mechanics. A few words from the leader, and all get into their ’buses, going half unconsciously through the routine of fasten- ing their belts, testing controls, and loading and examining guns and Sights. The engines are “run up” to see that they are smooth and giving their ”revs,” and they taxi out into position on the aerodrome. There is a roar as the leader’s engine is opened out—the machine gathers speed—up goes its tail, and with streamers flying is soon climbing fast through the disappearing ground mist, followed by the others in their respective positions. In' a few minutes the ’drome is silent and deserted. In a couple of hours knots of flying officers and machines appear again round the hangars, all searching the western sky for the little black dots that are the returning machines. Eagerly they are counted—“3, 4, 5—where’s the sixth? Anybody see six?” Nobody does, and speculation is rife as to what has happened. Perhaps someone has had engine trouble. “C wasn’t climbing very well when she took off,” suggests one. “Lots of Huns about yesterday, and those black and white Fokkers are some split air merchants,” says a pessimist. Soon the patrol comes in to land. Each machine, which carries a flight letter denoting the pilot, as well as the squadron marking, is mentally ticked off as it is recognised. C is missing. “Wonder what’s happened to old X-—” is everybody’s thought, and as soon as the first machine is in a crowd surges round. “Oh, X , he fired a green light over Bapaume and went down—lost him in the ground mist. Only engine trouble and well on our side,” says the pilot in reply to the host of questions fired at him. There is a sigh of relief, but as he goes to the office to make out his report, he is again bombarded with questions. “Many Huns about ?” “Get any stoush?” the answers depending on his mood and often on his imagination. The “hot-air” having been duly delivered, breakfast and a sleep are the next important items, for plenty of sleep seems to be an absolute neces- sity in keeping fit for war flying. Even with the utmost care of mind and body the severe, if often unconscious, nerve strain caused many pilots to break down in considerably under the maximum of six months’ continuous war servxce. On the mechanics’ side much could be written on the multifarious, inter- esting technical details that were brought into being by service conditions: but with them we are not concerned. Like the flying officers, the mechanics were incomparably better off for creature comforts than their fellows of the infantry. Also, especially before the Hun began his objectionable habit of bombing and shelling aerodromes, they were comparatively safe. In spite of this, however, a number of men applied for transfers to line regiments rather than work, as they often had to, all day and almost all night for weeks on end; for at all costs the machines had to be kept serviceable. As soon as a machine arrived back from patrol it was carefully inspected and cleaned. Perhaps “Archie” or a wily Hun had got a burst into a plane, and a new one had to be fitted. The engine may have needed overhaul or replacement. The guns or gun gear may have required repair or adjustment, besides the routine cleaning and filling of belts and drums. Whatever needed doing was 11 94 started on instantly, and not left till the job was finished, even if it took at couple of days. The honour of the squadron rested on its keeping the machines “in the air”——the life of a pilot depended on the jobs being perfect. The A.F.C. may be justly proud of its record in the war, both for actual work over the lines and in the efficiency of its technical and training depart- ments. The keenness and skill of both oFficers and men, together with the good understanding that invariably existed between them, enabled the corps to keep up to the standard that the “digger” had won as a fighter in every other sphere of warfare.

EJEIEIE

Ehe Signal getVlce. BY G. L. MAYMAN.

IKE all other technical branches of the Army, the Signal Service was radically transformed, by a deliberate and determined process of evolw tion, into a complex application of the most recent scientific researches. To show how this was forced, in part by the nature of the ground and the climate, in part by the difficulties of communication in a heavily-shelled zone peculiar to French warfare, in part by the wit of the enemy and the temporary shortage of equipment, will involve a little use occasionally of technical terms; but the story of the conquest of material conditions, and the beating of the Hun on his own scientific plane, is one of those triumphant tales which are worthy to be told. A few flag-waggers, a heliograph, a telephone or two and some wire, and perhaps a foam-flecked steed galloping with rider through a shell-swept area, would no doubt form the general conception of the make-up of the signalling force. It, however, is not much more exact than the description of a lobster as “a red fish.” It is proposed to deal with the known elements of Signals on the Western Front only: the treatment of the same in Palestine would be obviously qualified by the climatic difference and the less crowded kind of warfare. Just what the Telegraph and Telephone Department and the Express Letter system are to our civil life the Signal Service is to the Army life, but in a more urgent and intense manner. If a Melbourne telegram does take a day or two to get to Ballarat it does not matter very much, but if a message from, say, Battalion H.Q. to Brigade H.Q. takes 5% minutes, the Signal office will probably have to face a demand couched, as only a Brigadier can, poli- tely‘;:—“Why the —— is this 5 minutes late, Sigs?” It is difficult to explain the vital value of this nervous structure of army communication by a simple comparison with the modern Telegraph and Telephone in even the busiest commercial centre. Nothing more exasperating and uncanny can be felt than to be in the midst of an important battle when all methods of com- munication employed have suddenly failed, 95

Haig briefly stated the function of the Signal Service to be “for the proper co-ordination of supply and for the direction and control of battle,” and in his last Despatch showed how it grew from 2400 trained and equipped for mobile warfare to a force of 42,000 with the latest devices to meet all con- ditions. Organized on the basis of a Divisional Signal Coy. as the fundamental unit, the general principle was to have one main system of wired communi- cation running through the division. This partook of the nature of a hier- archy or genealogical tree of three generations at least. A divisional. H.Q. had to keep forward touch with its three infantry brigades and two artillery brigades; these brigades with their four battalions and batteries respectively; and again the batteries stretched forward to Observation posts, and the battalions to their companies in the front line. The responsibility rested on the higher formation to maintain the lines to the lower, but the lower commander was responsible for keeping his superior posted with every happening. So in the dual endeavour the scheme worked at times. The net work was elaborated with lateral tentacles and branch lines to all sorts of units like Siege Artillery, Balloons, Sound Ranging sections, etc. Thus it often happened when the main‘idirect lines were broken that a message would find its destination after a roundabout wander through flanking units. Each little unit had its own telephone exchange switchboard of 4 or 5 lines, and as the importance expanded the number would rise to about 60 at a Divisional ofiice. Now we can start on our Evolution. The transition to trench warfare and the massing of men and artillery immediately presented the Signal Service with two difficulties. An enormous expenditure of wire was required for the consolidating divisions; this itself meant a drain on a limited supply of the insulated field cable, for all lines forward of brigades were laid on the ground or in ditches, and could not therefore be of bare metal. The second problem was the result of the gradually intensifying shelling of the zone which com- prised most of the land lines, and a frequently dislocated and shattered sys- tem was a daily annoyance. The first problem was solved in Englan’d with the munitions problem; the second was attacked in various ways. Lines were laid at the bottom of the communication trenches or pegged on the walls thereof, but this involved a difficult repair job when the trenches were smashed in. Standby and secondary communication was maintained by signal lamps, but these were antiquated, of poor power, and with too wide a lateral disper- sion of the beam of light; moreover this type of signalling was mainly only practicable from front line to rear stations—flashing lights in the opposite direction entailed obvious dangers and penalties. Towards the end of 19I6 a Birmingham firm produced the eflicient little ”Lucas” lamp of 12 volts power, which at night time gave an adequate range, and in daylight 4 or 5 miles. A carefully tested reflectorfia modified concave— cured fairly well the lateral spread of the ray. This lamp was easily manipulated and portable, and although it was 1918 before all units had a sufficient supply, it satisfied most tests, and certainly was superior to the Boche lamps. But rain and fog and artificial smoke barrage were fatal obstacles alike for this instrument and the heliograph—the latter simply a mirror device for using the sunlight (but, alas ! old “Helios” rarely gazed upon the muddy struggle). The beginning of 1917 In 96 saw a development of wireless sets of small compact size with a very limited range—many of only 2000 yards. But these were mostly experimental and unstandardized until the end of the year. Meanwhile another instrument for sending messages without wires, and its complementary receiving side, were successfully used over distances of 1500 to 2500 yards. “Power Buzzer” and “Amplifier,” as they were oflicially known, have been sometimes designated a ”ground wireless,” but this is not a proper classification. All of the tele- phones in the forward zone (from brigades to the front line) consisted of a “buzzer” and the ordinary speaking parts. The former acted as the calling part instead of a bell, and, if necessary, messages could be “buzzed” through in the Morse code. The two chief advantages of this telephone over the ordinary bell type were its portability and its capacity for working over high resistance lines (thus allowing of a thinner field cable, and cheap steel wire instead of copper), so that even a badly broken line on wet ground would carry a buzzed message when no ring or voice would get through. But it had one serious disadvantage common to vibratory or pulsating and alternating currents. Neighbouring parallel lines (and often 20 lines would be running along the same ditch or roadside) had a happy habit of picking up (by induc- tion) all sorts of stray conversations instead of their own, and a good strong buzzer would stir up all lines within some hundreds of yards. This was partly remedied when all lines were doubled just as the Melbourne telephone exchange service was improved by the same means. So that no longer were lovers’ idylls shattered by somebody bursting in with an order for pork or an enquiry for the undertaker. But “it is an ill wind,” etc., and it was this very property of “induction” which made the Power Buzzer a successful de- vice for signalling from the front line to some rear Headquarters when other means had failed. Each end would run out a ”base line” of about 100 yards long, pegged to the ground, and arranged as far as possible to be parallel, although maybe a mile apart. This high power vibrator and its receptive apparatus had another double-edged value. It could be intercepted by the German listening sets, and we in turn with instruments that were gradually perfected could pick up enemy messages. To avoid dangers both sides adopted very elaborate codes and ciphers; units also were known by code names, which were periodically changed, to the confusion of friend and foe alike. Commanders and specialists and staff officers enjoyed the results of somebody‘s brain wave with titles like—“Pilot,” “Skipper,” “Bosun,” the Intelligence Officer was “Sherlock," the Signal Officer was “Marconi”— the chaplain might have been called “Sky Pilot.” One of the most successful signal inventions of the war was that of Capt. Fuller, of the Royal Engineers, called the Fullerphone. Shortly, it was the ordinary buzzer with an added device which converted the vibratory current into a “direct” (non-vibratory) current, so that the signals on the line were rendered practically non-interceptable. Brought out at the end of 1916 with improvised materials, it developed into a particularly neat and eflicient instru- ment before the enemy had grasped its principles. A captured German General-staff document on the Signal Service, dated July, 1917, hinted at the proposed adoption of an instrument designed to prevent interception. Captured British instruments had no doubt provided the stimulus. In the early Fullerphones there were certain defects which were made good on 97 the information of a German prisoner, who explained how they used to set out their listening set lines for picking up Fullerphone signals. But for quickness and satisfaction, provided secrecy could be guaran- teed, nothing is better than the telephone conversation, and efforts were made to provide this service always. The gradual intensification of artillery fire and its increasing range brought about the evolution of the “Buried cable system.” It was at a time when most things were being driven underground for protection. Trench warfare demanded a consolidation of the communi- cation system and an alertness of this nerve structure. From Divisional H.Q. one or two main routes to Brigades were laid underground, varying in depth from 3 to 6 feet, according to the ground and the feeling of the diggers. In advance of Brigade HlQ. the system was expanded con- siderably, both forward and laterally, into what was called a “grid” forma- tion—i.e., a network, linked up with flank units of neighbouring divisions. The number of lines buried in the main trunk route would vary from 50 to 100 pairs, all carefully insulated from each other. Such a scheme was mani- festly costly in material and labour, but it was absolutely justified in its effi- ciency and in its prevention of that prodigality of signallers’ lives, which prevailed with line-repairing work on the surface lines. In the heavily-shelled area a maximum depth of 7 feet was aimed at, but even this was often pene- trated in the softened and much-churned earth of, say, Ypres or Messines, by an 8-inch shell; on the Somme the chalky ground rendered a lesser depth of 5 feet sufficiently protective on most occasions. Infantry parties of too to 200 men, under the Signalling Officer, usually buried the cable at the dead of night, in all weathers, sometimes ‘neath the moonbeam’s misty light, but never ”with lanterns dimly burning.” A few shells hastened the digging. Sometimes an electric torch would be nervously used, on the desire of a digger, to confirm whether he had really stuck his pick into a dead Boche, though usually no light was wanted to verify this; another would find that the hard substance he had been attacking was a “dud" shell! Very often lines were “buried” in canals and rivers, even in sewers. In moving warfare the burying of cable was not indulged in, as time and men for assault were much more in demand. It was in this freer move- ment that other methods were successfully exploited. Pigeons, although used a good deal in trench life because of their mobility, immunity from gas attacks, and ready return to a near loft, found their best service with assaulting parties. Lamp signalling back to pre- arranged stations also played an important role until the lines were run forward. But the greatest informers of the progress of battle were the wire- less men, whether from the air or artillery forward posts, or infantry stations, or even tanks. Nor must one forget those splendid men, the Runners, who, like stretcher-bearers, got a bigger share of barrages than anybody else———to and fro so many times. Motor cyclists, too, came into their own when an army was on the move. Wireless had developed very rapidly and extensively after 1917. Each Division had a definite wireless section under a wireless ofiicer, which was part of the signal service, but planned to give a complete chain of communication from the front line back to Corps if other methods failed. But, in addition, the artillery was supplied with a type of wireless telegraph, entirely a war product, and distinct from the commercial wireless 98 and the other army types in one essential principle. To the technically initiated it can best be called. by its proper name, “Continuous Wave Wireless”; the ordinary system being known as “Spark” wireless (which resulted from from rapid charges and discharges of current, and so not a continuous “wave”). Several advantages of great importance in military operations were proved to belong to the new type—portability. simplicity, rapidity of assembly or dismantling of parts, adequate range, smallness of the aerial height being only 5 feet, and length 30 to 50 feet), freedom from interference by other sets within reasonable distance. The last advantage was of supreme importance, and enabled a large number of different “wave-lengths” to be employed in the same field without confusion. Of course, two stations requiring to work together regularly adopted the same wave length. Just before the Armistice minor alterations to these sets, made at experimental stations, showed the way to an efficient wireless telephone service. For artillery work this would have been of untold benefit in providing immediate information of targets of the enemy, and in giving the necessary corrections to the gunners shooting. But the climax was too swift for the laboratories. Since then the air force has obtained splendid results with this type of wireless telephony. The same was used by the airship ”R34” on its Atlantic cruise: it offers excellent opportuni- ties of use in Australia for back-country station life and isolated townships. The smallest power sets have transmission range up to 30 miles, whilst recep- tion is many times greater. New instruments needed operation by signallers who understood them. To supply these men Signal schools of varying length from a fortnight to several months were continuously in session in different parts of France and England: some were intensive and highly technical, others were for turning out general signallcrs; others again, like the English six months’ course, turned out signal officers from selected N.C.O.’s. Candidates were nominated from time to time from each unit to these schools; they thereby secured a practical holiday far from the little unpleasantries of more earnest signalling. In conclusion, one would emphasise the importance of the continuous need of a rapid and accurate and reliable system of communication. It has been shown how varied were the methods employed. (In the great advance on August 8 last year the early fog prevented the use of lamps, but all other systems were in full operation. Some tanks carried wireless sets, which they set up in secluded spots). Signallers were able very often to become pos- sessed of army secrets denied to those outside the temple, and this trust was worthily appreciated and safeguarded by the Australian Signal Engineers, who as a body were men of high average alertness, ability, initiative, and confidence. The primary purpose of this article is to give information of an indis- pensable arm of the forces, and the secondary purpose is to stimulate inter- est in the possibilities of Signal developments in the future Australian army. Just as the Cambridge University and Woolwich' Arsenal Laboratories and other research centres during the war met the scientific challenge of the German, so may the Melbourne University scientists play a part in evolving instruments which are serviceable in peace or war. 99

Ebe H.H.!ll).¢. in War Etme.

BY E. G. COPPEL

TRETCIIER—BEARERS! stretcher-bearers I” For four long years the cry resounded, with its peculiar mournful intonation, and at each fresh cry a squad of men came to the spot and untiringly carried on the noblest ser- vice of the war. They were of all kinds,these stretcher-bearers—tinker, tailor and ’Varsity student. And they worked like beasts of burden, forever carry- ing their battered human freight with what tenderness they might over a land pitted with shell holes and scored with barbed wire. These are the men who made the A.A.M.C. no less renowned than the combatant services. And yet they were but one incident in an organisation which spread from St. Kilda Road to the Rue de Kanga—that typically Australian street in old Peronne. An organisation which first declared the patriotic civilian fit to be a soldier, cared for his mumps and measles in Broadmeadows or Seymour, stabbed him unmercifully on inoculation parades all the way over to Egypt or England, and, having made him a person fit to die, proceeded to prevent his death at every turn from Field Ambulance to Convalescent Home. You saw the hospitals in one or more Australian camps, when you went to cheer up your budding Bill-Jim with a home-made cake on Sundays. My task is to tell you how his fellow-diggers cared for him in those anxious months after you had heard that he was wounded. You wondered if he were com- fortable, and had good food and warmth, and skilled men to treat his wounds; or if he were just left an insignificant particle of debris on the huge scrapheap of war. Let us suppose your particular Bill-Jim was a full private (there were many such) in the Nth Field Ambulance, stationed at the Advanced Dressing Station at the head of Moreuil Gully on May 2nd, 1917. He did not get much sleep that night, for before daylight a barrage opened such as British artillery till that time had longed for and longed in vain. For three hours every gun on .the sector, from the 18-pounders sheltered behind Moreuil to the big naval guns at Beugnétre, nearly five miles further back, showered its missiles on the famous Hindenburg line. It was the opening of the spring ofiensive, which was to break the great defence system, and commence a new era of open warfare. Jones on the Nth spent the w hole of May 3rd, with the rest of his squad. carrying the wounded down from the Regimental Aid Post in the road beyond Moreuil back to the A.D.S., a distance of 1% miles. What remained of the night he spent at the R.A.P., where a Battalion M.O. and his staff of six were receiving the wounded from the regimental stretcher-bearers. Here in a cramped dugout one man after another was brought in to have his wounds dressed and then be carried back to the A.D.S. A shell burst beside the stretcher Jones had been carrying continuously for a day and a half, and he felt as though some gigantic horse had kicked him in the leg. Having applied a field dressing to the wound, he lay there xnglsanother stretcher squad picked him up and carried him down to the 100

Here he was given a card, on which were written particulars of himself and his wound. No attempt was made to dress the leg, as the station was crowded with urgent cases. But he was inoculated against tetanus, and a purple cross signifying the fact was marked in indelible pencil on his forehead. He was lifted into a motor ambulance, and for the first time became con- scious that this kick in the leg was becoming “damned uncomfortable.” Of course you never could be comfortable in these ambulances, being carried along head first and bumped over every second shell hole in the road. It reminded jones of that fairy tale of the magic carpet he had read as a kiddy—only not nearly so pleasant. Queer that he should think of that now; but then he was thinking of all sorts of queer things. That fellow out- side driving the car was a digger, and an A.M.C. man, too. He couldn’t be trying to bump all those shell holes; they were good fellows, these car dfivers After about ten years, it seemed, the car stopped outside the Main D.S., on the road between Beugnétre and Vaulx-Vraucourt. Here were the tent subdivision of his own ambulance, working at high pressure. Jones was carried inside a marquee, which seemed already full of wounded lying on their stretchers. A good Samaritan brought him a cup of cocoa and some biscuits, and, best of all, a packet of Australian cigarettes. He brightened up considerably, and began to sympathise with a digger on the next stretcher, whose face was almost invisible through a mass of blood-stained bandages. “Had a rough time, Dig?” ”Yes,” was the reply, “the have smashed my new set of teeth l” By craning his head a little, he could see that the next marquee was full of wounded Huns, from whom our walking wounded were demanding “souvenirs” in a language compounded of English, French, Arabic and pure Ausnahan. A shout of anuwenmnt went up when, on the casuahy card of one Hun was found the terse inscription, “Thoroughly ratted; Nth Austra- lian F. Amb. !” In due course, Jones had his leg dressed by a white-robed M.O., who was attended by two speedy orderlies, and who looked like an angel, even when he cursed. Then back into the car for the trip down the main road through Baupaume to the 3rd Australian C.C.S. at Gravillers. This was “some- thingvlike” a hospital, with its huge marquees, capable of holding nearly a thousand men. He was carried from the car into the Reception Tent for stretcher cases— carried by bearers who had made the trip constantly since breakfast that morning, and would still be making it when daylight broke. From the Reception Tent, where he was once more identified, Jones was transferred to the Dressing Tent, where the Admitting Officer examined his leg, and voted unanimously for immediate operation. Off then to the Pre- paration Tent, where he was undressed, and made ready for the Operating Theatre. It was in the theatre that Jones first made acquaintance with a Sister, one of those devoted nurses who approached the divine more nearly than ever angel did at hlons. 'The surgeon, the anaesthefist, and a couple of table orderlies were there, too; but he paid them scant attention as the fumes lOl

began to take effect. He knew no more until he woke up late at night in the Evacuation! Ward. After breakfast next morning Private Jones was pronounced fit to travel, and was carried aboard a hospital train bound for Boulogne. During most of the journey he slept peacefully—the first real rest he had had these last three days; days so crowded with incident and excitement that they seemed like years. And yet it was barely twenty-four hours since he had been wounded, and by nightfall he would be at the base. At intervals he was given refreshment by an English nurse or her orderly ——-quite a good fellow for a Woodbine. It was dark when fie hospital train steamed into Boulogne, and, being rather tired, Jones took little interest in the ride out to the 2nd A.G.H., at Wimereux. He was interested next morning, though, to see through the window a fleet of fishing boats on the Channel. What weary months had passed since his crossing from England last winter. The next few days were full of sunshine, and, being a true Australian, our digger revelled in the civilised comforts of a base hospital—sheets, and clean pyjamas and warm water. He sent home a Field Service Postcard (a “whizz bang” or a “quick release” he called it). Do you remember the official scantiness of it? ”I am quite well. I have been admitted into hos- pital wounded, and am going on well. I have not received a letter from you lately. J. Jones. 7/5/17.” What digger ever crossed out that first sentence? As the hospital life became irksome, he would ask the M.O. each morning what chance he had of a trip to Blighty. His request was granted a week' later, when he could manage to scramble on board the hospital ship on crutches in his blue uniform with the socialist tie. He sat on deck during the crossing, watching the painted destroyers circle round their convoy, until the cliffs of England came in sight. And there, now that you know he is on the way to recovery, we will leave him standing with a heart full of thankfulness for the men and women who have cared for him, leave him dreaming of long, lazy days of convalescence among the hedgerows of an English countryside. He has still more hospitals to visit, convalescent homes and depots; but of these he told you all in his letters—all save the story of the nurse he almost married.

