Chapter 6 Army in "Roaring Days"; Regimental Roll; Kure was thrashed; .........

THE ARMY IN AUSTRALIA IN "THE ROARIN' DAYS"

WITH all its harshness the second phase of the politico-military history of Australia between the years 1821-1870 marked a transition to better things.

It the period of expansion in which the veneer of law and discipline at the onset was thin when the authority derived from England by the Governor and Commander-in-Chief in New South Wales was remote and attenuated.

In this part-civil part-military form of government the early Governors inclined more and more to attitudes of consideration for the civilian population.

Officers of a succession of Imperial regiments were disposed to be overbearing, and were in a condition of continuous thinly-disguised insubordination to the Governor.

Macquarie was socially ostracized by his military subordinates because he chose on occasions to invite free settlers and emancipists to dinners at Government House.
With the advent of progressively stronger trends toward self government in the colonies the office of Commander-in-Chief was eventually separated from that of Governor; an Australian military command was created, the Imperial regiments were withdrawn and the foundations of colonial defence forces were laid, based on a small permanent administrative staff and a citizen army. Self-government in Australia, with a substantial measure of self-reliance on local defences, was initiated.

During this period of fifty years, twenty five Imperial regiments, whether as whole regiments or battalions thereof, were assigned one after another to garrison the penal colonies which, as Sydney and Hobart were transit ports for regiments going out to India from home service in England or from other parts of the Empire, were regarded as ideal toughening-up ground for the sterner work ahead. However, their role here of provosts and convict guards was not an inspiring one, and they relieved the boredom with more attention to rum and the women of the town than to their military duties, so that, with few exceptions, notable amongst them being the 40th Regiment, things did not work out as planned.

An indication of the state of affairs is afforded by the case of Privates Sudds and Thompson, two soldiers of the 57th Regiment, who, with the intention of escaping military service, stole a length of cloth from a shop in George Street in 1826. They were sentenced by the civil magistrates to seven years' penal servitude in Moreton Bay, but Governor Darling determined to punish them by military law. The sentence was changed to seven years' hard labour in irons on the roads, the prisoners to be returned to their regiments on the expiry of their sentences.

Sudds, an educated man, subsequently died, and after a fatuous attempt to prove that his death was caused by dropsy, Attorney Wentworth drew up a formal impeachment of the Governor. Repeated attempts were made to bring the matter before the notice of the House of Commons, and in 1836 a committee of inquiry was convened but failed for lack of evidence.

Darling was motivated only by the desire to close a loophole of escape to other malcontents, but it speaks volumes against conditions in the Army that men should sacrifice their freedom to escape from it.

Even the occasional use of detachments to hunt down bushrangers and as punitive forces against the aborigines did nothing but earn the soldiers the contempt of outlaws and free settlers alike, for their training and equipment were not designed to compete with the bushrangers who were usually well mounted and had the advantage of the "bush telegraph" and supplies and information from the more or less sympathetic settlers.

The aborigines, in the beginning a friendly people, were completely alienated by the policy of the Home Government whose ideas of colonial administration took little account of the pacification or welfare of the natives. Atrocity was followed by counter-atrocity - shameful episodes that will forever remain a blot on the pages of early Australian history. However, abortive as it was, the sporadic activity against the aborigines and the bushrangers influenced the early trend of military history in Australia.

Macquarie had been impressed by the stamina and aptitude of the young men born in the colony. In a despatch to Earl Bathurst, Secretary of State, he set out proposals to form a militia force, declaring, "I have no doubt that a certain force of this description might be raised amongst the inhabitants free of arrival by servitude, and that such a militia might serve a valuable purpose, although necessarily far inferior to what is desirable from soldiers of the line."

After some delay his recommendation was approved in substance. Four troops of cavalry were to be raised, each troop to consist of 1 captain, 1 lieutenant, 1 comet, 3 sergeants, 3 corporals, 1 trumpeter, 1 Farrier and 30 troopers, each troop to total 41 officers and men. The infantry were to number eight companies, each to consist of 1 captain, 1 lieutenant, 1 ensign, sergeants, 3 corporals, 2 drummers and 42 privates.

The total strength of each company was to be 53 officers and men, with a battalion headquarters of 1 colonel, 1 lieutenant-colonel, 1 major. 1 paymaster, 1 surgeon, 1 assistant-surgeon, 1 sergeant-major, 1 quartermaster-sergeant, and 3 drill instructors, making the establishment of the battalion 435 officers and men. With the four troops of cavalry, the militia force amounted to 599 officers and men, any of whom would be permitted to enlist voluntarily for fulltime duty.

