For most conspicuous bravery when in command of the right flank company I attack. He led his company to the assault with great skill and courage, and the position was quickly captured. Fighting of a very severe nature followed, and three heavy counter-attacks were beaten back, these successes being due to captain Murray’s wonderful work.
Throughout the night his company suffered heavy casualties through concentrated enemy shell fire, and on one occasion gave ground for a short way. This gallant officer raised his command and saved the situation to sheer valour.
He made his presence felt throughout the line, encouraging his men, heading bombing parties, leading bayonet charges, and carrying wounded to places of safety. His magnificent example inspired his men throughout.
At Stormy Trench the Australian 13th Battalion won one Victoria Cross (Murray’s), three Military Crosses, three Distinguished Conduct Medals and 14 Military Medals.
Bean credited the underlying success of the distinctly Australian style of discipline shown during the fighting largely to the selection of the Australian officers. Where the British officers’ selections were dependent on their social standing and school background, the Australian system was based on commanders choosing leaders from the men in their units:
… those whom they themselves would most desire to have under them in action; and, contrary to the old British rule, the general practice was for these, when promoted, to serve in their old battalions, commanding comrades whom they knew, and commanded by the seniors who knew them and had selected them.
There was therefore a natural succession of leadership built into the Australian units, which came to the fore when commanders fell in action and were almost seamlessly replaced by the logical next in line. There have been some remarkable instances of this transfer of leadership, including one notable occasion when a sergeant took command of a battalion. In May 1918, the Australian 6th Brigade was attacking the German stronghold at Ville-sur-Ancre, north of Morlancourt, trying to win the high ground to the south. The 22nd Battalion was given the task of capturing two sunken roads, known as ‘Big Caterpillar’ and ‘Little Caterpillar’. After the attack began at 2 am, the battalion was caught in heavy fire and suffered massive casualties, including all its officers. Sergeant William Ruthven rose to the occasion and took command. He led the surviving men in attacks that captured their objectives. He won the Victoria Cross for his gallantry and inspiring leadership.
Bean credits the Anzacs’ Gallipoli Commander General Birdwood with instilling in his officers an unbreakable rule that they must look after their men’s interests before their own. He acknowledges General Monash as having introduced the principle that ‘the staff was the servant of the troops’:
It was a point of honour that, at any rate when in the line, officers should receive the same food as the troops, and the platoon commander should take his meal in the trenches, among his men.
This was demonstrably different from the British habit, where officers always had a separate mess from the other ranks and this mess provided substantially better food than that available to the troops. Lawrence James in Warrior Race illustrates the chasm between the approaches of the Australian and British officers with his reference to the British Brigadier General Crozier who compared his troops to retrievers:
‘Your troops are like dogs,’ Crozier advised, ‘They require careful handling before being gradually shot over, and led up to the point of more serious work.’ There were other, equally effective techniques and Crozier approvingly singled out a colonel in his brigade who enforced ‘public school discipline’ in his battalion. In the heat of battle, Crozier resorted to draconian measures; he once threatened to shoot a ‘funker’ on the spot and actually shot dead a subaltern who was running away during a German attack in April 1918. Reports of Crozier’s quirks filtered back to his superiors, for his divisional commander vetoed his promotion ‘owing to his roughness and the ruthless way he handled his men’. Unperturbed by criticism, Crozier boasted that his brigade always held the line.
James also pointed out that while the junior officers largely shared the same dangers as their troops, they had such compensations as servants and far better access to alcohol. James summarised the difference between the British and Australian approaches:
If he was to lead effectively, the [British] officer had to isolate himself from his men, for familiarity would undermine his authority. It was different in the Australian army where egalitarian traditions of ‘mateship’ were strong. On the eve of an inspection, an Australian officer told his men: ‘Now boys, these English officers are coming to size us up today. So look smart … And look here, for the love of Heaven, don’t call me Alf.’
Many believe the connection between the Diggers and their officers which grew from their shared life and battle experience created an essential point of difference between the Australian Army and many others. The high casualty rate among the Australian junior officers is testament to this bond.
Put simply, an Australian officer had to earn the respect of his Diggers. Respect did not pass automatically with the rank. It was attached to the individual who wore the badge, not to the badge itself. This trait has passed the test of time. It was so during World War II and in every conflict since. The relationship that is subsequently built up between the respected officer and his men fosters the initiative for which the Digger is justly famed. For to motivate the Digger to take responsibility for his own welfare and that of his mates, and to actively contribute to the achievements of his unit, there must be an underlying trust.
It was this trust that enabled Lieutenant F.P. Bethune, a Tasmanian section commander, to write this famous order to his men after he had been ordered to hold his machine-gun post at all costs against the German offensive in March 1918:
Special Orders of No 1 Section 13/03/18
1 This position will be held and the Section will remain here until relieved.
2 The enemy cannot be allowed to interfere with this programme.
3 If the Section cannot remain here alive, it will remain here dead, but in any case it will remain here.
4 Should any man, through shell-shock or other causes attempt to surrender, he will remain here dead.
5 Should all guns be blown out, the Section will use Mills grenades and other novelties.
6 Finally, the position, as stated, will be held.
Lieutenant Bethune and his section survived 18 days in their position without loss.
