Charlie also wrote:
… I got a letter from Geordie last week, he is getting on fine and was quite well when he wrote … Geordie did not say how Amos or Ewin Johnson were getting on, I was expecting a letter from George Collison who was wounded on the 7th but so far nothing has turned up. Albert Sinclair is in England and was likely to go home. I wrote to the Roberts again and hope they get their letters if you see them you can tell them that I wrote to them, Les Cant from Milloo was wounded and I believe he is in England. Young Hill from Calivil is camped about a mile from here, he came over one night but I did not see him, Percy says he is a corporal, Les Townsend is a Lance-Corporal on the M Gun … Well I will ring off for this time we are getting on fine and get plenty to eat. I will say goodbye with love and best wishes, I will remain
Your loving son & brother
Charlie E Marlow
Albert Sinclair was a 29-year-old married farmer from Durham Ox who had enlisted on 13 March 1916 and sailed on the Shropshire. When he arrived in France he became ill and returned to England where he convalesced until September 1917. On 13 October he was gassed at Passchendaele but recovered and returned a week later. He was wounded by gunfire on 17 July 1918. No longer fit for battle, he left England for Australia on 20 November 1918.25 His brother, Jack Sinclair, was a 23-year-old farmer who had also sailed on the Shropshire. On 22 October 1917 he sustained a gunshot wound to the head and returned to Australia in January 1918.26
Percy now penned a letter to Jim in which he enclosed a note marked ‘Private’. He felt it was time he asked his family to overcome their disapproval of Charlie’s sudden marriage:
In the field
June 30
Dear Jim
… Glad to hear you had a good time at the fair Jim, I dare say you had a girl or two, you saw Alice, I suppose you had a bit of fun. Well Jim, we are further back from the line now, we are drilling, have to go fairly solid, we had a half day off Saturday, but it was too wet to go anywhere, so we stayed in the tent, there are thirteen of us in a tent, round tents its fairly warm. The weather is a lot cooler than it has been, we have had a fair bit of rain lately. There is going to be sports here soon, it will be a bit of a change from drill, one item that will be interesting that is a Mule race, bare back they are tricks to ride. There is a cricket match on tonight between the 38 and 37 it is going on now. Yesterday was Sunday, we were to have church parade in the morning, but Fritz put a few shells over so they put it off, great idea church parade in the morning, and drill in the afternoon. Well Jim I have no more news so I will ring off hoping you are well I remain your loving brother
Percy
Private
Dear Jim
Well Jim old sport, you are a bit solid on Charlie, don’t you think, in one letter he got from you today you were letting things fly, you ought to know that it hurts especially when you are so far away, he has been going off a bit about it. I had to hide two letters I got from you I knew if I showed him he would have went off pop. Charlie broke the news about the new arrival, just fancy you being Uncle Jim.
On the day Percy wrote to Jim, Charlie received a cable with news of the birth of his daughter, Beatrice Eva, on 6 June. The message arrived in London on 11 June but took almost three weeks to reach Charlie. His joy must have been diminished by the criticism he continued to receive over his marriage and now also his fatherhood. Some exchanges hint at both financial concerns and political differences as the cause of some tension. In Australia at the time, political and religious divisions had deepened as the conscription debate polarised the community, perhaps also a symptom of broader social issues that lay at the core of the divide. Nonetheless, Percy admonished his brother Jim, telling him that such letters were harsh and distressing for Charlie; a lack of family support when life was so tenuous was callous and unfeeling, particularly since this was a young man who had simply followed his heart.
It unclear whether the brothers were aware that they were soon to become uncles, nor is there any evidence that the family at home had any idea, for the letters reveal no hint of Pearl’s pregnancy prior to the arrival of Eva, as was her preferred name. Later letters from his brothers would suggest that Charlie had kept the news of the pregnancy to himself. Nonetheless, it would be difficult to imagine, at least for her paternal grandmother, that the arrival of Eva had not been cause for celebration. For Charlie, like so many young Australian fathers serving their country in foreign fields, the birth of a child would bring great joy tempered by the anxiety imposed by distance and the uncertainty of life inherent in war.
