An Australian Band of Brothers: Don Company, Second 43rd Battalion, 9th Division

By Mark Johnston

This riveting book follows a small group of Australian front-line soldiers from their enlistment in the dark days of 1940 to the end of World War II. No ordinary soldiers, they were members of Don Company of the Second 43rd Battalion, part of the famous 9th Australian Division, which sustained more casualties and won more medals than any other Australian division. Inspired by American historian Stephen Ambrose's landmark book, Band of Brothers, about the US Army's Easy Company of the 506th Regiment, Mark Johnston, one of our best military historians, here gives an Australian company the same treatment. His book is a unique and powerful account of the everyday experiences of a small unit of Australian soldiers on the front line.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Independent Publishers Group
• Release date: Sep 25, 2018
• ISBN: 9781742244105

Mark Johnston

Dr Mark Johnston is an independent scholar with over forty years experience in the greenspace industry, including working as a tree officer in local government, consultant in private practice, government adviser and university lecturer. He is a Fellow of the Institute of Chartered Foresters (Chartered Arboriculturist), Fellow of the Chartered Institute of Horticulture and Honorary Fellow of the Arboricultural Association. Although originally from London, Mark is based in Belfast where he has lived for the past twenty-five years. In 2007, he was appointed MBE in recognition of his services to trees and the urban environment. In 2009, Mark became the first British person to receive the International Society of Arboriculture’s most prestigious honour, the Award of Merit.

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AN AUSTRALIAN BAND OF BROTHERS

DR MARK JOHNSTON is Head of the History Department at Scotch College, Melbourne, Victoria. One of Australia’s most prominent experts on the Australian Army in the Second World War, Dr Johnston was described in the Australian War Memorial’s magazine, Wartime, as ‘the leading historian on the experience of Australian soldiers during the war’. This book, his eleventh, goes to the heart of that wartime experience.

AN AUSTRALIAN

BAND OF BROTHERS

DON COMPANY, SECOND 43RD BATTALION, 9TH DIVISION

TOBRUK • ALAMEIN • NEW GUINEA • BORNEO

MARK JOHNSTON

A NewSouth book

Published by

NewSouth Publishing

University of New South Wales Press Ltd

University of New South Wales

Sydney NSW 2052

AUSTRALIA

newsouthpublishing.com

© Mark Johnston 2018

First published 2018

This book is copyright. Apart from any fair dealing for the purpose of private study, research, criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright Act, no part of this book may be reproduced by any process without written permission. Inquiries should be addressed to the publisher.

ISBN   9781742235721 (paperback)

9781742248516 (ePDF)

9781742244105 (ebook)

A catalogue record for this book is available from the National Library of Australia

Design Josephine Pajor-Markus

Cover design Luke Causby, Blue Cork

Cover images NCOs and privates of the 2/43rd Battalion at Cairns wharf, August 1943 (AWM 055357); Colour patch of the 2/43rd Battalion, introduced in December 1942.

Maps Josephine Pajor-Markus

All reasonable efforts were taken to obtain permission to use copyright material reproduced in this book, but in some cases copyright could not be traced. The author welcomes information in this regard.

Infantry men are entirely different to any other branch of the army – they are the real army – the men who know how to die bravely. By this time I’m almost one of them and hope to be capable of such tasks as Tobruk and El Alamein. All the officers are splendid chaps and there is a general feeling of comradeship throughout the whole company.

Vincent Graham, Don Company, 2/43rd Battalion, diary,

8 August 1943¹

To the memory of Allan, Gordon and John

CONTENTS

List of Maps

Acknowledgments

Introduction

Chapter 1Rookies at Woodside (June–December 1940)

Chapter 2Voyage to the Middle East (30 December 1940–2 February 1941)

Chapter 3Egypt and Palestine (February–March 1941)

Chapter 4Tobruk: Into battle (March–April 1941)

Chapter 5Tobruk under siege (May–July 1941)

Chapter 6Tobruk: The Salient (July–August 1941)

Chapter 7Tobruk: Rest – in peace (August 1941)

Chapter 8‘Combo’: ‘The type to lead Australian soldiers’? (March–August 1941)

Chapter 9Tobruk: The last months (August–October 1941)

Chapter 10Palestine and Syria (October 1941–June 1942)

Chapter 11Egypt: Raid on Rommel (21 June–11 July 1942)