The proposed uniforms were to be plain and simple: cavalry: blue jackets with yellow capes and cuffs, blue pantaloons, half-boots and plain helmets; infantry: red jackets with yellow facings, blue pantaloons and plain caps. The force was to be armed similarly to the yeomen and infantry of the British Army, and governed by the same laws and regulations regarding pay, clothing, arms and accoutrements, and the number of days for drill and exercise.

Arms and equipment (including saddles) arrived from England, and Judge-Advocate Wylde was made commanding officer of the militia forces, which were stationed at Sydney, Parramatta, Windsor, and Liverpool. The depredations of the aborigines continued and on 18 June 1824 Governor Brisbane, who had succeeded Governor Macquarie in 1821, proposed to Earl Bathurst the raising of a troop of colonial cavalry comprising 2 officers, 5 N.C.O.s and 25 privates, "not only with a view to keeping the aborigines in check, against whom the infantry have no success, but also for the general policing of the country, which I consider will derive most beneficial results from it".

Six months later, which was almost an immediate response in those days, Brisbane received a reply requesting more information. Subsequent records relate to the operations of both cavalry and mounted police against bushrangers, although little or no credit was given at the time to the importance of aboriginal trackers in hunting down outlaws.

The military forces in Tasmania subsequently proved unable to restrain either the aborigines or the bushrangers, and on 14 April 183o Governor Darling asked London for an additional regiment to augment the forces in that colony. Emergency police were enrolled from amongst the convicts and, in bands of five, were sent inland to help protect the settlers from the blacks.

There were numerous convict mutinies and escapes, and the unpractical mixture of military, convicts and settlers rendered precarious the situation in Tasmania, where the 63rd Regiment was stationed at the time. Darling, with commitments; at Norfolk Island, Moreton Bay, King George's Sound and the Swan River settlements in Western Australia, was unable to accede to the daily request by magistrates for increased military aid.

In 1838 Governor Gipps applied for Royal Engineers, two companies of the line, to cope with the road and bridge work necessary, but his application was not granted. Instead, objection was made to the use of soldiers as mounted police.

Colonel Breton, who had been previously in New South Wales, stated before a Royal Commission in England: "The best men are selected for this service and continue to be so employed until their regiments leave for India. By that time the soldier has become demoralized, and in consequence of his having been for long his own master, his duty, when he rejoins his regiment, becomes irksome to him and he is no longer amenable to discipline but is found to have become careless, slovenly and insubordinate."

However, as a result of Gipps's firm demand for military police, it was arranged that instead of these men rejoining their regiments on their departure for India in the service of the East India Company, they should be retained as supernumeraries of incoming regiments and continue to be employed as mounted police. The record of the military police in the early history of the colonies was. on the whole, most creditable.

Another force on the military establishment in the early years was the Veteran Companies, composed of soldiers who by reason of their age were unfit for further service in their regiments, but who were retained on the pay-sheet for light duties. In Macquarie's time, the Veterans, with their families, all of whom were victualled by the Government at the rate of seven pounds of meat and seven pounds of flour per man, per week, numbered as much as a whole regiment of the line, and the Governor asked the then Secretary of State, Earl Liverpool, for authority to discharge the Veterans on pension, giving them the option of remaining as settlers with a grant of land and sustenance for a period.

The same recommendation, when made later by Governor Brisbane, was approved, and all but four of the old soldiers elected to remain in the colony. The companies were disbanded. However, another, called the Royal Veteran Company, was formed in England in 1824 comprised of pensioners of the Royal Chelsea Hospital and the Kilmainham Hospital, Dublin, and was sent to New South Wales for light duties.

Amongst these old soldiers were many with previous convictions for drunkenness, mutiny, theft and indolence, and their misconduct began as soon as their ships were on the high seas.

A few years later Governor Darling, asserting that they included not half a dozen men worth their rations, requested that their strength be augmented from England.

"Not-withstanding the liberal provision made for both officers and men," he reported "everyone seemed to consider his pay in the light of a retaining fee, and that he was sent out to be provided for, to be immediately placed in some situation of emolument."

The Veterans were finally disbanded between 1829and 1833.

Any tradesmen who were fit for work were allocated to country towns and the remainder received grants of land from 40 to 100 acres, a log hut and a cow. About this time Brisbane recommended the formation of a Royal Staff Company, and one such, to be employed in administrative duties and the supervision of chain gangs, was sent out in Governor Darling's term.

In 1833 the appointment was approved of a Commandant at Port Phillip, including military posts at the fords where the roads crossed the rivers Murray, Ovens, and Goulburn, and Violet Creek. In the following year the 4th Regiment was stationed at Melbourne and Geelong, and five years later a detachment of the 80th Regiment set up a military post at Portland.