As Charlie received his joyful news, the 38th remained under fire while occupying the rear areas at Regina Camp behind Ploegsteert Wood. Long-range enemy artillery could reach up to 25 kilometres and periods of rest were rarely completely safe. The Germans were well aware of the location of the camp and, as the incidence of artillery fire increased, the men were relocated — fortunately just prior to heavy shelling of the camp. The 38th moved to the foot of Mount Kemmel on the banks of the Douve River close to the location of General Plumer’s headquarters which, for the duration of the Messines Offensive, was buried deep in The Lettenberg, a 97-metre-high rise which formed part of the side of Mount Kemmel. This point was a significant observation post providing a commanding view of the front line from Messines over Wytschaete to Ypres. It was here that the men rested, competed in sports competitions and enjoyed the relative quiet while Haig’s preparations for the next phase of the Flanders campaign continued.
* * *
BELGIUM 2011
It is a glorious spring day as we traverse the area around Messines and Mount Kemmel and, with the sun on a southerly path, I struggle with my sense of direction and wonder how the Australians adjusted to the change in 1916. We find our way to Hill 60, today a poignant memorial to those who perished in the blowing of the mines and the subsequent fighting that erupted all along the Messines Ridge on 7 June 1917. Hill 60 rises, as its name suggests, just 60 metres above sea level and was formed from the spoil of the deep railway cutting that runs along its side. The rise provides a clear view across to Ypres in the west. Little wonder the Germans fought so fiercely to hold the feature. They would have no need for intelligence, balloons or aircraft to tell them what the Allies were planning, they need only peer over the parapet. Little wonder then that Haig was compelled to push the Germans off the ridge to ensure the success of his Flanders plan.
The memorial to the 1st Australian Tunnelling Company at Hill 60. Bullet holes from the fighting during World War II pit the surface (author photo 22 April 2011).
My father and husband stand alongside the remains of German fortifications on Hill 60 (author photo 22 April 2011).
We move towards Hill 60, past the memorial to the 1st Australian Tunnelling Company. The scars of World War II are clearly evident in the bullet holes that pit the surface. We walk through the massive crater some 18 metres deep and 79 metres wide, testament to the force of the explosion. Surrounding it are undulating dips and rises, lumps of concrete left where they fell after they were blasted to the sky. We stand in awe of the remains of a menacing pillbox and examine the rusting steel reinforcement protruding from concrete close to a metre thick in places. Today Hill 60 is green and quiet. Under the soil along the ridge where 19 mines exploded at 3.10 am on 7 June, 10,000 German soldiers lie, their bodies never recovered.
Just ten minutes’ drive south-west of Hill 60 are the excavated remains of Bayernwald trenches (Bavarian Wood) close to Wijtscahte. These were fortified German trenches that included the entrance to a tunnel and concrete bunkers. It is an eerie feeling walking in the footsteps of the soldiers and looking out across the fields from the top of the shallow trenches. Beyond the farmland, perhaps only three kilometres away, is Lettenberg Hill, a spur of the larger Mount Kemmel and the site of General Plumer’s headquarters during the Battle of Messines. Four large bunkers are set into the hill, the entrance to the tunnel system that was the headquarters. The exterior is pocked with
bullet holes, many a legacy of World War II. One bunker is marked with a red cross while another has communication wire protruding from the thick concrete. It is at the base of these hills, on the Douve River, that the 38th rested following the battle of Messines.
Bayernwald trenches (author photo 22 April 2011).
On our way to Ypres, some ten kilometres from Kemmel, we drive through a roundabout which was once Hellfire Corner, heavily and relentlessly shelled by German artillery. This intersection lay on the main route through which Allied soldiers approached the front, rushing through with transports and supplies, praying that God was on their side that day. I recall a conversation with retired Lieutenant Colonel Jack Swatton who had commanded the 38th Battalion post-World War I. Jack had been a transport driver responsible for delivering ammunition and supplies to the front line. He described the route as hell; he would leave for the front with a team of horses and he would never return with the same number.