ElElElEl

Pl ’tDarsttg man with the £1er lDeterinarg (tows.

BY HAROLD A. W'OODRUFF. ITH very few exceptions the University men in the Australian Armv Veterinary Corps were graduates or licentiates, and so received commissions as captains on commencing their service. In almost all cases these officers had had no previous war or even army experience, and from the very beginning right to the end novel situations undreamed of during under-graduate days and in civil practice were arising and had to be 12 102 met. Initiative, imagination and resource are important enough qualifications for any officer, but for a veterinary officer, if he is to be what he should be to his unit commander, they are essential. The first new experience was to have veterinary charge of several hundred horses on a horse transport going to Egypt. The conditions under which horses are transported are about as unnatural as could be devised, especially for Australian horses. Unable to lie down, railed up in a stall under 2ft. 6in. wide, with improvised and far from perfect ventilation arrangements, and with the top of a hatch as the only exercising ground, to be carefully reserved for the sick, the animals were severely tested by a 40-50 days’ voyage from one temperate climate to another across the equator. Suffice to say that the mortality of horses transported in the first expeditionary force from Australia was the lowest ever recorded, amounting to less than 2 per cent. on a total of over 5000 horses. For this the veterinary officers are entitled to great credit. In Egypt another new experience was the handling, management, and treatment of mules. The mule appears to have a psychology all his own both in health and disease, and he afforded the veterinary man considerable scope for study. Incidentally the mules introduced the possibility of observing a disease of equines unknown in Australia, but not uncommon in America and in the countries round about the Mediterranean—namely, Glanders. Then again, camels, except to men from Western Australia, were known only at the Zoo or by repute. In Egypt, Australian veterinary officers had to supervise shipment, management, and treatment of camels—a task which made no appeal to any man of my acquaintance. Even the infliction of a hump (vide Kipling) has not produced repentance and reform in the camel. Two common diseases of the camel were new to Australian veterinarians——- namely, mange (corresponding to scabies of man) and camel-pox, a near relation to small-pox of man and to cow-pox. Among horses in Egypt a disease known as “biliary fever,” due to a pro- tozoan parasite of the blood, and very similar to Australian tick fever of cattle, made its appearance and gave rise to considerable trouble. This again provided a new subject of interest. The Gallipoli operations were not of a nature to require much veterinary work, and only two or three Australian veterinary graduates landed on the Peninsula. Among the transport mules there were a few casualties requir- ing attention. The Senussi expedition to the west of Egypt also employed at least one of our veterinary graduates, who did good service with a. Mobile Veterinary Section. Apart from these expeditions, veterinary ofiicers were chiefly concerned with——(1) supervision and management of large numbers of horses left behind in Egypt by Light Horse Brigades serving on Gallipoli, (2) the transport of animals to France and active operations there with the five Australian Divi- sions, (3) the operations of the Mounted Division in Egypt and Palestine. Of the “standing—by” period in Egypt little need be said. The health of the animals was generally good, and no disease of any special interest occurred. The feeding arrangements were strange to Australian animals, with barley as the chief grain ration, but horses accommodated themselves to strange diets very well and veterinary officers widened their experience. 103

With the move to France came an entirely new set of conditions. First as to organisation. With the Headquarters of each Division was an adminis- trative oilicer—the Assistant Director of Veterinary Services (A.D.V.S.), with the rank of Major, another officer commanding the Mobile Veterinary Section, and 5 officers attached to Artillery Brigades, the Divisional Train, and other units. Besides these commissioned ofiicers there were 25 sergeants of the Army Veterinary Corps acting under one or other of the veterinary officers for first aid work. These men, with I or possibly 2 exceptions, were non- University men, and so not of special concern in this article, but a word of. praise must be given for the loyal and very valuable service they rendered in a position offering no chances of promotion to commissioned rank. The unit veterinary oflieer had as his chief work the keeping of animals in hard condition and free from disease so as to be fit for a heavy stunt: whenever required. Various contagious diseases were always liable to appear —notably parasitic mange (a very serious skin disease responsible for more loss in‘horseflesh in the armies in France than almost any other disease), glanders, and a curious but very serious form of ophthalmia beginning as an iritis. Keen observation and then some amount of tact in giving timely warning and advice to infantry transport officers and artillery ofiicers in charge of wagon lines, were necessary if a good standard of mobility of units was to be maintained. Other duties Were to attend to sick, injured, and wounded animals remaining with their units, and to make the necessary arrangements for the removal of all protracted cases to the Mobile Veterinary Section, from which they were dispatched to the Base Hospital. During the various offensive “pushes” animal casualties became seri- ous. For example, during the 1918 Somme operations some of the Austra- lian Artillery Brigades had 30 per cent., others as many as 40 per cent. of their animals battle casualties from bombs, shells, bullets, or gas. As great, or even greater, were the losses in the Passehendaele stunt. At these times the small band of veterinary officers—less than I per brigade—and their sergeants were worked almost beyond endurance, and the Mobile Veterinary Section often became immobile because it was filled to overflowing. Then it was converted for the time being into a field stationary hospital. The evacuation of sick or wounded animals to the base was, however, in the main usually possible and generally well arranged. Working cases were sent by road, the horses tied in pairs on either side of a long cable and con- ducted by a sergeant and party of men of the M.V.S. On the roads were “sick horse halts” for rest each night. More serious cases were removed to hospital either by canal barges where possible, or by train, and each M.V.S. had a horse ambulance. The Divisional A.D.V.S. was responsible for the posting of veterinary officers to their units, and with movements of troops the posting had to be changed very frequently. In addition to this, many small units of Corps or Army troops not belonging to the Division had to be administered by the Divisional Staff when in the Divisional area. Thus Australian veterinary officers had to supervise Imperial, Canadian or other units, and the Australian A.D.V.S often had veterinary ofiicers of the Imperial or Canadian A.V.C. under his command. Then there was. at no time more than I Australian Base Veterinary Hospital in France, so that for the most part animals sick 12A 104 and wounded had to be evacuated to Imperial Base Hospitals with ofiicers of the R.A.V.C. This reciprocity was extremely valuable to the veterinary oliicers concerned, for it. provided interchange of experience, and appreciation of one another which, in not a few instances, has developed into friendship of a lasting kind. Turning now to Egypt and Palestine, we find that another and quite different set of circumstances faced the veterinary ofiicers serving With the Light Horse in the Mounted Division. Here there was no Australian Base Veterinary Hospital, but animals had to be evacuated to British clearing stations and hospitals. Then, too, to a much greater extent than in France, British units were under Australian veterinary oflicers. Again, the Directorate of Veterinary Services was entirely British. In view of these facts the follow- ing extract from an official publication is of interest :— “\Vhile speaking of Australian and New Zealand units it may here be remarked that the high professional standard of veterinary ofiicers of the forces of these Dominions, their devotion to duty, and loyalty to the Direc- torate has been a marked and pleasing feature in the veterinary history of the Egyptian Expeditionary Force.” This association of Imperial and Australian veterinary officers for the year of war has been a most valuable experience. Our University Veterinary School is, with the exception of the Sydney school, the youngest which has sent out officers to the British Armies, and it is very pleasing to be able to put on record the mutual appreciation and respect which has grown up between our graduates and those of the British and Canadian schools. The Melbourne school has every right to be gratified at the reception her men have everywhere received from unit commanders, senior veterinary officers and others. As in France, so in Egypt, initiative and resource in overcoming extraor- dinary situations was necessary to a successful veterinary ofiicer. Here is an extract from a letter from one of our veterinary graduates :— “Conditions for evacuating were often extremely bad. After reaching Damascus, 'for instance, 300 sick and injured horses were making the two Mobile Veterinary Sections there immobile, and as; a further advance was pending it was necessary to get rid of these animals. The nearest Clearing Station was about 350 miles away; the party detailed for the job of travelling these horses by road consisted of 100 odd Turk prisoners (as debilitated as the horses), I sergeant, and 9 troopers as escort, and an A.A.V.C. personnel of 1 ofiicer and 3 privates.” The remedial veterinary work on this front was of a very general nature. Besides sickness from various diseases the constant sources of trouble among horses and mules were debility from hard work and irregularity of food and water supplies, lameness, and saddle injuries. Shell wounds were few, but those from bombs dropped from aeroplanes were plentiful. Reviewing the work of the A.A.V.C. in general, it may be said that the emphasis was especially on the maintenance of good hygiene for all transport animals and that few veterinary officers had any opportunity to obtain hospital experience or great surgical practice. The work was more of the slow, solid variety than of the more showy kind. 105

Promotion came in the way of comparatively few men, for the establish- ment admitted the promotion of 25 per cent. of captains to be majors, while only three could rise to the rank of lieut.-colonel. Thus the material rewards were small to men who had left practices or appointments for active service. Of military honours and distinctions there were a fair number, including 1 C.M.G., 2 D.S.O.’s, 2 M.C.’5, and several mentions. Casualties among veterinary ofi‘icers in the AIR were remarkably low cqmpared with the Imperial and New Zealand services. The only officer “killed in action” was Major Cyril Robert Seelenmeyer, M.C., one of the most popular graduates the School has known, and one whose loss is deeply deplored by his old comrades. Of the total number of whole-time graduates and licentiates trained in the school since its foundation to the signing of the armistice (56), a. total of 46, or 82 per cent, have served overseas in the armies of the Empire— surely a record of which the University and its school may be proud.

[BEBE] ‘

Some fun in a War malloon.

By G. M. CRIVELLI, LIEUTENANT, F.A.S.

AR is not all tears and gnashing of teeth; fortunately there are some W jokes in it, too, not the sort one would perpetrate in. a drawing- room, perhaps, but who would want war in one’s drawing-room? The balloon service is one of those exclusive services like the tanks, about which no one knows anything except those actually in it. Consequently we often get asked to tell all about ourselves. This sounds easy, and so it is to a certain extent. \Ve are the “eyes of the army,” and therefore all that is required of us is to see. If you wish to know what we had to see, then the task of answering becomes immense, and I would have to undertake a- text book on tactics. This were tedious now' that the war is over, and I would much prefer to show the untechnical side of our lives—the side the jokes occur on. , Quiet sectors were usually the “funny” sectors with balloon men, and consequently they were the best hated by observers. In a very active sector the observer was kept busy every minute of his time, and had not a moment of worry about himself; here he was well protected, too, because of innumerable battle planes all about, keeping off the German planes, and innumerable heavy guns always in readiness to smash up aggressive enemy guns. But in quiet sectors the planes only flew when they had some special work to do, and the poor observer had to be there to keep watch all day over a sweep of country where nothing happened to divert his thoughts from the four thousand foot drop awaiting him should his bubble burst. It was in a sector such as this, near the SWiSS border, that the following “joke” occurred. 106

We called it the “Sector of Separate Peace," because the war was some- thing that hardly concerned it. On land nothing ever happened except the writing of millions of reports in triplicate about the jam ration or the neces- sity for gas-mask drill, and when the Germans did anything rash, such as firing one of their guns to see if it could still shoot, everyone would rush to the windows to see what was happening. In such a sector life would have been one deadly monotony of armed red tape, were it not for the balloons. To everyone but balloonists these were a godsend. Every fine day the bright yellow cylinder of a balloon would float.l peaceably thousands of feet up in the blue heavens, and after having dined well, the whole sector would lean against anything comfortable, and while enjoying its post-prandial cigar in the sun, would gaze with satisfied expect- ancy at the little dot against the blue. Never was it disappointed. Soon the drone of engines would come faintly through the depths of the summer haze, growing rapidly more loud and vibrating. Then would be staged one of the most spectacular little dramas the world has ever produced. The sky would become dotted with little flecks of woolly smoke, as our anti-aircraft guns got to work. These flecks grew larger and larger and broke with a lending crash as they followed the enemy nearer and nearer the balloon. Then as the planes came in sight of the naked eye, machine guns would simply rip the air with the sound of tearing of thousands of flannel shirts, and the balloon would give a plunge as its winch engine started off hauling it down at top speed. The planes would come right above the balloon, and with stopped engine, down would come the attacking one, screaming through the air like a projectile. Taking no heed of the explosives all about him, he would straighten up a little above the balloon and his incendiary bullets, like a glowing dart from some poisonfly, would show in a glittering stream for a fraction of a second. Instantly a sheet of flame would rise up, and ten seconds afterwards a large black interrogation mark of smoke, visible for miles, would be all that remained of the huge solid- looking balloon; as it slowly faded on the breeze it brought home to one with a shock the instability of earthly things——the suddenness of this transforma- tion from something to nothing had something terrifying about it. One thing remained, however—something all-important. Under the gruesome black pal] appeared a tiny white speck, growing rapidly larger and larger, glowing like a jewel in the sky. The observer had jumped with his beautiful white silk parachute, and came safely to earth, soon to be lost to sight among the trees. The whole sector would then rush to its telephone to call up the balloon company and find out if he was all right, then, feeling that it had had its money's worth, it would return once more with a sigh to red tape, and await the next day’s performance. The reason for the regular staging of this really extraordinarily thrilling drama was that on the other side of the lines was a German flying school, and, to be entitled to drive a battleplane, the student had to bring down a French balloon. Bringing down two of our balloons was considered as great an exploit as smashing three of our aviators, so nerve-racking was the plunge into the dense barrage of shells and machine-gun bullets. You might wonder why we persisted in going up in this place, but a little thought will show that 107

it was necessary. Air supremacy ishfty per cent. a matter of moral, and we could not possibly give Fritz the triumph of saying he had frightened us so that we dare not put our balloons up any longer! We were by no means passive, however. One may easily imagine how we racked our brains and planned all sorts of schemes to demoralize the students of that aeroplane school. We knew them well, those school planes. They always came by four. One of them—the student—was to burn the balloon; he was followed closely by the professor. If the student failed, the professor never did. High above flew a plane with a camera to photograph the exploit, While round him c1rcleda battle plane to keep our own airships off, should any appear. These details were learned from one who was shot down and made prisoner. We organized the most highly perfected defence. The foremost infantry observatories were connected directly with us by telephone to report when the four planes were first seen coming far across the German lines, we had as many as forty machine guns and twelve anti-aircraft guns, all experts at their jobs, but owing to the speed of the attack—the whole thing usually lasting lrom two to three minutesw—the fear of hitting the observer, and the truly extraordinary luck of the German aviators, nothing availed, and our balloon was always burned. , Finally the observers, who were getting rather fed up of parachuting as an after lunch diversion, thought out the joke. One beautiful clear day, most tempting for an attack, we put no observer in the basket, but instead we loaded it up with four hundred pounds of cheddite. This was sufficient to cause such a displacement of air as would blow the statue of liberty from New York to \Vashington. We connected this charge with a battery by a five thousand foot wire, and let the balloon up as high as she would go. The whole balloon company was in a state of hardly suppressed excite- ment. We wished we could see the expression on Fritz’s face when he should get near the balloon and the whole atmosphere would turn inside out. The most gleeful man of all was the observer who should have been up in the air—myself. by the way. I felt that this was the life. We had cameras, and even visitors specially invited to see the show. After lunch the infantry duly announced four planes crossing the lines at X We knew what that meant, and the men were fairly dancing with excitement. Our guns fired a few stray shots at them so that they would not think things were suspiciously easy, and over they came in the regula- tion manner. Finally, at an enormous height above the balloon, one of them circled twice, then the drone of his engine ceased, giving an oppressive silence, as though something had poised before striking—one has the same Crushed sensation in the heavy stillness that precedes a dreadful storm. Then we heard the scream as he rushed through the air—our guns were not firing, the men were so taken with what was coming; then he straightened Just above the balloon, perhaps fifty feet from it, and the Company Com- mander yelled “Fire 1” We all held our breath as the Lieutenant pressed the switch over. We heard the rat-tat-tat of the enemy machine gun, and saw the lightning-like stream of glowing incendiary bullets flash between the plane and the balloon, 108 then ...... the balloon burst into flame with hardly a sound, the plane flew away unscatched, and we realized that something had gone wrong and the charge had not gone off. Suddenly, like the tearing of a veil, it occurred to us that five thousand feet above our heads were four hundred pounds of cheddite with nothing to hold them there. In fact they had already started on their terrific downward journey! We all seemed to catch each other’s eye at once; some of us turned white and some red, and never in my life have I seen men run as we ran. I did not know where I was going, but it did not matter, just so long as I went. Before I had got nearly far enough to please me, I heard the whistling scream of the loaded basket, coming, seemingly, straight for my head. I threw myself flat on the ground, but my hands over my ears and wondered if I should be torn to atoms or only buried. There was a dull thud, a moment of agonized suspense, then a deep breath. Once more the faithful cheddite had failed to go off. So we gathered around and laughed at ourselves like a lot of schoolgirls. And that, at war, is what is known as a joke! I am afraid Fritz was the person really entitled to the laugh, but, of course, he does not know. The powers that be refused to let us repeat the attempt, for fear the cheddite might go ofl next time it hit the ground, and thereby eliminate a perfectly good balloon company from the French Army. Another episode which furnished our mess With matter for much ill-bred hilarity at my expense occurred in an active sector this time. It was cold as the coldest cold your imagination can conceive, and up in the air the wind was like a series of razor blades. Each breath was like swallowing a large lump of ice-cream without giving it time to melt in the mouth, and anything metallic burnt one’s fingers like fire, even through the thickest gloves. Our planes, owing partly to a series of misfortunes and partly to the cold, were unable to fly, and the artillery had some very urgent work that had to be done, so the frozen balloon was lifted from its bed, and its ropes, stiff as iron rods, were thawed out in the sun and by rubbing and heating in every way possible to soften and render them less brittle, for frozen ropes break like glass. While this was going on I put on my heaviest suit of electrically heated furs, with copper wires running from head to foot inside them. My face and fingers were vaselined, and into a large thermos flask was poured boiling hot tea with lots of sugar and a generous ration of rum. As a preliminary precaution I had eaten a large bowl of hot soup, which made me glow with internal warmth. Soon all was ready. As the balloon rose into the icy air I formed a plan of action, for I knew how temptation would soon beset my path. The work to be done would require about three hours, therefore I should leave the thermos strictly alone for an hour and a half. At half—past one it would be half-time, and I should then renew my internal heat by hot tea to keep me going the remaining hour and a half. Against that dreadful cold all my precautions seemed as nothing. At four thousand feet the wind came through my furs, and I could feel it like 109 cold water running down my spine. In an hour I began to feel the cold, and soon it was agony. I could scarcely hold my glasses, they burnt my fingers so, and the moisture from my breath was frozen in little icicles on the fur about my face. I looked at the time—only twenty more minutes and I would have a delicious hot ration of tea. At the mere thought I began to revive, the work of adjusting fire seemed terribly slow, but I would not submit to temptation, for I was not yet half finished. Suddenly in a wood, miles away across the German lines, I saw a flash like an electric spark, with a little faint puff of grey; smoke rising slowly above the glistening snow. It was a gun, of course, but for the moment I was occupied elsewhere, and could not bother with it. About thirty seconds later I heard a dull boom, followed by the howling screech of a shell. Instinctively I ducked my head, there was a terrifying crash, and as I looked up I saw, about 100 yards in front of me, the gruesome black smoke of a high explosive shell slowly dissipating in the wind, at exactly the right height for the balloon. It was not yet all gone when I saw another flash in the wood. For thirty seconds I could feel that shell coming straight for my head, then it came! This time it broke with a metallic “Ping!" followed by the buzzing of a hundred shrapnel balls as they whizzed through the air. I looked around and saw the smoke behind me. Next shot would surely be a target. It took me by surprise, for I had not seen the flash, but it seemed to explode inside my head. The bullets buzzed all around, there was a light sound of a smashing glass and the basket became filled with steam. I looked down and found that my thermos was broken, and my beautiful hot tea and rum—the careful saving up of a whole week’s ration, alasl—were spread about my feet. If the Germans had been gentlemen they would have peppered my bal- loon full of holes so that it would have brought me to the ground for fresh hot supplies. But, being Germans, they now ceased fire—I never understood why—and so I had to stay up and slowly freeze. This was made the worse because my storage batteries had got out of order in the general excitement, and so my furs were no longer heated. I telephoned down and told them I was frozen, but got no sympathy— they seemed to think that because I was not shot I should be happy. I told them with tears in my voice that my week’s ration of rum was gone, but they only laughed at me; I tried to warm myself by cursing their heartless con- duct, but if it had any effect on them it had none on me. I realized that this was another war joke! Finally, when the work was done, I had to be lifted out of the basket and massaged back to life. But at mess that night I was the butt of much ribald laughter to the tune of “\Vho stored up his rum for a week instead of drinking it like a Christian !" I think these “jokes” may give a better insight into the kind of existence we had than any dissertation on the technicalities of our work. We could not look gloomy for four years and a half, so we simply had to find something to laugh at, these examples of the “humorous” side of our lives are such as would occur at least once in every week, and in fact it is 13 110 only when the war-beast claimed a comrade for his prey that for days on end life seemed to hold nothing in it about which one could jest to hide the deeper feelings that lay beneath.

