William Dunstan, who shared the risks and the honours with Burton, generously gave much of the credit to his dead comrade. ‘I don’t know that I did anything out of the way’, he said, ‘but Burton won it all right.’
News of Burton’s death reached his parents in the first week of September and the Euroa Gazette sounded a jingoistic note when it recorded: ‘Mingled with the sorrow of his relatives, there should be pride that, at any rate, he showed no “white feather”, but answered his country’s call nobly and at once.’
The Victoria Cross, announced six weeks later, was sent to his father with a letter from the king. Dated 12 January 1916, it read: ‘It is a matter of sincere regret to me that the death of Corporal Alexander Stewart Burton deprived me of the pride of personally conferring upon him the Victoria Cross, the greatest of all military distinctions’. Burton’s father wore the medal at a homecoming reception for Fred Tubb in April 1916, when he told the audience he was wearing it ‘for his boy’s sake’, and pledged always to wear it on special occasions.
Alex Burton has no known grave. He is commemorated on the Lone Pine memorial. He is also remembered in Euroa, where, on 16 December 1934, Lord Huntingfield, Governor of Victoria, dedicated three English oak trees to the memory of the district’s three VC winners – Burton, Fred Tubb and Leslie Maygar, who won his award during the Boer War. At the same time two hills along the highway leading to Longwood were christened Tubb Hill and Maygar Hill, while the Euroa Bridge was named Burton Bridge.
Fifty years later, when road works threatened the destruction of the oaks, three more trees were planted in front of Euroa Civic Hall and dedicated in memory of the three VC winners. Burton’s VC, which had been worn with such paternal pride by his father, was presented by the family to the Australian War Memorial in 1967.
Frederick Harold Tubb was born on 28 November 1881 at St Helena, Longwood in Victoria, the fifth of ten children, to Harry Tubb and Emma Eliza (née Abbott). Both his parents were English-born, and his family could trace its ancestors back to thirteenth-century Cornwall. Tubb’s parents, both of whom were teachers, settled in Longwood in 1875, a year after they were married. They lived in a two-storey house, originally built as a hotel, which Tubb’s father, being a keen student of Napoleon, named St Helena. As well as teaching at the old and new Longwood State schools, the Tubbs took a 320-acre holding between the old and new town. Fred Tubb attended his father’s school, obtaining his merit certificate, and then managed the family’s farm before working his own land at Longwood.
At 5ft 53⁄4 in, he was the smallest of the four sons (another son had died aged six) but possessed a competitive streak which made him a successful sportsman. Giving a brief resumé of his life and interests, shortly after his VC award, he stated:
Have played all games since I was able, and at 16 played senior football. Very keen and fond of sport, and have always taken a prominent part in Victoria … Very fond of shooting, and have a good record for rifle, game and trap-shooting (at pigeons, starlings etc). Have been on the land all my life, on my father’s property … also have landed interest myself.
An extrovert whose popularity was not confined to male company, Tubb shared his father’s interest in military affairs. On 20 June 1900, while his elder brother Frank was serving with the Australian Contingent against the Boers, he joined the Victorian Mounted Rifles. Later, he recalled: ‘We supplied all our own horses, outfit, uniforms, etc. No pay of any sort.’ After two years’ service, he joined the Commonwealth Light Horse and served with them for nine years, rising to sergeant.
When the Australian Compulsory Service came into force I transferred to the 60th Battn. of Infantry [November 1911], because I was then in that area. As the Citizen Force grew our area was strong enough to form a Battalion [the 58th] under Lieut-Colonel H.E. Elliott. He was the CO of the 58th when I got my commission and transferred to the 7th Battalion, Australian Imperial Force.
Fred Tubb was commissioned second lieutenant on 2 December 1912, and enlisted in the AIF on 24 August 1914. Appointed 7th Battalion Transport Officer, he accompanied the unit to Egypt where he was promoted lieutenant on 1 February 1915. Although he embarked with the battalion to take part in the landings, Tubb remained aboard ship with the transport and returned with it to Egypt. He did not set foot on the peninsula until 6 July, when he arrived as a replacement B Company commander. A month later, on the day of the assault on the Lone Pine position, Tubb was promoted captain.