Away from the Western Front battlefields, other Australian units gained fame for their part in a strikingly different kind of war in the Middle East. This was mobile warfare, and the Australian Light Horse and their hardy bush mounts shone in their fight against the Ottoman Empire, the same Turkish troops which had prevailed against the Anzacs at Gallipoli. The Light Horsemen overcame the heat, the lack of water, the desert and their enemy to secure the Sinai Peninsula, Palestine and Syria. During this campaign the Light Horse rode into history when they carried out the last great cavalry charge in capturing Beersheba.
By this stage the Australians were recognised as having a separate character from the other soldiers fighting in France. The Australians’ straightforward approach and larrikin humour soon won over the French locals, who called them ‘les bon soldats’ (‘the good soldiers’). The Anzacs also established a tradition that has been followed faithfully by Diggers in subsequent wars of casting a glad eye over any local mademoiselle who passed their way.
But the Diggers also caused their share of problems during their time in France, winning a reputation for unruly behaviour out of the front line. Their well-documented dislike of regimentation culminated in riots at the Etaples base camp on the outskirts of Paris in the summer of 1917, as Lawrence James noted in Warrior Race:
Australian and New Zealand troops were prominent in the disturbances, as was to be expected. All were volunteers and aggressively democratic in the attitude to officers (their own were appointed from the ranks) and notoriously indifferent
to saluting. These soldiers closed ranks in the face of the military police, whom they regularly defied; a week before the Etaples ructions, an Australian pioneers unit had appeared outside an assistant provost-marshal’s office and sung the ‘Marseillaise’.
The Diggers were soon regarded as ‘the usual suspects’ for virtually all crimes committed by soldiers in the country, their reputation developing in line with their newly acquired collective nickname. Charles Bean reported the word ‘Digger’ for an Aussie soldier was common among the Anzac troops in France by 1917 and suggested it originated from New Zealand’s gum-diggers – gum referring to the Kauri tree gum (resin). Many World War I veterans believe the name simply arose from their trench digging in France. John Laffin also suggests West Australian soldiers, who were originally goldminers, brought the word with them. Certainly, by the close of 1917 in France, the Anzacs were calling each other ‘Digger’ or, as happens so often to words in Australia, shortening it to ‘Dig’.
The Diggers’ greatest commitment and greatest sacrifices were made in France and nowhere in that land is there a better example of the impact made by the Diggers during World War I than in the small village of Villers-Bretonneux, about 16 kilometres down the road from the regional centre of Amiens on the way to the town of St Quentin. It was here on Anzac Day 1918 that the Australians recaptured the village and, in doing so, halted the German advance. Three weeks earlier, the village had been captured from British troops who had taken over its defence from the Australians. The Germans had used tanks, leading its infantry, for the first time in battle, to overwhelm the British defenders. The British then borrowed two Australian brigades to try to retake the village.
As the Diggers of the 15th Brigade, survivors of the same troops who had been decimated at Fromelles, attacked from the northeast of the village, they could see Villers-Bretonneux, or what was left of it, to their right. It was lit by the glow of a burning house. Bean describes the scene when Captain Young of the 59th Battalion gave the order to charge:
There went up from the unleashed line a shout – a savage, eager yell of which every narrative speaks – and the Australians made straight for the enemy. From that instant there was no holding the attack. The bloodthirsty cry was caught up again and again along the line, and the whole force was off at the run.
The 13th Brigade drove up from the south and the two Australian units swept past the township on either flank and then dispatched the trapped German garrison. During the fighting, Lieutenant Sadlier of the Australian 51st Battalion won the Victoria Cross for his part in destroying six machine-gun posts in a wood near the township. Villers-Bretonneux was liberated. The German Army had had its last throw of the dice. It went on the defensive after this reverse and the Digger had played a substantial role in turning the tide.
The people of Villers-Bretonneux have never forgotten the Australians’ role in saving their town. Even today, the town is redolent of the men who came from the other side of the world to help free it. A plaque outside the Town Hall sums it up:
In 1916, the Australian Army entered the Western Front with a force of 180,000 men, three times the number that had served in Gallipoli in 1915. 46,000 of the 60,000 killed in the War died on the Western Front. From a population of just 4.5 million people, 313,000 volunteered to serve during the War. 65% of these became casualties.
Down the road from the Town Hall you’ll find Rue Victoria, where the local primary school stands. It’s named the Victoria Primary School, in honour of the schoolchildren of the Australian state of Victoria, who donated their pennies to help rebuild it after it was completely destroyed in March and April of 1918. The school was eventually rebuilt in 1927.