EIEEIEI

Ebe 3|=10ut before ann. August 8th. 1918.

BY J.H.BIA. T is very quiet; away on the right the sky flickers a little and a dull thunder 1 answers. But here the night is pitch black, save when a flare from the German line throws everything into dazzling relief. A tree, shattered and distorted, starts out of the blackness, and for a moment hangs like a broken cross against the glare. Nearer a few iron pickets and a tangle of rusty barb wire; and just beyond, three shapes, huddled and still, that once were men. The ball of fire hovers, and drops hissing to the sodden earth. Had it been better aimed you might have seen a trench, just a narrow gutter sunk six feet in the ground, widening at the extremities into two shell holes .. . and in the trench five men. Mud-stained, filthy, with faces covered with stubble of beard, with bloodshot, sleepless eyes—these are the real fighting men of the 20th century. Tattered colour patches proclaim them Australians, men transported half across the world to fight an unknown foe in a foreign land. Closer scrutiny would reveal them strangely restive, each man staring fixedly into the night towards the German trenches. A machine gun rests on the parapet, and bombs lie handy in niches cut in the face of the trench. For this, the hour before the dawn, is the darkest, coldest and most nerve-racking of all for those who hold the front line. But this is to be a day of days; in less than an hour the soul-shaking crash of a stupendous barrage will herald a great Allied attack. Thousand after thousand of picked, trained men will be launched against the German positions. But all this is not yet. The five grim men in the muddy trench are assailed with a great sense of loneliness—of utter isolation. Two hours ago their comrades withdrew to a position half a mile in rear. With the exception of the tiny outpost, and a similar one four hundred yards away on either flank, not a soul occupies the front line trenches. Behind the support line the storm troops are assembling for the attack, and further back still artillery and transport are making their final preparations. But these at least have the solace of action. For the lonely watchers out in front nothing remains but to wait, to keep guard until twenty minutes before the barrage falls, and then to creep back somehow, anyhow, to the rear of the storm troops. From the German trench, sixty yards away, comes the muffled sound of a cough. In the dead stillness it sounds very near. At such times as 111 these every nerve is strung to breaking-point, and imagination runs riot. All sorts of shapeless things move about in No Man’s Land. Queer sounds and noises call tor an explanation which is never forthcoming. A rustle in the darkness, and again that muffled cough, cough..... Part of the outpost’s job is to mislead the enemy into believing everything to be as usual in our line. The afflicted Boche affords a pretext for action. The lieutenant in charge of the post presses the gunner’s arm, and a second later the bang and chatter of the machine gun tends the quiet night, only to be succeeded by a more unearthly stillness than before. The officer glances covertly at his watch. Much depends upon him. He must keep guard until the very last moment. He must get his men back in time to escape the danger of their own barrage, and he alone knows the way through the waiting masses behind. All sorts of possibilities crowd through his mind. Suppose the Huns have got wind of these mighty preparations and attack first. Suppose, as has happened before, they fling a devastating bar- rage on the defenceless men crouched on the tape. Suppose they use gas. Suppose the watch, so carefully synchronised three hours before, is wrong. Suppose half a hundred things. Anyway, only twenty minutes more to wait. Suddenly it seems lighter round the horizon; the edge of the trench shows vaguely now; and from away in rear, back towards the shattered ruins of Villers Brettoneux, comes a humming, clanking sound. The five silent men look at each other; in imagination each pictures the weird, uncanny shapes of the tanks—the harbingers of modern battle, lumbering drunkenly through the darkness to their appointed positions. Closer and Closer until the noise of the great engines seems to shout a warning to the doomed men beyond, and the machine gun barks and rattles in a vain attempt to drown the sound. Gradually the light strengthens, and little white wraiths seem to rise from the ground and hover in the air—“Fog!” Is it to be an attack in a baffling, blinding mist, when men lose touch, and friend slays friend? Only five minutes before the withdrawal now, and on the instant the thud, thud of a German field battery and the whining shriek of a high velocity shell. Shrap- nel crashes and hisses over the outpost, and another battery opens up further to the left. For an appalling moment it seems as if the worst is about to be realized—that the enemy has got wind of our plans and made counter preparations. The moment to retire from the outpost is almost here, and there is barely time to reach safety before the attack begins. Bursting shells flicker through the swirling fog, now showing up white and ghastly in the growing light. The leader gives a final glance at his watch; a muttered order, and five figures rise out of the ground and stumble blindly towards the rear. Everything rests on sense of direction now; it is impossible to see two yards ahead. Fifty yards back the deserted front line trench offers Welcome shelter for a short distance. Four men slide thankfully into it, but the fifth grunts suddenly and falls face forward. A man bends over him, and rising shakes his head. One more name is added to Australia’s list of fallen. The shells are fewer now, and the fog seems to thin. From above comes the buzzing drone of a scouting aeroplane. A ruin looms up suddenly—just a Shapeless mass of bricks and tangled iron. We must turn sharp left here, and go on until we reach the iailway, or, rather, where the railway, used to be. Suddenly we are in the midst of men—dozens, hundreds of white- 13A 112

faced, crouching figures lining the white tape that is laid along the ground. .These are the storm troops who will be “over the top” in less than two minutes now. Here and there a huddled heap shows that those searching shells were not altogether in vain. On and on, twisting and turning, tripping over rusty wire and falling into mud-filled shell holes. On and on, until at last a gloriously familiar voice, and we have reached our rendezvous. It is only a shallow, disused trench, but it is home for the present. In two minutes the barrage will begin. The leader’s thoughts fly back for a moment to the empty outpost, to the lifeless body lying behind it, so full of pluck and cheeriness one short hour since, to the doomed Boche coughing in the German trench, probably thinking more of breakfast than anything else now. Half a minute more-—--ten seconds! Away on the right a machine gun opens with a long throbbing drone, and then, Ahhh—dear God! The earth seems to open and a sheet of living flame leaps across the sky. The soul-shaking crash of a thousand guns seems to burst the very ear drums and sets every nerve a-quiver. Again and again, with ever-increasing intensity, that earth-made thunder rolls from horizon to horizon. The men on the tape leap to their feet and walk leisurely forward. It is the turning-point—the beginning of the end.

EIEIEIEI

“tlntelligence” in the Great War.

BY CAPTAIN A. LAUGHLIN.

O the lay mind the term “Intelligence Corps” has represented a body of careful and industrious men whose sole function was to collect, tabu- late and map all information referring to the nation’s resources for defence or offence, and to the resources of possible enemies or allies. Apart from the fact that secret agents were employed to obtain much 01 the information desired. the layman could see nothing very extraordinary in the achievements of the Intelligence Corps in peace time. It was simply a matter of obtaining dry-as-dust information, plotting and filing it. But with the outbreak of war the Intelligence Corps assumed a new importance. Hav- ing handed over to those concerned with the fighting of the war machine a very complete and accurate summary of information concerning the enemy, it had now the very difficult task of keeping this mass of information up- to-date. This summary contained all possible information about the enemy that could be gleaned in peace time. It included details of enemy army and navy personnel lists, dispositions, recruitment areas, complete maps and reports on all roads, defensive areas, rivers, forests, towns in Germany, Belgium and France, personal studies of enemy commanders, and masses of highly technical information. It concluded with scientific reports on the ultimate resources 9 113 of the enemy in men and material and statements of the possible plans of campaign which the enemy could choose. Not only did “Intelligence" keep this information up-to—date, but it explored and opened up many new channels of information. It became the eyes and ears of the army. The Situation demanded an extended and intimate knowledge of the enemy’s actiVIty and intentions; and the Intelligence Corps, realizing this, grew in size and confidence, and in due course became a branch of the General Staff. It is to be remembered that the rosy times of peace no longer existed, that a strict censorship on all possible sources of information had been established, that the warring nations were separated by a strip of No Man’s Land or sea, the crossing of which was immediately resented by the enemy in a violent manner; that it was exceedingly difiicult for Civilians to enter or leave the war zone—in short, that a very resourceful and vigilant enemy was taking elaborate precautions to prevent the leakage of information. Therefore information had to be fought for or obtained by the exercise of guile and cunning, and all the intelligence and science that the nations pos- sessed. “Intelligence” rose to the occasion, so that, during the war, our infor- mation concerning the enemy was absolutely up-to—date, was accurate and very complete. The General Staffs of the Allied armies were kept informed of— (I) The Disposition of the Enemy.—The position of every enemy divi- sion from the North Sea to the Swiss frontier, on the Italian Front and up to the time of the Russian defection on the Eastern Front, were known. By this is not only meant that, for instance, the 93rd German Reserve Infantry Division was known to be somewhere between Lille and the North Sea, but that the actual area it occupied was known and defined, whether it was in support or reserve, or at rest in some back area, what were its duties, alarm post, its programme of recreation or training. If it were in the line the bound- aries of its responsibility, its days of relief, where and by what routes it would go when relieved were known. All this was known not merely of one division, but of the 300 odd enemy divisions on the Western Front. (We shall confine our attention to the Western Front.) This information was mapped and distributed weekly to all concerned. (2). Details of the Enemy Defences.——All enemy artillery positions were accurately mapped and defined according to calibre and activity of the pieces. Special artillery maps were used, on which not. only were individual batteries marked, but the groupings of batteries were indicated accord- ing to the probable defensive or offensive schemes of enemy artil- lery commanders. The accurate work of this special department of Intel- ligence accorded in a great measure for the effectiveness of our counter battery work during the last two years of the war. Knowledge of the enemy‘s defences, however, was not confined to a detailed knowledge of the positions, calibre and direction of fire of his artillery batteries. It incléded equally accurate information concerning his machine gun and trench mor ‘1' positions; and his lines of communication, including strategic and light railways, trench tramways, roads suitable for heavy motor traflic and those only suitable for horse transport, infantry roads and tracks, refilling points, railheads, engi~ 114

neering, artillery and ration dumps, ordnance depots, headquarters, hospitals, camps, billeting areas. Information was also obtained on special systems of enemy defence—-barbed wire entanglements, their extent and “holding up” capacity, “pill boxes,” strong points, tank traps, communication and fire trenches, overhead and underground telephone or telegraph lines, tunnels and all positions incidental to stationary trench warfare. (3). Miscellaneous.v—Ariny lists were kept up to date, and personal notes on enemy commanders, even in some cases down to company commanders, were revised and enlarged as information came in, so that those who were interested could learn whether such and such an officer cultivated moustaches, what his subordinates thought of him, whether he was a “dug out” king, what his attitude upon political or other questions of the day was. The foibles, inclinations and idiosyncrasies of the members of higher commands were known, so that often it was possible to gauge their actions under certain sets of circumstances. All details of enemy equipment and ordnance were kept up to date. A new type of gun would be known and located within two days of its first shell crossing No Man’s Land, sometimes even before it fired its first shot in anger. An army book was periodically issued by Intelligence containing in great detail all information concerning enemy personnel, equipment, ordnance, and resources in all branches of the army. This secret publication was almost as complete as any similar publication on the British army, written by a member of it, could be. In addition to the above important matters, Intelligence amassed a vast amount of incidental and interesting, though comparatively unimportant, material, all of which was logged and filed for reference. The question naturally arises, “How in the face of the obvious difficulties was all this accurate and complete information obtained.” Before dealing with another function of Intelligence, wherein its fallibility was most evi- denced, I shall attempt to answer that question. Intelligence in the British Army is a branch of the General Staff, which is divided into three branches. (1) CLS. Training, concerned with the training of troops for the battle. (2) (LS. Operations, concerned with the battle and all the movements prior to and after the. battle. (3) 0.5. Intelligence, concerned with collection and distribution of information about the enemy. The first two branches are concerned entirely with their own troops. The third group is concerned entirely with the enemy, and endeavours to obtain as complete information about his movements and intentions as the other branches have about their own army. The Intelligence Branch itself is sub-divided into three sub-branches. (I) I(B). Dealt with contra-espionage. It will suflice to merely touch upon the first two sub-branches, as we are concerned mainly with I ’(G). (I) S(T). Dealt with contra-espionage. Very few people in France, either soldiers or civilians, knew that the whole of the war zone in France was divided into contra-espionage districts, with adequate and competent staffs of contra-espionage police; and that every town or village had its quota of vigilant secret police, whose purpose and identity were not known even to the French Villagers with whom they lived 115 and became so friendly. Nobody would suspect that stupid-looking English soldier left behind to guard some regimental stores in a village well behind the lines, whose only social ambition was to increase his smattering of French, to be an accomplished linguist, whose real object was to know the identity and purpose in life of everyone living or entering the village. His periodic and extraordinary reports to his superior officer would have left no doubts as to his usefulness in the war machine. (2) I (T) was concerned with information concerning enemy war trade. The duty of the staff of this branch was to collect and examine all enemy material which might have any bearing on enemy industries and trade re. lations. The blacklisting of many firms of neutral countries and the examination of the trade relations of British firms suspected of trading with the enemy were the direct result of the activity of this branch. The discovery of a case where the materials supplied by a British firm to the Germans were utilized by them in the building of “Pill Boxes" is illustrative of this branch’s investi- gations. The discovery of the use of the fibre of the common nettle by the enemy as a substitute for cotton also stands to the credit of this branch. Other numerous and interesting examples of the function of I (B) could be quoted. Now we come to the branch with which we are most concerned, I (G), or Intelligence with the fighting forces. Its work was always of the most immediate value to the army. The sources of I (G) information were many and varied. They include such sources as—(I) Secret agents, (2) aircraft, (3) ground observers, (4) prisoners, (5) documents, (6) listening and wireless sets. (1) Secret Agents.——One is unable to speak with much authority on this head, for the machinations of our army secret agents were, for obvious reasons, only known to a select few. Such information as we received from this source bore only the mystic words, “secret agent,” and was franked by the headquarters of a higher formation; and it may be said that this informa- tion, in most instances, was only of confirmatory value. Anything of extra- ordinary value or importance would be communicated only to the supreme war chiefs, and to them alone, and the origin of the information would remain with them. This also for obvious reasons. Much confirmatory information as to the movements of troops in rear areas was received frm this source, often, however, too late to be of value, {or information once obtained by a secret agent had to be forwarded to the right quarters, and that often meant a considerable delay. An account of some of the means whereby our agents were successful in penetrating enemy territory would provide some thrilling reading. Aeroplanes were even used for dropping agents in enemy territory and picking them up again on the completion of their duty. (2) Aircraft.—Information obtained by the Air Service was of the highest importance and accuracy. The aeroplane provided a means whereby a close reconnaissance by skilled observers could be made of any area, however dis- tant. Air observers were trained to develop the bird sense of sight, and to correctly interpret the evidences of human avtivity spread below them, so that 116 where the untrained observer would see merely patches of bare earth, the trained observer would see signs of activity and portents pregnant with meaning. This war has spelt the doom of cavalry for reconnaissance purposes, unless military science, in order to keep the game going, makes the heavens impassable. Aerial photography reached a very high grade of perfection. The whole of the enemy forward defences were carefully photographed at least once a week, so that a close watch could be kept upon the enemy’s activity in the maintenance of his defensive works. In short, the careful and continuous study of aerial photographs enabled us to immediately detect any change in the enemy’s domestic routine, to assign causes for such changes and, if necessary, to take steps to frustrate the enemy’s designs. From the mass of information standards for everything were evolved, and thus it became easy to recognize quickly any abnormal behaviour on the part of the enemy. The study of aerial photographs needed special training, but to the practised student the whole of the ground photographed became perfectly intelligible. It is impossible to magnify the part air photography played in the war. Every branch of the service was aided. Artillery targets were accurately pin~p0inted by photogiaphs. Observations of fire were made by photographs. (3) Ground 0bservers.——All infantry, artillery and cavalry units had trained observers who manned favourable observation posts day and night. Every sign of enemy activity, even a man crossing a field five miles distanty or a chimney smoking ten miles away, was logged, positions being carefully noted with the aid of oriented maps, artillery boards and special optical in- struments. Any activity worthy of immediate attention was telephoned back to Headquarters at once, while observations of no immediate importance were collected and forwarded to Headquarters at the close of each day. There the events were studied with reference to maps, aerial photographs and previous reports of activity, and were logged, mapped and filed. By this means alone the staffs of higher functions were enabled to establish standards and thus to detect any abnormal activity immediately it occurred. (4) Prisoners.——Every division had at least one Intelligence officer with a fluent knowledge of German on its staff, and here it was that the enemy prisoner received his first official interrogation. In most cases the 1.0. knew as much about the prisoner’s unit and his oflicers and the enemy’s intentions as he himself did, and it was sometimes amusing to see reticent prisoners becoming more and more bewildered as the conversation progressed, until at last they consented to tell everything they knew, being convinced that it was already known. Some prisoners, especially officers, refused, when interrogated, to answer any questions of a military nature. They suffered nothing by this reticence, nor did it, in many cases, avail them anything, for in the prisoners’ cages or compounds further behind the line a system of “stool-pigeoning” was utilized. With every batch of prisoners in the cage would be included an Englishman speaking German like a native dressed in German uniform and knowing all the details of the regiment whose insignia he was wearing. This man's object was to strike up friendships with the occupants of the cage, and thus obtain information through confidential conversation. Many a proud German officer who managed to hold his tongue during official interrogation 117 unwittingly gave away important information by confiding in his very charm- ing companion ofiicer, who was such an interesting conversationalist and such an obvious lover of the Fatherland. “Stool-pigeons” were also used in the hospitals where wounded Germans were treated. These “stool—pxgeons” were bandaged up in a most realistic manner, and, being placed in beds between prisoners of war, were able to carry on confidential conversations with wounded Germans, thereby often gain- ing valuable information. The value of the dictagraph also was not despised. The identification of the units of prisoners of war was always a matter of the first concern. When prisoners were taken, the first thing done was to wire the identification back to Headquarters by priority wire. I think the record time for an identification message back to Army Headquarters is some- thing under five minutes from zero hour. (5) Documents.—After every engagement Divisional Headquarters used to receive limber loads of captured documents, which included every variety of correspondence from the love letter of the latest joined recruit to an enemy army order. These were carefully read through and translated. Items of importance or interest were logged and distributed. There were many dramatic cases in the war when the muddy torn scrap of paper found in the trench or dug-out and forwarded with speed to higher authority was the means of :1 minor easy victory for our arms or a bloody repulse to the enemy. The ultimate success of a certain Australian Brigade, after two failures in a little action on the Somme in the winter 1916, was due to such a find. Doubtless the enemy also was able to bring off some little coup of a like nature. Some documents were valuable from a military point of view, some re- vealed domestic tragedy, some suggested the passage of comedy, some gave us valuable detailed information, some merely suggested the frailty of human effort and wisdom, but all were interesting. Some of the most inter- esting, though least valuable from a military standpoint, were effusions from the German supreme command to the soldiers of the Fatherland, exhorting them to nobler deeds and sublimer exhibitions of courage, and always insist- ing on the fact that the German arms must triumph. These statements were intensely amusing to those who knew the other side of the picture. Here is an extract from one of them, written by Ludendorf on the 4th August, 1918, and distributed to the German soldiery on the following day. After accounting for the success of the French attack between the Marne and the Vesle on the 18th july, 1918, and dismissing it as merely a local tactical success, he goes on to state—-“The French and British Infantry generally fought with caution; the Americans attacked more boldly, but with less skill. It is to the tanks that the enemy owes his success of the first day. Those, however, would not have been formidable if the infantry had not allowed itself to be surprised, and if the artillery had been sufficiently distri- buted in depth. At the present moment we occupy everywhere positions which have been very strongly fortified, and we have, I am convinced, effected a. judicious organisation in depth of the infantry and artillery. Henceforward we can await every hostile attack with the greatest confidence. As I have already explained, we should wish for nothing better than to see the enemy 14 118

launch an offensive, which can but hasten the disintegration of his forces.” This was on the 4th August. On the 8th August, four days later, the Aus- tralians and other troops attacked in front of Amiens, and did not cease attacking and advancing until the Armistice—an effective comment on the vainglorious words of Ludendorf. (6) Listening and Wireless Sets.—-The enemy was the first to develop listening apparatus which was able to pick up telephone messages. We adopted and developed the idea. As a result the telephone was eventually not used at all as a medium for important messages in the vicinity of the front lines except for messages of a very urgent nature. Even coded messages were forbidden, for it was found possible to decode within two or three days almost any coded message. We used a B.A.B. code —a very intricate code for telegraph work, but even the key of this had to be changed throughout the army every two or three weeks, for the enemy always managed to obtain knowledge of the key within a few weeks of its use. As the enemy adopted similar precautionary measures, important infor- mation from this source was scanty. However, the listening devices were exceedingly useful on occasion, at this incident will show. It was after an enemy offensive, and we were not quite sure whether the enemy had finished attacking or whether he was merely preparing for another attack in a day or two. At this stage, one of our listening sets picked up a telephone conversa- tion between a German Company Commander and one of his Com- manders. All the conversation was harmless, except one sentence, wherein the Company Commander enquired after the welfare of the horses of his subordinate’s command. Now infantry soldiers don’t have horses, therefore the enemy holding the line at this point must have been dismounted cavalry. The enemy doesn’t put dismounted cavalry in the line when his intentions are ofiensive—he puts cavalry in the line to hold positions, thus freeing infantry for offensive action elsewhere. Therefore, it was deduced that the German offensive at this point had finished. Our plans were accordingly modified, and subsequent events proved this deduction to have been correct. Wireless played a big part in the war, but it was not till late that Intelli- gence seriously attempted a location and classification of the station calls of the enemy wireless system. Classification schemes were worked out, and the enemy stations grouped accordingly. The whole of this work was of a highly technical nature, and the results were of the greatest importance. This knowledge of the organisation of the enemy’s wireless communications was zealously guarded by us, in order that the enemy might not learn the amount of information he was giving away, and thus deprive us of a profitable source of intelligence. He endeavoured to camouflage all his other preparations for attack, but though he certainly took the precaution of limiting the use of his wireless sets during preparation, he made no other effort to camouflage the system, which was fortunate for us. Thus very briefly has been outlined the general sources from which I.G. obtained its mountains of material. The information once obtained had to 119

and distributed to be sorted, related to other information, logged, mapped . everyone concerned. incidentally But Intelligence had another function—one which has been of reading the signs touched on at the beginning of this article—the function this function Intelligence of the times and correctly interpreting them. And however, was the most com- carried out with excellent success. This duty, be easy to collect informa- plicated and difficult of all, for though it might to read the ultimate object tion and interpret it, it was much more difficult he might concentrate troops of the enemy Supreme Command, knowing that existing dumps, and estab- at one point, strengthen communications, enlarge us and striking elsewhere. lish new ones with the sole object of misleading Belgium during the was done in the early part of 1918. Our troops in This 3 months be- latter part of the winter were kept standing to arms for about of attack. cause of enemy concentrations in that sector and other indications vive by similar The French in the extreme south were also kept on the qui by obvious indications. The enemy went to considerable pains in this sector, with his movements of men and transport too and fro, to impress the French astride preparation for attack. The attack came on the 2151: March, 1918, this point. the Somme, with subsidiary attacks later both north and south of But for this element of fallibility on the part of our Intelligence and the enemy’s, doubtless the war would have been won by the last man in Europe left standing.

