Gallipolia to the Somme: Australia’s Search for Identity in World War I
“In the years before World War I few predicted the coming holocaust…A balance of power prevailed between the alliance of Great Britain, France, and Russia and the alliance of Germany and Austria. The ruling families…formed a common aristocracy. General war could mean the demise of this aristocracy, and those so privileged knew it. And yet they all marched to the trenches in 1914.” – Leslie Gelb[i]
“It is in disaster that human character is most clearly exhibited, and though she had known fire, drought, and flood, Australia had never seen the one great trial…the test of a great war.” – C.E.W. Bean[ii]
‘at every cost’, they said, ‘it must be done.’
They told us in the early afternoon.
We sit and wait the coming of the sun.
We sit in groups- grey groups that watch the moon. — Leon Gellert[iii]
In 1901 Australia gained its independence from Great Britain, yet its historical and cultural ties were still deeply entrenched. As Great Britain declared war on Germany in 1914, those same ties bound Australia to join the war effort. The Great War, as it would come to be known, was part obligation, part opportunity to many Australians. In defending the historical motherland, a new reality of a truly separate homeland was born. By war’s end, Australia’s new history melded myth and legend with blood and sacrifice. Through sacrifice on the battlefield, Australia gained a global identity- though that identity was confounded by Australia’s own colonial past, and a national self-identity- though that identity failed to embrace all Australians.
In earlier years, Australians “had cheered the small number of adventurers who had embarked to participate in England’s minor imperial wars.”[iv] Just fewer than 1500 men had volunteered during the Maori Wars in 1863, and following the siege at Khartoum in the mid-1880s further military support was offered. Australian’s had participated alongside the British in both the Boer War in South Africa and in China during the Boxer Rebellion.[v] Such willingness to rise to the defense of England made a “tremendous and deep impression” among the powers in Europe.[vi] As the 19th-century drew to a close “it was taken for granted that Britain’s far flung outposts should render military assistance to the mother country in time of conflict.”[vii]
Despite these previous endeavors, veteran soldiers were few and far between in 1914. In 1911, defense reforms and quieter times had left a series of militia units that formed the Australian Military Force (AMF). By 1914, the AMF consisted of roughly 45,000 men, conscripted for 7 years and created solely to defend the homeland. Training only 25 days a year, the AMF was “ill prepared” to form the kind of forced “pledged to support Britain.”[viii] Thus on 15 August the Australian Imperial Force (AIF) was created. It consisted of one infantry division and one light horse brigade and was promised for delivery by late August. While there was no shortage of volunteers, the officer corps sorely lacked qualified leadership. “Of the 1st Division’s original 631 officers, only 99 were serving or retired [officers]…and only 104 had previous experience” of any kind- and many of them were British military men called to aide the newly created AIF.[ix]
Its physical distance from Great Britain and cultural origins merged with a rush of patriotic fervor, as Australians were encouraged to look “overseas”, and admiration for British sacrifices stirred mass recruitment drives.[x] In August of 1914, Liberal Prime Minister Joseph Cook “urged voters to turn their eyes to Europe and give the kindest feelings toward the mother country.”[xi] The war had come at an inopportune moment for Australia’s political system. Cook’s Liberal government had failed to pass several bills through Parliament during the preceding summer, and elections had been called for September of that year. The domestic crisis of a dissolved government passed with little rancor, however, as both Cook and his rival, Andrew Fisher of the Labour Party, spoke with one voice on the issue of Australia’s war obligations. On 31 July, Cook addressed his countries position with calls to its Imperial ties. “Whatever happens, Australia is a part of the Empire and is in the Empire to the full”, he said. “When the Empire is at war Australia is at war.” For his part, Fisher promised Australian support “to the last man, to the last shilling.”[xii] The message clear- “imperial sentiment over party.”[xiii]
