Thomas James Richards, Diaries, Transcript Vol. 3, 26 January to 8 November 1916 - Part 15

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came along and tipped the wine into the sea. Never was there
such disappointment and swearing amongst a party of men. For
weeks afterwards four barrels were standing down on the beach
towards No Man's Land, Gaba Tepe. The Turks might have been
able to get it at night time although there was a risk of our
destroyer turning a searchlight onto them. Yet I believe
some of our men did venture down the beach to get at this wine.
In all, there were probably 8 casks of wine, about only two as
far as I know were successfully opened and smuggled away. It
was a great and glorious day, Beachy Bill shot some of the
fellows around a cask but this did not interfere with them in
their attempt to get the wine away.
June 16th.    Friday.
A year ago today George Hill received his wound. With
the kindly help of Rev. Fry of Alexandrai the headstone is now
completed.
Leave is now cut down to one man every ten days and as
there are some 50 old hands left yet, there is going to be a
whole lot of growling as well as nearly three years before the
Corps completes every man's leave. This is shocking, as these
men have served two years already. Some of them are kicking
upa fuss at not getting a chance, but its a jolly difficult
matter indeed to arrange without offense to someone.
I took the bicycle and went out tog the 15t Bn. and
spent a few hours with Jack Hynes. And the remarkable part
of it is he and two privates go on leave tonight and they
have only been here 3 days from Egypt. After tea we went
and had a bottle of champagne together. My word, he and his
brigade went through some torture in the Suvla Bay scrap.
They actually reached the top of '971' and through the Tommies
failing them, they were compelled to retire, later they were
given Hill 60 to take, and they took it too, at the same time
the English were to take Hill 40 and failed so badly that the
whole of the Turks turned on Hill 60 and gave our heroes hell.

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Just think that if the English anything like played their
part, Gallipoli would have been conquered and possibly Germany
and her able Allies beaten by this time. Jack was appointed
quarter-master from the rank of private, he draws 6/6d a day
and tells me that he spends it all. Why, this morning there
was no bread for the men, so Jack goes out and buys 10
loaves out of his own pocket and then tonight he had to
borrow money to pay his fare to London, not his fare really
but other incidental expenses. On my return home, I saw
three men of the 14th Bn, down on their knees weeding a
field and would not allow the two women to interfere. There
is no doubt that our men are indeed considerate to their
women folk and it hurts them sorely to see them working so
hard.
Our 3rd and 4th Divisions are camped nearby now, I
think they have just landed from Egypt.
I measured one of those big windmills after "picturing"
it today, each arm was 38 feet long. The whole of the
structure which must weigh (several) many tons swings around
with the wind. Today is lovely, the best day for weeks
June 17th. Saturday.
There was probably the heaviest bombardment of all.
It commenced about 10 o'clock and continued like a war of
thunder until morning. Much consternation was caused in the
villages all around us by the ringing of bells and the clanging
of gongs to warn everybody civilians and all that a gas
attack had been commenced and that gas helmets should be
ready for use - horses were taken out of their stables and
in some cases galloped for miles back along the road. Our
transport were warned and wakened but they did not take the
horses out. I did not even know that there was a gas attack
on at all and slept fairly soundly although I did listen to
the continued roaring several times during the night. I
sleep on the boards of our hessian built house, the Canadians
built them and call them "shacks", with a doubled blanket
under me and I cannot say that I sleep well as my sides seem
 