ElElElEl

Ht fiea.

BY K.H.B. weakly T was interesting to watch the sentry on the fo’e’s’le. He staggered on to a capstan, and leaned heavily against it; his rifle crashed unheeded was im- the deck. It was the first night out from Melbourne, and he service. But pressed with the responsibility attaching to a guard on active terrible of sentry was under compulsion of a force stronger than the most the and Sergeant-Majors. There was a heavy beam sea running in the Straits, his soul was disturbed mightly within him. in Twenty-four hours ago they had sung “God Save Our Splendid Men” he the church, and the Great Adventure appeared in rosy tints. To-morrow, are you had thought, he would be free of that haunting question, “VVhenI away?” And now, he was away—but he was very unhappy. There going are and didn’t seem much glory in it after all. Romance and seasickness sentry always will be incompatible. It was very interesting to watch that on the fo’c’s’le. and their Three days later, when mest of the troops had got their sea legs hammock, land appetite, and had learnt the way not to get in and out of a any things went merrily. The big Bight swells rolled on endlessly, making in 120 promenading hazardous; meal-times were especially eventful. But woe to the inexperienced mess-orderly. Some luckiess youth would appear at the top of the companion ladder with a dish of porridge under one arm, and a bucket of tea in the other hand. Three steps down the boat would begin to roll over. So would the mess-orderly. He would pick himself up at the foot of the ladder; he couldn’t pick up the breakfast. The table next door would see the joke, but his own wouldn’t, and for several minutes he would receive useful advice. But even when the dangerous passage from the galley had been negoti- ated, the fun was by no means over. The eorporal’s tea would gallop down the table till it collided violently with Johnson’s stew, unloading itself in the middle by way of gravy, and then Johnson would have to be pacified. Or perhaps, at dinner, a plate of pudding suddenly slipped from its moorings, and entered in the scuppers, followed by a comprehensive curse. The mess- orderly, whose dinner was not yet served, would see most of that game. In the Indian Ocean, as the line approached, it grew calmer, and warmer every day, and one garment after another was relegated to the kit-bag. Life settled down into an easy routine. The sergeant lectured on gun-laying to a group of recumbent figures, with the prospects of leave in Colombo as a text; some energetic maniac skipped ceaselessly; the bells marked the long hot hours. Men grew restive, and grumbled at trifles. To start with, there was the Provost-Sergeant. He never put anyone in the guard-room, but he wandered round the boat continually, uttering a never-ending cry, "Get orf that ’atchl Get orf that ’atch.” It was more insistent than the clamour of “card or book” in Melbourne streets on race days; it had ceased to be amusing, and only irritated. The Provost-Sergeant was not popular. Very few oiiicials who do their job in the army ever are. Then there was the daily inspection, which, like textobooks, was a neces- sary evil. The trumpeter struttcd along in advance, vigorously calling the crowd to attention, secure in the immediate presence of the ’eads. (It was the trumpeter's triumph, and he made the most of it. He always blew “reveille” at grave and imminent risk of a long swim.) In his wake fol- lowed the triumphal throng, including everybody on duty, from the Colonel to the Corporal, each peering around like the villain in the melodrama. While yet a great way off, the Commander espied a spent match lying in a corner. The procession halted, and looked grieved. The skipper pointed It out to the QC. Troops, who seemed vexed, and indicated It to the 3rd officer. He frowned, and told the Orderly Officer; the Orderly Officer passed It on to the Sergeant-Major. Finally, the Orderly Corporal sent a fatigue party to re- move the offending article, and the procession would move on. But when it was rough, it was a glorious sight to see the un-nautical part of that line try- ing strenuously to preserve its dignity! The great outlet for pent-up energies came when King Neptune and his Court accepted the homage and fealty of a selected few, on behalf of the Great Untravelled. One after another the victims were ranged before the hairy and foamy monarch, regardless of rank or age. Their hair was lubricated with grease and soot; they were lathered with a putty-like mixture of flour and water; they were shaved by a repulsive fiend, with a wooden razor 215 big as a scythe. Then they were propelled into a canvas mess, that had been 121 clean. AfterwardS, there was a nasty mess, which the A.S.C. cleaned up with a bad grace. It was a ceremony that will stick in the memory like the sooty grease in the, hair of the unhappy. ' . For some days after leavmg Ceylon, the Ship was in the path of the mon- soon- Portholes and hatches were closed day and night, and it was too rough to sleep on deck. One youth tried it.. He woke to find himself in the scuppers, just in time to see his hammock m the trough of the last wave but one. Viewed from the companion ladder, the troop-deck was a strange sight. In between the forest of swaying hammocks were visible the sweat- ing, tense faces of those who sat at the mess-tables, trying to find some news to evade a vigilant censor, or calculating whether crown and anchor was as profitable as it was cracked up to be. Clustered like swarming bees round one hatch, boxing enthusiasts expressed an unlovely opinion about the reteree. On another hatch, a group at the piano shouted ecstatically the chorus of “If you were the only girl in the world.” There had obvioust—very obviously—- been pickles for tea, and their pungent odour, mingled with forbidden tobacco smoke, still burdened the hot, clinging air. Truly, if Dante had ever been on a troopship on a tropical night, he would have revised his conception pf the Inferno. And yet, there were many compensations. There were lazy hours of dreaming; there were the cloudless tropic nights, when the boat rocked gently, like a cradle swinging to rest. There were the burning stars, and the phosphorescent constellations that leaped and blazed in the dark, restless ocean, falling away from the bows in a brilliant cascade, leaving a starry wake. The hiss and rush of the sea as the vessel passed became a part of the subconscious self, as did the steady patient throbbing of the screw. There were the glories of the equatorial sunset, and the splendours that came with the dawn. So now, with the menace of exams. drawing closer, when the brain reels before the mournful and ever-increasing pile of untouched notes, it is hard to recall without regret all that it meant when you headed your letter “At Sea.’) ‘

Ellilillil

the mover patrol.

B! E. O. HERCUS. HEERE have in the past been few links between the Navy and the Univer- sities of the Empire. Except for the doctor and the naval instructor. who enters the service as a university graduate, the R.N. officer re- ceives his highly-specialised training at one of the naval colleges, which he enters at an early age, missing the opportunity of both public school and university. Since the war something has been done to bridge the gap. Four hundred naval ofiieers have attended special courses at the University of Cam- bridge, and have taken their part in the university life, giving to it and receiv- ing from it something of value. 122

The R.N.V.R., which before the war was little more than a name, devel- oped into an important branch of the service; and while it comprised princi- pally men who were chosen solely for their knowledge of the sea, it included in its numbers, both as ofiicers and as ratings, not a few men of university training, especially in the signalling Branch and on scientific work. With the development of special apparatus came a demand for men of tech- nical training, and many, who “did not know one end of a ship from the other,” were able to carry out useful work and relieve the pressure on the officers of the R.N. It was the privilege of the writer to be associated with the Dover Patrol for two years, and to see something of the important work which it carried out. It is known popularly for the blocking of Zeebrugge and Ostend last year, but too little has been heard of its other normal work, which, apart from these two raids, would have earned for it no mean place in the story of the war. Among the most important activities were constant offensive work against the Belgian Coast batteries and submarine bases, the protection of the many transports and hospital ships that crossed from Dover and Folkestone, and the holding against the submarine of the narrowest part of the straits, the Folkestone—Grisnez line. It was not work for the battleship or cruiser. The big guns for the bombardment of the coast were carried by the shallow draught monitor—the largest appropriately-named Erebus and Terror. A few “flotilla leaders" headed the list of the destroyer flotilla, but Dover was remarkable for the number of small craft, each type with its own purpose and its own distinct organisation—-paddle-steamers and trawlers for mine sweeping, motor launches, manned by the R.N.V.R., many of whom were from the Dominions, and the small “coastal motor boat,” which had the speed of an express train. In the bombardments of the Belgian Coast towns the motor-launch had the dangerous task of providing the smoke screen behind which the monitors fired. This they did so efficiently that on one occasion the Dutch papers stated that the British bombardment had been carried out under cover of a dense sea fog. The effectiveness of the smoke was largely due to the advice of one former Australian professor, and another developed several important devices for offensive and defensive work. Destroyer officers had no light job, often doing double duty—escorting troops by day, on patrol at night, with always the chance of meeting a hostile force on one of its cut-and-run raids. Destroyer encounters were not uncom- mon. Dover was lit up early one morning by star-shell; enemy destroyers had entered the Straits, but the “Broke” and “Swift” accounted for two of them, the former ramming its xictim and repelling a boarding attack with revolvers and cutlasses. A division'led by the “Botha,” South Africa's gift ship, had a similar success against destroyers attempting to bombard Dunkirk. The enemy submarine found reason to consider the area unhealthy without the blocking of their bases; their work was very considerably hampered by the operations in the Patrol area, and it was no uncommon sight to see a little group of prisoners landed at Dover and driven off to the station. News quickly spread in the town, and word went round that another submarine had been accounted for, but there was never any demonstration, and the pri- soners went through quietly to their destination. 123

But perhaps the most important task the Dover Patrol undertook was the protection of transports and merchant trafi‘ic. With an area extending from the North Foreland to Newhaven, many important cross-channel routes passed to the through its waters, and all the rnerchant traffic through the Downs Thames and East Coast ports, thh the Belgian Coast enemy bases so close, this was a great responsibility for the senior officers. So efficient were the means taken that no ship crossing with troops to France was attacked by the enemy or damaged as a result of enemy action.

Elilfillil

jfreibeits'ucbe.

BY A. G. GUT'I‘ERIDGE.

HE prisoner-of-war camp of Altdamm is situated at the base of the Pomeranian Sea, seven miles SE. of Stettin. When drawing up plans of escape the first consideration was the direction to take. By means of maps and by questioning we learnt that four ways were possible, North, South, East and West. Northwards 100 miles was the Baltic Sea, with the Danish island of Born- holme 70 miles from the German coast. It was necessary to cross this in one night, as an aeroplane patrolled this part every morning at daybreak. Des- troyers and sentries on shore had also to be passed. \Vestward 325 miles \\ as Holland. Long stretches of moorland had to be traversed north of Berlin with scarcity of water. Food would have to be carried for 20 days. At the mouth of the Ems, near Holland, we would have to cross several large swamps and canals. The border was guarded by sentries, patrols, and dogs. Southward 650 miles through Austria we could reach Switzerland. This route is very mountainous, but lay mostly in the country of the Bohemians, disaffected to the Germans. Eastward 250 miles was the Russian front. This route led through vast forests—mostly the hunting reservations of the Kaiser—and several large rivers would have to be crossed. After that was the problem of crossing over the German trenches. We decided to try the Baltic route. By stinting ourselves we saved up sufficient biscuits for 15 days, and bought some chocolate from the French. Water bottles we obtained from a German, as well as full-sized army maps, of the whole district. Civilian clothes were unobtainable, but we managed to buy a compass and files. To get directly out of the camp seemed impossible, the whole area was enclosed in a double fence of barbed wire, with sentries every 30 paces outside. Electric lamps illuminated the whole. But every Saturday a party was sent under guard to the dentist at the neighbouring village of Finkenwalde. \Ve— 124

an Englishman, a Frenchman and myself—managed to get ourselves included in the party. Under our overcoats we wore vests, with the biscuits sewn to the inside. This increased our bulk, but escaped notice. At Finkenwalde we were marched into the dentist’s waiting room, but slipped out while the sentry was not looking. Dodging round the house, we crossed some open fields and took to the woods. As we entered them we heard shouts behind, and saw several soldiers pursuing us. We doubled on our tracks and hid in a thicket till nightfall without molestation. Before we could turn northward we had to make a circuit of the camp, clearly visible by its lights. At first we did not dare follow the railway, but took to the woods and bye roads, but found these far too winding. The whole of the country between Altdamm and the Baltic is covered with fine planta- tions, with only a few scattered villages on the more fertile parts. We met several people during the night, but they did not speak to us. We soent the day1n a thicket and escaped notice The next night was more lively, every village keeps multitudes of dogs, which set up a terrible din on our approach so that each made necessary a detour and consequent loss of time. Fresh water was also hard to find. Eventually we left the roads and took to the railway, where the going was easier, though stations and road houses had to be circumnavigated. T’hat morning it commenced to snow, and we camped in a hay rick just outside a village, as the warmest place we could find The snow ceased at midday, and in the afternoon some children playing in the hay stumbled across us. With a yell, they ran for the village, which turned out en masse. But we kept our start till we managed to hide in some woods. The next night the Englishman had to drop out, as he was too weak to proceed. The stagnant water we had been forced to drink had rendered him feverish. He was picked up by the local policeman. Still following the railway, we passed through Kammin, on the Baltic, and turned eastward. On the fourth night we arrived at a place named Hatt directly opposite the island of Bornholme, and proceeded to scout. Several sailing boats were noticed on the shore, but without sails or masts, and each was securely locked to a line running to a stout tree. Sentries patrolled the shorein pairs every half hour. The fifth night seemed propitious; the wind was off shore, and the sky was dark. Sails, mast, and oars were found leaning against a farmhouse. These we commandeered. After watching a patrol pass. we began to file the lock. Ha1dly had we started when we were disturbed by a loud shout from behind. Examining, we found ourselves surrounded and had perforce to give in. We learnt afterwards that we had been reported the night before, and that they were expecting us that night. They treated us courteously, and were given a square meal before being lockedin the coast guards’ barracks for the rest of the night. Next day we were returned to Altdamm, where we were rewarded with three weeks’ confinement. Our next attempt was towards Holland. In order to be sent some part of our way we—two Englishmen and myself this time—volunteered to work at a village named Locknitz, 70 miles from Stettin. To allay the suspicions of the guard we worked hard for three weeks in the fields—12 hours a day. One Sunday we had the food we had collected in the yard behind a pile of 125 boxes, and after. roll call that night managed to slip away and mete our- selves there too. At first the sentry on duty was very viligent, but the second relief went to sit by the fire in the kitchen. Noiselessly we slid through the barbed wire and crawled through a potato field until we were out of hearing. Keeping away from the villagetwe turned westward and followed the main road. A party of soldiers returnmg from the next village startled us, but we ran the fastest. As we were expectmg to be tracked with dogs, we waded through a swamp, and we learnt later that this was effective, as the dogs only followed us this far: Nothing very excitmg happened the first four days. We were forced to pass through several towns at night time to avoid the rivers and canals, but were not noticed. We followed the railways principally, covering 20 miles each night, and lying hidden in the woods each day. Water was plentiful, and the fruit in season. This country is more cultivated, and more thickly populated than in the north; but the dogs seemed less lively. The fifth night had been wet and and drizzly, and by morning we were damp and cold. Leaving the railway, we entered a wood and lit a small fire in a thicket just as the day was breaking. Before the water could boil 3 man appeared with a revolver conspicuously displayed. He demanded who we were, and evidently our accent betrayed us when we essayed some excuse. He ordered us to follow him, but we refused to budge until we had had Dur tea. At first he stormed, but eventually calmed down and chatted with us about the war, and accepted a mug of tea. 1 He marched us round the thicket in which we had lighted our fire, and here we discovered a country house of fair dimensions, 01 which this man seemed the caretaker, He locked us in the cellar and pet his wife on guard while he went to the village to summon help. \Vith our knives we forced the lock and bolted through the house before his wife finished wondering which end of the revolver to shoot through. Jumping through a window, we saw the whole village coming towards us. They started running on seeing us, but we escaped into a plantation and hid in a big tree all day. It was not by any means a comfortable seat, and we did not dare go to sleep. We saw several people pass beneath the tree as they searched for us, but they did not observe us. After dark we set out again, and found the plantation was picquetted. We essayed to crawl through a cornfield, but were discovered in the brilliant moonlight. We made a run for it, and, the sentry’s shots fortunately missing, we got away again. On the seventh night we were nearing Neu-Strelitz, in Mecklenburg. This is a garrison town of fair size. This night, while searching for water, we came on an unoccupied shanty near the railway, from which we'commandeered some bread, fruit, and coffee. \Ve camped in the woods near by, but were very thirsty, as we had not been able to find water that night. This at last forced us to scout, and we were drawing water from a well in somebody’s back yard when we were‘ discovered. Although we again got away, the owner rang up the barracks, where already a complaint had been lodged from the first house we visited. The whole regiment was turned out to search the woods, and although we saw them Coming and tried to evade them, We Were at last surrounded. 15 126

Our hands were bound, but we were well treated, and the men joked with us on our. appearance. ., The whole town was decorated in honour of the taking of Galicia, and everyone was in the streets when we were marched through Neu-Strelitz— the colonel and band met us and paraded us through the streets. Three of us—dirty, unkempt and tired—in the centre of the regiments. One girl threw us a rose, which a soldier picked 11p and put in my pocket. We were locked in the barracks all night, and next day were returned to Altdamm, greeted this time with a trip in the dark cells on bread and water.

EEElEl

Ebe mistorical Resectattons of Ealtsbutg plain.

