Our Great Hearted Men

by Peter Brune

  Murdoch must surely have briefed Birdwood and White of Haig’s reason(s) for denying an Australian Corps, as when Haig met Birdwood, White and Howse (Major-General Howse, VC, Director of Medical Services, AIF) on 29 October 1917, Birdwood and White negated Haig’s argument by suggesting that the AIF’s grave shortage of reinforcements might be remedied by either the disbandment of the 4th Division, or using it as a depot division which could be replaced by any of the other four divisions that had incurred the heaviest casualties. In the meantime, they argued, the need for such a disbandment might be avoided by the upcoming conscription referendum, or a change of fortune in recruiting. On 1 November 1917, Haig adopted that proposal. He decided that Birdwood’s former ‘I Anzac’ Corps would be renamed ‘The Australian Corps’ and would consist of the 1st, 2nd, 3rd and 5th Divisions, AIF. In line with Birdwood and White’s suggestion, the 4th Division would act as the Corps depot division.

  The opportunity for an Australian to command their corps came in October 1917 when Birdwood, through the retirement of older officers in the Indian Army, was promoted to full General. On 13 May 1918, Haig posted him as the Commander of the BEF’s re-established Fifth Army. In recommending his successor, Birdwood saw three realistic options: Generals Monash, White and Hobbs. Hobbs he eliminated first. Although that officer had commanded the AIF’s 5th Division from January 1917, and subsequently through its distinguished fighting at Polygon Wood in the spring of that year, followed by its recent stirring success at Villers-Bretonneux in April 1918, Birdwood considered Hobbs ‘might find difficulty in standing alone’ in a corps command.8 In the end, it would appear that Birdwood had two reasons for his final selection of Monash: first, Monash was senior to White, and that soldier’s reputation as a divisional commander within the AIF, and his standing with Haig, was high; and second, although Birdwood believed that White was most capable of exercising a corps command, he was—possibly through a measure of self-interest—keen to see him remain with him as his new Chief of the General Staff, Fifth Army, with an accompanying promotion to Major-General. A further reason for Birdwood’s decision might well have been to maximise his chances of retaining the administrative command of the AIF. Haig concurred with Birdwood’s selection of Monash, White’s promotion to the Fifth Army with Birdwood, and the latter’s retention of the administrative command of the AIF—subject to the Australian Government’s endorsement.

  In a further move towards an ‘Australianised’ Corps, Birdwood decided to promote and post Colonel Thomas Blamey to succeed White as Chief of Staff; Brigadier-General Glasgow (13th Brigade) to command of the 1st Division; Brigadier-General Rosenthal (9th Brigade) to the 2nd Division; and Brigadier-General Gellibrand (12th Brigade) would take command of Monash’s 3rd Division. In mid-May 1918, Birdwood cabled these proposals to Senator Pearce in Melbourne. They were approved by the Australian Government on 18 May.

  We now come to one of the most extraordinary intrigues in Australian history. On 16 May 1918, Charles Bean, on his way to Boulogne, called in at Corps HQ at Bertangles Chateau, where a staff officer told him that ‘there were great changes imminent’.9 Hearing Bean’s voice, Birdwood called him into his office and proceeded to brief him. In his diary Bean noted that: ‘If White has a great value to the British Army he has a greater value to Australia. I have been thinking out the straightest strongest telegram I can to Pearce.’10

  Late next day, Bean arrived at the Australian correspondents’ HQ at Brewery Farm, Querrieu, north of Amiens. When he was joined by the official AIF artist Will Dyson, the photographer Hubert Wilkins and Fred Cutlack, Bean’s Assistant War Correspondent, Bean ‘blurted out about White & Monash’.11 According to Bean’s diary there was ‘a great consternation’ evident in the opinions of his three colleagues. Cutlack saw White’s acquiescence to Birdwood’s choice of Monash as proof that ‘there must be something wanting in White’. He could not understand why White, knowing that ‘he was the best man for the job’ had not sought the position.12