Many Australians took a romantic view of entry into the war. The decades before and after 1900 saw a widespread embrace of nationalism and in Australia the population was “eager to claim the mantle of nationhood for themselves” or as the newly independent country’s first prime minister, Edmund Barton called it “a continent for a nation and a nation for a continent.”[xiv] The conflict offered a first chance to fight “as Australians from an independent sovereign country, rather than as colonials.[xv] Clergymen spoke of the war “as Australia’s testing time” and prayed the nation would embrace the challenge as “a baptism of fire”.[xvi] According to the national historian of the day, C.E.W. Bean, the world would learn “the measure of [an] almost unknown democracy, or at least of a people reared in conditions closer to pure democracy that any nation”, and Australia would “furnish that measure to itself and to its own nation…[which before] did not know itself…for the opportunity for the Australians to know their own people had never arrived.”[xvii]
The physical isolation of Australia helped quell any potential anti-war sentiment. Australia was far removed from the European continent where anti-war lobbies existed in the various Parliaments of the great powers. By contrast, “the mood in Australia, when the people became aware of the threat of war, was one of jingoistic enthusiasm.”[xviii] Yet that same distance made the dichotomy of sovereign nation and dutiful dominion a strange dynamic. Could a young nation be truly independent yet still remain subject to its former colonial masters? It was, perhaps, easier to blur the paradoxical lines with independence such a recent event. But in much of the rhetoric it was hard to distinguish a real difference. As General Sir John Monash stated, “The nation that wishes to defend its land and its honour must spare no effort, refuse no sacrifice and make itself so formidable no enemy will dare assail it.”[xix] Prime Minister Cook promised in his August speech, that the war would create “unanimity of national pride and imperial purpose.”[xx] Thus while Australia was Australia, it was also Britain- their histories, honour, culture, and future, one in the same.
If Australia had to defend its honour on the battlefield it would have to wait awhile for a real test. After its initial launch, the AIF would ultimately find itself stationed in the Mena Camp near Cairo, Egypt. Rather than combat, the Australian forces were charged with keeping order and protecting the direct rule of the British in Egypt.[xxi] Mistrust of the Australians was entrenched in the minds of the British and simple tasks were all the Brits would allow the Australians to handle.[xxii] Back home the war “had not yet hit” and the Cairo assignment created a feeling that the Australians were on the sidelines.[xxiii] The months in Cairo would not soon change either assessment, nor would they augur the courage to come. From all accounts the Australians while in Egypt were wild and undisciplined soldiers. Fear spread among their British counterparts that “British virtues had been eroded by colonial experience.”[xxiv] Once more their history created a sense of “otherness” and isolation, and both the British and some Australian veterans had doubts if the AIF would ever stand up to a real test- but their “moment of truth” arrived Sunday 25 April 1915.[xxv]
With the Russian government fearing an assault by Turkish troops and thus straining their own troop combating the Germans, a request was made of the British to supply forces to distract the Turks. The AIF joined with New Zealand divisions to form what would be known as the ANZAC Corps and plans were made for an invasion of Gallipoli, the strip of land between the Aegean Sea and the Dardanelles on the Turkish peninsula.[xxvi] From the moment the invasion began the tragic consequences were clear. It was in hindsight as simple as “they had landed in the wrong place”- a narrow beach that abutted a hundred-meter cliff.[xxvii] “Australian soldiers were at last mingling their blood”[xxviii] in what was “some of the most bestial fighting in the whole history war” and the Australians took the brunt of the casualties as “men discarded the polite weapons of war and just got at one another’s throats.”[xxix] The men fell so swiftly burials took place under constant fire. In one barrage, of the 200 men who were charged with burial duty, 7 were killed and 31 wounded.[xxx] Such was the glory of war.