Sir Charles FitzRoy took over from Gipps in 1846, and his term, lasting until 1855, saw the beginnings of the gold rushes and all the problems they entailed, including the Ballarat riots and the Eureka Stockade. Most of the romanticized accounts of that episode give the version of the diggers, so it seems relevant to recall here the military version, condensed from official records.

A party of the 40th Regiment was assaulted by armed gold-diggers on the Geelong-Ballarat road on 29 November 1854. The soldiers charged, got the worst of the encounter and took shelter. On the same day at Ballarat another detachment of the 40th was attacked and several soldiers were wounded. At a great meeting next day at Ballarat, crowds of armed diggers passed resolutions denouncing the gold-digging licence fee, adding that all miners would henceforth bum their licences and adjust their claims by arbitrators to be chosen mutually.

Protests were made about bodies of soldiers marching around the diggings and firing upon people without first having read the Riot Act, and it was further declared that, if such unconstitutional practices continued, the league formed at the meeting would not be responsible for the consequences. There were detachments marching around the fields at the time and several skirmishes occurred. The Government began to concentrate on Ballarat all the military strength at its disposal.

General measures were taken to strengthen the position of the Government forces. The military camp was guarded and barricaded by a breastwork of sandbags, the military forces and police were kept under arms, and parties were sent out to cover the roads into Ballarat and prevent the arrival of men from other diggings. On 4 December Ballarat and its environs were placed under martial law.

On several subsequent nights observers saw lights in the tents of the diggers and signals being exchanged. Sentries were fired upon and forced to retire into the camp. Large numbers of diggers were organizing, drilling and equipping themselves with arms, and their leaders, telling them off into companies, advised those without firearms to place an iron spike on a pole and use it as a bayonet.

Military orders forbade the use of lights after 8 o'clock and no discharge of firearms was allowed, under pain of being fired upon. The diggers, who did not expect any aggressive measures on the part of the authorities until the main body of troops and the commanding officer arrived, occupied a stockade of considerable strength on a gentle eminence at Eureka, with the avowed intention of intercepting reinforcements that were known to be coming from Melbourne.

It was much too large, and was not protected by proper bastions or butments to turn a general assault, but even so the diggers would have repulsed the military forces had the attack not been made when it was totally unexpected and when the general body of the defenders was absent.

The authorities determined on a night surprise, the officer upon whom the enterprise rested being Captain Thomas of the 4oth Regiment, aided in the engineering aspect by Captain Pasley, R.E., and guided by Commissioner Amos, a goldfields official. The attack took place at daybreak on 4 December, the attacking force consisting of 30 mounted infantry under Lieutenants Hall and Gardyne, 70 mounted police, 20 foot police under Sub-Inspectors Fumell, Langley and Chomley and Lieutenant Cossack, 65 men of the 12th Regiment under Captain Quendo and Lieutenant Paul, and 87 men of the 40th Regiment under Captain Wise with Lieutenants Bowder and Richards-in all 100 mounted and 172 un-mounted men. The number of men in the stockade is not known, but is believed not to have exceeded 200, many of whom were but half-armed. The infantry advanced to a frontal attack as the mounted men threatened the rear and flanks.

As the alarm was given, the insurgents, led by Peter Lalor and a Hanoverian named Frederick Vern rushed to their posts, firing a heavy volley at the attackers, several of whom fell. f4o,,vever, the discipline of the attackers soon prevailed. Soldiers climbed over the stockade and after twenty minutes of hand fighting it was over. The attacking force lost Captain Wise (died of wounds), Lieutenant Paul (severely wounded), six men killed and about twelve wounded, while sixteen of the insurgents were killed and at least eight others died of their wounds, probably some dying in hiding. Peter Lalor lost his left arm. In all, 114 prisoners were taken. Only thirteen of these, on being brought before the civil authorities, were committed for trial. The arrival next day from Melbourne of reinforcements to the 12th, 40th and 99th Regiments removed the danger of further hostilities. The tax to which the diggers primarily objected was abolished.

Viewed in objective retrospect, the strictly military part of the affair reflects credit upon both soldiers and police, for the surprise nature of the attack, its swiftness and discipline, probably prevented much greater bloodshed.

At one stage detachments, each a company, of the 40th Regiment were stationed on the goldfields at Ballarat, Mount Alexander (now Castlemaine), Sandhurst (now Bendigo) and Geelong, to help deal with the robbery, violence and general disorder inseparable from the gold rushes. They were later withdrawn and the whole regiment, with the exception of one company diverted to Adelaide, was concentrated at Melbourne.