  Bean then described Dyson’s views in his diary:

  Dyson’s tendencies are all towards White’s attitude—‘Do your work well—if the world wants you it will see that it has you; anyway that’s not your job—your job is to do the work & not worry about yourself.’ Dyson thinks it a weakness, but he likes it better than advertising strength which insists on thrusting or insinuating itself into the front rank. He [Dyson] says: ‘Yes—Monash will get there—he must get there all the time on account of the qualities of his race; the Jew will always get there. I’m not sure that because of that very quality Monash is not more likely to help win this war than White—But the manner of winning it makes the victory in the long run scarcely worth the winning.’13

  The three believed that in gaining the Corps command, Monash would have left ‘no stone unturned & no underground channel untried—rightly according to his light’.14 Hence they decided that if White was not inclined to promote himself, then they would. According to Bean’s diary, Cutlack then suggested what had already crossed Bean’s mind—but was unable to state in his cable to Pearce in Melbourne—that Monash should assume administrative command of the AIF in London (with a possible promotion to full General) and White should be given the Australian Corps command. This solution would also resolve the problem of Birdwood serving two, at times conflicting, interests—those of Australia and the AIF, and a BEF Army command of purely British interests. The meeting decided that Bean and Dyson should travel to London and enlist Murdoch’s help.

  This was an extraordinary gathering. Bean’s curious third-person description of the meeting in his diary sets the scene with the statement that the ‘war correspondents artist & photographer [were] sitting back around their table with their caps on the back of their heads & discussing what was best to be done’.15 The mere fact that two war correspondents and an artist might consider themselves qualified to influence such decisions—made by the GOC AIF, endorsed by the C-in-C BEF, the elected Australian Minister of Defence, and then by the elected Australian Government’s Cabinet—smacks of a rare form of ignorance, arrogance and misjudgement.

  Bean and Dyson arrived in London at 10.30 pm on 18 May 1918 and, finding Murdoch was in Scotland, Bean stayed at Major-General Howse’s London flat, to compose a statement for Murdoch ‘& possibly Howse’.16 Bean’s reference to Howse is noteworthy, as not only was Howse a firm friend and admirer of White’s, but he had had a dispute with Monash during the latter’s command of the 3rd Division.17 Howse’s role in these events is, however, unclear. That day Bean received news from AIF HQ London that all of Birdwood’s recommendations had been approved, and that White was required to stay at Corps HQ for six weeks to assist Blamey’s transition to his former role.

  When Bean did meet Murdoch his brief to him was severely flawed. In his Official History, Bean claimed that he and Dyson ‘eventually swung’ Murdoch to their cause. It would not have been easy, as Murdoch saw White as the cause of him being denied a visit to France. He claimed that: ‘The Australian element on Corps Hqrs [sic]—the very one which ought to have fought for more representation for the Australian papers—Birdwood specially states that it is White who has raised this objection to our being there.’18 Using his notes prepared the day before, Bean pointed out to Murdoch that White was the ‘greatest soldier’ in the AIF; and that Monash was recognised ‘as having very great administrative ability’ but it was White who was ‘the best commander of operations in the AIF’. He further claimed that such views were ‘the universal opinion of the force’.19 The stark truth is that White had never held a field command and that Bean’s assessment of White and Monash was far from being ‘the universal opinion of the force’.

