Bearing Witness

by Peter Rees

  Bean returned to his new quarters in an old brewery at Querrieu, grieving for Bailey and unhappy at Monash’s promotion over White. With that move, a fuse of a different kind had been ignited.

  36

  An assessment of character

  Will Dyson, Hubert Wilkins and Fred Cutlack returned from dinner to find a dismayed Charles Bean. They had heard rumours about Birdwood leaving the command of the Australian Corps and asked Bean if he knew. That was all the incentive Bean needed. He ‘blurted out’ his news from Birdwood: John Monash was to replace him as commander of the Australian Corps, and Brudenell White would move with Birdwood to the British Fifth Army. ‘There was immediately a great consternation—war correspondents, artist and photographer sitting back around their table with their caps on the back of their heads and discussing what was best to be done.’

  They talked through ‘the relative merits of White who does not advertise, and Monash who does.’ Cutlack could not understand White’s attitude. He thought White ‘must know’ he was the best man for the command of the Corps, and couldn’t understand why he did not push for the job. It seemed to him that White had let himself be overshadowed by Birdwood. Cutlack conjectured that there ‘must be something wanting in White.’ Dyson, too, focused on White’s attitude—to do the job and not worry about himself—which he saw as a weakness, but preferable to thrusting himself into the front rank. Dyson, who seems to have shared Bean’s misgivings about Jews, said during the discussion: ‘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.’ At the same time, Dyson saw something positive in this: ‘I’m not sure that because of that very quality Monash is not more likely to help win this war than White.’ Bean summed up the mood of those present—which effectively meant making ‘every effort’ to ensure White got the job because ‘Monash would leave no stone unturned and no underground channel untried—rightly, according to his lights’—to win the promotion. Fred Cutlack proposed a strategy: why not Monash for GOC AIF, and White for GOC Australian Corps? Dyson liked the idea and thought that something could be done to bring this about. According to Bean, ‘We decided that I should go to England, taking him with me, to see Murdoch and try to get this alternative adopted. Everyone was decided that if Birdwood accepted the command of an army, and outside interests, he ought not to continue in command of the AIF.’

  As Bean prepared for his meeting with Murdoch, the Australian Government agreed to all of Birdwood’s proposals. Bean argued against the new arrangements in a long statement that he intended to show Murdoch. He said that if Birdwood went to command the Fifth Army he could not continue as head of the AIF, which needed its commander’s full focus. He added that the ‘universal opinion of the Corps is that Gen. White is the best commander of operations in the AIF, and that Gen. Monash’s greatest power is his administrative capacity.’ If the new arrangements went ahead, ‘White though recognised as more brilliant in active command’ would be lost to the service of the AIF to take a ‘subordinate post’ in the British Army. Bean continued: ‘The course which is obviously best for the AIF and which would have the full and immediate approval and confidence of the whole command would be for Gen. Monash to have the supreme administrative command Gen. White the supreme active command.’

  Bean’s thinking was influenced by his closeness to White from the early days of the war. He respected White’s self-effacing personality, which, no doubt, he saw as much like his own. White had excelled in the planning and supervision of the Anzac evacuation, the most successful operation of the disastrous campaign. On the Western Front, it was generally recognised that he effectively ran the Anzac Corps. Birdwood might well have exercised command through regular and direct contact with the men, but his administration and organisational skills were weak and his tactical acumen suspect. White not only lacked these shortcomings but had stood up to Haig after he rebuked I Anzac Corps staff following a failure at Pozières in July 1916. In the extreme winter of 1916–17, when there was an urgent requirement to build camps, roads and railways, White understood the need to provide for the comfort and well-being of the troops. He came to wield unprecedented influence, but his reputation for getting things done may have worked to his disadvantage, as some thought he was being kept back because of his usefulness as a staff officer. Monash, meanwhile, had learned from his early performance at Gallipoli and had built a reputation in the field on the Western Front.