The “appalling casualties…affected the AIF, and Australia itself, deeply and drastically.”[xxxi] By 1915 enlistment began to decline and the ratio of available men in arms was staggeringly low compared to the British, as was the economic burden. The British had 1 in every 28 men in uniform and spent roughly 8 pounds per citizen on the war, while only 1 in every 116 Australian men were serving and the government spent only 2 pounds per citizen. The low enlistment figures led the War Office to issue a call for “every available man…to the front.”[xxxii] Cartoons appeared in newspapers deriding those who failed to serve. One such cartoon in the “Bulletin” by artist Norman Lindsay mocked the “slackers” who kept themselves fit by playing tennis, grew excited at a prize fight, debated the war at teas, wrote poems encouraging others to war, and cheered the wounded, but only saw “battle” in the “trenches at night” as he romanced a young woman on a park bench.[xxxiii] A heated debate in the Australian parliament in 1916 over initiating conscription led to the split of the Labour Party.”[xxxiv] After Gallipoli any unified political sentiment was lost and “the divisions over the conduct of the war”, abetted by economic strains and the conscription debates, became “yawning chasms.” Relationships soured between Australian troops and their British commanders, and between the British and Australian governments.[xxxv] In the field, Australian troops blamed the failures of Gallipoli on British incompetence and wondered aloud about the necessity of the campaign.[xxxvi] The transformation to a separate Australian identity was underway in full.
As the ANZAC force finally withdrew from Gallipoli, the way the soldiers viewed themselves, and were viewed by the British, changed in remarkable (and often contrasting) ways. For their part, Australians focused on the incredible bravery and heroism in the face of the Gallipoli devastation. Letters from chaplains serving with the AIF bragged of “heroism [that] beggars all description.”[xxxvii] Given their sacrifices they felt an intense superiority to the British troops and a special pride in their toughness and tenacity in battle.[xxxviii] Author John North relates a vivid description of the Australian soldier: “When it comes to a question of putting up a fight, the Australian soldier was as near an approach to an unleashed devil in human form as the annals of are ever likely to celebrate.”[xxxix] The “unleashed devils” had developed a sense, however, of the intricacies of policies that dominated their daily lives. As such, they were keen critics of strategy and the politics of war and the experience it yielded changed the way they viewed their British commanders.[xl]
The British had a far less savvy view of the Australian soldier, based in part on the outward appearance of the Australians. To the Brits they were either “Diggers”, a name derived from the fact that many of the soldiers had been miners, or they were the stereotypical Australian outback-cowboy.[xli] Their slouch hats became their symbol and their “loose-limbed, relaxed gait” a sign of their non-conformity.[xlii] One observer remarked that even the cooks were seemingly chosen less for their ability to make an edible meal than to weave a good story.[xliii] In the British view they remained “colonials” and their individualism clashed with British tradition. Respect for rank and customs was a hallmark of a civilized (British) soldier and the wild “larrikin” or joker (Australian) character had little place in such an ordered world- except it would seem as a body in uniform.[xliv]
In large part the Australians embraced this identity and in some ways celebrated it as a proud and uniquely Australian one. To them a “Digger” represented a truly democratic individual, an egalitarianism mixed with a duty to hard work and his fellow man. “The ‘Digger’ [was] inherently practical and [would] stick to the task in hand without wavering or ‘shirking’.”[xlv] Newspapers back home pictured the same ‘outback-cowboys’ as valiant soldiers on horseback, with guns and rifles raised- the image of a noble warrior.[xlvi] Whether a ‘colonial’ or a ‘noble warrior’, both identifications harkened back to the rugged pioneer history of Australians past. Gallipoli had shown that modern warfare demanded adaptation and flexibility and the Australians had risen to the challenge.[xlvii]
Toughened on the shores of Gallipoli, ANZAC became the driving force behind the battle of the Somme. At Ponzieres, the Australians found themselves thrust into deadliest of battles. The 2nd Division, which had taken lesser casualties at Gallipoli, was now vastly experienced with the rigors of combat. Yet the toll unleashed was still beyond imagination. Fear, fatigue, and “shell-shock” (a term as then unrecognized) were rampant in the ranks. One veteran of Gallipoli was found huddled in a corner of a trench weeping throughout the entire bombardment, while others “simply went mad and shot themselves.”[xlviii] In the midst of these overwhelming challenges, however, the Australians found their self-identity strengthened. “With wild yells of ‘Come on Australia’, with fierce oaths, and with the old bushman’s shout of ‘coo-ee’” the soldiers charged again and again.[xlix] The Somme became a “vast open-air slaughter house” where soldiers stumbled into a “flailing wind of steel.”[l] Yet men like G.D. Mitchell found solace in remembrances of their Australian homes. Mitchell received seven letters from home which he read during a German bombardment. In the smoke filled air, sitting on the snow covered terrain, Mitchell read of “Christmas down under, of warm seas and crowded beaches, of a summer camp high in the hills amid the yellow glory of wattle and the riot of singing birds”, all the while around him was fire “as close as trees in an orchard” where the trees were made of flame.[li] For Mitchell, as for many other Australians, the hell of battle was survived only through memories of the paradise that awaited their return.