  Murdoch subsequently cabled Hughes, who at that time was on his way to the Imperial War Conference in London via the United States, asking that the appointments be made temporary until Hughes’s arrival in England. Further, an additional cable from Birdwood reached Pearce stating that the War Council ‘had decided that his appointment t
o command an army was only temporary’.20 Charles Bean would later express the opinion that: ‘It seems probable that this development may have been due to Murdoch’s direct influence with Sir Henry Wilson, Chief of the Imperial General Staff, whose confidence he enjoyed.’21 Three points should be made concerning the two cables. First, Keith Murdoch had taken Bean’s brief as accurate. While his initiatives towards the formation of an Australian Corps, and his push for the ‘Australianisation’ of that Corps were both just and effective, Bean had quite simply given him untruths concerning Monash’s appointment. Second, the fact that Birdwood’s appointment had now also been made temporary would seem to indicate that Birdwood still harboured some doubts as to the desirability of leaving the Australian Corps; and that he wanted to retain his administrative command of the AIF. The third point concerns Murdoch’s extraordinary power. At a crucial stage in the war, just after the Allies had sustained a seemingly crushing defeat after Operation Michael, we note that an Australian journalist, holding no elected or official government title, was able to influence not only Australian policy, but, it would seem, the professional head of the British Army. The reader is entitled to ask why government policy was at times influenced by a civilian journalist in London. Bean claims that although the proper channel for such counsel should have been the realm of the Australian High Commissioner in London, Andrew Fisher, that ‘Murdoch’s position was partly due to the sad, gradual collapse of Fisher’s mental powers’.22

  The blame for this abominable chain of events must lay squarely with Prime Minister Hughes. While on the one hand Hughes and his government were demanding a degree of justifiable independence, and a voice in their political and military affairs, the Prime Minister’s behaviour reflects a gross Australian political immaturity—journalists, artists and London correspondents should not formulate or influence national policy. And high commissioners who are suffering from a ‘gradual collapse of . . . mental powers’ should be replaced.

  Prior to Hughes’s arrival in London, Monash became aware of the attempts to remove him from the Corps command. On 18 June he wrote that:

  Among my present enclosures is a copy of a letter. This letter is one of the evidences of a very serious introgue [sic] which has recently been started in London, in order to try and oust General Birdwood from the position of G.O.C., A.I.F.—You will notice from the letter that they want me to take it, and hope to bribe me with the offer of further promotion.23

  On 25 June Monash wrote that:

  This intrigue referred to is going on apace and is taking all sorts of subtle forms . . . In order to bring this about they have started an attempt to attack my capacity to command the Corps, and are putting about a propaganda that Brudenell White, being a permanent soldier, would be better fitted for this job, and that it would be in Australia’s best future interests that he should get the appointment.

  All these proceedings are being undertaken in London, in order to bring pressure to bear upon Mr. Hughes . . .

  In this battle I possess of course very many, and very strong cards, and some of them are trump cards—among which is my undoubted belief that both Rawlinson and the Chief [Haig] will see me through.24

  Hughes had arrived in London with his wife and daughter on 15 June 1918. Relegated to a footnote in the Official History, Bean states that: ‘Murdoch invited Lord Milner, Mr. Bonar Law, and Sir Henry Wilson to meet Hughes at a private dinner party on his arrival in London, in order to enable the Australian Prime Minister “to secure a thorough grip of the situation”.’25

  This was a prestigious and influential gathering. Although there would seem to be no record of what was discussed, it is highly likely that Hughes was given some sort of briefing as to the conduct of operations on the Western Front (and the high casualties), and an assessment of Haig’s command of those operations, and it is probable that the issue of Birdwood’s command of the Fifth Army and whether or not he might retain his position as GOC AIF would have been raised. Although conjecture, it is hard to believe that Bean and Murdoch’s desire for Monash to succeed Birdwood and White to command the Australian Corps would not have been raised. Thus, when Monash would write a few days after Murdoch’s dinner party that he possessed ‘trump cards’ and that Haig’s endorsement of his command of the Corps ‘would see me through’, he could have had no idea that Murdoch’s intriguing was occurring at the highest political and military level.