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to get tired and sore so that I have to turn over a dozen
times or more.
Anyhow, since I received my date for leave to visit
England and learnt that the Warrant Officer cannot hold a
military medal, I am more light-hearted and free. Today our
football went to Steenwerck and played the 5th Field Ambulance.
After quite a good game we won by five tries to nothing. Our
backs are by far too good for most teams around here. I
played at full back and did fairly well, the ball, being a new
one, was good to handle and to kick. This putting the clock
back gives us an awfully long evening, in fact there is very
little use for candles before lights out 10 p.m.
June 18th. Sunday.
It has been a splendid day again today. The ten mess
room tables were well scrubbed and looked so well for
inspection.
A church service was held in the mess room at 2.30 p.m.
I enjoyed the singing alright, but alas, the preacher was a
dub. He went to a University to be made into a parson and
that's all there was about him, he had neither command of
language or the slightest bit of dramatic force, nor had he
used the brains God had possibly blessed him with in seeking
information throughout the world for himself. In short, he
was a weak legged parrot. They must have been short of
parsons to push this guy on to we poor suffering Australians.
Several stores are told about a night raid made by a
party of volunteers on the German trenches some few nights ago.
It seems that 70 of the 26th and 28th Bns. followed up a heavy
bombardment chiefly by trench mortars and got into the German
trenches. They had orders to bring back only four prisoners
and kill as many as they could. They wandered around a bit
throwing bombs and bayoneting, eventually leaving with four
prisoners, one of whom refused to continue so he was shot and
they went in with three. The whole party were given 6 days'
 

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leave in London, and they had a royal time. I believe any
motor load of Australians are madly cheered by men, women
and children wherever they go. Hughes is idolised by all
and may yet remain in London. He is spoken of all over
London as the man of the hour. In the streets grave charges
are levelled at Asquith, many say he is a German sympathiser
outright and he has been accused of killing Kitchener.
June 19th. Monday.
There has been a remarkable amount of correspondence
from the Williams (Wales) regarding my leave to be there in
time for Mabel's wedding day. First, Mabel wrote asking
me very nicely to come to Marshfield for the wedding. I
wrote asking her to be more pleading so that I will have
something to show to the Colonel, so she wrote saying that
it was absolutely essential I be present on June 20th.
Chas. — the bridegroom, wrote in a similar strain while
Mr. and Mrs. Williams wrote also. Today, a telegram came,
it ran:
Castleton, Monmouthshire.
"Licence obtained Tuesday, certain to come
at once.
Mabel".
to which I replied 20/6/16 :-
"May your new sphere with prosperity abound.
Health and happiness be your proud guardians.
Tom Richards."
(Cost 3 francs, 8d.)
What I really wrote out to send was the sort of stuff that
would surely convict a man on the score of insanity. When
I showed it to the fellows about, they could not follow it,
and when Mr. Neve was asked to censor it, he said, "all
messages must be in plain English". It ran as follows :-
"Cupid's cupidity, Venus satiety,
Hyman triumphant. May Jove's attention
delight and Father Time preserve you and
yours
I was inclined to add then, "And Cerberus recognise you".
This of course is all Greek mythology and very few people
understand such.
 

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Anyhow, I have not shown any of this matter to the
Colonel or asked any favour outside of Angus Ferguson's letter
to come to Scotland and arrange African affairs.
June 20th. Tuesday.
I borrowed a horse this morning and rode into Estaires
to send my wire to Mabel Williams, it had to be censored here
in camp and passed again by the Town Major before going with
it to the French telegraphic office.
The attraction of the moment is the "Miss Lena Ashwell'
concert party. Five men all told, and they put up an
excellent job too. The comedy was a treat to we poor gone
stale devils. These good artists had a glorious reception,
and if praise and appreciation could please anybody, these men
have gone away very happy.
It has just turned 10 p.m., and it is quite light.
The fellows in fact are still playing bowls. I must get in
an hour's quiet writing so I am sitting in a corner of the
mess room with boxes around to shield the light from the
orderly officer or N.C.0.
B Section has left us to go into the line of fire and
I expect and hope we will soon follow.
June 21st. Wednesday.
One point that stood out very strongly in my mind at
last night's concert was the short, apologising speech of the
manager. They, the company, were billed for 6 p.m., and
turned up 25 minutes late. The manager bustled in and said,
"I'm exceeding sorry to think that you have been kept waiting.
The most detestable feature in man to me is the fellow who
has no respect for his own appointments. This, I assure you,
is absolutely no fault of ours; we did not know where to find
you and have been shockingly misdirected. I am downright
sorry, men!' These few words were, naturally, greeted with
loud cheers. Seldom does it fall to a soldier's lot to hear
an apology for overtime appointments. If only our inspecting
 