One company, equipped with a field gun, was mounted for employment against bushrangers and to escort the coaches bringing gold from the fields to the Treasury in Melbourne. During the three years and eight months in which this company performed-escort duty it brought to the city six million ounces; of gold, valued at £24,000,000 sterling, and conveyed to and from the interior £17,500,000 in cash. One sergeant and 50 other ranks formed the escort. A special vice-regal order was issued commending the regiment for the work which it continued until the mounted police could be raised to take over the assignment. The soldiers then returned to their regiment.

As the headquarters of the military forces were in Melbourne, most of the executive duties and responsibilities fell on the newly chartered Government of Victoria. Upon the death in 1855 of Sir Robert Nickle, the commander of the forces, the command devolved temporarily upon Colonel Edward Macarthur, then Deputy Adjutant-General. In the following January, upon the death of Sir Charles Hotham, the further duties of temporary administrator of the colony devolved upon Macarthur for about a year until the arrival of Sir Henry Barkly. Thus, by a whimsical turn of events, the son of Captain John Macarthur who had fought, defied and thwarted one Governor after another, became an acting Governor, for which service he was promoted major-general.

For some years correspondence passed between the Colonial and the Imperial Governments on the necessity of providing batteries of Royal Artillery in addition to infantry. This raised the larger question whether the Imperial Government were responsible for providing defence for colonies which had been granted responsible government. Until 1855 the whole expense of maintaining Imperial troops in the colonies had been borne by the taxpayers of the United Kingdom, but now the view was generally held that the colonies should either provide for their own defence or contribute from their revenues to the cost of British troops. The compromise reached was set out in a circular despatch dated26 June 186 3, from the Secretary of State for the Colonies to the respective Governments of the Australian colonies, except Western Australia. This provided that, on the payment of a subsidy, the Imperial Government would continue to be responsible for the defence of Tasmania, where

there was still a carry-over of the effects of the old system of transportation, but that the Governments of New South Wales, Victoria, South Australia, and Queensland should take over responsibility for their own land defence, while the Imperial Government retained the responsibility for naval defence and keeping the sea-lanes open. While the colonial defences were being built up the Imperial Government undertook to provide a nucleus of fifteen regular companies, conditional upon the colonies making a contribution of £40 a year for each officer and man. Five companies were allotted to Victoria, four to New South Wales, three to Tasmania, two to South Australia and one to Queensland, the annual cost of the allocations being respectively £17,800, £14,360, £10,400, £6,880, and £3,640, the total being £53,080.

Seven years later the then Secretary of State, Lord Granville, intimated that as the Governments of Victoria and Queensland had declined British troops, Tasmania had not accepted them, and South Australia and New South Wales had requisitioned only one and four companies respectively, it had been decided to withdraw all Imperial troops.

That marked the end of an era.

CRAYTON BURNS, First A.I.F.

REGIMENTAL ROLL

Between the years 1809 and 1870 the following British regiments were garrisoned in the various Australian colonies for the periods designated:

73rd Highlanders (1810-1814).
- Macquarie's own regiment which arrived with him from Madras to put down the Rum Rebellion. Served in New South Wales and Van Diemen's Land.
46th Regiment (South Devon) (1814-1818).
- The second battalion of the regiment engaged in expeditions against bushrangers and blacks in New South Wales and Tasmania.
48th Regiment (Northamptonshire) (1817-1824).
- Furnished guards over convicts. 3rd Regiment (Buffs) (1823-1827). Garrison duty.
40th Regiment (2nd Somersetshire) (1824-1829).
- First period. A single battalion for guard duties. Returned later.
57th Regiment (West Middlesex) (1825-1832).
- The first battalion arrived as convict guards, remained for six years before going to India. Returned in 1857 as complete regiment before going to India to suppress Mutiny in closing stages.
39th Regiment (Dorsetshire) (1827-1832).
- Detachments of this regiment were stationed at the new settlement on the Swan River and other distant parts on the north-west coast of Australia. One of its officers, at one stage Military Secretary to Governor Darling, is better known as the intrepid explorer, Captain Sturt.
63rd Regiment (West Suffolk) (1829-1833).
- Did general duty in Tasmania and New South Wales.
17th Regiment (Leicestershire) (1830-1836).
- Served in New South Wales.
4th Regiment (The King's Own) (1832-1837).
- The first battalion only served in New South Wales between tours of duty in Portugal.
21st Regiment (Royal North British Fusiliers) (1833-1839).
- Arrived by detachments in charge of convict transports; was stationed at Swan River and in Tasmania.
50th Regiment (West Kent) (1833-1841).
- Arrived with convict ships and did guard duty.
28th Regiment (North Gloucestershire) (1835-1842).
- Did guard duty in various settlements of colonies. Sent to India following Khyber Pass disaster.
80th Regiment (Staffordshire Volunteers) (1837-1844).
- Did duty by detachments in New South Wales, Tasmania, Norfolk Island, and New Zealand.
51st Regiment (2nd Yorkshire West Riding Light Infantry) (1838-1846).
- Guard duty.
96th Regiment (2nd Manchester) (1841-1848).
- Formerly second battalion of 63rd Regiment which had been in Australia previously. Part of this regiment formed first British garrison in New Zealand and took prominent part in First Maori War.
99th Regiment (Lanarkshire) (1842-1856).
- Took prominent part in First Maori War while based on Sydney.
58th Regiment (Rutlandshire) (1844-1847).
- Arrived in New South Wales with convict transports; on being assembled, took part in First Maori War.
11th Regiment (North Devonshire) (1845-1857).
- General duties New South Wales, Norfolk Island, and Tasmania.
65th Regiment (2nd Yorkshire North Riding) (1846-1849).
- General duties in New South Wales, took part in First Maori War.
40th Regiment (2nd Somersetshire) (1852-1860).
- Second term of Australian service. The most popular regiment to serve in Australia. Its Australian duties recounted more fully in story above. Took part in Second Maori War.
12th Regiment (East Suffolk) (1854-1861).
- Arrived in Australia at height of gold fever. One detachment took part in Eureka Stockade. Regiment participated in Second Maori War.
77th Regiment (East Middlesex) (1857-1858).
- Served only one year. Term cut short to be sent to India to suppress Mutiny.
50th Regiment (West Kent) (1866-1869).
- Guard duty in Australia, then to India.
14th Regiment (Buckinghamshire) (1867-1870).
- Tour of duty in Australia after participating in Second Maori War.
18th Regiment (Royal Irish) (1870).
- Called in at Australia returning from Second Maori War, formally marched out in ceremonial termination of the symbol of British authority.

Acknowledgment is freely and gratefully made for the use in the foregoing article of notes gathered together by the late Mr. R. K. Peacock, for many years Defence Librarian. He put the result of years of research into some notes entitled The Imperial Troops from 1783 to 1870, now preserved in the Australian War Memorial at Canberra.

WHEN JACKO LAUGHED

EARLY in September (1916) it was decided to make an attempt against the Turkish garrison at Mazar, som e forty- four miles east of Romani on the main northern track towards El Arish. The Turkish force was believed to be 22,000 strong made up of remnants of the troops which had fought at Romani and supported by four mountain guns, a few anti-aircraft guns and ten machine guns. As there was no water supply for the horses east of Salmana, 700 camels were organized to carry about twenty gallons each to a point ten miles east of Salmana to meet Chauvel's troops as they returned and provide a drink for the animals of the two brigades."

So run the words of the official historian. Not so formal, not so concise and doubtless not so precise are my notes of the same show written not long after it happened when the sights, sounds and smells were still with me. They turned up in my hand quite by chance a few months ago. Here they are.

Moving out from Fatir sometime after midnight, we're now cooling off beneath the palm-trees at Gelia. From what we think we know, the Turks are well burrowed-in at Mazar. Chauvel's idea is apparently to root them out, scurry them back across the desert to their base at El Arish, and then. no doubt, we will occupy and consolidate Mazar and thus have our outpost line well advanced towards El Arish. It sounds quite O.K. on paper. Orders are that the whole division will keep carefully screened from the view of any inquisitive enemy planes; the success at Mazar depends on surprise. We have seen our planes the masters of the air for once. A Taube that had been hovering high above, its occupants evidently scouting around for sight of any troops, was soon put to flight as four of our
machines raced at it. Surely a fresh consignment of planes has arrived! I didn't think we had so many. Before the Taube disappeared, however, it did a bit of damage; its machine-gun burst killed and wounded several men and horses of the 3rd Brigade.

Darkness glooms the desert. From a moonless sky the stars look down on a mounted division on the move. We, of the screen, ride silently on; the regiment is supplying the advance-guard tonight for brigade. The purple roof above is just one mass of flickering in-points, but the twinkling stars shed little light. Horses flounder knee-deep in the flour-like drifts. So fine and deep is the sand that the old Walers grunt in their exertions to lift feet that must feel as though shod with heavy leaden weights. The going reminds one of dry quicksands. Like spectral shadows pairs of riders on either side can be just faintly detected. The heavy breathing of the plugging and panting Walers acts as a better connecting link than that of sight.