  The efforts of Murdoch and Bean continued. Murdoch, greatly underestimating Monash’s desire to command the Corps, attempted to persuade him to accept the post in London by praising his administrative skills and by pointing out that he might be promoted to full General. In desperation, Bean wrote an impassioned letter to White:

  You know and I know and Gen. Birdwood knows and everyone knows, that our men are not as safe under Gen. Monash as under you. You know that no-one will safeguard them against a reckless waste—or useless waste—of life in impracticable or unnecessary stunts, or will get so much effect out of them in a good stunt—as you can or would.26

  Through all of these events, White maintained a dignified distance, and there is no evidence that he at any time sought to influence events, or further his own cause.

  In the end, despite a voluminous swapping of letters and cables, both from Murdoch and Bean on the one hand, and by those in support of Monash on the other, Hughes arrived in France on 1 July 1918 to visit the troops and to assess the command issue. He was accompanied by Murdoch and the Deputy Prime Minister, Joseph Cook. A bank clerk from Warialda, New South Wales, Corporal Clifford Geddes, 13th Battalion, was present at one of Hughes’s visits:

  We were addressed by two of our Australian politicians . . . Billy Hughes & Joe Cook. Little Billy made a good speech, there’s no doubt he’s a marvellous man, he hasn’t the strength of a child to look at, is a poor, thin, miserable, misshapen [sic] looking chap, & his head is the biggest part of his body, but his eloquence is there. I don’t know how he stands the life, continual worry & speechifying. Joe Cook made a speech too . . . General Birdwood was there, I like ‘Birdy’, he gave me a friendly nod, not that he knows me, but he’s not a bit like a general with the boys. Generals Monash & McLagan were also there.27

  After the ‘misshapen looking chap’ had made a number of visits to the troops and talked to staff officers and three divisional commanders, he realised that there was very considerable support for Monash, and pointed out to Murdoch that he had not been able to find anyone who did not support him. And when Monash made it abundantly clear to Hughes that he would not voluntarily surrender his new command, Hughes decided to postpone his decision.

  In the end, the truth is that Bean had allowed his personal respect and indeed his great affection for White to cloud his judgement; Dyson and Cutlack had been his willing but ignorant collaborators; and, most importantly, Murdoch had allowed himself to be inaccurately briefed, and had engaged in unscrupulous manoeuvres to reverse a considered decision made by those responsible for it.

  In his sixth volume of the Official History, among a whole host of inaccurate criticisms of Monash the man and the soldier, Bean would claim that Monash ‘had not the physical audacity that Australian troops were thought to require in their leaders . . .’28 Peter Pedersen has left us with a striking image of Monash when Bean would have first met him:

  His short stature—he was only 5 feet 8¾ inches tall—drew attention to his weight, about fifteen stone, giving him a decidedly corpulent, almost ponderous and certainly unsoldierly appearance. His face suggested ‘both strength and sensitivity. He had a prominent Jewish nose and his limpid brown eyes, watchful and intelligent, were his most unforgettable physical feature’. His hands were highly expressive, adding another dimension to a voice usually quiet and contained. When in conversation, or just listening, he had a peculiar way of standing with his chin thrust forward and his head hunched.29

  In simple terms, although Monash managed to lose a considerable amount of weight from the time of his arrival in England,
in Bean’s eyes he lacked the racial, cultural and physical attributes found in an Imperial Briton with Clifton values, whose character had been redefined and enhanced in the harsh Australian environment identified by Bean in On the Wool Track and in The Dreadnought of the Darling. Through Bean’s eyes, despite whatever military virtues Monash possessed, he was no Brudenell White.

  In the end, the position of GOC AIF was resolved after Haig suggested that Birdwood retain that position but be on loan to the BEF’s Fifth Army until 30 November 1918. The Armistice, coming nineteen days before that date, meant that General Birdwood retained command of the First AIF.

  The intrigue and disruption during this command saga could not have been more poorly timed. After having assumed command of the Corps, Monash and his staff had been busily engaged in plans for a limited operation on their Amiens front. The leadership of the newly formed Australian Corps was about to be decided once and for all.