  When Bean next met Murdoch, he found him piqued by Birdwood’s refusal to continue helping him out in France. He told Bean that Birdwood made it quite clear that the objection came from White. Bean, however, contended that White had only one object in mind and that was to stop Birdwood ‘being slandered by outsiders, generals and others’ who alleged ‘he liked to make a friend of Murdoch because he was a powerful man.’ Bean knew that this was ‘more than half true,’ but Birdwood, instead of taking responsibility for accepting White’s advice, had written to Murdoch putting the onus back on White. This was a complication Bean had not foreseen. ‘The consequence is that Murdoch is not very enthusiastic about White—apt to think he is anti-Australian or lukewarm. However I left him half persuaded.’ Dyson also went to see Murdoch about the issue and, according to Bean, ‘left him quite convinced.’ Yet another complication, which Murdoch had pointed out, was that if the two positions of administrative and active command of the AIF were split the unpopular General James McCay would ‘be after it by every underground channel open to him,’ including through his friend Acting Prime Minister William Watt. Bean knew that Birdwood had told McCay that his becoming Corps GOC was out of the question, and that Hobbs told Birdwood he would resign immediately if it occurred. Bean thought that ‘the mere fear of one man’s personal efforts ought not to drive Australia from the right track.’

  Returning to France, Bean told White he was convinced that the new arrangements were wrong and asked him to pass this on to Birdwood. A few days later Birdwood sought a meeting with Bean about his objection to Birdwood’s remaining GOC. ‘He put it to me that there was not a whole day’s work for one man in the office of the GOC, AIF; that he had been promised that always, if the exigencies of the war allowed it, the Australian Corps should be in his army.’ Bean told Birdwood he could not agree. Later, Murdoch confirmed that he had wired Watt and Prime Minister Hughes as per the draft telegram, and there had been immediate action. Hughes, who was in America, had wired Watt asking him and Pearce to hold the decision up until Hughes and his deputy, Joseph Cook, arrived in London. ‘But Murdoch is afraid it may be too late,’ Bean wrote. And it was—although Australian censorship delayed publication of Monash’s appointment for nearly a month in case the decision was overturned.

  With his command of the Fifth Army still temporary, Birdwood handed over command of the Australian Corps to Monash on 31 May, retaining administrative command. Two days later, Bean wrote to Murdoch, lamenting that the changes in the administration of the force and of the Corps ‘seem to have been definitely approved and accomplished . . . and there is no chance whatever that they should be altered in the direction which . . . would have been best for Australia.’ The only option was to support the changes, even though he could not reconcile himself to the loss of White. In the letter, Bean was ever the cricket tragic in portraying the situation:

  That the biggest and ablest influence in [the AIF], the man who has been far more the father of it than any other, should after four years be suddenly and simply lost to it will always be, in my mind, a big mistake on the part of our Government. Still, it is done. There is no present possibility of undoing it. The team has suddenly given up, without a word, its Trumper. But Monash is a very capable man, a Clem Hill or a Bardsley. And as he is there now and further change would do no good, as things are, I intend to work loyally by him.

  On 6 June Murdoch attempted to flatter and charm Monash, explicitly suggesting that if he accepted the GOC AIF post, he would be promoted to full general. He al
so reminded Monash that his cables went to 250 newspapers. Birdwood and Monash, however, were not to be bullied or bribed. Shortly after, Bean met Murdoch, who reaffirmed his commitment to overturning the new AIF command structure. ‘Look here old chap, I’m up to my neck in it,’ he said, adding that he was a ‘fine chap to enter a fight with!’ Bean told him that Monash could now not be replaced or removed without his own consent or it would destroy confidence among the divisional and brigade leaders. Murdoch agreed, but remained strongly opposed to Birdwood’s remaining GOC AIF now that he had gone to an outside army. Bean noted that Birdwood had written to Murdoch saying: ‘I have often told you that I foresaw that some day you would oppose me. I daresay you will beat me, but I warn you, I shall make a hard fight before I die.’ Bean told Murdoch that he ‘would be in with him in opposing that for all I was worth.’