BY F. W. EGGLES’I‘ON. ALISBURY Plain was the habitat of the Australian Troops in England {or a very considerable period, and memories suggested by their stay there should be included in any publication intended as a souvenir of their war service. To most Australian soldiers it was a waste, bleak, and muddy in winter, dusty and uncomfortable in summer. Life, far away from the centres, was dreadfully monotonous, and it is no wonder that to adven- turous spirits absence without leave was a necessity, a District Court Martial a pleasant piece of excitement. And yet Salisbury Plain had interests which would have appealed to a considerable proportion of the men. I left it with not a few sighs of regret, and whenever I think of it agreeable memories crowd into my mind. From the historical point of view, it is the most fascinating area in Great Britain. The battleground of the pre-historic races, of the Celts and Saxons, and later of the different Saxon Kingdoms, it has retained on its surface more memorials of the past than almost any similar area in the world. The Digger is not an historical student, but he does not lack imagina- tion, and if this interest in his life had been cultivated a larger proportion of men would have had pleasant recollections of their stay there. The most wonderful feature of the Plain is its unchanged character. You saw there a strip of country which had altered very, very little in the space of 5000 years, and where each alteration could be traced by memorials of some kind in the country side. If you take a parish plan of any district within fifty miles of Melbourne and bring it up to date you will get a bewildering series of divisions, sub-divisions and re-sub-divisions, so that the land as now seen could not be recognised by anybody who saw it fifty years ago. But on Salisbury Plain the boundaries of the holdings are substantially the same as they were 200 years before the Conquest. The land marks on the Plain are the land marks of a settlement of Saxons who obliterated the living rem- nants of the previous civilisation and settled down to a farming existence on what was then their Western border. But they did not obliterate all the marks 127

of the previous races. At Avcbury we have the remains of a stone temple which must have been used 3000 years before Christ; and Stonehenge, s1tuated just near Lark Hill Camp, was probably erected 2000 B.C. All over the Plain you get ancient entrenchments showing that the methods of the late war are as old as the human race itself. One of the most perfect is at Silbury Hill, just behind Tidworth Carnp. Here are the remains of an old British village probably held at the t1me when the Saxons were over-running the country, and the Britons had to maintain themselves in fortified camps on the hill tops. It is a remarkable fact that the imaginative Celt invariably built on the hill tops, while the creeping Saxons usually built right in the depth of the valleys alongside water. Scattered over the Plain are the pre-historic barrows, the burial mounds of the ancient Britons. Near Everleigh, about three miles from Perham Down, there is a very large burial place which con- tains over 30 barrows. Other primeval records on the Plain are provided for by the old sunken roads which go from the old British camps on the various hill-tops. Every now and then one comes across a straight stretch of road contrasting strangely with the usual winding roads which, like an aborigine’s nose, have no particular direction. These are the Roman roads which centred at Old Sarum. One went north to Devizes, another west to Exeter, along the ridge between Hurdcott and Sutton Veney, and another ran east to Silchester, with a branch north to Marlborough running up the great drive at Savernake. The British climate favours the permanence of these historical records. King Alfred is associated with Quarley, near Perham, and had a favourite hunting lodge near Everleigh. ’1 his began the long sporting tradition of the Plain. While Old Sarum was a Norman strong- hold the field on the north, called the Tournament Mead, was one of the prin- cipal jousting places for English chivalry. In a later age Everleigh Manor was given by Queen Elizabeth to her chief falconer. In the early 19th Cen- tury, Tidworth House was the seat of a great racing family, the Assheton- Smiths. In a wood above Tidworth house a great battle took place between poachers and the gamekeepers, one keeper being killed and two poachers being hanged! At one time these woods were filled with mantraps and spring-guns. a collection of which is now contained in Pitt Rivers Museum, near Cran- bourne. At the present day the Plain is covered with horse-training establish- ments. Amesbury, one of the sacred cities of the ancient Briton, was recently the centre in England for the training of greyhounds. In Saxon days the fields were split up into narrow strips allotted to dif- ferent householders in the village, and the boundaries were marked by long mounds which still exist. On the hill-sides the strips were cut out in terraces called lyches, soil being carted so as to give a good depth to each terrace. These are visible in many places, a particularly good one being visible at the Overseas Training Brigade Camp at Longbridge, Deverill. The Saxon settlement consisted of a few large walled and fortified towns and a series of manors, round which a small village grew up. The Australian pastoral holding supplies an interesting analogy to the manor scheme of settlement, and probably arose out of similar conditions. In the series of trades and occupations which are associated with a sheep or cattle station—those of the overseer, bookkeeper, blacksmith, carpenter, storekeeper—you get the same sort of thing as in the case of Chamberlain, the bailiff, the ploughmant thlfi hog- 3A 128

keeper, the cowheid, and the bee-keeper of the Saxon manor. When William the Conqueror conquered England he distributed these manors amongst his soldiers or personal adherents in such a way that no land owner had a big aggregation of property in one place. It is interesting to see in the Dooms- day Book the list of tenants to whom manors were distributed by William the Conqueror. Nigel the Physician. and Waleran the Chief Huntsman, are two of the biggest beneficiaries in W'iltshire—Nigel having the manor which is now Netheravon, and W'aleran occupying the greater part of the valley of the W'ylye, near Sutton Veney. The Norman Conquest led to the increased importance of the larger towns which fringed the Plain, such as W'arminster; Devizes, Andover, Amesbury, and \Nestbury. These towns were held of the King, subject to the obligation to provide the King and his suite with one night’s entertainment every year. The country town at the time of the Con- quest was Old Sarum, where a Norman castle and cathedral were built on the site previously occupied by the Romans. It was on the top of a hill, and was one of the strongest military positions in England. The monks of the Chapter found it windy and bleak, and they also found the close proximity of the soldiers in the castle somewhat disagreeable. They, therefore, dis- mantled the old cathredral and re-built it on a low—lying situation on the Avon. The choice of this marshy site betrays the tendency of the Saxon to creep, but the exquisite tower looks like the aspiration of some Celtic soul for the higher altitudes; For a couple of centuries after the Conquest the names of the great old Norman families—Bohun, Bruce, Hungerford, and Manningford—ring through the history of Wiltshire. In the civil war of Stephen, Ludgershall, near Perham Down, was occupied by Queen Maud, and when she was taken prisoner at Winchester she escaped by being hid in a cart underneath the washing: in this manner she was carried from Winchester to Ludgershall. John of Gaunt held the old royal forest of Chute, near Tid- worth, and the manor of Collingbourne Ducis, which was attached to the forest. Charles IL, after Worcester—if the traditions are to be believed— spent a considerable proportion of his time climbing oaks in Wiltshire and other counties, and was concealed some time at Heale House, on the Avon, just above Salisbury. While there he visited Stonehenge, and tried to count the stones—never getting the same result twice. Thomas Pitt occupied the manor at Stratford-sub-Castle, and the church on the Salisbury road still contains across the front “Thomas Pitt, Benefactor.” His famous son, William Pitt,‘ spent several of his early years in this house. Cranbourne Manor House, about 15 miles south-east of Salisbury, is an ancient seat of the Cecil family. It is an impressive type of medieval fortified residence, and is full of the most wonderful wood carving. The later history of the Plain does not provide any very notable names. During the tgth century it was frequently said that the British Parliament was controlled by a group of Wiltshire squires, but these men were of no greater eminence than the Hicks, Beaches, and the Walter Longs. Literary associations abound. Addison was born at Milston, near Durrington. Sir Roger de Coverley is said to have been the Squire of Durrington in the days of Addison‘s youth. We had some lineal descendants of Addison in the A.I.F., and I often used to think that Captain Lance Addison, A.P.M.. at Warminster, was himself modelled Sn- Roger de on Coverley. Hazlitt wrote at W'interslow, and frequented the 129

Pheasant Inn on the main road to Andover,_a. few miles from Salisbury. Sydney Smith lived at Netheravon, and complained that he only got butcher’s meat once a week when the man called from Salisbury. There are many exquisite impressions to be derived from the beauties of the Plain if you once get over its forbidding aspect. The Chute district— a series of villages carved out of the old royal forest with exquisite thatched cottages—is one of the most beautiful corners in England. The road right through the forest and over the Down at Conholt brings you to the highlands of West Hampshire and the deep valley of the Hurstbourne, where Jane Austen once lived. The road down the Avon from Pewsey to Salisbury, beloved of Cobbett, passes a series of beautiful villages, old manor houses and medieval parish churches, which it would be difficult to match anywhere, and a similar road down the valley of the VVylye from Sutton Veney to Wilton brings you into touch with old houses, the foundation of which took place before the Conquest. Magnificent seats of noble families can be seen at Savernake (the Aylesburys), and at Longleat (the Earls of Bath). The seat of the Herberts Earls of Pembroke is \Vilton House. It is famous for its associations with Shakespere. Shakespere played here, and Sir Phillip Sidney, a relation of the family, wandered along the meadows, The original Herbert was a shrewd-headed man, who profited from the dissolution of the Monasteries. His successors of to-day were less hospitable to the Australians than to the distinguished Elizabethans. The drives across the Plain from Tidworth to the camps were bleak and wearisome, but many weird impressions could be got, especially if you took the more lonely tracks, such as the one through Tilshead and Imber. Imber is one of the loneliest villages in England, as the couplet shows—“Imber on the down, four miles from any town.” Appropriately enough, this road through Tilshead is the scene of the Drummer Boy story from the Ingoldsby Legends. Imber, like most of the other villages throughout the Plain, is mentioned in the Doomsday Book. For ten or twelve centuries these villages have remained approximately in the same condition as they now are. The presence of the Australians on the Plain has added a new note to its history, and yet I fancy not so exotic as we are apt to think. I fancy that to the old roads and the quaint old inns the bands of swaggering, hector- ing Diggers raised memories dead for centuries. These men were far more representative than is the English villager of to-day of the yeomcn and yokels who created England. Indeed, with their burly figures, exuberant animal spirits, keen minds, and lively wit and imagination, they carry us right back to the bands which formed the retinue of the old Norman Lords or to the hilarious “Commons” who in the time of great Elizabeth‘ made Merrie England.

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Dames. (By "0 ") ADRES are men ; padres can be men of many and grievous faults, but they can also be men of most sterling character—and the majority of them undoubtedly are. Those padres whom I came to know best were men of such utterly different types that a short study of their characters might be found of interest. Our first padre I never saw at all. He had an enormous parish”——the whole of the heavy artilllei‘y of one corps——and, from what I learnt, rather preferred visiting H.Q.’s than batteries in the line. It was different with Padre Dallis—(we would give our types a name, though of course a fictitious one). He was a conscientious worker, constantly visiting his batteries and holding services. He was young and handsome, a typical Cambridge “beau." But he lacked the gift of power to deal with men ; he never attempted to make himself known to the men ; one formed the impression that he would have felt much more at home at a mothers’ meeting than he did in an ofiicers’ mess. He seemed without any defined character of any sort. For a long time I considered that he must be fresh from some “society” parish; consequently I was surprised one day when I learnt that he had enlisted at the beginning of the war, and had served in the ranks for some time-——that, at all events, was an indication of a strong character of some sort. Our next padre let us call Padre Huxley. He always appeared to one an ascetic of the sternest type, and of his self-denial and spiritual mode of living one had not the slightest doubt. But he was so hopeless in his endea- vours to promote acquaintanceship, so narrow-minded in his religion. More than all else, he seemed to lack common human nature; his cold, haughty manner seemed to say “I am a priest of God, and therefore so much better than you.” He gave excessive attention to the importance of public worship, and regarded the amount of a man’s church-going as a standard of his charac~ ter. Those who attended his services he would condescend to talk to; those who did not were irrevocably outside his fold. He entirely lacked the gift of conversation, because he so absolutely lacked anything in common with the average man. The services, too, which formerly had been eagerly at- tended, became moreand more an act of duty and nothing else; the voluntary services were practically not attended at all. There was something “dead" about the way in which Padre Huxley conducted the services, and his ad- dresses were nothing but a series of clerical platitudes, less convincing than usual, because delivered in a listless manner, which made one wonder if the speaker were himself convinced of what he said. But one padre more than compensated for the deficiencies of all the others. Padre Tobias had an interesting history. By birth he was a Jew, but he had been brought up a Christian. He had served in the ranks during the Boer war, and had been ordained shortly afterwards. At the outbreak of the war he enlisted as a stretcher-bearer, and after a long time working with a batta- 131 lion in the line was ordered back to some C.C.S. to be an office clerk; this work he heartily disliked, and he made several applications to be allowed to return to the line, but was always refused. His C.O. happened to be a very keen churchman, and, having learnt that he was a clergyman, on several occasions requested him to conduct a service. This Tobias did; but at last he went to the CO. and said to him, “You will not allow me to return to the line; you ask me to do unofficnal work as a padre: but I am .not going to mix the jobs up any more: so I shall ask you to forward my application to become an army chaplain.” Tobias was really as fine a man as one could ever meet; he was :1 Chris- tian in the truest and deepest meaning of the term———entirely subordinating the self for the great services of God and his fellow-men. He was so essen- tially a'man, and had a wonderful insight into the nature of other men. His great aim was to help others, und_to this end he worked all day and every day by visiting the units in his parish. He always came along with a cheer- ful, natural smile, and was equally ready to enter into some discussion or to chat away on any frivolous topic. Nor did he make what was a too-common mistake, that of chiefly visiting the oflicers' mess; he constantly popped in to some dugout and sat smoking and chatting with the men. He was, moreover, an essentially brave man, and the fact that one of his batteries was being shelled was a special reason for his going there. Needless to say, Tobias was deeply loved and greatly respected by practically every man in the battery. Also he conducted the services in a natural manner, which made them seem something more than mere idle formulae, without at all slurring over their solemnity or neglecting the more significant rites. He always asked the men to choose their favourite hymns, and explained the meaning of any difficult passages during the reading of the lessons. He reminded us that God is the King of Kings, and therefore if we stood at attention for the National Anthem should we not far more so do the same when reciting the Creed? His “talks," as he called them, were short and to the point, and one always went away with at least one great thought to ponder over. Tobias went the way of so many of the men who had loved and respected him—to Blighty, maimed for life. But never will his name be forgotten by those who knew him, never will the results of His ministry be efiaced.

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the moving anb JBiIIeting OI UfOODS ill Jfrance. BY J. D. R. PERI—IAPS nothing would have struck a traveller in the war zone in France and Belgium so forcibly as the fact that of the vast numbers of men, horses and guns moving about every day and every night—«by rail, by 'bus and by road—each unit had its own particular destination where it could, as a rule, be sure of finding at least a temporary resting place. We say “as a rule," because no system in those days of constant change could be abso- 132

Iutcly perfect, and everyone will remember some nights spent in a fruitless search for billets: and then to call all of those resting places “billets” was indeed paying many of them a very high compliment. The whole of this work was carried out by the Operations Branch of the General Staff—the G. staff—in co-ordination with the Adjutant-General‘s and Quartermaster-General‘s branches, the system being briefly as follows :—— The M.G. branch were concerned only in the matter of supplies of food and ammunition, and their arrangements consisted in the building up of an adequate number of railheads and refilling points, from which a unit‘ no matter where it might be, was within a reasonable distance of its supplies, The division of the war zone into billeting areas was in the hands of the A.G, staff. Roughly, if lines were drawn Westward from the extreme North and South points of the British front line to the coast, the enclosed area was the British responsibility. From this certain General Headquarters areas were taken, and the re- maining space divided more or less equally by East and West lines into army Areas. The army areas were again sub—divided into corps areas, and the latter into divisional areas. Suppose that the British Expeditionary Force in France consisted of two armies; each of these consisted of, say, three corps, two holding line sectors and one in reserve in the army rest area, while each corps consisted of, say, four divisions, two in the line and two in support and reserve in the corps rear area. Such an arrangement might exist during ordinary trench warfare; but should an attack be projected by us, or expected from the enemy on any parti- cular front, then an additional corps might be brought from an army on a quiet front and extra divisions be placed at the disposal of the corps con- cerned. The whole system of billeting was built upon the scheme of the division of the whole of the BER area into divisional areas, for a division is the smallest formation complete in all arms—i.e., it is composed of the necessary percent- ages of infantry, artillery, engineers, A.M.C., A.S.C., motor transport, etc. Thus when the A.Cv. staff of an army had been allotted an army area, its other retained a certain back area as an army rest area, and divided the re- maining country into corps sectors. The corps A.G. staff retained its corps rest area, and divided its front into as many sectors as the G. staff wished to have divisions holding the line. The divisions in their turn sub—divided into brigade sectors, and brigades into battalion sectors. Every Army and Corps rest area was divided into smaller areas, each of which would hold a composite division (say, 15,000-2o,ooo men). Each of these areas was in charge of an Area Commandant, who resided in some central village in the area. At least, officially he did, but usually he was to be found in the most congenial spot where 'he could promote “l’entente cordiale !” Under the Area Commandant there were Sub—Area Commandants, each of whom governed a billeting area sufficient to take a brigade or its equivalent (about 4,000 men). Then, in addition, in each village of any size there was a Town Major, whose official duty was to keep a complete Iist of the available 1.33

be relied upon to accommodation in that village, but who could also generally give very useful information concerning the “geography." Thus the whole of the B.E.F. area was divided into divisional areas or most of which were occupied. but some were reserved as staging sectors, and Corps topo- areas. Maps were produced from time to time by the Army graphical sections, showing these areas and giving the locations of the Area ’ Commandants. . . . At any particular moment certain dmsxons or, perhaps, a Corps (not rest often the Australian) would be found back near the coast in the G.H.Q. Corps area; other divisions would be “at rest” or training in the Army and finally Rest areas. Further up were divisions in reserve and in close support; there were the line divisions. The actual moving of troops was then carried out under the orders of the Operations Branch of the General Staff—the G. staff. Suppose, for example, it was wished to move a Division up from G.H.Q. reserve to the front line to help in an attack, or to take over some new front, or perhaps only to relieve a front line Division. The move may take place by train, by ’bus, or by a from march route. The G.S. of the Army on whose front it is to come find their A.G. staff what Divisional area is available and then send to the Division their order to move. Copies of this order are sent to the Area Commandant concerned, the Corps to which the Division is to be allotted, the Q.M.G. staff for supply arrangements, to any formations through whose area the move will take place, and also to G.H.Q. to keep them posted as to the position of the Division. It is then the duty of the Corps (3.5. to carry out in an exactly similar manner the next move forward, and later of one of the line Divisions to order the move into the line. Before each move the Division itself sends forward billeting parties, prob- ably by ’bus, to report to the Area Commandant of the area to which they are moving. He allots the billets, and so when the units arrive they are met by their own billeting parties and conducted to their billets. From this brief explanation it would appear rather a simple matter to move a Division, but to go into the many difficulties of the move would re- quire considerable space. It must be remembered that many Divisions are on the move at once, and roads must be so allotted that time is not wasted by unnecessary delays ; also, if trains or ’buses are used to take troops forward, by careful arrangement they could also be used to take troops back. In addition, as we get near the forward area, much has to be done by night in order that enemy aeroplanes may not observe any concentration of troops. In fact, towards the end of the war, no movement of any number of troops was per- mitted by day within 20 miles of the front line; but immediately at dusk all roads in the forward area became packed to their fullest capacity with moving troops and vehicles, and very careful timing was necessary to avoid blocks, Which were a death trap in shelled sectors. Movements by train, as stated above, required very careful reckoning, which was complicated to some extent by the fact that all big moves had to be co-ordinated with the French authorities. A train, in military language, is a definite thing consisting of a fixed number of carriages for personnel, horse boxes, and flat trucks for guns and vehicles. 16 134

A distinction was drawn merely between a strategic train and a tactical train. In the one men and fighting material alone were carried, and a move could be made much more rapidly than was the case with the other, when, in addition, extra kit and whatever “comforts" a unit might have could be taken on board with it. Artillery and tanks also complicated matters. They required special roads, and although the tank was quite at home on any shell-torn country, he required a bridge to cross even a small river, and a battalion of tanks took a considerable time to cross such bridges as existed forward. Unless special care was taken to cover them, the marks cut by the tractors of the tanks make their course, and hence their position, visible to hostile aeroplanes, and after each move they had to be very carefully camouflaged before dawn. In moving them up to the jumping-off line prior to an attack at dawn the Flying Corps had to be called in to render assistance. In order that the noise they made would not warn the enemy of the approaching attack, arrangements had always to be made for our aeroplanes to fly very low over the enemy lines and thus drown the noise of the tanks with tlilat of their engines——a rather “ticklish” job. This article really just touches on what was one of the most complicated of stafi duties in the recent war, but it may give an idea of how some of the difficulties of movement were overcome.

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®ur Hustralian mospttals at the mar.

BY J. W. SPRINGTHORPE, LT-COL.