Chapter 12Ruin Ridge: Clash by night (12–28 July 1942)

Chapter 13El Alamein: Preparing for the big push (July–22 October 1942)

Chapter 14El Alamein: The greatest battle begins (23–31 October 1942)

Chapter 15Alamein in November: The greatest challenge (1–6 November 1942)

Chapter 16To Australia and jungle training (7 November 1942 – 8 August 1943)

Chapter 17New Guinea: Lae (9 August – 26 September 1943)

Chapter 18New Guinea: Jivevaneng (27 September – 17 October 1943)

Chapter 19New Guinea: To Pabu and beyond (18 October 1943 – January 1944)

Chapter 20Australia and the road to Borneo (February 1944 – June 1945)

Chapter 21Borneo: Labuan and Beaufort (10 June 1945 – February 1946)

Conclusion

Notes

Bibliography

Index

MAPS

Map 1Australia

Map 2The area of the 2/43rd Battalion’s operations at Tobruk, April–October 1941

Map 3The 2/43rd Battalion’s area of operations at El Alamein, July–November 1942

Map 4John Lovegrove’s Alamein map, showing the position of the 2/43rd Battalion at the Blockhouse, El Alamein, on 1 November 1942

Map 5The area of the 2/43rd Battalion’s operations at Lae, September 1943

Map 6The area of the 2/43rd Battalion’s operations at Finschhafen, September–December 1943

Map 7Operations on Labuan, 10–21 June 1945

Map 8Operations in Borneo, 16 June–30 July 1945

Map 9Attack on Beaufort, 26–29 June 1945

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

This book exists because of the generosity of the three men at its heart. Nearly thirty years ago, Gordon Combe, Allan Jones and John Lovegrove lent me memoirs and wartime writings, as well as corresponding with me directly.

Writing this tribute to them and their battalion has naturally involved other people. Phillipa McGuinness, at NewSouth, commissioned my first book more than twenty years ago, and I am very grateful that she has commissioned and overseen this eleventh one. Many thanks also to project editor Deborah Nixon and proofreader Bronwyn Sweeney. Gordon Combe’s son Andrew lent me important material and met me in Adelaide. Bob Hare generously lent me his father Ivan’s wartime diary. Janet Hayes, whose father Lindsay Thomas plays a major role in the book, very kindly lent me a transcript of his extraordinary diary. Ken Madigan gave me the benefit of his writings and lifetime of reflections about the 2/43rd, especially about his father Pat’s service. I’m grateful to Anthony, Chris and Paul Coen for helping me to find out more about a fine officer, John Coen, and about Vincent Graham. Chris Cotton provided me with important material concerning his great-uncle Frank Cotton and another veteran, Colin Bradshaw. Roger Lane-Glover, Gerald Glover and Louise Skabo all gave valuable assistance concerning their father, Mervyn Glover, one of Don Company’s best commanders. Bill Corey, one of the few surviving 2/43rd Battalion members, gave me the benefit of his insights in an interview. Major Chris Roe generously gave me valuable assistance from Keswick Barracks, as did Keven Draper. My thanks also for the help I received from Peter Stanley, Phillip Bradley, Chris Soar, the Treloar family, Gerald Johnston, Rich Blandford and Sherril Schultz. Cathryn Game was once again a fine copy-editor.

As always, the support of my family, and especially my dear wife Deborah, was important to me in the years it has taken to complete this project.

INTRODUCTION

On 6 December 1943, a day after being relieved from heavy fighting in the New Guinea jungle, an Australian lieutenant wrote to his wife: ‘I sometimes think I should have got a soft job, but then I should not have had, nor understood, the tribulations and emotions of the man who fights the enemy at the closest range.’ That officer, Gordon Combe, and two of his fellow soldiers, are the main subject of this book, which is based on their accounts of their ‘tribulations and emotions’ as fighting men.¹

