Recollections from the Home Front

‘As soon as Australia entered World War One the government offered a force of twenty thousand soldiers to the British government for service overseas. This number was regarded as adequate in view of the initial prediction that it would all be over and back to peace in a very few months.

There was a rush to enlist. In my district on the South Coast entirely devoted to dairy farming, most farmers employed a farm hand and most of these had been taken in as twelve year old wards of the state under an arrangement in which they were allotted to farmers to be brought up as one of the family, sent to school, fed, housed and clothed, in return for which they were expected to help with milking before school and at weekends. Most of these lads continued on as farmhands on leaving school and at age 18 were free to change employers and move to another farm. There was a stampede of these young men into the army; it no doubt presented to them their one charge to break away from a possible lifetime milking cows and ploughing.

Few sons of farmers volunteered. In most cases the loss of the farmhand was regarded as sufficient sacrifice and milking had to carry on twice a day for every day of the year. Not one of the 40 volunteers from the district was a married man.

WWI had none of the impact on a country community other than the appalling casualty lists which were experienced 25 years later in the Second World War. There was no control and direction of manpower, no rationing of petrol, food and clothing, nor restrictions on the use of various commodities as imposed in 1939-1945.

The army was the only service open to general enlistment. There was no Flying Corps recruitment as most entrants transferred there from the Infantry and Light Horse overseas; the Navy was well manned and few ships were added to it during hostilities and there were no women’s services.

Radio and TV were both over the hill in the dim future, and the daily newspapers had to be relied upon for news of overseas events. These usually appeared with banner headlines reporting ‘Mighty Naval Battles’ or ‘Forty Thousand Enemy Killed’ so it is understandable that rumours abounded, a frequent on being that the battle cruiser ‘Australia’ and several of our light cruisers had returned to Sydney with blood stained hulls and funnels burnt off by furnace heat after a high speed chase in which several enemy ships had been sunk. Many families bought no newspapers.

Edward Weston (Bert’s grandfather) was instrumental in raising the first Illawarra troop of Lancers at Albion Park on the South Coast. The local troop of pre-war Light Horse, with about fifty members and four officers, continued to hold monthly parades and field manoeuvres throughout the war years; only two troopers and one officer joined the AIF. The troop was composed mainly of young farmers whose interest lay in maintaining a fine cavalry horse and showing him off on parade. There was the opportunity to complete in military tournaments …Then there was the annual military ball, all polished buttons and badges and a brass band. Eventually a quick firing pom-pom was added to the troop and the cliff around Yellow Rock received many a plastering of shellfire.

In the early years of the century the officers included Col Colin Dunmore Fuller, Theo Grey, Hector and Jack Raftery. The first named, as Colonel Fuller for a time commanded the 6th Australian Light Horse overseas.

Following spy scares sparked off by reputed flashing of signal lights seawards from the Illawarra Range, the Light Horse was at times sent out on bivouac and said to be looking for enemy agents.

‘German’ sausage was renamed ‘Devon’ and the town near Albury named Germantown was changed to Holbrook.

A feature of the recruiting campaign was the various marches converging on Sydney from remote country areas and snowballing as men joined up en route. The first of these, the ‘Cooees’, marched from Gilgandra with a handful of men and a scratch band and moved in trucks to the outskirts of each town. They would then form up and march in to the local hall, hold a rally that night and move out next morning with any new recruits who would continue on to the city and then be allowed home to settle their affairs before training commenced.

One such trek ‘The Waratahs’ started from the far South Coast and was two hundred strong when it finally reached our small town and Agricultural Hall (Albion Park). Hay was supplied to fill sleeping bags and the district turned up in force to provide a hot meal and a few items for the concert afterwards. Then, following a recruiting speech, a couple of volunteers came forward and marched out next day. The members of that march were kept together in one unit and suffered dreadful losses in France.

In one war loan drive, two lorry cases covered in with plywood to resemble British tanks and manned by Treasury officials toured the country soliciting funds and the district flocked in to buy Bonds to help finance the war.

In Sydney there were daily recruiting rallies in Martin Place and a feature of these was the presence of saddled but riderless horses, and the speeches and posters exhorted men to fill an empty saddle.

Many a young office worker went along for a lunch hour listen-in and under the spell of an army band and the wheedlings of a team of girls would find himself perched on a horse and facing army life.

Various concert troupes, formed of wounded returned men, were set up which visited country towns on recruiting and fund raising drives, one of their number usually being a recent VC winner. Members would be billeted overnight with local residents as there were no offers.

One such party to visit our community was called ‘The Gallipoli Strollers’ and included in the team was Marsha Little, composer of ‘Boys of the Dardanelles’, Harley Cohen who composed and sang a couple of wartime hits and Bert Earl who at one time was Nellie Melba’s pianist. Snowy Howell was the accompanying Victoria Cross holder. These activities together with the establishment of Infantry and Light Horse training camps at nearby Kiama gave us our main contact with the war.

The first local soldier to return from overseas for discharge after stopping a Turkish bullet at Gallipoli was the plumber’s son (Bob Parkinson) and what a welcome he received. He stepped from the evening train to find the station yard crammed with horse drawn vehicles and two motor cars in one of which he headed a mile long procession to the local hall where tables loaded with edible ammunition awaited the attack.

Afterwards a long series of speeches by the mayor, stationmaster, headmaster, postmaster, bank manager and storekeeper plus thanks from Bob and his father must have left the warrior wishing that he was back in the front line. The same welcome was turned on as others returned and the war years rolled on, and culminated in a mighty general welcome to all when the war ended and the troops came home’.

Source: Weston, Bert, Recollections from the Home Front, Shellharbour City Museum collection.