Under the heading of Hospitals come— 1. Casualty Clearing Hospitals, each with a Lt.-Col., two Majors and four Captains——to receive and treat patients from the field ambulances—but during the war developing into small mobile general hospitals—scenes of the greatest stress and urgency, mostly surgical. 2. Stationary Hospitals, similarly staffed. further back, fixed, at first better equipped, also developing into small general hospitals. 3. General and Base Hospitals, further back, on the lines of communication, out of the fighting area, each with three Lt.-Cols., six Majors, and twelve Captains, full staff of nurses, personal equipment for treating 520 to 1040 patients in every respect in an up-to-date manner. 4. Auxiliary Hospitals, outgrowth of the General, at first for emergencies, then for further treatment, up to the stage of boarding for Australia, or return to serVice. Convalescent Hospitals, for convalescent purposes. Special Hospitals, for cases requiring special or separate treatment. Hospital Ships, the floating hospitals, equipped with all the “$3“? necessaries for treating all classes of sick and wounded on their return to Aus- tralia. 135

The first hospitals to leave Australia were the Ist and 2nd General, the Ist and 2nd Stationary, and the Ist Casualty Clearing, attached to the Ist Austra- lian Division. Their departure from Melbourne on December 4, 1914, on the hospital ship “Kyarra,” with some 140 nurses, IOOO personnel and every- thing, staff, food, etc, for three months’ work, is our medical “Mayflower” incident. We were members of an organization that had previously existed mainly on paper for defence only, and, though the pick of the available pro- fession, were under the governance of regulations—mot facts, and seniority, not necessarily special fitness. Once in Egypt, we came under the R.A.M.C., where these disadvantages were at their maximum, and, through no fault of our own, .we were limited in our initiative, and circumscribed in our activities, with the result that we did mnny things in a way that we did not approve of, and left many more undone to an extent that we deplored. This is no place for criticism—but the interests at stake are so great, and the results were so often marred by dissatisfaction, that it seems to me imperative at least to mention these underlying fundamental disabilities. Our work began at once. Within the first three months we at Mena had to deal with some 3300 patients, though our 20,000 troops were picked men, in a world’s sanatorium. All concerned threw all their energies and skill into the task. At the same time, we sought an investigation, obtained a Board of Enquiry, and, in due course, after the usual delay, furnished a Report, with recommendations for future guidance. Gallipoli next furnished its shock and opportunity. The report of the Dardanelles Commission, as well as our own, show how many, varied and serious were the errors of omission, and the results, necessary perhaps at times, of following pre-war regulations, and sacrificing foresight to routine. Here again, however, the work of innumerable individuals was beyond all praise. At Mudros the 2nd Stationary and the newly-arrived double 3rd General, with their imperfect resources, worked wonders. On hospital ships and transports, overcrowded with our wounded, surgeons and nurses proved themselves invaluable. On land our motor ambulance saved the situation, and in Cairo—for we never even in summer got away from its heat and sand—the two general hospitals found beds, often unsatisfactory, it is true, for all the patients that the authorities sent our way, and did the best possible for them under the circumstances. Surgeons worked hard all the time, and overtime, and physicians, showing equal skill and devotion, went beyond mere treatment, and differentiated the different forms of typhoid, dysentery, malaria, etC.. in an up—to-date manner. Going further still, unoffi- cially we fought hard and successfully for the better distribution of personal comforts amongst the sick and wounded, for more suitable clothing than pyjamas for those allowed out of hospital grounds, for ever wider provision to meet recreational needs, for official curtailment of opportunities to vice and drinking, for other foods than “bully" beef and biscuit, and for invaluable but absent requirements, such as insecticide, mosquito netting, etc., for our heroes in the trenches, of whom one in every two was sick. Then came the miracle of the evacuation, with its easing of tlfe situation. After a few months‘ rest all but the Light Horse left Egypt for France, and most of our hospitals naturally followed, leaving the 3rd General Hospital from Mudros (replaced soon after by the 4th General from Australia) at Abbassia, in 164 136 the same old heat and sand, to look after those left behind, and afterwards to win fame for their great work in Palestine, whilst the hospitals did splendid work in connection with malignant malaria, dysentery, Bilharzia, septic sores, as well as the wounded in that great campaign. It was in the midsummer of 1916 that I had, as a patient at Abbassia, personal experience of what treatment, even the best, meant in such a place at such a time. My future, however, was in the West, where I followed our main hospital stream. By the middle of 1916 our Ist A.G.H. was established at Boulogne, and our 2nd at Rouen, where they continued till the end of the war, with. their associated Casualty and Stationary units “somewhere in France.” Later on, the 3rd A.G.H., after a brief stay at Brighton, went over to Abbeville, when the submarine menace became critical, and there they stayed, leaving us—unlike all other Dominions—without any General Hospital in England. In France our hospitals were more than fully occupied whenever attacks were in progress, and one and all won a great name for the good work which they did. But they seldom received Australian patients, even though often, our men lay in a British hospital little more than a stone’s throw away— to the regret of our staffs, as much as to that of our own men. Over in England British hospitals of all sorts, in all localities — there were over 70 pages of the names only--—received practically all our sick and wounded from France, and here they remained for periods often averaging three months, and frequently much longer. All concerned regretted, but it was long before anything was done. And when a “move on” clause was finally put in operation, the stay of our own men in our own auxiliary hospitals, which‘ with staffs for operative work, were now practically general hospitals, and al- ways equal to the accomplishment of much good, became so short, that they became known amongst the Diggers as “tube stations.” It was in one of these auxiliary hospitals, Dartford, that I spent my five years in England, varied by special duty at the British, French, and Australian fronts. Being in charge of the class of cases which I was most fitted to treat——the nerve and cardiac cases—and at a fine hospital, well equipped and organized, I felt that the aim of my service was largely attained. Like the rest, we were always full, had some 1200 in at a time, and, latterly, discharged some 600 a week. From us, as from Harefield, patients would go to Weymouth, if boarded for Australia, or to one or other of the Command Depots, if con- sidered equal to duty after a certain amount of further treatment. To some extent the Auxiliary Hospitals, Weymouth, and the Command Depots thus acted as Convalescent Hospitals. In Egypt we had had four Convalescent Hospitals—Helwan, Mena (at the later stage), Ras-el-Tin, and Montazah, of which the two former proved quite unsuitable in the heat of summer. As regards speeial hospitals, these were- not nearly so thoroughly provided as amongst the other Dominions. Still we had special provision for venereal and infectious cases, Southall Auxiliary Hospital was largely reserved for the limbless, face cases went to Sidcup, and mental cases to special British hospitals, whilst at Dartford, at any rate, we had special wards for “soldiers’ heart," shell shock, and other war neuroses. After leaving Egypt, our officers, different again from other Dominions, had hospital treatment to themselves, mainly in a British hospital at Wands- worth, much to their own regret. as well as ours, though under a staff with a 137 great reputation. For convalescents they went to Cobham Hall, where they retain the pleasantest of recollections of the Way in which Lord Darnley and his Victorian Countess made them feel quite at home. Finally, as regards Hospital Ships, we had one at Gallipoli, the “Uascon,” in common with other troops, and subsequently two between Australia and England, the “Karoola,” and the “Kanowna,” specially fitted-out, thoroughly-equipped, and well-staffed, and on them returning bad cases re- ceived all the attention of a general hospital. In practice, of course, this hospital treatment of our sick and wounded cannot be dissociated from the antecedent treatment in or near the firing line by regimental medical officers, and field ambulances, and the subsequent hospital and other treatment provided throughout Australia for those who re- turned disabled. When we call to mind our casualty list of some 60,000 dead, and some 200,000 sick and wounded, even th'Pe onlooker can form some idea of the magnitude of the task thus set the Australian medical profession. Taken in its totality, and all the circumstances remembered, the record shows a volume and variety of good, even brilliant work, worthy of our men and our country. Amidst all the strain and hardship, it may be safely said that our hospitals, with all that they had perforce to endure and leave undone, proved themselves to many to be veritable oases in interminable deserts, islands of peace and safety in oceans of inconsiderateness and desolation, havens of retreat for restoration and salvation. With the personal touch) of common service, in a comradeship otherwise undreamt of, at the greatest crisis in our history, bound together in a tie that only death can break, remain the memories and experiences of the tireless efforts of the staffs, the endless de- votion of the nurses, and the sunny gratitude of the “Digger,” to whom was all so freely given, and who was worth it all.

@EEE

the Regimental flDebicaI ®tticer.

The life of a medical officer at the front was described by one of them as “a life of extreme boredom relieved at frequent intervals by periods of intense hellishness.” This expresses only part of the truth—except perhaps the second half of the description—or rather describes just two aspects of life in the front line. The hellish times correspond to the attacks made by either side and the boresome intervals to the periods between these attacks. In r916 these intervals were long, but as the war progressed our munitions ac- cumulated and our organisation developed, and they became shorter and shorter, and correspondingly more and more gratefully accepted when they did come. Often towards the end of the war these breaking spaces were all too brief. . A great difficulty in the organisation of the medical service at the front is due to the fact that during active operations, no matter how many medical I38

ofiicers there are on the sector engaged, there are not enough to do the work; and that during inactive operations, no matter how lew you have, they are more than Sui'lieient to carry out the necessary duties. li'or this reason medical otficers were, during quiet periods, seconded from their units, and detailed for duties that were not strictly medical. '1 hey were put in charge ut divisional baths and iaundnes, and often the duties of gas officer in the early days were performed by medical men. The management of a divisional baths and laundry required a good deal of work and organisation. About seven or eight hundred soldiers were dealt with' daily: each man received a complete change of clothes, and his uniform was cleaned and sterilised by ironing, and was ready for him by the time he had finished his hot bath. The clothes he left were washed, sterilised and mended. It generally fell to the lot of a Field Ambulance to carry out this work, and it was reinforced by thirty or forty women. recruzted from the local inhabitants, who did the washing and mending of the clothes. It speaks volumes for the adaptability of medical men that they mastered the details connected with the provision of darning wool, buttons, soap and soda, and the hundred and one other articles necessary for the work of this very important institution. The gas ol'licer's duties consisted in looking after all the protective mea- sures against a gas attack. This involved a frequent inspection of gas masks, sprays, gas-proof dug—outs, alarm signals, etc., in the whole of the front area, and called {or continual Vigilance. He also was in command of a “gas school,” which was part of each division’s organisation, and he was expected to obtain samples of the enemy’s gas on every possible occasion, in order to find out if a new variety was being used. All these duties, each very important, were carried out by medical men. They could be included, 1 suppose, under the term “Preventive Medicine.” It was during these comparatively quiet times, too, that the Field Am- bulances reorganised themselves, that reinforcements were trained, that equipment was gone through and replenished after each engagement, and that the whole unit was got ready to take its turn again in the forward area. The medical work during th'ese quiet periods consisted in nothing more exciting than looking after a divisional rest station, which was merely a field hospital, where men who were slightly ill were kept for a couple of weeks’ rest and treatment. But it was during periods of active operations that the medical officer came into his own; it was then that he lived most abundantly, and that he realised that all the routine drudgery he had gone through in preparation was worth while. As day after day and night after night attack succeeded bom- bardment, and counter-attack followed attack without relaxation and without a pause, and each took its toll in killed and wounded, the greatest powers of endurance, the highest qualities of mind and character were brought out. This was the medical officer’s opportunity. In the forward area the problem with which he was faced was to collect the wounded in the shortest possible time, to render first aid treatment, to take every means for the prevention of shock, and to get the men to the Casualty Clearing Stations where the necessary operations could be performed with the least possible delay. To do this was the work of the regimental medical oflicers and the Field Ambulances. 139

During heavy fighting a division would sustain about six hundred to eight hundred casualties a day in wounded alone, and these men had to be brought back to the wagon rendezvous, where motor and horse ambulances would convey them to the dressing stations. Many of these wounded men could walk to where the wagons would pick them up, but there was always a very large number who required to be carried, and the difficulty involved in transporting these men can be realised in some degree when it is remem- bered that carriage by hand hat] to be relied on almost entirely. In many areas there were tramway lines, but these were being continually destroyed by shell fire, and it was necessary to fall back on hand carriage, This involved a carry of a mile or more, partly down a communicating trench if such a thing existed, or across country torn up by shell fire, and, if the weather had been bad, literally feet deep in mud. Further, this had to be done under more or less hieavy fire, but fortunately the Hun was a moderately methodical beggar in his habits, and generally put down his barrage about the same time each day, so that the worst of the shelling could as a rule be avoided. The actual carrying, of course, was done by the stretcher-bearers, but the organisation of the collection of the wounded, and their evacuation, devolved on the medical ofi‘ieers, whose duty it was to see that the bearers were dis- tributed to the best advantage, that the routes taken were the least dangerous and the best. that the wounded did not accumulate at any place, but were steadily and systematically carried to the rear, and that the bearers were used to the best advantage with a minimum of waste of man power. The medical ofiicers were stationed in dug-outs more or less shell—proof —generally very much lesswalong the routes of evacuation. The regimental M.O. always found himself right forward; his headquarters and aid post was one of the few dug-outs not completely destroyed by shell-fire, which he shared with several other officers, and perhaps part of the battalion adminis- tration. Here he lived and moved and had his being while his battalion was in action; he had to be available at every minute of the day and night, and he was responsible for collecting all the wounded of his unit, and for sending them to the rear. The conditions under which he worked baffled description; the battered trenches, the filth and the mud, the continual shelling and the utter desolation must be experiencd to be realised, yet in the midst of all this the regimental medical officer dressed the wounded, applied splints to broken limbs, and got the men to the rear as opportunity offered. On him devolved a great work and a great responsibility, and all who are in a position to know agree that none carried out his duties with more complete unsclfishness of purpose, with greater heroism, or with more marked success. Thie Field Ambulances then took over the Charge of the wounded. 'The headquarters of these units were, as a rule, several miles behind the front line, in a place which was supposed to be immune from shell fire. but which generally wasn’t, and here the dressing stations were formed. sing fairly large places, they came in for their share of attacks from the air. which were such an important feature of the later stages of the war. All the wounded of the division passed through the Field Ambulances. Here the wounds were dressed, urgent operations, such as those necessary to stop haemorrhage, were performed, the wounded men were well fed-—an item in the programme 140

which was most popular as a rule——and as soon as they were sufficiently rested they were sent to the casualty clearing station for thorough surgical treatment. If work at a dressing station was performed under better conditions than prevailed further forward, it was no less strenuous. The stream of ambulance waggons “as almost continuous; wounded men poured in at one gate, and out of the other poured men who had been fed and rested, and whose wounds had been attended to. The flow of wounded through the station never ceased, and those who know anything of treating injured men, even in a well-equipped hospital, can imagine the work involved in attending to several hundred more or less badly wounded soldiers, exhausted, and covered with mud and dirt of the battlefield. But this sort of thing went on day after day, and only ceased when the division, or, rather, all that was left of it, was brought out of the line to rest and reorganise, only that it might go in again. One got used to the beastliness of this sort of thing, the horror of it ceased to nauseate, and the insanity to appal; but what was ever new, and what will remain as a lasting and priceless possession, was the splendid spirit of eomradeship which was found everywhere and under all circumstances. If nothing else had been won in this war, that alone had made it worth while to those who experienced it.

EIEIEIEI

Ehe H.R.m.¢. in Einai anb malestine. (By R.M.D.)

WHEN the infantry left Egypt for France, the medical units remaining with the Light Horse were the Ist, 2nd and 3rd Light Horse Field Ambulances, which had just returned from Gallipoli to their horses. and the newly formed Anzac Sanitary Section. These, with a New Zealand ambulance and the A.A.M.C. details with each regiment, Comprised the medical units of the Anzac Mounted Division. Early in 19i7 the 4th L.H.F.A. and 8th Sanitary Section were formed, and, with the 3rd L.H.F.A., became part of the Imperial (later Australian) Mounted Division, which also had an Imperial Ambulance. In June, 1917, the Camel Field Ambulance arrived 'from Australia, and was attached to the Imperial Camel Corps Brigade, becoming the 5th L.H.F.A. A year later, when the Australian portion of the I.C.C. Brigade was changed into Light Horse, this involved exchanging the ambulance camels for horses and vehicles. It was then attached to the Aus- tralian Mounted Division. ‘ Two small improvised units, the value of whose work was out of all pm- portion to ‘their size, completed the field units. The Anzac Field Laboratory was formed to deal with the cholera contracted from the retreating Turks, . and carried out an extraordinary amount of work of great value for 2% years; like the Anzac Sanitary Section, it was partly composed of New Zealanders. 141

The second was an operating unit formed just before the capture of Beersheba to make early operation for the seriously wounded possible. Its main feature was a large operating car, its personnel partly British, Australian and New Zealand, and its performances of mobility remarkable. All of these units were finally embodied in the , a cavalry forma- tion of four divisions, two of which consisted of British Yeomanry and Indian Cavalry, with combined ambulances of British and Indian personnel, with which our ambulances frequently had to co-operate by taking each other’s patients. All of the medical units were organised and equipped to keep up with the cavalry in their long and rapid movements. The personnel were mounted on horses, donkeys, or riding camels, and light bamboo stretchers were carried on their horses by the stretcher-bearers. Only the most essential equip- ment could be carried, as owing to the line of supply passing through’ the submarine-infested Mediterranean, ambulances never had sufficient transport {or their needs, and tents, firewood, water and rations for the patients were among the essentials, Shortage of transport and equipment were always a handicap. The climate and diseases peculiar to the country made the work of the A.A».M.C. arduous, but there was always variety, and the presence of new difficulties to be overcome was stimulating. The Sinai desert campaign lasted from April, 1916, to March, 1917, and was carried through in deep, soft sand, rising into series of steep dunes; scattered about were cases of date palm trees called Hods, in which brackish water was generally found. Patients were carried partly in two—wheeled vehicles, with broad tyres, called sand- carts, intended to hold two patients, but known in emergencies to take twelve; four or six horses were used in them. For the most severe cases home-made sand sledges were used, and were the most comfortable form of transport, but were uneconomical in Horses. The majority of wounded were carried on camels in cacolets designed either for lying or sitting cases; all of the former were bad until we captured some of those used by the Turks at the and copied them. Camel riding is always uncomfort- able, and what a journey of 20 or 30 miles at a rate of 2 miles per hour under a burning sun meant to a wounded man may be well imagined. The advance across the desert was carried out by a series of bounds made by the mounted troops to protect the growing railway. Operations mainly consisted of raids, or “stunts," as they were always called, against enemy posts. Leaving camp towards evening, a silent and smokeless march would be made through the featureless desert to surprise the enemy at dawn; sometimes two night marches were necessary, the intervening day being spent in concealment. The men slept so far as the flies and heat would allow. After attacking the position, the ambulances, carrying back the wounded as rapidly as possible to railhead, usually reached camp long after the light horse. The ”stunts” were frequent, and, carried out in mid summer in a rwaterless country on a daily ration: of half a gallon of water, were very fatiguing; on one occasion a whole regiment, while returning, collapsed from heat exhaustion. Only once was serious opposition made to our advance, when the Turks attacked the railhead at Romani; though much trekking before and after 17 142 the attack was done by ambulances, the wounded, in rather large numbers, were handled with unusual case on this occasion, as the railway was close. Apart from Cholera, which was soon stamped out, though always a bogey, the main sanitary measures concerned drinking water and flies, which were in enormous numbers, and the cause of a good deal of dysentery. Flies were only kept in check by rigorous sanitary rules and inspections, and avoidance ol~ the shady palm hods as camping grounds. These measures did not earn popularity for the medical service. The wells found were always salty, and rarely lit for drinking, but all had to be tested to determine their potability, and to be protected from contamination; almost all drinking water, which was always chlorinated, came from the sweet water canal by the side of the Suez Canal, at first in tanks, or “fantaseest” later by a pipe line, which finally was carried beyond Gaza, thus fulfilling the. prophecy that the Nile would flow into Syria. The early part of the campaign into Palestine, which included the first two battles of Gaza, did not make a great difference to the medical services, except that fine dust replaced sand, while the country, though roadless, was firmer. A great outbreak of septic sores occurred, which was uncontrollable till oranges and vegetables were reached near jaffa, and prevention of mos- quito breeding as an antimalarial measure was first begun. More casualties were dealt with in this period than in any other. After the fall of Beersheba and Gaza the whole medical situation changed with the ability to utilise ambulance waggons, the addition of motor ambulances, and the use of motor lorries for slight cases; water became plentiful, the effects of cold and wet had to be dealt with, and mosquito destruction largely replaced that of flies. The distances covered were greater, and from Jaffa patients at one time had to be carried 60 miles to the nearest casualty clearing station over rough roads. ’ Experience was then gained of dealing with casualties in the steep stone covered Judean hills, where only camels, which fall down in slippery mud, could be used to carry wounded. In 1918, after the capture of Jerusalem and Jericho, medical units took part in the two attacks on Amman, in the Hauran; both failed, though the town of BS Salt was taken on each occasion. In the first, heavy rain and severe cold in the hills of Moab made the return of the wounded over 60 miles to Jerusalem, with ;a pursuing enemy, a difficult task. . The second attack was remarkable for the extremely steep and rough hills on which it was found possible for camels loaded with wounded to move. In both attacks some of the A.A.M.C. were captured. During the summer of 1918, passed in the pestilential valley of the Jordan. where fogs of dust and burning heat were ever present, a vast amount oi? antimalarial work was carried out, and it was a matter of surprise that this qnabled troops to remain in the valley at lall; that this work was effective was proved by the experience of the Anzac Division at the beginning of the final offensive. Two nights spent in that part of the valley previously held by the Turks, who had carried out no antimalarial work, resulted in a loss to the division of over 75 per cent. of its strength from malaria in a few weeks. This work, with the large numbers of sick to be treated, and the trying climatic conditions, threw a heavy strain on the medical service, which left it in poor condition to deal with all the patients from the time of the final 143 advance. This advance was very rapid and long, and when the worn-out Australian Division reached Damascus an epidemic of influenza was encoun- tered at the same time as the malignant malaria contracted on the way made its appearance. At first evacuation to the nearest casualty clearing station (which was 150 miles distant, with parts of the road almost impassable for cars) was impracticable; later the distance was reduced to 90 miles to a railhead, and, when Beerut was occupied, to 70. At the same time there was a shortage of invalid food and hospital equipment of all kinds; the majority of the medical personnel was ill. and great numbers of sick prisoners, who were literally dying in hundreds a day, had to be cared for as far as possible. The Anzac Division in the hills east of the jordan was having a similar experi- ence. Such is a brief account of the doings of the A.A.M.C in the field with the Egyptian Expeditionary force, and though its duties were not easy, no member of it can help being proud and glad to have belonged to it.

EJIElEIE

Ebe 21.11.11”. Ebucatton Service.

BY BRIGADIER-GENERAL LONG.