With the war’s eventual end Australians faced a changed world, a changed Australia, and a changed identity. While they would still debate the nature of their ties to England, their independence was well and truly grounded in the sacrifices of Gallipoli, the Somme, and other battles. The soldiers that survived had gained a measure of respect from the British troops they served alongside, and a new self-respect for their ability to transcend their colonial roots. In the war years they had written a new history for themselves as warriors or statesmen- a fully Australian one. As John Masefield wrote:
“During the war the English suddenly became aware of a new kind of man…these strangers were not European; they were not Americans. They seemed not to be of one race, for all they had something of the same bearing, and something of the same look of humorous, swift decision. On the whole they were…better looking, and more graceful in their movements than other races.”[lii]
They were ushered into the League of Nations and given a mandate over the German occupied New Guinea and the island of Nauru. The once colonial possession now possessed its own colony of sorts. Australia’s battlefield contingent was an entirely volunteer force of over 300,000 and suffered nearly 60,000 deaths, a staggering ration of 1 in 5. With another roughly166,000 wounded, over 68% of their force under arms suffered casualties. In a letter to his mother, Patrick Glynn, the High Commissioner for Australia, wrote about his visit to Australian troops recovering in hospital following a battle near Amentieres:
“The Australians had a fearful “I saw several of the boys coming in wounded after their great push. I know …that in many cases only a few out of hundreds are left. One Battalion, in which was one of my clerks…seems to be completely wiped out, but the spirit of the boys is unbroken.”[liii]
Australia had paid a heavy price indeed. Yet a spirit was born that reached beyond their past to a new beginning. Though the story was incomplete- what it meant to be Australian had yet to include the aboriginal populations and they still wrestled with how much loyalty was owed the British- they had earned their new self-identity. They had written a new history and created a new future.
Endnotes
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[i] Leslie Gelb. “Walking the Tightrope in East Asia & the Pacific”, Foreign Policy for Australia, ed. Gordon McCarthy (Sydney: Angus and Robertson Publishers, 1973). 14.
[ii] C.E.W. Bean. Fighting Words: Australian War Writing, selected and introduced by Carl Harrison-Ford (Melbourne: Lothian Publishing Company, 1986). 141.
[iii] Leon Gellert. Fighting Words: Australian War Writing, 59.
[iv] Michael McKernan. Australian Churches at War. (Marrickville, NSW: Southwood Press Pty Limited, 1980). 24.
[v] Peter Firkins. The Australians in Nine Wars. (London: Robert Hale & Co., 1972). 6-7.
[vi] Ibid, 2-5.
[vii] Ibid, 6.
[viii] Peter S. Sadler. The Paladin: A life of Major-General Sir John Gellibrand, (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000). 56.
[ix] Ibid.
[x] McKernan, 3.
[xi] Peter Charlton. Ponziere 1916: Australians on the Somme, (London: Leo Cooper in association with Secker & Warburg Ltd., 1986). 269.