After the battle, Tubb was treated for shrapnel wounds to his head and left eye as well as a bullet wound to his left elbow at 2nd Australian Field Ambulance station on the beach at Anzac. On 11 August, after a day-long wait, he was evacuated aboard the hospital ship Gascon. In his diary he noted: ‘I don’t like going away for many reasons, but the doctor and the CO say I must and that I am not to come back till I am quite well. The CO was grand about it.’ Taken first to the Blue Sisters Hospital in Malta and then England, he was reported ‘practically recovered’ by the end of September and on 4 October was sent to Lady Clementine Waring’s convalescent home in Lennel. It was while recuperating there that he learned of his VC. Some time afterwards, Lady Waring remembered:
I can see him now, his whole personality radiating vitality and energy … He came with two other Australians, all three had been wounded at Gallipoli. On that first evening it was whispered to me that he had been recommended for the VC … I can see his wrathful face and blazing eyes as he turned to refute the statement: he was ever modest … The life of the convalescent is necessarily uneventful, yet it is in a hospital that one so speedily realises and appreciates these characters, like ‘Tubby’s’, were cheerful, helpful and resourceful.
Tubb spent the day of his VC award with officers of the King’s Own Scottish Borderers in Berwick. On his way back to Lennel, his car was intercepted at Coldstream Bridge and he was carried off to a reception organised by Lady Waring. She recalled:
‘Tubby’ remained speechless, overwhelmed. Finally in a broken voice, he murmured a few incoherent words of thanks, and espying my small two-seater car nearby, leaped in with an imploring ‘For God’s sake get me out of this!’ and whirled off through the gates.
Despite the medical board’s initial report, Tubb’s recovery proved slow and painful. While his battle wounds healed quickly, he suffered a bout of bronchitis and was afflicted by severe stomach pains. Eventually, following further spells in hospital, he was admitted to 3rd London General Hospital with appendicitis. On 28 December, he underwent an emergency appendicectomy, which left him with an incision hernia that proved a source of great discomfort. Expected to be unfit for even the lightest duties for at least three months, Tubb was invalided home to Australia. He arrived to a hero’s welcome in April 1916 with crowds greeting him at Euroa and Longwood. The Euroa Gazette estimated that almost every resident for miles around attended his home-coming at Longwood which was ‘en fête’ for the occasion. As a band struck up ‘Home, Sweet Home’, Tubb was carried from the station that had been specially decorated in his honour. Later, at a civic banquet, Tubb told of the exploits of his fellow citizens and concluded: ‘I am a very lucky man and hope soon to get back. I want nothing better than for more Euroa and Longwood boys to come back with me.’
Despite his wishes, however, Tubb did not immediately return to the 7th Battalion. His health continued to be a cause for concern. In May, at a medical board, he complained of ‘occasional severe pain all over (his) abdomen’ and admitted to feeling ‘depressed during these attacks’. Doctors considered the combined effect of his wounds and illnesses to have reduced his capacity for earning a living by a quarter, but Tubb refused to sit back and do nothing. That same month he did a stint as bombing instructor at Duntroon Military College and followed up with a morale-raising tour of army camps. Eventually, he persuaded a medical board to pass him fit for active service and he left Australia on 2 October. Two months later, on 10 December, he rejoined the 7th Battalion.
After a spell at the 4th Army
School, Tubb was promoted major on 10 February 1917. While on leave in June, he fell sick again and spent six weeks in hospital. Discharged in August, he was back with his unit in time for the Australian participation in the Third Battle of Ypres on 20 September. The day before leading his company’s attack on nine German pillboxes south of Polygon Wood he had experienced considerable pain from his hernia, resulting in his brother and fellow officer, Frank, being authorised to replace him. But he had refused to stand down. Instead, displaying his customary dash, he had captured and consolidated his objective before being hit in the back by a sniper. It was while being carried back for treatment that the hero of Lone Pine was mortally wounded by a piece of shrapnel from a British shell. According to his service record, he was still alive when he reached 6th Field Ambulance dressing station and was evacuated soon after to 3rd Canadian General Hospital at Boulogne where he was reported dead on arrival. At some point, however, his body was returned to Belgium for burial in Lijessenthoek military cemetery and where his headstone carries the moving inscription: ‘Our dearly loved son and brother called to higher service’.