ITHIN .all the British armies serving on the Western Front there came into being, as the long war dragged on, groups of men banded together to co—operate in maintaining and extending their voca- boredom, tional and general knowledge. In part the impulse came from sheer after long in part it came from mental energies reasserting their vigour peace when inaction; in part it came from a desire to be fit for the tasks of out a war should be no more. No one began in the first place by thinking great scheme for educating the armies on service. to This sporadic growth here and there of educational organisms began develop attract attention and sympathy from discerning minds. Plans to aid, in an and correlate these growths were improvised by a few enthusiasts comprehensive unofficial way, and finally the idea came to birth of creating a men on official and authoritative organisation to include the needs of all the servrce. to this The two men in the A.I.F. who first gave thought on a big scale E. W. Bean. full development were General Sir Brudenell \Vhite and Mr. C. the idea I arrived in France just at the time when they had become seized of I was sent and had enlisted the cordial support of Sir . for and asked to draw up a report upon the somewhat nebulous ideas that were then in our minds. My report was adopted as a basis, and l presently was a title found myself appointed Director of Education, A.I.F., which was the whole With a fine sound, not betraying the desolating fact that I Education Department in myself. It would be much too long a story to attempt to tell how that Education in the course of the following months from one lone individual Service grew 174 1“

until it became the largest department in the whole A.I.F. during the process of demobilisation. In the first days I associated with myself Major H. Thomson, of Adelaide and Oxford U11iV'e1sities, and Captain W. Mulholland of Sydney UniVersity, as Deputy and Assistant Director respectively. he laid out our a1ms in two main divisions—Vocational and Inspira- tional Education Our methods were also to be broadly twofold—lnternal and External Education. Let me explain briefly what we meant by these terms. Our duty was to help to refit the fighting man for his return to civil life and to make good as far as possible the wastage of the years spent at war. First we would approach him on the economic and utilitarian side. What could we do to help him in his civil vocation? He might be Jackeroo, “bottle-oh,” wharf- labourer, medical practitioner, engineer, or anything else; but the only thing that counted was that he was a soldier, and as a soldier each was to count for one and none for more than one. The Education Service must be as broad as the army to meet the civil and economic needs of any and every soldier so far as facilities could be provided. On the second string our aim was to overcome war weariness and listless- ness by the provision of libraries with all considerable units, to arouse interests in the big problems of life, to stimulate among men a proper concern for the future of their country by means of specially selected lecturers, by study groups, debating societies, reading circles and similar agencies. This was our ciV'ic or inspirational education. Then the methods we planned for accomplishing our great task were first “internal,” i.e.—meet the man while he remained with the army and provide him there with the desired teaching from the internal resources ot' the army. Our second method was u external,” i.e.——to devise a scheme whereby soldiers might be withdrawn from army life in considerable numbers during demobilisation and ”farmed out" for given periods to universities, schools, workshops, farms, and the like. In broadest outline these were our aims and our methods, and we were able to get them approved and adopted by the Military Authorities. For internal education there was selected and appointed an Education Officer with a small staff for every battalion or unit of similar strength; there were also Supervising Divisional Education Officers for each division and similar formation, and Assistant Directors for France, England and Egypt, as well as for various departments~technical, agricultural, university studies, and so on. Each of these Departments were again subdivided into branches, e.g., Technical Department had a separate controller for each branch, viz., Civil, Electrical, Mining, Mechanical Engineering. Everywhere there was given to men, while they were detained in their units awaiting repatriation, oppor- tunity to take up some subject or enter upon some course. The Commanding Officers for the most part th1ew themselVes with energy into the work and helped to 01gamse all kinds of training for the men under their command. Greater facilities existedin some places than1n others, and consequently the work went better there The second divisions, for instance, were able to 145 place 325 men under excellent conditions in the Université du Travail at Cnarlerm, where they were able to receive excellent instruction in various branches of the mechanical arts. There were, in addition to Battalion classes, Brigade, Division and Corps Schools, in such a Variety of subjects that it would be wearisome to give the list of them. Our three main central schools under the internal scheme were at Rue, near the mouth of the Somme, where Professor Wallace, of Melbourne U111- versity, was Superintendent of Studies; at jeumont, on the Belgian border, for the technical and craft instruction; and at Sutton Veny, for agricultural and land studies. On the external education side 10,000 men were placed out for various periods in universities, colleges, workshops, farms, etc. A university magazine will be chiefly interested in what was done for and by university men. We had worked hard over the problems of the under- graduate with a broken course, and had enlisted the sympathetu: considera- tion of Home Universities on his behalf. In the early days of our work I had discovered Mr. H. W. Allen, Vice- Master of Ormond, doomed to employ his energies till war should end upon typing army forms. I had him commissioned to the Education Service, and the undergraduate became his special care. Mr. Allen worked each day and every day a weary toll of hours on behalf of the undergrad. There can rarely have been quite such a shocking example of sweated labour as in the Educa- tion Service during the months of November, December and january last. In the end we came to the conclusion that the best thing to do for the under- graduate was to get him back to Australia as speedily as possible. The home Universities were overcrowded, courses were difficult of adjust- ment, and the average undergrad.’s needs could much better be met in Aus— tralia. Sir john Monash agreed that our reasons were sound, and granted early repatriation to undergraduates so that they might rejoin their Univer- sities in March, 1919. In the army it is one thing to get a policy assented to, another thing to get it enforced. It was a hard struggle to make the mili- tary machine yield up the undergraduates, but gradually he was released from its grip and sent homewards in time to save the wastage of still another year from his professional career. Another task we carried through in those early days of demobilisation was to secure the recall of all Australian Rhodes Scholars serving with the forces. They were scattered far and wide about the earth, but in a short time we found them all but one, who was away on some “mystery” expedition in the wilds of Asiatic Russia. All others we were able to place in Oxford in January, except Major Kent Hughes, M.C., of Melbourne University, whose journey from Aleppo to London took just too long to place him in residence for the first term. However, there were still quite a large number of undergraduates for whom special courses were obtained, but for the most part our policy was to reserve the opportunities in British Universities for the graduates of our own Universities, who could profit much more widely from the special inten- sive courses provided. The numbers of men taking advantage of these courses was always changing, as some completed and others entered upon a course. On June 7th last there were 559 men doing courses at British and 146

Foreign Universities, and engaged in educational, legal and medical studies connected with U111V‘ers1ties. At the same date there were 2401 men d01ng courses under the technical section, and 2192 under the agr1eu1tural seet1on. Great numbers of these represented post graduate studies of University men in engineering, agriculture, lorestry, and Kindred subjects. For purposes of departmental organisation, University men in engmeering and agriculture were grouped under the technical and agricultural sections not under “Uni- V'ers1ty Studies.” In addition to these courses arranged under the demobilisation procedure, there had been established during the W'ar by the generous g1tts of people in England a large number of Overseas Sailors’ and Soldiers’ Scholarsh1ps. These were tenable at all Universities and colleges in Great Britain, and Were restricted to men incapacitated for further general service w1t'n the lorees. ()ur Australian men were eager competitors for these scholarships, and did excellent work as students. We secured more than our due proportion because of the eagerness and good qual1ty of the men whose names we sent in. Austrahans game‘d nine— teen out of the first thirty-six awarded, and, writing now lrom memory, 1 th1nk our eventual tally was 23 out of 43. Many applications of great merit had to be refused owing to the depletion of the scholarship funds. It is impossible within the limits of this article to give anything like a complete description of the Education Service. I have done no more than mention the big school over which I placed Professor Wallace as Superinten- dent of Studies. The early woes and ultimate triumphs of that school from its coal-less, stove—less beginnings in a bitterly cold january to its final voyage home with work continued all the way deserves an article all to itself. All honour to Professor Wallace and his staff for their pluck, patience and resourcefulness. The Universities of Australia sent over to us Assistant Professor Holme, of Sydney, who arrived in London in January. The authority given him by the Universities was very useful in arranging entrance examinations, etc. Of course we had been compelled to determine all vital policies long before his arrival in january. However, upon his arrival I had him gazetted as Assistant Director for University Studies, and with Mr. Allen and Mr. Clark, of Adelaide, he was given charge of the courses and studies of University men. The whole work is now swiftly coming to an end, but those who laboured so hard to make the Education Service a great success believe that its influ- ence will tell upon Australian life for long years to come. Ten thousand men have been given unique opportunities for study and experience in the older countries. Tens of thousands of other soldiers have been brought under helpful influences. The record of attendance at lectures for the week ending June 16th was 35,600, an increase of 1200 over the week before. There were 126,000 attendances at lectures and classes during six weeks of April and May. These lectures and classes are continued on the transports until the troops are disembarked in Australia. Many of the ablest men of the Empire have been introduced to the “Diggers" under the auspices of the Education Service.

147

Sir Cecil Hertslet, British Consul General for Belgium, 1903-15, recently lectured to audiences of 700 and 1000 men respectively on “The Siege and Fall of Antwerp” and “The Romance of Empire.” He was greatly impressed by the splend1d attention of the men and the excellence of the Education Scheme. He stated it was the finest scheme of the sort he had seen in a wide experience, and the one most appreciated by the men of all that had been inaugurated in the armies. That testimony has been given again and again by numbers of experi- enced public men, who have been in touch with the Education Service. As a matter of fact a special Commission of Experts appointed to investi- gate the army Education Service in England and France pronounced the Aus- tralian service to be the one service functioning satisfactorily, and recom- mended its organisation as a model. The fact that the Australian Education Service was able to reach the measure of success it did was entirely due to the amazing energy, devotion, and self—sacrifice 0f the big body of men who threw themselves into its activities at a time when they may well have considered themselves entitled to rest at ease after the enemy had been beaten. It was this spirit that made the Australian Corps so marvellously effi- cient in the days of fighting, and almost a double portion of that spirit seemed to come upon the indefatigable workers in the Education Service when fighting days were done. In the Education Service men of all the Universities of Australia bore their part, and though some of the very finest of my Colleagues were not University men, yet the great majority of them had received the1r capacity and inspiration for social service from their Universities, and they did their Australian home of learning great honour by the vigour and fine spirit with which they gave themselves to a difficult and unexpected task.

BEBE]

(trinity (tollege. N 1914, for the first time in their history, the Unversities of Australia found themselves face to face with a national crisis of fundamental importance. Civilisation and the whole social system were threatened with the sword, and by the sword only could they be saved. The prompt realisation of the danger, the sure and certain answer which in the main University men gave to the call, are here beyond comment; we are concerned with but one part in the whole, the record of Trinity College, the number of her men that fought and died. Within the past few weeks a considerable proportion of men then in residence had enlisted, and their number was added to largely at the end of the year, when the annual examination had relieved the individual of responsi- bilities which, much as he might have wished it, could not earlier be disposed of. 148

The first term of 1915 saw the College with few freshmen, and, relatively until in speaking, still fewer senior men: a state of affairs which progressed few all there were barely twenty-fiV'e men in residence. Of this number but saw the commencement of the first term in the New Year. Those who found too themselves in residence came Under the following categories——\Vere young; were medical students detained by order of the Minister of Defeneew Galli- and this class included several men sent back after participation in the poll campaign; or were prevented by physical disabilities from enlistment. The Warden was able to state in his annual report to the Council that Trinity had no man in residence whose duty could fairly be said to lie elsewhere—a state of affairs well borne out by the fact that under the first Conscription Bill no College man was called into camp. Throughout 1917 and 1918 the same conditions prevailed in each year; the number of our freshmen never exceeded fifteen, and in each case our complement was depleted by enlistments during the year. It is, perhaps, in this connection that expression is best given to the gratitude felt by all Trinity men and women to the man who not only kept the College open against his own best interests, but kept its name above reproach in the performance of its duties to the State. The College Roll of Service contains the names of three hundred and ten men and women who played some part in the great struggle. Among them some fifty-fiV'e decorations are shared, and of their number thirty-two gave their lives for their country.

EEEE

®rmonb ¢ollege.

ITHIN a few days of the acceptance by Great Britain of Australia's offer to send an expeditionary force, about a dozen of the men then resident in Ormond went into camp at Broadmeadows. Those of us who were in college at the time well remember Richardson, Cherry, Leekie, Wright Smith, Wynne, Campbell, Morrison, Rogers and Dr. S. J. Campbell coming to dinner in Hall one evening and being wished God-speed by the Master (Dr. MacFarland)——to the envy of all the others, who were not able to get away so quickly to the great adventure. Richardson and Campbell were killed on Gallipoli within a month of the landing, Leckie in France early in 1916. Dr. Campbell was killed while bathing at Anzac. Rogers has returned to College this year as Captain J. D. Rogers, M.C., and Belgian Croix de Guerre, of Army Headquarters Staff, while Captain G. N. I. Morrison is now on the Staff of the Black Watch. - 'v :"V' The rest of the College meanwhile settled down to examinations, hardly finding time for more than a hurried reading of the page of war cables in the daily press. The men who finished their courses at the end of 1914 went on active service almost to a man.

149 ' “m The year 1915 saw the new Master installed; and some organisation of subscriptions to the various patriotic funds came into being. Men who had returned to College felt restless, especially after the had begun, and before the end of the first term McCallum, Searby, Longden, G. E. Mackay, De Ravin, L. S. Woods, Hampton Southwell, Dr. Wilson, were in camp. McCallum is back with us this year as Captain MeCallum, after a long spell in Germany, where he was taken as prisoner after being badly wounded at Bullecourt. Dr. Wilson has returned to Australia with the rank of Colonel. Intercollegiate sport having been abandoned and early examinations insti- tuted, the College settled down to work; but every man had more than half his mind bent on the burning question of when he would be able to follow his friends. The position as regards senior medical students was not then upon a satisfactory basis, and Roberts, who enlisted and was in camp for some weeks, was forcibly discharged to complete his course; he did so in 1917, immediately went to the front, and was killed. At the end of the 2nd term another big batch of men went from the College to the various camps; D. V. K. Anderson, R. A. Reid, Powell, Leggatt, Agnew, Pearson, Sandral, K. S. Reid, Pillow and Cook were among their number. Of these Anderson, R. A. Reid, Agnew and Pillow gave their lives; all the others are now back in college (Leggatt and Pearson with com- missions), except Sandral, who has gone to Balliol, Oxford, as Rhodes Scholar for 1915. Towards the end of the year, E. H. B. Woods, A. E. Midleton, Porter, Gibson, Fay, Buckland, Adam, Browne, and Kelso joined up, Woods having already seen service, but having returned to finish his final year; with Fay and Gibson, he was awarded the Military Cross, Fay subsequently adding a bar. Buckland was killed as a flight lieutenant. This was the darkest year of the war, and that fact is reflected in our memories of College life. The end of 1915 and the beginning of 1916 saw our numbers at their lowest ebb. During 1916 two opposite processes operated; men continued to enlist as they found themselves in a position to do so, but an intermittent stream of returned men began to appear, bringing with them new thought and interest into the life of the College. At August examinations VVaterhouse, Robertson, Disher, Crisp, Littlejohn, Sutherland, Hyett and Fox completed their course, and came under military orders. We remember the gloom cast by the untimely death of Sutherland after a painful illness. Captain Fox, after a long period of able service, died on a transport returning to Australia. Captain Disher added to his rowing laurels since the Armistice by stroking the A.I.F. crew which won the King’s cup at Henley. Of junior men who enlisted in 1916 Berthon and Webb made the supreme sacrifice. At the beginning of 1917 the College had a phenomenal entry of men, mostly under eighteen. The College, to its own great surprise, found itself once more practically full. And it was at this time and in these circumstances —more particularly in view of the fact that Australia had turned down com- pulsory service (for the first time), that a definite policy in the matter of military service was formulated. The College, rightly or wrongly, took the view that, when a lead seemed necessary, such institutions should give the lead; but more definitely that it must give the right lead to its own men, and 1s 150 do everything in its power to ensure that each man did the right thing at this greatest crisis in his life. The view was taken that no man should be sent from Australia, to the rigours of modern war ten thousand miles away, before the age of nineteen; and on the other hand that no fit man over the age of twenty could justify refusal to go and play his part in the war. Men in College knew then that the reputation and prestige of a great College stood between every individual man and the unfair aspersions that might be made by people ignorant of the {acts of his particular case. The doors of the College were definitely shut to every applicant who was in any way out of tune with the great record of war service of the College. Early in 1917 Dr. J. 1. Connor went on active service; and in the middle of the year was followed by the Vice Master, Mr. H. W. Allen, who had up till that time been practically bound to the College by the necessity to give the Master the benefit of his long experience in forging the links between the new regime and the old. No figure has been more missed from College, and none will be more heartily welcomed back. Captain Connor has done some distinguished work on the influenza epidemic in Europe, and Captain Allen was, late in 1918, drafted to the work of the A.I.F. Educational Committee. College numbers fell again in 1918. A sad feature of the year was the news from time to time of the death of men who had been in College with us; it had become the practice to remember these men and their people at College Prayers, and the muster of College men to mourn their lost friends will be a lasting memory. In September the services of the Master were requisitioned by the Federal Government for the work of Educational War Propaganda then instituted, and he was much away from College on missions to other States. By the end of the year our men began to return, and in the early part of the present year they had returned to such an extent that College had to overflow into houses in Parkville. Nearly half our numbers now are returned men. If there is a strain of monotony in this record, it is because the College thought and talked of little but the war during these years. Its proudest possession and tradition is a Roll of Service of some 450 names, some 60 of whom gave their lives, and 110 of the number enlisted from College. A War Memorial Scheme has been launched, and an organisation (the War Savings Groups) which achieved great success has been diverted to this new object. The war has left us with a great tradition, and it is for us and our successors to see that the achievements of peace times are worthy of that tradition and 0f the men who died.

Elfilfilli!

wueen’s ¢ollege.

HE outbreak of the war in August, 1914, found the College with 61 resident students, which is about the limit of its accommodation. Within a month nine past and present students had joined the colours, and by the end of the year this number had been increased in 56, so that we opened the session of 1915 with only 43 in residence. \Ve heartily concurred in the decision that no inter-collegiate sports should be held whilst so many of our comrades were risking their lives at the Front; and it was also resolved that the usual initiation festivities. and other public college functions should be suspended during the continuance of the war. As the months went on, and it became obvious that we were in for a prolonged struggle with our enemies, the call for additional volunteers was cheerfully responded to, and by the end of the first year of the war we had 81 men serving at the front or preparing to go. These were mostly in Egypt and Gallipoli, and in August I received a leter from Chaplain-Colonel Green, in which he said, “I should like you and the men at Queen‘s to know that Queen’s is well represented here (in Gallipoli), and is contributing valuable service in this difficult opera- tion which the Empire has to see through.” Two of our men had already fallen, Captain G. C. M. Mathison, M.D., and the Rev. A. G. Stapleton. Our number of residents at the beginning of the third term was reduced to 31. By March, 1916, we had 130 on our Honour Roll, besides 16 others who were doing military service in various capacities at the home base; and eleven had laid down their lives in the performance of their duty. Only 28 men came into residence in 1916, and the work in our Theological Hall had to be sus- pended altogether, as all the students had either gone to the front, or were taking the work of ministers who had been sent as Chaplains there. In con- sequence of this, the Master was able to take a Chaplaincy at the Royal Park Military Camp, which he continued until the camp was done away with 18 months later. Though several new students from the schools came into resi- dence in 1917, our number remained stationary at 28; and most of these, who were of military age, had offered their services, but had been rejected for health and other reasons. Our Honour Roll grew steadily through these years, but owing to a large influx of boys from the secondary schools we had 39 residents at the beginning of 1918; this number, however, fell to 34 before the end of the year. The inevitable financial loss during the years of the war was; generously met by a number of gentlemen who contributed annually to a \Var Emergency Fund, and so enabled us to carry on without any serious increase of our debt. When the armistice was proclaimed and it was possible to make up the totals, we were able to report that 210 of our past and present students had volunteered and been accepted for active service in various capacities at the front; of whom 30 had given their lives for King and Empire. It is intended to commemorate the self-sacrifice and devotion of these brave men by the erection of a Memorial Chapel in the College grounds. Five of our men have won the Military Medal, fifteen the Military Cross, one the Distinguished Conduct Medal, five the D.S.O., two the O.B.E., one the C.M.G., one the C.B.E., and one the French Croix de 18; 152

Guerre. Two of our Rhodes Scholars, Dr. Apperley and Dr. Frank Kerr, found their way from Oxford to the front, and a third. Dr. A. C. D. Rivett, did eminent service in England in the Munitions Department; whilst Prof. Steele, F.R.S., and Dr. \Valter Rosenhain have taken a foremost place in connection with the manufacture of explosives, and of aeroplanes respectively. The Chaplain-General oi the Methodist Church of Australia, and the Chaplain— General for Victoria are both on our roll, as well as the Naval Chaplain on board H.M.S. Sydney. Non nobis, Domine, non nobis, sed nomini tuo da gloriam!

EEEEI

Ebe Work of University Women.

Melbourne university 1Reb Gross Centre, 1914¢1919. (By M. H. W.)