Behind us is heard the dull thud, thud of hundreds of hooves. The impenetrable darkness blots the column behind from view. Connecting files, between the regiment and the screen, keep the squadrons behind us in touch. Our course lies almost due cast. Instructions are to mop up any Turkish outposts as quietly as possible. To arrive unobserved within striking distance of Mazar means everything.

Greyness shows ever so faintly in the blurred horizon just ahead. As we ride warily on movement is seen. Turks on camels! An outpost, perhaps; maybe an early morning patrol. We halt! We fall back a little ... four troops dismount; horses are handed over and, on foot, flannel-shirted men creep for-ward in the heavy sand, now showing dull-brown in the first streaks of the dawn. But Jacko has heard! The enemy has not been caught asleep. Even as the outflanking troops draw within striking distance on the right, a chorus of startled yells breaks the stillness of the quiet morning air. Just too late! From a ridge, we see camel-mounted Turks careering madly for home. A thunder of galloping hoofs, the rat-tat-tat of a machine-gun burst on our right, and, in the full dawn, we see a dismounted enemy outpost cut off and taken prisoner. First blood to the "Mad Bushmen". However, the element of surprise for which we hoped has vanished. Mazar has awakened.

The regiment advances, but the Turks are strangely quiet as a thin line of mounted men rides across the sand dunes. As the sun draws clear above the ridges we see its rays shining brightly on the trenches of Mazar. Away to the right, yet seemingly far out, a mass of slow-moving mounted men tells where the 3rd Brigade under Royston is. Royston's mob is to make a flanking movement. We halt, dismount and sit about awaiting orders. Jacko shows how he resents our presence. Bullets hiss and whistle all round.

A plane, one of ours, flies overhead, and soon comes the boom, boom, boom of exploding bombs. The Turkish anti-aircraft guns reply, but the puffs of white smoke from the bursting shells are far away from our highflying plane.

"Get mounted, C troop!" Hullo, we must be going to make a frontal charge. Orders are not long in coming. A strong enemy outpost on our left flank is holding up the advance.

It has to be wiped out! We canter along, ready to dismount for instant action and, as we make headway, we see unoccupied sandbagged entrenchments. Soon we reach our objective, but it is unoccupied. Jacko had seen us coming and had fallen back on Mazar.

From a ridge just ahead we see Mazar, and, as we move back off the skyline, bullets clip the sand around. Amidst a hail of whining lead we dismount and line the crests of the ridges further back. The whole environment now becomes one continuous rattle of musketry. The Turks try an innovation. Their anti-aircraft guns are converted and soon weird-sounding shells come hurtling through the air, but they do little damage. The gunners' elevation is putrid. Back again we ride and rejoin the regiment.

It's early yet, but hell, the sun is hot. Water bottles are beginning to feel the strain; many of us are without any water at all. Stretching in one great arc are groups of dismounted men, with their led horses sheltering, behind the cover of the little sandy ridges. We await with tense feelings the next move.

Chauvel and the brigadier come riding up. A short palaver is held with our colonel. We wonder if a frontal onslaught is to be attempted; it seems as if the right flank is being held up.... Chauvel and the old "Bull" ride away.

We learn that the Turkish position is too strong for us. Apparently the Camel Corps has failed to get into the position intended for it. Royston had intimated that he would gallop his brigade right into Mazar but that, by so doing, heavy losses of "his boys" would occur. Old "Galloping Jack" did not believe in sacrificing lives unnecessarily. A successful general is he who judges victory by the minimum of losses incurred.

Chauvel does not intend to have men murdered; we're not strong enough. The whole division will retire, and water's thirty miles away back across the hellish desert. And it's as hot as blazes. Why don't we camp here and carry on tomorrow? The answer is obvious. There aren't any Amazon Rivers in this country; a frilled lizard would perish in this desert and he only acquires a thirst each Christmas.

We're all so very thirsty now, and so are our poor old horses. The column begins the homeward trek. First out, last home! Hell, we are unlucky; the 5th are to form the rearguard and act as escort for the battery. And the guns move so very slowly across the heavy sand. The capture of Mazar has now become a shattered illusion.

Our casualties fortunately have been few. One man killed and half a dozen wounded. Other regiments fared much worse than we did, but the fact of the enemy having so few field pieces had made the danger less. As we sit our horses and wait for the slow-moving artillery to come abreast, the wounded convoy presents a pathetic sight. Beneath a red-hot sun, without the slightest protection from the hellish heat, what a torrid time is ahead for these unfortunate flesh-torn and bleeding wounded! Thirty miles across the desert sands! Some lie in camel-hung cacolets; others are strapped to horses or mule-drawn sleigh like affairs. Moans are heard as the sorry looking little convoy passes slowly by.