The news of his death cast a shadow over his home town of Longwood. The sanctuary of the church was draped with flags, white flowers and black hangings, and an officer’s sword and laurel wreath were placed on the Litany desk. At a memorial service, attended by a congregation almost as large as the home-coming crowds, the rector took as his text St Paul’s words: ‘I have fought a good fight. I have finished my course, I have kept the faith.’
Lady Waring, with whom Tubb had spent his last English leave as a guest at Lennel, later wrote: ‘The manner of his death came as no surprise to those who knew his gallant spirit, and I, for one, feel certain it is the death “Tubby” would have desired.’
William Dunstan, the only one of the three VC winners from the defence of Goldenstedt’s Post to survive the war, was born on 8 March 1895, at Ballarat East, in Victoria. He was the fourth child, and third son, born to bootmaker William John Dunstan and Henrietta (née Mitchell). His father was born in Ballarat of Cornish mining stock.
The family lived in Cameron Street, Golden Point, and William attended the Golden Point State School. An intelligent boy, he attended the local church, where his father was a leading figure, and belonged to the Golden Point Gymnasium Club. He left school aged fifteen, and became a clerk at Snows drapers in Ballarat. His great interest, however, was military matters, and the following year he joined the Army cadets, rising to the rank of cadet captain before transferring to the 70th (Ballarat) Battalion as one of the youngest lieutenants in the Citizen Forces.
When war broke out he was serving as Adjutant of the 70th Battalion. His unit spent the early days of the war digging trenches around Queenscliff, Portalington and Point Nepean, where the only excitement was the seizure of Australia’s first prize ship, the German merchantman Pfalz. Dunstan’s initial attempt to join the AIF was rejected on account of his age. But so desperate was he to get into action, he quit his job, resigned his commission in the Citizen Forces and on 2 June 1915 enlisted as a private. He was courting his future bride, Marjorie Carnell, at the time, and family legend has it that her mother, who evidently considered the Dunstans figured rather low on the social ladder, told him: ‘You can marry my daughter if you come back with the VC.’ Apocryphal or not, Dunstan left Australia on 17 June as an acting sergeant in the 6th Reinforcements of the 7th Battalion.
Following a brief stay in Egypt, Dunstan joined Lt. Tubb’s B Company on 5 August while preparations were under way for the attack on Lone Pine. Initially reverting back to the rank of private, Dunstan was appointed acting corporal the same day. Badly wounded in the head during the defence of Goldenstedt’s Post, Dunstan was blind when he was transferred by hospital ship to Alexandria on 13 August. He had been on the peninsula less than a fortnight. Invalided back to Australia in September, he gradually regained his sight, but such was the seriousness of his injuries, particularly to his left eye, a medical board meeting in November recommended the by then sergeant-major Dunstan for discharge and pension. Throughout his prolonged period of treatment and recovery, Dunstan said nothing of his actions. The first word of his exploit came from Chaplain William McKenzie, the legendary ‘Fighting Mac’. In a letter from Gallipoli, intended to ease his parents’ worries about his injuries, McKenzie wrote:
Willie Dunstan met me the day of his arrival here. I urged him to write home right away, which he did. I was sorry that he had not been delayed one week longer. However, he was awfully glad to be in it – the charge which eventuated at Lone Pine Ridge on 6th August. While he was not in it, nor any of the 2nd Victorian Brigade, they came in to relieve us on 9th and 10th, and they had a very trying time with bombs from the Turks. They suffered terribly, and had over 300 casualties. I may say that Willie and another did such fine work in bomb-throwing and held out in a trench against a very determined attack of the Turks, that both are recommended for the Victoria Cross. The other young man was eventually killed. Willie was severely wounded with bomb wounds, but not at all dangerously. He will suffer considerable pain for a couple of weeks, or even four, but will probably be as right as possible again in six or seven weeks’ time. He proved himself a capable, intelligent, intrepid young warrior in his first fight. It was one of the most desperate and stubborn nature. There is no need whatever to worry about him. He is doing all right. There is every reason to feel proud of such a son.