HE University Red Cross Centre was formed in April, 1915. Previous to this date there had been an “At Homes” Committee of the Univer- sity Union, managing weekly gatherings, which at once became sewing parties for war work as 500 as war broke out in August, 1914. The work was definitely organised for Red Cross purposes at the beginning of first term, 1915, and the first work afternoon was held on May 5th. A large general committee was formed, representing all the groups of women mem- bers of the Union. From this number an executive was elected, with Mrs. Orme Masson as President. Mrs. Masson remained our President all through, and it is largely thanks to her untiring interest, and the steady support of other senior members of the Branch, that the work was carried on as regu- larly and successfully as it was. The Centre was registered with the Vic~ torian Division of the Australian Red Cross Society (B.R.C.S.). In 1916 a University Trench Sock Guild was formed, distinct from the work for the sick and wounded, and most of the socks knitted by us after this were sent to the Australian Comforts Fund for the men on active service. The work party met every \Vednesday afternoon of Term, in the Club House common room. Graduates. undergraduates, members of staff, wives of members of staff, and sometimes other friends, came together between 2 and 5 to sew shirts, roll bandages, make swabs~—and talk. In spite of the sadness that lay behind it all, we often had very pleasant times on these Wednesday afternoons. Sometimes someone played the piano, but generally we just chatted while we worked. On fine days some of us took our sewing outside and sat in groups on the lawn. Generally, however, the majority remained in the common room, which presented a very busy scene. We appropriated the whole southern end of the room, and dragged in three or 153 four tables from the dining-room, round which we sat in parties—swab—making parties, or bandage-windex's, or shirt-folders, or sewers-on of buttons. The machine buzzed busily in one corner, putting button-holes into flannel shirts, which were then doled out to waiting hands to receive buttons and finishing touches. In another corner sat those who had charge of the wool, which they gave out to knitters to be made up, receiving back each week all the socks that had been knitted up to date. '1 he attendance at these W'ednesday meet- ings varied from about a dozen (in third term, or at other strenuous periods) to perhaps 40 or 50. Many women who were unable for various reasons to attend the University Red Cross parties, worked for other war organisations, and certainly very many knitted socks, at all hours of the day, both in and out of lectures. Altogether, the University Red Cross Centre turned out about 4675 flannel shirts, 6900 bandages, 2530 pairs of socks (exclusive of the Trench Sock Guild, which sent away over 2600), and 11,280 swabs, besides a great many other Red Cross articles, such as pyjamas, slippers, cardigans, washers, scarves, counterpanes, etc., as demands came in from the central de ot. p Two one-day Red Cross Carnivals were held, one in April, 1917, and one in April, 1918. Much good work was done by both men and women members of the University in connection with the organisation and carrying out of these carnivals, and on each occasion the University was transformed for a day and a night into a wonderfully gay and crowded place, with people swarming everywhere, in and out of the buildings, and bright little booths dis- playing their wares for sale under the staid old Morton Bay Figs and in the Wilson Hall itself. The 1917 carnival realised nearly £700, and the 1918 one nearly £1200. On several other occasions kind friends organised enter~ tainments to augment our funds, and knitting-competitions brought us it both money and goods from time to time. Various University societies also made us donations, and we collected small weekly subscriptions from our own members. With the. money received in all these ways we were able to provide our workers with as much flannel, wool, bandage material, etc., as they could deal with. We were able also to make donations to the British Red Cross, the Victorian Red Cross, the French Red Cross, and other patriotic funds in need of help. The work-parties were continued after the Armistice till well on into 1919, as there was still material on hand, and the demands upon Red Cross goods did not slacken at once. The Australian Red Cross needed kit-bags, house- wives, shirts and socks for the returning men, which we went on supplying. The last work-party was held at the end of second term, 1919. Mrs. Masson asked all the members present to tea in the dining—room, and we said fare- well to nearly five years of Red Cross activity. Of the funds remaining, J5‘50 was allocated to the Red Cross libraries, £50 to the Curative Workshop, and the balance to the Red Cross fund for army nurses. The last record in the Minute Book of the Branch is significant of the end of the war period and the beginning, we hope, of a happier era. It says that our faithful hamper. in which we used to send to the Central Depot our finished products, packed in neat bundles, is to be given to the Union— “after having the Red Cross erased.” ”33583962 H Jfirancb 0f EQWiCQ.

HEN the Military Authorities foresaw the need of massage for many of the returning sick and wounded members of the A.I.F., they called for volunteer workers to undertake a modified course in massage. As workers were wanted quickly, the training was condensed into about six months. Through the Australian Massage Association, the A.I.F. authorities arranged with the Melbourne University for a special course of lectures under the guidance of the Professors of Anatomy and Physiology, who took a very great interest in the scheme. The course began in September, 1918. There were lectures in anatomy and physiology for three months, and a six weeks’ course in dissecting. The lectures were taken in conjunction with practical work at the Melbourne Hospital, and the students worked hard and were remarkably. successful. On completing the course, all who got through went straight to work at the Various military hospitals, where most of them still are. In all, about 40 students qualified for service by means of this modified course. Their work has been highly appreciated by the mili- tary authorities. All are enthusiatic in their gratitude for the valuable help they had from the professors and demonstrators who gave so much time and attention to this special course. As regards the full Australian Massage Association Diploma, that is, of course, not a University diploma, but the students who do that course as a matter of fact spend most of their time at the University attending lectures in anatomy and physiology with the medical students. Practically all who went in for the course from 1910 onwards have been doing qualified war work. During the war period, the students qualifying each year went straight on to war work, and some were sent on service abroad. The “modified" students are a most ardent band. Most of them began hospital work in April and May of this year, chiefly at No. 11 A.G.H. (Caulfield), No. 3 A.G.I-I. (Base), and No. 16 A.G.H. (MacLeod). At Caul- field the comparatively more recent surgical cases are treated The work as a whole is typically war work, dealing with deep adhesive scars, paralysis, through nerve injury, and stiffened and deformed cases of a sort not often seen at a civil hospital; the students love the general atmosphere at these military hospitals and the cheery optimism of the Diggers. The patients generally welcome massage treatment, though the masseuses have been given the name of “Agony Sisters,” and the electrical room and gymnasium, with their queer devices, are known as “the Mad House.” The masseuses are not likely to forget the help and courtesy of the University in making it pos- sible for so many of them to take this modified training, and so qualify to undertake this important and interesting work at a time when the need for masseuses was great and the supply seemed likely to be unequal to the demand.

WIIE 155

the War Work of the Illntvemttg.

List of Past Student: 0/ [lie Chemistry Department who were engaged as C/zemix/s 071 [MW lVor/z Imdcr {/15 British Government or M: Cammonwealt/z Government. N. T. M. VVILSMORE, D.Sc. (Professor of Chemistry in the University of Western Australia). Attached to the Ministry of Munitions dealing with special problems, including that of nitrogen fixation. B. D. STEELE, D.Se. (Professor of Chemistry in the University of Queensland). Superintendent of H.M. Factory, Ellesmere Port, for the manufacture of synthetic phenol by a process devised by himself; attached to the Ministry of Munitions and dealing with special problems, such as the manufacture of poison gas. G. W. MACDONALD, M.Sc. (Chief Chemist to Curtis and Harvey, Ltd.). Special advisor on explosives to the Ministry of Munitions; awarded C.B.l£. A. C. CUMMING, D.Sc. (Lecturer on Chemistry, University of Edinburgh). Manager of H.M. Factory, Craig Leith, erected for a process of manufac- ture devised by himself. Awarded O.B.E. G. S. VVALPOLE, D.Sc. (Research Chemist to Burroughs, VVellcome and Co.). Chemical Advisor to the Aeronautical Department. J. I. O. MASSON, D.Sc. (Lecturer on Chemistry, University of London— University College). Research Chemist on high explosives; later Chemist in charge of Physical Chemistry and Propellants, Research Department, \Voolwich Arsenal. Awarded M.B.E. A. C. D. mer, M.A., D.Sc. (Lecturer on Chemistry in the University of Melbourne). Process Manager, H.M. Factory, Swindon, for the manufacture of ammonium nitrate. R. J. Lewxs (Inspector of Explosives, Victoria). Director of Munitions, Australia. M. BELL (Chemical Advisor to the Commonwealth Defence Department). Attached to the Commonwealth Arsenal Branch, London. W. R. JEWELL, B.Sc. Process worker on nitro-glycerine section at H.M. Factory, Gretna; then Chemist on the Grillo plant; later engaged as a member of the Commonwealth Arsenal staff to study the chemistry and metallurgy of steel at Sheffield. C. P. CALLISTER, M.Sc. Shift chemist in the guncotton section at H.M. Factory, Gretna; later chemist in charge of the guncotton drying ,plant, and then manager of the guncotton section until May, 1918, at the same factory; after- wards engaged in London on work connected with nitrogen fixation and poison gas manufacture. 156

R. ]. CRAIG, B.Sc. Chemist in charge of the guncotton section at H.M. Factory, Queens- ferry, from the beginning to the end; carried out research work on trinitroxylene. During the latter part of 1918 was chemist in charge of the manufacture of poison gas at H.M. Factory, Avonmouth. A. F. PARKIN, B.Sc. then chemist in charge of the pulping department of this section; later, manager of the section. C. \V. O. STL'BBS, B.Sc. Shift‘Chemist at H.M. Factory, Pembrey, manufacturing cordite; later Shift chemist in the guncotton section at H.M. Factory, Queensferry; transferred to W'oolwich Arsenal. A. T. S. SISSONS, B.Sc. Chemist in the nitro-glycerine section at H.M. Factory, Gretna, and later in the Research Laboratory. H. C. URQLHART, B.Sc. Chemist at H.M. Factory, Ellesmere Port, for the manufacture of phenol. Later engaged on experimental work on nitrogen fixation. —— CERRU'ITY. ' Shift chemist at Queensterry, and later at Penrhyndeudraeth. A. A. ROSENBLUM, B.Sc. Shift chemist in the nitro-glycerine and acid sections at H.M. Factory, Gretna; later shift chemist at H.M. Factory, Avonmouth, on poison gas manufacture. K. B. STRAW. Chemist in the testing laboratory at H.M. Factory, Queensferry; later chemist in charge of the laboratory. T. C. SUM‘ON, M.Sc. Engaged on research work under the Board of Invention and Research. C. MENKENS (Mechanic, Nat. Phil. School). Held positions as foreman and works manager at various depots of the Board of Invention and Research. W. M. HOLMES, M.A., B.Sc. Engaged on gauge calibration at the National Physical Laboratory, Teddington, England. B. L. h'ICAL’LAY, B.Sc. Engaged on gauge calibration at the National Physical Laboratory, and later on testing materials for aeroplane construction at Manchester. G. A. AMPT, B.Sc. Chemist to the Defence Department, Melbourne. J. T. MCCORMICK, M.Se. Chemist to the Defence Department, Melbourne. ]. R. COCHRANE. B.Sc. Chemist at the Commonwealth Cordite Factory. A. K. JACK, M.Sc. Chemist at the Commonwealth Cordite Factory. F. J. VVATSON, B.Sc. Chemist at the Commonwealth Cordite Factory. 157

CALIBRATION OF MUNITIONS GAUGES. When, in 1915, the need for large quantities of munitions was felt and the matter of very greatly increased production was decided on in Great Britain, a similar move was made in Australia. Federal and State Munitions Committees were formed to investigate how Australia could best help in this matter and to devise means for carrying their findings into effect. It was decided to manufacture the bodies of 18-pounder high explosive shells, but after a good deal of preliminary work had been done the project was dropped in 1916 owing to the high cost of production in Australia, compared with that in Great Britain. The Ministry of Munitions had brought about a phenomenal reduction in the cost of shell bodies as a result of the dilution of labour, the use of single purpose machines and by careful organisation in other respects. It was then found that more good could be done by sending skilled workers to Great Britain, and this course was followed with much success. While the shell-making project was being attempted a great deal of work was done by Professor Lyle, and under his direction by Mr. H. J. Grayson (whose death in 1917 was greatly deplored), and by Messrs. W. M. Holmes, E. B. Brown, and V. J. Daley. The task Was the calibration of munitions gauges required for the inspection of shells before they could be accepted by the War Office. The gauges fix the limiting sizes permitted of the various dimensions of the shells, and are required to be of great accuracy themselves. In most cases the actual gauging dimensions are re- quired to agree with their nominal value to three ten-thousandths of an inch. Many difiiculties had to be overcome before the work of calibration could be performed. The most fundamental difliculty lay in the absence in Aus- tralia of length standards of known accuracy. The various standards at hand were compared and weighed by Professor Lyle, and he established a provisional standard. End and line standards were made in accordance with this by Mr. Grayson and sent to England and America for measurement at the National Standardising laboratories. The errors in the Melbourne Uni- versity provisional standard were found to be very small, and not nearly enough to affect the accuracy of gauge measurements. Mr. Grayson’s great mechanical skill was most valuable in other ways, as he was able to construct many special pieces of apparatus. including two comparators. As nothing had hitherto been done before in Australia of a like nature, suitable methods had to be devised for measuring up the gauges with such apparatus as could be made or bought. METALLURGY. An investigation on the manufacture of ferro-alloys was undertaken at the request of the Federal Munition Committee, and a committee consisting of Messrs. A. J. Higgin, E. B. Brown, W. N. Kernot, and E. C. Rennie was appointed. These alloys are necessary components in certain kinds of steel, particularly in “high-speed" steels, of which there was a shortage. The possibility of the manufacture of these alloys from ores which could be obtained in Australia or from any other available source was therefore a subject of much importance. The alloys made were ferro-‘chrome and ferro- 19 158 tungsten, the former from ore procured from Noumea, and the latter from Australian ores. For the reduction and refining of these alloys, two electric arc furnaces were constructed and set up in the Metallurgy Department. The larger furnace had a normal input of about 70 kilowatts, and very high tem- peratures were obtained. As a result of the researches, a considerable quantity of ferro-chrome and ferro-tmrgsten was made. This work is being followed up under the Advisory Council of Science and Industry.

LAW. Professor W. Harrison Moore acted as special adviser to the Common- wealth in International Law.

ARTS. Dr. A. Lodewyckx rendered valuable service in connection with the Defence Department by the interpretation of documents in Romance, Scan‘ dinavian and Slavonic languages.

HOME SERVICE LIST. C. W. Joy, B.C.E., filled the position of radiographer, at No. 3 Aus- tralian General Hospital, and devised important improvements to the X-ray bulb stand. NATURAL PHILOSOPHY SCHOOL. The most important piece of work carried out by members of the Natural Philosophy School was connected with the design of the Melbourne Univer- sity Respirator, of which an account is given in another paragraph. The mechanical details were tried out, and the efl‘icacy of the respirator against chlorine gas was demonstrated with apparatus made by the workshop staff of the department. The supervision of components and of filled containers of some 10,000 respirators was also successfully carried out. A stand for the support and manipulation of X-ray bulbs was designed, and stands made to this design were installed by the Defence Department in various military hospitals. In connection with the manufacture of the Berry hand grenade, some 12,000 feet of mining fuse were inspected by means of X-ray photographs.

ENGINEERING SCHOOL. It is merely a truism to say that the war was an engineer’s war, and it follows that the Engineering School had to take its share in advising on modes of procedure, in testing materials and appliances, and in developing inven- tions of a warlike nature. The members of the stafi from the outset determined that all their work should be a free gift to the Empire, and during the whole period of the war their time and energy was always available in an honorary capacity. 159

To detail all the spheres of activity entered into would require more space than is available, but the main classes of work undertaken can be classified under the following heads:— (a) Members of staff acting on various war committees. (b) Free expert consultation work on war matters. (c) The testing of materials for their suitability for use in the manufac- ture of munitions of war. ((1) Developing designs of warlike appliances. (6) The manufacture of special machines and of hand grenades. (f) Students’ work in connection with the above. From the outset it was evident that the School would lose large numbers of students, and soon after the war commenced all the advanced classes were practically empty, while the only full year was the first. As soon as the student reached the minimum age he was longing to be away to the front, and as soon as his parents would say Yes he enlisted. In many cases rejects During the war the Defence Department required some special engineer- ing drafting work to be done in an emergency. The School provided twelve men with boards and appurtenances practically on the spur of the moment. These men spent three solid weeks measuring up' and detailing aircraft at Point Cook. Incidentally they gave up a vacation in doing so, but the work fully justified the sacrifice. When equipment was scarce the Defence Department found in their stores two portable wireless sets; these were brought to the University, thoroughly overhauled and repaired, and sent out to do service in Gallipoli and Mesopotamia. Operators were also trained in the detail and use of the engines, generators, and the electrical equipment. _ The workshop of the School was in constant requisition in the develop- ment of various inventions. The detail design and construction of the W'ackett automatic fuse setter is an example of this class of war work. Two different patterns of this machine were made, tested, and sent by the Defence Department to Great Britain. The local supply of “coppers” used for testing explosion pressures in guns having run out, a compression machine was designed and constructed. This machine, after a little adjustment, produced “coppers” of a fully satis- factory character. The cement laboratory was at one time converted into a manufactory for hand grenades. Equipped with a number of special machines, a foreman and staff made large numbers of Berry hand grenades, packed them in spe- cially designed cases, and forwarded them to the other side of the world. The first working drawings of an 18—p0und shell for the use of the Munitions Committee were made at the School, and afterwards drawings of shell details and gauges were worked out. To help forward the production of Ferro-alloys the Engineering School constructed two electric furnaces, with their equipment, and installed them in the Metallurgical Laboratory. These furnaces have been used throughout the investigations undertaken in the Metallurgical Department. Tests of the strength of steel and timbers for use in shell and aeroplane construction were conducted in the Testing Laboratory. The large testing machine was continually requisitioned for war work. 160

Standard weights were required in order to determine the exact limits of weight of the 18-pound shell. These were designed, manufactured and adjusted to a fine degree of accuracy at the School, and are now kept as standards by the Defence Department. At another time the Defence Department had the design of transport waggon wheels under consideration, and the services of the Engineering De- partment were called into requisition in connection therewith. Tests were made and an investigation undertaken in order to determine the most suitable form for adoption. Bnanching into another sphere of war work, in connection with the Bomb Committee, the testing of explosives was conducted in a specially constructed bomb-proof shelter in the University grounds. The charges were modified and tested until the most el’ficient results were arrived at. Members of the staff acted on many War Committees, among which may be mentioned»— Federal Committee for clearing and dispatch of some 5000 munition workers to Great Britain. The Bomb Committee, which investigated inventions in regard to bombs, hand grenades, and catapults. The Committee for the Selection of Standard Chassis for Motor Ambu- lances. The Federal Munitions Committee appointed two of the members of the Engineering Staff as consulting members. The Dean of the Faculty was a member of the Arsenal Committee and a member of the delegation of experts who visited India to enquire into their arsenals. The delegation was away from Australia for a period extending over three months. He also acted as consultant to the Defence Department in connection with War Patents. The work undertaken by the various members of the Staff was often of a very special character, involving secrecy and dispatch, and at times it was no easy matter to keep war work and University classes going on at the same time. And now that the classes are full and overflowing the staff is working under as full pressure as ever, helping the men to make up the work lost while they were away at the front.

THE MELBOURNE UNIVERSITY RESPIRATOR. The many practical problems concerning respirators had occupied the attention of several physiologists before the war in different parts of the world In Melbourne considerable experience had been gained with the Zuntz, mouth- piece and nose clip used in conjunction with an absorbing box. This was improved upon, and a handy box respirator containing soda-lime absorbent was devised by Mr. W. J. McCaw, late laboratory assistant in the Department of Physiology. ,When news arrived in Melbourne that the Germans were employing gas, and presumably chlorine, as a deadly agent of war, a committee was appointed locally to suggest some form of protection. This committee consisted of Professors Laby, Masson and Osborne, of the University, and commenced 161

work promptly in June, 1915. The result of their conjoint labours was that, starting from the McCaw respirator, they devised a handy and well finished box respirator, with effective valves containing soda-lime as absorbent. In addition, a form of rubber rimmed goggles was recommended to protect the eys. This was tested in every imaginable way, including actual wearing by its inventors in a trench dug in the University grounds, and filled with chlorine gas, and also with sulphur dioxide gas. The complete specifications and samples were despatched from Melbourne on August 11th, 1915. The Muni- tions Committee of the Defence Department took up the respirator, and after some delay, due to local difficulties connected with material, ten thousand were manufactured, with connecting tube, suspension cord, nose clip, and goggles "all complete, packed in an oblong box. Each part, including the enclosed absorbent, was made locally, and the whole assembled in the Natural Philo- sophy Department of the University-no easy task! These respirators were sent at the earliest possible date to Europe. Unfortunately, by the time they arrived other gases, not absorbed by soda- lime, were being employed by the Germans, and the Melbourne University Res- pirator was not put to use. But there is some reason to believe that the effort was not made in vain. It is certainly interesting that shortly after the arrival of this respirator in England the official design was changed, and one highly suggestive of the Melbourne pattern adopted. Professor Starling wrote at the time that the Melbourne respirator was “probably the best yet produced." Professor Haldane, of Oxford, than whom there is no greater authority on the subject, expressed to the writer in February, 1917, his high opinion of the design. The history of gas warfare has yet to be written, and those responsible for the Melbourne University Respirator look forward with con- siderable interest and a certain amount of assurance to the facts that will one day be disclosed. W.A.O.

(BEBE

Pl Skylark at messines.

Triumphant soars thy song again, Thrilling the morning light; That flames on skies dark aftex rain, Bursting the bars of night; The tattie-crash is hushed and still As twilight’s faded west; No whining sheil blasts this bleak hill, The tortured earth has rest. Singer of peace and happiness, Abide with us who long For thy pure melodies to bless This sullen world of wrong, Where brightest dreams fall withered, dead, The false gods strangle truth, And bitter years run deep and red With blood of martyred youth! 162

Prophetic voice! I hear in the: Hidden in raying gold, Man’s spirit pealing victory To haggard earth grown old, Disfigured with the ghastly yield 0f centuries of sin. 0 voice ab0ve the battlefield The mighty years begin!

The song is dead, the sun is lost, In thickening cloud and gloom; The ruined earth is twisted, tossed— A desecrated tomb, Dark, hopeless, evil is the world; I hear the guns’ hoarse breath, And (overhead again are hurled Pain, desolation, death. -—C.W.

EEEEI

Tunes.

“. . . . those men who saw their duty clearly in the beginning and who accepted it! Some of them were poor, without education, and with few chances in life ... Some of those men, in their last moments——-as the charged up some bitter place to throw the enemy from his stronghold, or no less gran 1y stood at the corner of some trench, h‘old- ing it a moment longer for Britain~—-in those ast moments, in their cramped ,souls. many new windows were opened, I walrant.”—Sydney dc Loghe. Darkness and night, and wounded earth, unseen With silent trenches o’er her breathless breast. Now, for the hundredth time the slow wind sighs Over the parapet, and many men Curse under breath, or pray, or wonder, calm, How the last breath is taken. Lagging time At last draws on the mark, and breath is free; So with the dawning all the line springs up In a great brotherhood; the charge sweeps on; All life is on a cloud, and former ways Seem cast beyond a gulf, a Iprevious death. Ah, now, he finds a great reward who dies, If in the last glad moment left of life The soul-cramp leaves him, and he breasts the height, Laughing his triumph over freedom’s land. ... When Death looks up and fears to count his gain. . BC D. . .

l‘onn & Son, Printers, 372 e 314 Drummoud strut. Carlton, Melbi

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