And now we ride on. Heavy-headed from lack of sleep, with mouths and throats bone dry, with tongues parched and swollen, we silently curse the slow-moving battery. Away ahead a great unending serpent moves in a haze of dust. Regiment after regiment, Yeomanry, Enzeds and Australians ride along, all with one thought in view, water ! The very mirage seems to mock and tantalize. The morning snack of salty bully beef had only ten&d to aggravate the thirsts of sun-sapped bodies, But hope arises! Word is passed along that a camel convoy will be waiting, midway along the route.

Some of us smoke now; we even pretend to one another we are not thirsty. Liars, of course! Still, expressions have changed. Sour and savage looking men of a few minutes before now allow a smile of anticipation to cross their sand smudged faces.

Just ahead! Hosts of men and horses and camels! All seem so horribly congested. It is the precious water! Even the old Walers seem to know; they have smelt the water and, in their eagerness to sate their burning thirsts, they quicken their paces.

"Keep back, C troop!" We can't keep back. Thirst-maddened horses will not be checked. AN is confusion. Dismounted men are being dragged along the sand by their eager and stamping horses; the Walers are almost uncontrollable. The pounding of the horses' hooves, the curses from scores of men and the swirling clouds of sand only add to the torment of the thirsty. Alas, water is not for us. The supply has not been nearly enough. The regiments on ahead, lucky dogs, had swamped up the lot. Odd ones in the 5th managed to get a sup, but not many.

We curse loudly, and. if our blasphemy does give us some little degree of relief, it does not curb the anxiety of the Walers. The poor old fellows cannot understand why they are being denied the water they so much need. They are so impatient to reach their heads towards the water that is not there. Where the sand shows moist from water that has been spilled, a Waler paws away. The old fellow must have thought of days gone by, when, somewhere out in western Queensland, he had to scoop away with hooves the sand covering of some creek-bed soak. But not here, old man. All the pawing in the world will not find sufficient moisture to provide a galah with a drink.

Forcibly, but gently, his rider pulls away the suffering horse. Two great brown eyes look longingly at the spot where his hooves had pawed. It's not so bad for us, we understand, but those gallant Walers are suffering; they know not why. Horses sob as we force them back. Blast the Heads, cooling off in Cairo! Blast the Turks and the whole war too! No sight could be more pathetic than to see those game old horses, pleading with their big eyes for water. Some of us have to be cruel to be kind. Horses are punched on the noses and kicked in the bellies to force them away from a spot they are reluctant to leave. Some of the horses' mouths are full of sand; they have licked it up where it showed dampness.

Men's feelings are strained almost to bursting point as we ride on again. Never had water been needed more; never had disappointment been so acute for both men and horses. Like thirsty cattle wending their way along dusty pads the horses flounder on.

With the lengthening of the shadows from the bodies of men and horses, the afternoon draws on. The sun goes down, a blood-red ball, but no coolness is yet apparent. The palm-trees of Salmana appear as an earthly paradise in the twilight. Lights twinkle from hundreds of camp fires.

The Walers smell the water and we let them have their heads. Almost at a jog-trot we move in towards the water troughs.

"Hold back there, C troop"' To hell with holding back! Even before we can get bits from their mouths the thirst-maddened Walers rush the troughs. Men are dragged sprawling along the sand by the hurrying horses, but there are plenty of troughs. Engineers are pumping water by hand. Supplies are plentiful for the horses' wants. Side by side with our horses we drink. The water is brackish, almost as salty as the sea, but how can a man resist!

Will those horses ever stop drinking? Their bellies distended, they look just like inflated balloons. In the swiftly advancing dusk of night they seem as great round rocks with saddles on. It's great to see those horses get their fill. It's just as well we ourselves gorged too. For us, as yet, there is no water! All of us need a gulp of hot tea to counteract the nauseous feelings within, but to boil that brackish water only makes it more unpalatable.

We feed our horses and, in defiance of orders, we remove the saddles from their aching and sweaty backs, flop down in the sand and sleep! But not for long! Kicks in the ribs from the horse pickets stir us. A camel convoy has arrived with water and rations. A quart of tea; the water hot, but far from boiled, because only scraps of palm-tree branches provide fuel; a hurried snack of bully and biscuits; we form up and mount, and, long before the dawn, the regiments of the 2nd Brigade move on to the oasis of Hassaniya.

Mazar has turned out a wash-out. The most torrid stunt we've yet endured.