[xii] Ernest Scott. A Short History of Australia, (Melbourne: Oxford University Press, 1947). 354-355.
[xiii] Charlton, 269.
[xiv] Russell McGregor. “The necessity of Britishness: ethno-cultural roots of Australian nationalism”. Nations and Nationalism 12 (3).(2006). 494.
[xv] Paul Rainbird. “The Social Commemoration of Warfare”. World Archaeology Vol 35 (1). (2003). 23.
[xvi] McKernan, 1.
[xvii] C.E.W. Bean, 140.
[xviii] McKernan, 25.
[xix] Firkins, 2.
[xx] Charlton, 269.
[xxi] Sadler, 60.
[xxii] Charlton, 118.
[xxiii] McKernan, 70.
[xxiv] Ibid, 71.
[xxv] Sadler, 65.
[xxvi] Ibid, 62-64.
[xxvii] Ibid, 66-68.
[xxviii] McKernan, 70-71.
[xxix] John North. Gallipoli. (London: Faber and Faber Limited, 1967). 33.
[xxx] Sadler, 69; 72-73.
[xxxi] Quote from John Terraine’s foreward in Charlton, ix.
[xxxii] McKernan, 68-69; 77.
[xxxiii] Image in McKernan, 80.
[xxxiv] Tremain in Charlton, ix.
[xxxv] Charlton, 270.
[xxxvi] Sadler, 71;76.
[xxxvii] McKernan, 62.
[xxxviii] Charlton, 128.
[xxxix] North, 189.
[xl] Tremaine in Charlton, ix-x.
[xli] Rainbird, 23-24.
[xlii] Charlton, 128-129.
[xliii] Quote in Harrison-Ford, 87.
[xliv] Firkin, 160; Rainbird, 24.
[xlv] Rainbird, 24.
[xlvi] Image in Firkin, 13.
[xlvii] Firkin, 61.
[xlviii] Charlton, 164-165; 168; 210.
[xlix] Ibid, 154.
[l] Joe Maxwell in Harrison-Ford, 60.
[li] G.D. Mitchell in Harrison-Ford, 79.
[lii] John Masefield in Harrison-Ford, 22.
[liii] Patrick McMahon Glynn Letters to his Family, (Melbourne: The Polding Press, 1974). 187-188.
Bibliography
Books
Bean, C.E.W., John Masefield, Leon Gellert, Joe Maxwell, G.D. Mitchell, selected and introduced by Carl Harrison-Ford. Fighting Words: Australian War Writing, (Melbourne: Lothian Publishing Company, 1986).
Charlton, Peter., with a foreward by John Tremaine. Ponziere 1916: Australians on the Somme, (London: Leo Cooper in association with Secker & Warburg Ltd., 1986).
Firkins, Peter. The Australians in Nine Wars. (London: Robert Hale & Co., 1972).
Gelb, Leslie. “Walking the Tightrope in East Asia & the Pacific”, Foreign Policy for Australia, ed. Gordon McCarthy (Sydney: Angus and Robertson Publishers, 1973).
Glynn, Patrick McMahon Letters to his Family, (Melbourne: The Polding Press, 1974).
McKernan, Michael. Australian Churches at War. (Marrickville, NSW: Southwood Press Pty Limited, 1980).
North, John. Gallipoli. (London: Faber and Faber Limited, 1967).
Sadler, Peter S. The Paladin: A life of Major-General Sir John Gellibrand, (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000).
Scott, Ernest. A Short History of Australia, (Melbourne: Oxford University Press, 1947).
Journals
McGregor, Russell. “The necessity of Britishness: ethno-cultural roots of Australian nationalism”. Nations and Nationalism 12 (3). 2006: pp 493-511.
Rainbird, Paul. “The Social Commemoration of Warfare”. World Archaeology Vol 35 (1), 2003: pp 22-34.