  Before he returned to France shortly after, Bean again met with Murdoch. They agreed that if Monash wanted to keep the corps no effort could easily be made to persuade Prime Minister Hughes to take any other course. Further, ‘That if necessary we would suggest White for GOC AIF, but that the ideal to be aimed at was Monash as GOC AIF and White as GOC Corps.’ Bean knew that ‘a big fight over this question’ was now inevitable, and he too was up to his neck in it. He gave Murdoch a memo for Hughes, urging the Prime Minister not to give final agreement to the changes until he had read it. Bean argued that Australia could not afford to lose White, who had been ‘more than second in command of the AIF from its birth, and who probably possesses more experience than any one else of its problems in the field.’ Many staff officers might be capable of being chiefs of staff to an army, but White’s special value was obviously to the Australian Army. He continued:

  . . . It is suggested that with Gen. Monash in command of the Australian armies abroad with the rank of full general, responsible to the Australian Government for all the great questions concerning the AIF, and with Gen. White in command of the Corps, Australia would have a system under which her policy in great affairs concerning her army would he well provided for, and her active army under most capable direction.

  Two days later, matters came to a head when Bean met Monash to congratulate him on his promotion to temporary Lieutenant General. The meeting was tense. Monash wanted to know if Bean had seen Murdoch. ‘I told him that I had and that I thought Murdoch was right.’ Monash responded that he had always been on friendly terms with Murdoch and that he thought it was cruel of Murdoch to attempt to deprive him of the high active field command. Haig had told him that he had every confidence in him, Monash said, and had added ‘that even if the Australian Corps had not been vacant he would have been quite prepared to give Monash a place anywhere amongst his Corps Commanders.’ Monash said he would not accept the position of GOC AIF in London and would prefer to go back to Australia than be removed from the corps. Bean told him that at this point there was no question of trying to remove him from the corps against his will. ‘I sketched to him the very big things that were to be done by a GOC AIF and that were not at present being done. The Australian Government really ought to have a big administrator in that position, and it would not be too much to give him the rank of General. White was a brilliant man for operations but was not so suitable for the administration. Monash was capable of both—the ideal thing would be Monash as Administrator and White in the Corps.’ Bean believed that Monash was ‘unquestionably inclined to consider this favourably.’ He had written a letter ‘warmly objecting to Murdoch’s proposal,’ but Bean felt ‘he was more than half swung round in this conversation.’

  Later, Bean saw Birdwood’s adjutant general, the gruff Thomas Dodds, who, although a strong supporter of the ‘Australianisation’ of the corps command, told Bean he was ‘not happy about having Monash in the Corps and not White.’ He was not happy about losing White because ‘the Corps and the men in it would be safer under White than under Monash.’ This accorded with Bean’s view. Dodds told Bean that Birdwood, after his appointment, had cabled Australia that if the Government thought he must give up the GOC-ship on taking on an army, he would give up the army. The Australian Cabinet had wired back agreeing to his keeping both. Bean noted that although this ‘alters our obligation to Birdwood very considerably,’ it did not mean the changes should go ahead. Bean left for London to lobby Hughes, admitting to ‘constant anxiety of the campaign’ on which he and Murdoch were embarked. He took heart from Murdoch, who was ‘a strong chap,’ but he knew the coming days would be tough.

  Hughes sought Bean’s and Murdoch’s opinions of Birdwood, saying the British general ‘did not strike me as a man of great intellect’ but as someone ‘relying more upon social arts.’ White, on the other hand, did impress Hughes with his intellect, and Monash was ‘a man of very considerable capacity.’ Hughes made it clear to Bean and Murdoch that his overriding aim was to do what he thought best for Australia—‘for the force and the men in it.’ That night over dinner he told Murdoch that Birdwood must, in Australia’s view, take either the AIF or the Fifth Army.