I came to know Gordon and his two mates, Allan Jones and John Lovegrove, because they responded to a request I placed in more than 250 Australian newspapers in 1988. The request was to borrow letters, diaries and memoirs from Australian soldiers who had served in the Second World War. All three men were members of the 2/43rd (pronounced Second 43rd) Battalion during the war, and for some time were in the same platoon of about 30 men. They served in important and demanding campaigns at Tobruk, El Alamein, New Guinea and, in Gordon’s case, Borneo. Each wrote fascinating and unusually detailed accounts of their experiences, and I resolved to use those accounts as the basis of a book about them, their platoon and their battalion. I have also decided to tell the story of their company of about 120 men, known as D Company or Don Company. In this I have been partly inspired by Stephen Ambrose’s Band of Brothers, concerning Easy Company of the 506th Regiment. That regiment was part of the 101st Airborne Division, one of the most famous US divisions. The Australian division of which the 2/43rd and in turn Allan, Gordon and John were part – the 9th Division – was of similar standing to the 101st. During the war it was famous for holding Tobruk, for playing a crucial role at Alamein, and for spearheading US General Douglas MacArthur’s operations in New Guinea in 1943. Don Company of the 2/43rd was part of all that fighting, and was for example the first Australian unit to enter operations in the Western Desert in 1942, when it launched a highly successful raid on 7 July.

As mentioned, Allan, Gordon and John lent me unusually detailed accounts of their war. Allan first sent me a collection of his wartime letters, then his memoir of the war, a 333-page memoir called ‘A Volunteer’s Story’. He found writing it an ‘agonising’ experience, and it took him three tries to complete something he could read without embarrassment. He was self-conscious about his lack of education and writing skill, but readers of the following pages will see that he was in fact adept at expressing himself. His account is in places a day-by-day one of such experiences as defending Tobruk. When Gordon Combe contacted me, he was an established author, having written several books on Australian politics and most of the excellent published history of the 2/43rd. During the war he wrote more than 420 letters to his fiancée and wife Margaret, and used these as the basis of his autobiography, ‘My Three-Score Years and Ten’. As he said himself, this letter-based approach led to less analysis and more gaps than otherwise might have been the case. On the other hand, it reflects his contemporary views brilliantly.²

John Lovegrove sent me his memoirs as he finished each section, in the late 1980s. He called it an expanded version of his war diary. He had decided to keep a diary during pre-embarkation leave in December 1940, when a Great War veteran who had been his squadron commander in the militia Light Horse advised him to record daily events for two reasons. One was that after the war the details of dates, places and comrades were too easily forgotten. The other reason – less appealing to John – was that if he did not return from the war, reading the diary would be a comfort to his parents. In offering me his writings he apologised ‘for lack of quality in regard to spelling lapses, variations of tense and with typographical errors’. The critical sentence was this one: ‘However, it is what it is warts and all.’ That ‘warts and all’ quality instantly drew me to John’s diary-cum-memoir, and the reasons will be obvious in what follows. He was for example more inclined to criticise superiors in writing than were Allan or Gordon. He once sent me a letter containing extracts from books about errors made by generals in war, often on the basis of envy, nationalism and favouritism. His covering comments included the point: ‘From personal experience as a soldier of the line, this trait of human nature, call it jealousy, perverseness, covetousness, or excessive egotism[,] in fact filters down through the chain of command from corps level to Divisional Commanders, to Brigade and Battalion and even to Company, Platoon and Section level.’ His expertise on those last three levels is vital to this book.³

John’s letter was one of many I received from these three men, and especially from Allan and Gordon. Not only did they send me their own writings but also they commented on my writing and answered many questions. These letters have also proved a mine of information and opinion for what follows. None of these men is alive now to further explain what they said. All three had their own perspectives on the events and people discussed here, and naturally their opinions often differed, especially given the stressful, chaotic and bloody nature of what they were discussing. I have striven in all cases to find the truth, or show different interpretations of it, and I take responsibility for all the interpretations herein. The following book contains an unusually detailed explanation of life in a front-line unit, although the swearing that was a common part of the soldiers’ language is not here because it was not generally in their writing. It was an era when men were expected to show no emotion and, in Allan’s words, to ‘shed no tears under any circumstances’. As we shall see, the strains of war could lead to that taboo being broken, but while Allan, Gordon and John did not cry, they did reveal in their writings the deep emotions that their ordeal stirred. So while the soldiers’ written words cannot recapture all that was said or done, they can tell us much more than the official descriptions of military dispositions and manoeuvres. Readers of what follows should emerge knowing much more about how Australian soldiers operated in the Second World War, and especially about how they fought and thought.⁴

Gordon Combe’s name has been read by countless people, for a Luger pistol he was given by a German he captured at Alamein in the July 1942 raid mentioned above is on display, with an explanatory caption, at the Australian War Memorial in Canberra. He is also the subject of a display in the Medals Room at Keswick Barracks in Adelaide. Yet while his name is read, it is surely not widely remembered. He, Allan and John all wrote memoirs partly in the hope that their names would live on. It was a hope shared by Achilles in the Iliad, and by warriors ever since. I have written this book to help perpetuate the names of these three men and the memory of the wider Australian ‘band of brothers’ of which they were part.