A. A. BATEMAN, FIRST A.I.F.

THE CORVETTE'S KILL

0FF Darwin during 1942 was played a drama of the war at sea which, while perhaps not unduly affecting the whole panoply of war, nevertheless inserted a helpful stitch into its pattern; and provided for those fortunate enough to see it a faultless exhibition of applied principles in the operation submarine versus warship.

In a sloop at the time, one morning steaming back to Darwin from Timor we felt against the ship's side a dull clang. Almost at once came the sound through the air, a faint pulse of thunder which passed overhead and muttered away to silence. Seconds later there came another explosion followed in quick succession by two more. That could be only one thing. Set to explode above, below and on either side of a submerged steel hull. Depth charges'

Sure enough our increased speed brought us in sight of the arena. Scattered at different points on a sea as smooth as an enameled sheet, watchdogs guarding possible escape holes, sat three or four corvettes. Into the circle from the west we steamed, to take up position and watch, because this was not our show.

In the centre, like a hungry otter in a pool of fish, sniffed corvette Deloraine. She had made contact with a Japanese submarine, belted him with a pattern of charges and had lost him. Now the ship walked across the water like a cat on wet grass, her asdic gear listening for the sub's panting heart. Round and round she twisted, moving slowly, seeking, probing for the metal hull. Silent and alert, we watched. Then she had him.

From the asdic compartment there came the urgent-excited but not seared-report of the operator.

"Contact bearing dead ahead!"

The ship woke to pulsing life. Deep in the engine-room telegraph bells jangled harshly.

The indicator steadied on "Full Ahead". At their throttles the engine-room artificer and leading stoker turned the huge wheels till they jammed wide open against the stops. The piston cross-heads rushed up and down at ever-increasing speed, the crankshafts whirling till they were a single flash of spinning silver, and the hum of the engine-room was changed in a second to a mighty, drumming roar.

The corvette nosed down her asdic beam like a bloodhound on the trail, a white cloud of foam opening at her bows. On the bridge the captain listened to his anti-submarine officer and spoke over his shoulder to the torpedoman on the depth charge release levers

The first pattern shot from the throwers, described a flying arc and dropped with a splash into the sea. From astern two more went searching down. The ship thrust on.

Then suddenly there came a belting thud against her sides that jumped the engine-room plates six inches from the deck. A snowy mound of water rose from the surface of the sea, shaking the ship so that she seemed to sob with rage. The mound swelled to a mountain, then broke into great columns of water and flying spray high above the masthead as the crash of the explosion came.

On the quarter deck the depth charge crews were throwing them overboard like chicken feed-this was what they'd been trained for. Below the corvette's hull six charges packed with 500 lb. of high explosive dropped swiftly to the long slim hull striving desperately to escape them. Through a small orifice in each primer water forced its way, building up pressure to push clear two small steel balls restraining the needle-pointed striker from its detonator waiting below. At the right depth the water won; the balls shot clear, powerful springs expanded, six strikers plunged downward, and 150 feet under the sea nitrogen and oxygen combined and instantaneously formed a vast quantity of gases which expanded into a shattering detonation.

The already ponderous weight of water was transformed under pressure into a crushing acreage solid as iron, squeezing the submarine's plates with the force of a mighty steam hammer. She was pitched violently under the concussion and inside her a shower of cork shook from the deck-head. Brass fittings, switch covers were jerked loose and flung across the room under the blast. One Jap on the control panel uttered a sudden cry of pain. A spurt of water as thick as a pencil had shot from her cracked side and hit him with the force of a bullet. Reports of more serious leaks came from for'ard and aft. The captain dived still deeper.

Following his every move with well-nigh omniscient exactitude, the corvette up top raced on, stopped, and raced on again. There came another slamming clang against her hull and astern a huge mountain of water erupted in foamy clouds, white against the heaven's blue. Then again and again and again, until tile whole sea, convulsed and trembling with fury, seemed to rise up and meet the sky in protest.

Then she turned, her stern slewing round with all the torque that hard-over rudder and thrusting screws could give her. Back over her course she sped, worrying, snarling, spawning a storm of high explosive from her vicious stern, till all contact ceased. Slowly she cruised on, verifying what her asdic told her. Behind her a shivering curtain of spray stood leaning slightly above a sea like a cauldron of boiling milk and below her in the freezing darkness of the Timor Sea bottom a steel hull, corrugated and ripped, lay sprawled, burst open among the weeds.

Soon it came-an oil slick seeping up like a gout of blood from the pressured depths. A current slid it down wind and we smelt its pungent reek, "made in Japan".

That was sufficient. The senior ship draped herself in congratulatory flags, and leaving Deloraine sniffing round her dead foe the rest of us coursed home for Darwin's boom.

J. E. MACDONNELL, R.A.N.