A little over a month after his return to Australia, the announcement of his VC turned him, much against his will, into a local celebrity. A total abstainer and staunch Methodist, he found the media attention overwhelming. Cajoled into attending a reception at the Coliseum, Ballarat, he confessed to one civic dignatory: ‘I would rather again stand before the Turkish guns and bombs than appear before the big crowd in the Coliseum … What have I done? What is it all about?’ Dunstan appears to have been genuinely surprised and embarrassed by his award and the fuss it created. Civic honours were showered upon him. His old employers presented him with a gift of fifty guineas, but Dunstan could take no more. When it was announced that a memorial fund was to be opened in his honour, he wrote declining it. In a letter, published in the local Press, he explained:
I cannot see where there is any necessity for such a course, and, secondly, I think the public have quite enough calls on their purse … I only did my duty and one does not wish to be recompensed for that. I do not wish to appear ungrateful, but I really could not accept any such public offering … I consider I am more than fortunate in being able to return to my home and receive such honors [sic], which I am sure, are due to hundreds of other Australian soldiers, who may not, like myself, have had the opportunity of coming into the limelight, or, perhaps, had the opportunity but have been killed.
One ceremony he could not avoid was the presentation of his Victoria Cross. The investiture, performed on the steps of Parliament House, Melbourne, on 9 June 1916, was one of the largest and grandest staged during the war. After receiving his Cross from the governor general, Sir Ronald Crawford Munro Ferguson, he acknowledged the congratulations of the crowds, who included Dame Nellie Melba, and then made a dash to escape their attention.
Dunstan had been discharged from the AIF on 1 February 1916. Immediately, he rejoined the Citizen Forces as a lieutenant and area officer based at Ballarat. He served as acting brigade major of the 18th Infantry Brigade and, in 1921, he transferred to the 6th Battalion. Placed on the unattached list in 1923, he joined the reserve of officers in 1928 and retired with the rank of lieutenant.
On 9 November 1918, Dunstan married his pre-war sweetheart, Marjorie Carnell, in Ballarat East. The newly-weds spent their honeymoon in St Kilda, watching the Armistice celebrations from their hotel room window. Unlike so many of the war’s heroes, Dunstan did not slip back into obscurity. Instead, he forged a new and successful career in commerce. After a period spent working in the repatriation department, he joined Keith Murdoch’s Herald & Weekly Times Ltd as an accountan
t in 1921. Within thirteen years he had become administration general manager for the entire Herald Group, a post he held for nineteen years until his war wounds forced him to resign and accept a directorship. According to his son Keith, who became a journalist and author, Dunstan was gregarious,
a man with an immense number of friends and as general manager of the Herald & Weekly Times Ltd quite dynamic in business. Immediately World War II broke out he contacted General Blamey and expected to be given a command. He was disgusted when he was rejected on medical grounds.
In fact, the painful legacy of his VC action remained with him until the end. His son has written:
He had shrapnel permanently in his brain and for the rest of his life he suffered from terrible headaches. When the headaches came there was no sleep and as children we were told to move very quietly about the house. The entire household was aware of his suffering.
For whatever reasons, Dunstan rarely if ever discussed his war experiences, even with members of his family. His VC, together with his other decorations, remained, for the most part, hidden in a cupboard under the stairs.
A keen racegoer and active supporter of the Australian turf, Dunstan was, with fellow VC holder Rupert Moon, co-owner of a racehorse called Maid of Money. It was while returning from the Caulfield Races, on 2 March 1957, that the last-surviving member of Tubb’s gallant band collapsed and died of a heart attack.
More than 800 people attended a memorial service in Christ Church, South Yarra. They included seven VC holders from the First World War. A mile-long cortège followed Dunstan’s ashes to their last resting place at Springvale crematorium, where a guard of honour from the 1st Armoured Regiment fired a three-volley salute. Among the many tributes was one from the prime minister, Robert Menzies, a close personal friend, who said: ‘We have lost a man who was brave, capable and friendly.’ Lt. Gen. Sir Sydney Rowell, a former chief of the Australian General Staff, added: ‘He was one of the most modest VC winners the world will ever know … One had to know Bill Dunstan well to realise the depths of his character and personal modesty.’
VCs of the First World War Gallipoli Page 23