CHAPTER 1

ROOKIES AT WOODSIDE

June–December 1940

The 2/43rd Battalion was formed in July 1940, when British fortunes were at their lowest ebb in the Second World War. France had just fallen, and Britain was fighting Nazi Germany alone. Recruitment for overseas service in the all-volunteer Australian Imperial Force (AIF) had been sluggish, but now many Australian men decided that the war was relevant to them and that they should enlist.

Three who decided to join up were Allan Jones, John Lovegrove and Gordon Combe. Like many original members of the 2/43rd, all three had spent much of their lives in country South Australia. Allan ‘Acker’ Jones was born in 1918 in Renmark, on the Murray River 160 miles (250 km) north-east of Adelaide. His parents were Methodists who neither drank nor smoked. His father’s work as a railwayman took the family to other towns, but when war broke out Allan was working in Renmark as a ‘motor painter’. He was 21 years old, 5 feet 7 inches (170 cm) tall, of slight build and with dark brown hair and eyes. He had joined the militia, or Citizen Military Forces (CMF), at 17 in 1936, and when news came of the catastrophes in France he was a member of the militia 43rd/48th Infantry Battalion, which was undergoing its second wartime camp. Although always an independent thinker, Allan still became caught up in a ‘patriotic fervour’ in the militia camp, and received permission with a group of others to go to Wayville, Adelaide, and enlist in the AIF. They ignored the fact that AIF pay was lower than militia pay.¹

Allan later admitted that if asked in 1940 why he was enlisting he could probably not have given a sensible answer. He believed it typical of young people to feel a vague but strong ambition to contribute to society, even at considerable personal risk and sacrifice. At Wayville, rather than be sworn in, he and a mate, Henry Howell, took the advice of a Reception Staff Sergeant at the Recruit Reception Depot to take two weeks’ home leave in Renmark and then return. A fortnight later, on 19 June, he and a group of twenty other volunteers swore on a Bible to serve their country and sovereign for the duration of the war and twelve months thereafter. Allan was struck by the ‘amazing assembly of men’, from all over the state, some dressed in militia uniform – like him – others in civilian clothes of varying degrees of formality. Still others were wearing items of new uniform, including the trademark fur felt hats – although not yet dented in the normal AIF style – and heavy tan boots, which Allan considered ‘a hideous red colour’.²

John Lovegrove, also called ‘Johnny’, never wrote about why he joined. On enlistment this 22-year-old was 5 feet 9½ inches (176 cm) tall, of average build, with fair complexion and hair, and hazel eyes. His father, like Allan’s, worked for the South Australian Railways, as a stationmaster. The family were transferred all over the state. John, who had been born at Loxton, about 25 miles (40 km) from Renmark, on 11 May 1918, attended primary and secondary school in various places. He was self-conscious about his limited education, but was literate enough to be appointed a junior clerk with the wool, pastoral and livestock firm Elder, Smith & Company. He worked at different branches, including Orroroo, where he enlisted on 18 June 1940. His travels through country South Australia meant that when he headed to Woodside camp after enlisting he knew many of the other recruits to the 2/43rd Battalion: classmates from primary and high school, workmates, sons of Elder’s clients, and sporting contacts. He also knew something of military discipline, having attended a three-month militia camp with the Light Horse earlier that year.³

MAP 1: Australia

Gordon Combe was born at Gumeracha, east of Adelaide, on 12 June 1917. His pioneer grandfather, Henry Combe, had built up a large property at Crystal Brook, in the state’s north. Henry’s eldest son, George, worked on the land, then moved to the goldfields at Kalgoorlie, married fellow South Australian Ethel Wilson and became a baker. In 1914, he and his family returned to South Australia, where George was successively a baker at Gumeracha, a fruiterer in North Adelaide, and an employee of the Engineering and Water Supply Department at St Peters. He temporarily lost his job during the Great Depression, and for a time the Combes depended on Ethel making and selling pastries from home, as well as any income their son Bernard brought in for the family’s five children. One of those children, Gordon, was a fine sportsman, excelling at cricket and soccer, and representing South Australia as a schoolboy in the latter. He was greatly influenced by his mother, ‘a lady of nobility of character’. He was proud that, while keeping wickets for Torrens in district cricket in 1935, he had caught the legendary Don Bradman. This catch was Gordon’s most memorable moment in a long cricket career. The Headmaster of Norwood High School recognised Gordon as a young man of great integrity and remarkable ability.⁴