  Bean and Murdoch agreed that the problems facing the administrative command of the AIF were so great that it must be separated from the operational field command, and that Birdwood could be offered whichever role he wanted. But Bean was sure he would take neither. At the back of his mind was the conviction: ‘The Corps and the men in it are safe with White; he will put great ideals into it and the spirit of real devotion. Monash is a man of very ordinary ideals—lower than ordinary, I should say. He cannot inspire this force with a high chivalrous patriotic spirit—with his people in charge it would be full of the desire to look and show well . . . There is no question where the interest of the Australian nation lies—it lies in making White one of its great men and makers.’ Bean’s reference to Monash’s ‘lower than ordinary ideals’ probably reflects Bean’s rather moralistic attitude to the general’s well-known affair with Lizette Bentwich in London.

  Monash wrote to his wife about the intrigue aimed at removing Birdwood from the position of GOC AIF: ‘. . . they want me to take it, and hope to bribe me with the offer of further promotion. But there are very strong reasons why I should proceed very cautiously before delivering myself in this way into the hands of this particular clique.’ A few days later he wrote again, saying that the intrigue was gaining momentum and ‘taking all sorts of subtle forms.’ This included ‘putting about a propaganda that Brudenell White, being a professional 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’:

  My own personal view is that I cannot relinquish the Corps Command, until I have made a proved success of it, without impairing my prestige and, further, without a certain amount of infidelity to [Birdwood]. I propose, therefore, to fight them on their own battle-ground and to insist upon retaining the Command of the Corps. 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 [General Henry] Rawlinson and the Chief [Haig] will see me through.

  Rawlinson played a clever game, keeping his true feelings well hidden from Monash. Shortly after the war, when Rawlinson thought that Sir Edwin Montagu, the Secretary of State for India, might oppose his appointment as Commander-in-Chief in India, he wrote to his former Chief of Staff of the Fourth Army, Major General Archibald Montgomery: ‘I read him as a clever, slippery, creepy crawley jew who will always back you if he thinks you are winning and have no scruples about sticking you in the back if he thinks you look like a loser . . . He is clever and intelligent but his knees knock together when trouble is about. Edwin is not unlike Monash! We know how to manage his sort.’

  Monash regarded fighting the intrigue as ‘a great nuisance . . . in the midst of all one’s other anxieties,’ but he held a virtually unbeatable hand. Hughes decided to visit the AIF in France towards the end of June before making any decision. He would see both Monash and White while there. On hearing of this, Bean wrot
e to White ‘the strongest appeal I could think of. No other general has failed to come round to our side when we explain what are the reasons for the change—they are every one of them so far convinced that we are right. It is a great confirmation of our opinion to see how they all come round to it.’ In the letter, Bean acknowledged the ‘division of opinion that there is between us,’ saying this was the first time such a schism had occurred.

  And I say that in the interests of our old Australian soldiers, and to our country, it is not fair of you to leave them nor of General Birdwood to have suggested that you should do so. You and I know and General Birdwood knows that our men are not so safe under General Monash as under you . . . I know the character of you two—the plus and minus in each, and I know and I think you should know that it is not fair of you to leave our men . . . You know as well as I do that you would put a higher ideal into the Australian Corps than General Monash is capable of.

  The letter finished, he caught a taxi to the post office to ensure it would make the next mail to France. ‘I was happier when the letter was gone, for to my mind the case is so convincing that it must carry its way even with White.’ Bean knew that White, once he had made up his mind, rarely changed it—and his mind was made up.

  37

  An ill-judged intervention

  If Monash needed an ace to play, it came at the attack at Hamel. Prime Minister Hughes and his deputy, Joseph Cook, arrived at Monash’s headquarters, at the village of Thérouanne, in northern France, on the eve of the battle. Bean observed, ‘Old Monash certainly has his arrangements well made.’ Bean sensed that he and Keith Murdoch were being outplayed. ‘It was of course a very anxious day for Murdoch and me. We knew that there would be a great offensive conducted against our suggestions for the command of the AIF—and there was.’