A first aid post in the Lettenberg bunkers, built into the side of Mount Kemmel. The bunkers served as Allied Headquarters (author photo 23 April 2011).
We had come to Ypres to visit the Menin Gate Memorial at the eastern entrance to the city where the names of close to 60,000 Commonwealth soldiers are commemorated, soldiers lost in the mud, missing, with no known grave. When the imposing memorial was constructed in 1927 it was not large enough to contain the names of all those who had been lost in the Ypres salient. Some 35,000 missing from 15 August 1917 are inscribed on the wall at Tyne Cot Cemetery near Passchendaele, including all those from the New Zealand and Newfoundland forces. The numbers are staggering. The gate stands over the Menin Road in the old walls of the fortified city where ramparts and two stone lions once guarded the entrance. The restored lions of the original ramparts usually guard the entrance to the Australian War Memorial in Canberra but have briefly returned to Ypres for the commemorative period of the World War I centenary.
The historic Menin Gate at Ypres (author photo 22 April 2011).
Australian soldiers trudged through the ruined city, past the decimated Cloth Hall and cathedral and past the lions, on their way to the battlefield, or through Lille Gate further to the south. We wander through Grote Markt. Like the thousands of visitors every year, we eat ice-cream in the square, buy Belgian chocolate and later have a Belgian beer in a sidewalk café. We are amazed by the enormity, medieval design and symmetry of the Cloth Hall and cathedral, both reduced to shells in the war but rebuilt on the original foundations. Inside the thirteenth-century Cloth Hall, so named for its function in centuries past, is the sombre Flanders Field Museum.
As evening draws near, we walk to the gate with throngs of others. We are all here for the moving Last Post ceremony. Since the memorial was unveiled in 1927, uniformed firemen from Ypres have played the Last Post here every evening at 8.00 pm. The ritual was briefly interrupted during the years of German occupation when Belgium fell to the invading forces. Tonight the police arrive and close the busy road for the gathering crowd. It is just three days until Anzac Day. The Australian naval cadets march in, Australian schoolchildren lay wreaths and Australian veterans read the Ode. As always, the haunting Last Post triggers emotion as, in the shadow of the gate, I reflect on lives cut short, futures lost and the thousands of husbands, brothers and sons who were never found. As dusk falls and the Last Post echoes I stand in silence; the enormity of the tragedy that unfolded here is overwhelming.
THIRTEEN
HE HAS DIED A HERO AND NOT A COWARD …
FRANCE, JUNE AND JULY
George remained in the south around Amiens and the village of Albert during June and enjoyed a period of relative quiet. In the fine weather, various sporting events were held while training continued, including lectures on the prevention of venereal disease, the rate of which was alarmingly high among Australian troops. George does not mention such lectures although he will almost certainly have encountered these at the school where he was currently being instructed.
France
June 15 1917
Dear Jim
… I have been away from the unit for about 10 days I am at a school of instruction and wont be going back for a few days yet. I haven’t heard from Amos or Ewin yet but there might be a letter from them when I get back. My word its red hot giving that fellow a send off and only being in Mologa such a short time, they ought to use their brains a little and give it to the red cross instead of throwing money away like that. I sent a small parcel home by the last mail I hope you get it. The other lads have been in an attack so I see by the paper and seems to have been a great success, I was in that part of the line 12 months ago and it used to be lively there then, I have an idea that I will meet them soon. I suppose the Price’s will be cut up on hearing that Jack is killed, I was in the same part of the line where he was killed, we went in after them it was the worst fighting that I have been in, that[s] where Ewin was wounded although he was half a mile behind where I was and Amos was hit before we went in there, in a much quieter part, I was buried but didn’t affect me in any way …
George wrote home again a few days after King George V arrived to inspect his dominion troops on 12 July. Within a week, George would be preparing for a move north in preparation for the next stage of Haig’s Flanders plan. After 19 months of absence from home, this was, as he remarked in his letter to Jim, his opportunity to finally see his brothers.