Gordon experienced difficulties typical for those seeking employment during the Depression but, after working at the State Bank from the age of 16, by 1940 he had recently been appointed a clerk at the South Australian Parliament in Adelaide. Although he was continuing university studies, the job meant a lot to him. He was also deeply in love with Margaret Eley, whom he had met on being transferred to the Loxton branch of the State Bank in 1937.

Nevertheless, Gordon was disturbed by events on the other side of the world. He wrote to Margaret in April 1940 that news of the arrival of the first contingent of Australian troops overseas had ‘aroused certain desires, Margaret – I can’t say how long it will be before fulfilment is reached’. It sounded like a physical urge. Masculine pride emerged in his next comment: ‘I’m not very keen on sheltering behind those boys’ backs.’ On 7 June, with the Netherlands and Belgium having fallen and the evacuation of Dunkirk indicating the imminent fall of France, he told Margaret: ‘I didn’t go to lectures last night; the chances of finishing my degree course have now been thrown to the winds in a more important cause.’⁵

He was also torn in deciding between the services, for like many educated young men he found the air force attractive. Yet that might require waiting up to six months on a reserve list. Hence he suddenly decided on the AIF, despite the fact that, unlike Allan and John, he had no militia experience. He passed two medical examinations, the second at the Wayville Showgrounds, although like many young Australians he had dental problems that required immediate attention: three fillings and one extraction. The following day he reported to Wayville again and was sworn in on 29 June. He became SX6977, Private G.D. Combe. The ‘X’ in a man’s regimental number marked him as an AIF volunteer, the ‘S’ as a South Australian – ‘V’ for Victoria, ‘T’ for Tasmania and so on. The 6977 referred to him being the 6977th recruit in that state. John was SX5674, Allan SX5844. The lower the number, the more prestigious, four-figure numbers being a badge of honour. Gordon was 23 years old, 5 feet 11½ inches (181 cm) tall, powerfully built, and with brown eyes and black hair.⁶

On enlisting, Gordon received a flannel collarless shirt, which he declared made him look like a convict. Some men probably felt as if they had become prisoners at Wayville, given the new regime. They had to sleep on the asphalt floor of the motor pavilion of the Showgrounds, although the straw in their palliasses offered cushioning until it was squashed down. Men who bunked down near a headquarters soon learnt their mistake, for they were prime candidates for sergeant majors seeking men for fatigues – usually dirty jobs. Another potential pitfall came in the so-called Drafting Yards, where former typists, tractor drivers and explosives experts were in demand.⁷

So Allan, Gordon and John were among many new recruits finding their feet at Woodside in the Adelaide Hills at the beginning of July 1940. Gordon described the camp to Margaret as ‘finely situated in hilly country beautifully green and studded with gums’, although at the time he felt sick with ‘a throat like a gravel path’, and he later acknowledged that the contrast between the comforts of home and a regimented life under canvas in the Adelaide Hills in midwinter was ‘stunning’. His first breakfast there became an abiding memory. After lining up in a queue outside the mess hut, he reached the serving point, where an orderly flopped a ladle of ‘bergoo’ (porridge) into Gordon’s tin dixie. To Gordon’s inquiry about sugar, the man said, ‘It’s in it.’ And to his query about milk came the laconic reply: ‘You don’t get any.’ Gordon briefly wished that he had never left home.⁸

Huts slowly replaced tents at Woodside, but most men were initially in tents sleeping eight or ten at a time. The dirt floors made it hard to keep anything clean in this small, crowded place. Allan thought that ‘co-ordination and consideration had to be exercised for peace and harmony, and was perhaps good training for the future’. By August men were sleeping fifty to seventy per hut, in which the galvanised unlined walls made for a roomier experience. Huts were equipped with electric light, had wires for hanging towels running right down their length, and ledges all the way around. Unlike tents, they would not blow down, but they were cold – icy drops fell from the frosty ceiling. Gordon wore a woollen balaclava in bed.⁹

Allan, Gordon, John and the hundreds around them had been selected to comprise the new 2/43rd Battalion. Table 1 illustrates the strength of the typical battalion and other military forces and units of the time.