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officers could have heard this speech, it might have done
them a whole lot of good. It may possibly lead them to
appreciate the fact that a soldier is human after all.
These inspecting officers sometimes keep whole battalions
waiting for a whole day. In Egypt, I remember lying out in
the hot sun from 9 a.m. until 1.15 p.m., and then no inspection
took place. This sets a bad example to men who are still
flesh and blood and have a sort of mind and conscience left
them. They hate this sheer pompousness and men brought up
in a business and commercial world, or bushmen who are in the
habit of taking a man's word for his bond, lose faith in
their officers generally; particularly when each and every
man of them knows the value of punctuality and find the men
who preach it most failing them at every turn.
Today I had a fit of the blues and, with Tom Yeomans
decided upon a walk out into the country and away from the
camps generally. We decided upon Outtersteen with several
objects in view, one was to look up Mick Roche - my cousin
who is in A Company, 46th Bn. I found, however, that he
is in the transport section and is en route from Abbeville
with the horses and waggons. Another mission was to
discover the whereabouts of the 14th Field Ambulance. They
are with the 5th Division and are expected to arrive at any
time. And, lastly, there was the Cafe du Commerce, with
the three girls to call on! Here we were well received and
spent a happy hour. The lightning changes of these girls
when their photographs were to be taken was wonderful.
Their blouses and their hair were changed and brushed up and
they sat patiently and well. We had tea at Annie's on a
large omelette and some tinned fruit returning to Doulieu by
a different route to that which we came.
Going out, in fact, we walked through the farms and were
delighted although the high grass and the jumping of continual
watercourses made it very tiresome going. But then the hard
going was more than compensated for by the rural beauty.
 

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Wheat just bursting into ears of healthy grain, potatoes
beginning to flower and looking so strong and productive.
Although I have for years been of the opinion that potatoes
were hardly a success in deep soil. The broad beans grew
by the rice? and were in all sorts of stages right from the
germination of the seed to fully flowered plants, and, oh,
the fragrance of these bean fields was"exquisite"- its not
often I use that word but it seems quite justifiable here.
The large paddocks of peas were also very beautiful, they
were growing without support in areas of quite an acre.
There were patches of what might have been turnips or 
beetroot, so very young that we could not tell which. Anyhow,
knowing turnips to be such a sustaining food, as is shown by
many English families that live almost solely upon them, I
am a little surprised to see that they are not more
extensively grown. Also rhubarb, there are very small
patches about but I really expected to see hundreds of tons
of it.
Horse fodder is largely grown, it is a kind of pea
with "black" oats scattered about amongst it. Coming home
we stopped to watch them cutting it down and were greatly
struck by the quick way the men cover the ground with a
stick 3 feet long and an iron hook attached in the left hand,
and a small sickle in the right hand that was adroitly
handled and did remarkable execution at every stroke and
never once did the farmer dig into the ground and yet kept
within one inch of the ground the whole time. It was a
clever exhibition and I waited watching anxiously for some
time. The swallow flew excitedly around, darting and dodging
as only swallows can. They were evidently after the worms,
grubs &c. in the moist ground from which the fodder was
being cut.
Great animation was seen in every field, fields that
run on for any distance without a single fence and but few
roads or hedges to spoil the general panorama effect of the
 

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whole countryside. A huge cultivation without a break, and
as far as appearances go, might be the garner of the world.
Dingle, an Hawkesbury College student, says he has noticed a
whole lot of rust in amongst the wheat. This may be so, but
on appearances the land is as prolific as the Nile Valley, and
with changes of greens that are softer and a delight to gaze
upon, particularly from a horse's back riding peacefully along
the road. The Nile has perhaps an advantage in being able to
produce something the whole year round, being as they are
without any Winter worth the name. On getting towards home,
8.40 p.m., some 14 aeroplanes were seen coming over the German
lines and were having, thousands of shots fired at them. It
was very exciting to watch them and wonder for a moment whose
machine they really were. It was a brilliant spectacle to
see all these machines flying amongst the curtain fire of
shrapnel. Where these machines crossed over the lines, on
what must have been a raiding stunt, we don't know at all, or
whether or not they returned we don't know. It was a thrilling
venture ; it makes one wish that he too were a flying man.
These flying men seem not only to get the freest and most
exciting life of any man in the army, but they see things, they
are in a position to see the actual position of the opposing
forces and to follow the results. We poor grubs of the earth
see nothing, and learn nothing. We get no opportunity to use
our mental faculties, we see nothing,either we are just
groping blindly in the wilderness. We might be winning the
war or we might be losing the war, we don't know, nor do we
see or heed enough to care much. Our interests in the
struggle are too centralised, too local. Therefore the
airman is to be envied.
June 22nd. Thursday.
Today is very hot indeed, the first hot day we've had
for some considerable time now. I received a letter from
Mrs. Ferguson in which she gives me a very urgent invitation to
stay with Angus people in Scotland, their names I don't quite
know. I must go to Glasgow and do the Lakes, and, if possible,
 