France
July 16 1917
Dear Mother Father & Brother
A few lines to let you know I am still going strong and hoping all are well. I received my last letter from you about a week ago dated the 28 April, there has been some from Australia sunk since then and we were notified some our mail that we sent away from the 21 to 31 May have been sunk. I wrote two in that time I sent a small parcel at about the first of June so I think it will be safe I am sending another one soon with a belt with badges of different regiments also some other little things. I got a letter from Charlie a few days ago saying that he got a cable to say he had a daughter fancy being an uncle now, they were all well. Archie Bailey is back with the battalion again I am going to see him tonight as his unit is not far away. I saw a letter from Ewin Johnson this morning he is out of hospital now and has had his furlough he went to Scotland he is now in camp out at Lark Hill, I suppose he will soon be back as they don’t leave them over there long now as they want the men over here different to when we first came to France they used to leave them in England a long time when they got wounded, you will understand what I mean when I answer this question that Jim asked me in his last letter about what they are going to do with some of the N.S.W. troops, the answer is yes I cant put it any plainer as the censor will only cross it out, and for Poziers I cant tell him any experiences of it or it will also be crossed out and as for the other question, well I have been in every battle that my brigade has been in since we came here. I met a mate of Amos’s he said that he was in England and has a big wound in the leg I think he said there was a hole right through and that he thought Amos would not do any more fighting. Mother asked me in her letter if I had enough money while in England yes I had plenty I brought some back with me. I was glad you got the brooches, don’t loose the one of Ypres as it is a good souvenir. We were inspected by the King a few days ago. I am sending a photo of 8 of us we were at a school of instruction and had them taken they are not good but keep it as a memento of some of the lads that fought with me. Well I will now close hoping all are in the best of health.
Your Loving Son & Brother
George
Written on the back of the photo: ‘Top row l to r Bert Hawkesworth, Harry Hoskins, Charlie Edwards, Syd James, George, Joe Steel, (Buff) Braithwaite, George Brittain.’
The details of all of the men in Charlie’s photo have been difficult to confirm. Certainly Joe Steele and George Brittain were members of the 2nd Light Trench Mortar Battery and both survived. Joe was an Englishman working as a sheep farmer near Melbourne, his parents still living in Engl
and. He was 20 when he enlisted. He was wounded in August 1916 and returned to his unit but was then frequently hospitalised with scabies and influenza. He returned to Australia in May 1919.1 George Brittain was 19 years old and working as a draper at Numurkah. He was shot in the head and knee on 25 April 1918 and was repatriated in December 1918.2
Harry Hoskins, a 33-year-old metallurgist from Geelong, landed at Gallipoli on 1 June 1915. He fought there until September when he was hospitalised with gastroenteritis. He joined the 2nd Light Trench Mortar Battery in France in September 1916. Harry was shot in Belgium on 4 October 1917, but recovered from his wound. He was hospitalised again with a badly wounded finger in May 1918 and was admitted once more in October. This time he did not recover, dying from influenza on 27 October 1918.3
AUSTRALIA, JULY
Letters from Australia written to George in July reveal something of family affairs and broader social matters. The brothers’ cousin, Eddie Cheyne, describes his eighth unsuccessful attempt to enlist and highlights the debate over conscription and the religious basis for the various attitudes to this contentious issue. Newspaper reports of the situation in Russia were initially encouraging and, on 1 July, a successful offensive against the Austrians brought short-lived hope. However the Russian army was eventually defeated by German reserves and, by August, the collapse of Tsarist Russia was all but complete. Russian forces were in retreat with many units mutinying. The German High Command would be quick to turn the revolution to its advantage.
In the local Mologa community, fundraising events for the Red Cross brought fierce competition as young ladies and their sponsors vied for the crown of ‘Queen’. Pearl was unwell and Sarah’s trip to Bendigo to visit her sick daughter-in-law must surely have been a positive sign from Pearl’s new family, although Jim’s letter to George also tells of the bitter division that remained.
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