TABLE 1: The military hierarchy

Note: The rank of major has been omitted because majors tended to be second in command rather than in charge of units, although they sometimes commanded companies.

Before the outbreak of war, a militia of 8000 part-time soldiers already existed for the defence of Australia, and the numbering of battalions, brigades and divisions of the Second AIF was organised to avoid confusion between the new organisations and their counterparts in the five militia divisions. Thus the first AIF division raised was the 6th Division. The battalions were given the prefix ‘2/’ (pronounced ‘second’) to distinguish them from their militia equivalents. Hence the name ‘2/43rd Battalion’, which was initially allocated to the 8th Division. There had been a 43rd Battalion in the First AIF during the First World War. It had been disbanded in 1919, reraised in 1921, renamed the Hindmarsh Regiment in 1927, then in 1930 amalgamated with another battalion and called the 43rd/48th Battalion. As mentioned, Allan was in this battalion when war broke out. The 2/43rd had connections with these other units, for the 2/43rd was keen to maintain a sense of continuity with its illustrious near-namesake of the First World War. It was a prosaic name, but won the same loyalty from its men as much grander-sounding units in other armies.¹⁰

Each battalion of the Second AIF had five companies. One, a Headquarters Company, initially included six specialist platoons: signals, anti-aircraft, mortars, carriers, pioneers and transport. The other four companies, named A, B, C and D, were rifle companies. The men in these companies, its assault troops, represented two-thirds of the unit. Each was further divided into three platoons, numbered 7–9 (A Company), 10–12 (B Company), 13–15 (C Company) and 16–18 (D Company). Each platoon comprised three sections. In each of Allan Jones’ three campaigns, his section included ten men and a section leader, usually a corporal. The last numbered platoon, No. 18, comprised sections 7, 8 and 9. That platoon is central to this book, as is D Company, also known as ‘Don Company’. Riflemen fraternised most within their platoons and tended to identify with them. If asked what part of the battalion he belonged to, a man would probably name his platoon, which also identified his company.¹¹

Johnny and Acker Jones went to 18 Platoon. Gordon’s civilian background soon had him allotted as a clerk with the rank of corporal in the Headquarters Company orderly room, where those caught going absent without leave (AWL) or committing some other misdemeanour were brought to justice. Gordon was keen to transfer to the Intelligence Section and to gain further promotion. While the 2/43rd awaited the arrival of a commanding officer at Woodside in July, militia officers supervised the early administration and training. Many of them eventually became officers of the unit.

In mid-month the first Commanding Officer (CO) arrived from Victoria. He was Major (soon Lieutenant-Colonel) Bill Crellin, a regular soldier who had served with the famous 14th Battalion in the First World War. While experienced and technically expert, at 43 he was too old for the physical demands that lay ahead. An advantage of his presence was the development of a consultative style of command. Crellin was willing to listen to the suggestions of the officers of the battalion, which was said to be run like a business.¹²

The chief business of the first months was turning civilians into soldiers. The officers, and some men like Allan and John, had various degrees of familiarity with military life but, in the words of the battalion history, ‘the bulk of the troops had entered, voluntarily, a new and unfamiliar world’. The history captures their motivation nicely: ‘They had forsaken freedom for freedom’s sake, inspired by a sense of duty which brought with it the prospect of adventure.’ This of course is a well-known pair of reasons for joining, but, as Allan once pointed out to me, ‘adventure’ was not just about taking risks for thrills but also gaining a broader experience, extending one’s real education, raising one’s status in the community and enjoying the family pride one inspired.¹³

The soldiers who had in 1939 joined the first division raised, the 6th, had been described – and in some cases castigated – as men who had joined for the money. Critics described them as economic conscripts, or ‘5 bob a day killers’. Allan suggested in his memoir that even in 1940 some of the men were joining because of the continuing effects of the Depression. He recalled that ‘many of us who had jobs then had no security, working long hours with no paid holidays and often below award rates, with no redress against any practice an employer cared to introduce’. He believed that many unemployed or underemployed men joined the AIF, sometimes at the cost of their lives. On the other hand, many who signed up felt important and successful for the first time in lives previously full of non-achievement and with negative prospects.¹⁴