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the Highlands.
There are a lot of English Yeomanry around our district
at present, the bulk of their horses I have not seen. They
look likely fellows, but still if they are to follow up an
attack, then why on earth don't they give us Australian horsemen,
they would harass the Germans more in twenty minutes than
any bunch of Englishmen would in 24 hours. The Australians
would blow up and burn down buildings that the English would
take three days in attempting to starve them out. Its war and
I believe that the Englishmen even now has not learned the
lesson, drilled into our men by observation only, that this
war is an all-in game, there's no referee to penalise or
nobody to bother about but win, win, and win, employing all,
and every method conceivable, no beg your pardon, sir! Its
go your damnest, play your enemy at his own game, show no
quarter. Its war, that's all, just war! Hard, cold and
cruel. The Australian is the adaptable man possessed of
courage, animal instinct and bush resource. The Englishman
lacks both dash and resource. He has never been allowed to
think and shift for himself. We want the Australians to
lead the infantry attacks also. I fear the English will
b-–----  about, dig himself in when he has the enemy only half
routed, as they lost Helles and Suvla Bay.
June 23rd. Friday.
Last night there was a period of very heavy bombarding.
At mid-day it started again and continued until a heavy
 thunderstorm broke out at 4.30 p.m. It was the heaviest shower of
rain with lightning and thunder that I have yet seen in France.
At 5.30 it cleared up and the bombardment continues again,
some of the explosions fairly shake the ground around here and
we must be 7 or 6 miles back. The rumble is most continuous.
It makes me shudder to think of what is really happening and
yet as a fellow just casually remarked, "those damn fools will
be killing someone yet" referring to the roar of cannon and
trench mortars. I am not so much sorry for the killed or
 

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wounded as I am over the fact that they don't get a sporting
chance for their lives at all. I just heard that the Germans
sent in 190 9in. shells around our guns and never hurt a thing.
June 24th. Saturday.
With all the rain of yesterday, the football field
behind the transport lines was in real good order for a scratch
match this afternoon. A & B teams played a hard, rough and
tumble game. There were a whole lot of minor injuries but
nevertheless it was a good-natured game and enjoyed by all.
The referree's watch stopped, or he did not carry one at all
as we played 52 minutes in the first half and 45 in the
second. This meant that everybody was played right out.
I had a lot to do at full back and could hardly stand up at
the finish of the game. Three of our officers played and
were handled with a little more dispatch than the others.
June 25th. Sunday.
I got my pants back from the old French lady cleaned and
mended. I gave her two francs for the job. Another old
dame then commenced to cut my hair and shave me. I have been
handled by many strange barbers from time to time but this old
girl beat them all. There was only a ray of light coming in
through one little window and as my head had to come round to
it, she practiced more holds and grips upon me than any
Japanese wrestler possibly could. But to her credit, she
had good sharp instruments to work with, and finished up a
good clean job, charging only 2/2d.
We had a church service in the afternoon and the parson
put up a very good job indeed. I was pleased to hear him say
that the book "Lorna Doone" was one of the best ever written.
This point I have held for some years though I do get into
discussion over the idea.
July 26th. Monday.
I have been trying very hard to write to Bessie Blaxland.
The trouble is, I think, that I make my letters too long.