As you walk inside the main gate you’re greeted by the universal sound of kids at play. But this playground has a message not seen anywhere else. The children swarm after a soccer ball under a large sign across the eaves of their shelter. The blue letters are half a metre high against a yellow background. They are in capitals, in English, and they read: ‘DO NOT FORGET AUSTRALIA’. On the front wall of the school hangs this plaque:
This school building is the gift of the school children of Victoria, Australia to the children of Villers-Bretonneux as a proof of their love and good-will towards France. Twelve hundred Australian soldiers, the fathers and brothers of these children, gave their lives in the heroic recapture of this town from the invader on 24th April 1918 and are buried near this spot. May the memory of great sacrifices in a common cause keep France and Australia together forever in bonds of friendship and mutual esteem.
Above the classrooms the school treasures an Anzac museum, which contains a fine collection of memorabilia, artefacts and photos commemorating Australia’s role in the liberation of their town.
Away from the town centre, along the main road to Amiens, now stands the local supermarket. On this site, from the end of the war until 2004, when it was demolished to make way for the course of commerce, stood the proud skeletal ruins of the Villers-Bretonneux Chateau. Even without its roof and much of its rear external walls, it retained the spirit of the grand life it must have presided over before the war. During the conflict, occupancy of the chateau changed with control of Villers-Bretonneux. The Germans used it for their local headquarters until the Australians drove them out and then moved in. The senior Australian officers used it as their base as they planned the great offensive by the Australian Corps on 8 August 1918. It was later handed over to the Australian Graves Unit, which was left with the heart-rending job of building the Villers-Bretonneux and Adelaide cemeteries nearby.
The Adelaide cemetery, just outside Villers-Bretonneux, past the railway crossing on the Amiens Road, was started in June 1918 by Diggers from South Australia. It contains 519 Australians, all killed between March and September 1918, including four unknown soldiers, of a total of 864 soldiers interred there. Most of these Diggers were killed in the street fighting in Villers-Bretonneux on Anzac Day 1918. Among these graves is one with the following inscription:
The remains of an unknown Australian soldier lay in this grave for 75 years. On November 2 1993 they were exhumed and now rest in the tomb of the Unknown Soldier at the Australian War Memorial in Canberra.
Villers-Bretonneux is twinned with the Victorian town of Robinvale. The link is Flight Lieutenant Robin George Cuttle, one of the early heroes of the Royal Flying Corps, who was killed near Villers-Bretonneux. He was a member of the Cuttle family, whose property was subdivided to create the town under a Soldiers’ Settlement Scheme after World War II. The name Robinvale (from vale, Latin for ‘farewell’) commemorates him. It was officially twinned with Villers-Bretonneux with ceremonies in France and Australia in 1984 and 1985.
Head back out now through the Villers-Bretonneux town centre onto the road to Fouilloy and you’ll reach the impressive Australian National Memorial. It forms part of the Villers-Bretonneux cemetery where 779 Diggers rest, including 47 unknown soldiers. Long neat lines of graves face each other on either side of a large ‘Cross of Sacrifice’. Seven rows on each side of the cross traverse a gentle slope on the high ground overlooking the surrounding countryside, where most of those resting here died. Watching over these graves is the tall stone tower of the memorial, which records on its walls the names of 10,982 Australians killed in France who have no known grave. Climb the tower and you can see much of the wide, lush, but featureless Somme battlefield. Here a million soldiers from the two contending sides endured unspeakable horrors as a constant flow of men were fed into the charnel house. Images from black-and-white photos and jerky films hint at the torment played out on this now silent countryside. It’s difficult to imagine a more powerful anti-war experience than spending some time reflecting on the hell on earth that visited here.
A little further ahead, on the road to the village of Corbie, with its expansive view of the Somme Valley, near where the Statue of Saint Colette stands, another notable event in the war occurred. In late April 1918, an Australian, Sergeant Cedric Popkin of the 24th
Machine-Gun Company of the 4th Division, is credited with firing the burst that brought down Baron Manfred von Richthofen, the famous German flying ace known as the ‘Red Baron’, who collected 80 Allied aircraft ‘kills’ during his amazing domination of the skies from 1914.
It was also in this area, as the Germans turned their attention to their offensive against the French Army to the south, that the Australian soldiers’ penchant for ingenuity re-emerged. The Diggers called their tactics ‘peaceful penetration’; Charles Bean called it a ‘private war’. It was a form of guerrilla fighting in which the Diggers attacked the Germans whenever they let down their guard. The Aussies would send small patrols into the German lines to sneak up on their exhausted opposition. In a perfect example, Lieutenant Irvine of the 18th Battalion realised that the Germans manning a post in front of him were asleep in broad daylight. He and his scouts sneaked across no-man’s land and captured the entire garrison of 21 soldiers without alerting the rest of the German line to their sortie.
The Australians brought great pressure to bear on the German lines, preventing them from getting desperately needed rest and fraying their nerves. Charles Bean quoted a German prisoner on the impact of the tactics:
The Spirit of the Digger Page 14