Like every battalion, the 2/43rd were a diverse group, many of whom would never have met in civilian life but who were now brought together, in many cases for years to come. Johnny reflected:

The personnel of the Battalion were largely drawn from country areas of our State – from Mt Gambier to Port Augusta, Renmark to Ceduna and all provincial towns and tiny rural communities in between, and including some 60 from Broken Hill, mainly mine workers generally somewhat older than the average age and the rest were city dwellers from metropolitan Adelaide.¹⁵

Occupations represented included accountant, artist, baker, butcher, clerk, drover, farmer, fisherman, jockey, labourer, lawyer, public servant, schoolteacher, shearer, shop assistant, student, transport driver and wharfie. The challenge was to make them all able to fulfil roles within a modern army. Johnny described the transition to army regimentation and discipline as ‘a traumatic culture shock’ for many of these civilians. In particular the Broken Hill group included ‘a hard core of bar-brawling rebellious types who found the early requirements of discipline most irksome!’ John felt that ‘the tensions, disagreements, and personality conflicts often seemed irreconcilable in those early days at Woodside’. Allan’s tentmates were irritated by an older recruit, a Scot, who woke frequently at night and proceeded to light a cigarette each time. On one occasion he woke them all to tell them of his unjustified fears that the tent was about to blow down. Yet over the succeeding weeks and months a subtle change in spirit occurred. There were shuffles within the battalion’s subunits as men sought their mates or better roles. The Scot left. After a while the shuffling ended. Men developed strong identification with their platoons, companies and battalion.¹⁶

As was the case all over Australia, these volunteers adapted to the unfamiliar level of regimentation. Australian attitudes to authority were notoriously more relaxed than British ones, but there were very few genuine misfits and most recruits were willing to do as they were told so as to get a chance at the great adventure that going to the war represented. And they were kept busy training. They were occupied from the time that the bugle sounded ‘Reveille’ at 0600 – as 6am was now called – through ‘Cookhouse’ for mess parades, ‘Fall-in’ for roll call, ‘Retreat’ at sundown and finally, and most welcome, ‘Lights Out’ at 9.30pm (2130 to them). And the bugle was not the only loud call that had to be obeyed, for their training was accompanied with what John called ‘the seemingly constant and raucous barking of orders from the Company Sergeant Majors and Platoon Sergeants’.¹⁷

And what activities occupied them? They were taught to drill and march. There was weapons training, on the Lee–Enfield Rifle No. 1 Mk III*. This powerful bolt-action rifle with a tenround magazine, also known as the SMLE (Short Magazine Lee–Enfield), was very similar to the Lee–Enfield that Australians had used in the Great War. Indeed Allan remembered the issuing of these rifles, still covered in factory grease, but with date stamps showing them to be older than some of the men who received them. Many of these men had never previously fired a weapon. They took a ‘musketry course’, involving firing practice at various ranges, but had limited shooting practice before embarking. Gordon joined in here, and although he enjoyed himself, ‘proved to be a very poor shot’. When at one point bullets cracked around him, headed for multiple targets, he wondered ‘what an experience it would be to charge into such a barrage of fire only on a much larger scale’. Such thoughts must have been common, and most would find out soon enough. Allan cottoned on to the value of cleaning his rifle, and his boots, the night before an inspection so as to ‘keep yourself level, if not slightly ahead of your obligations to the army’. There was a bayonet assault course, teaching trainees to use a weapon that was largely obsolete in twentieth-century warfare but for which Australians had won a fearsome reputation in the previous war.¹⁸

Training was largely by means of the ‘bullring’ system, in which platoons or sections spent fifty minutes on an activity such as individual weapons training, physical fitness, anti-gas precautions and camouflage. As well as passing through this human ‘production line’, as Allan termed it, the recruits listened to lectures, did fatigues and performed guard duty. One topic at lectures was saluting, and Allan spoke for many Australian soldiers in saying ‘many of us never really felt comfortable doing this’. They were told the salute was a sign of respect, but he considered ‘acknowledgement’ a more appropriate word. He thought, however, that, as leaders, officers ‘received the benefit of the doubt’ from the men.¹⁹

Another lecture topic was venereal disease. ‘Those of us still young enough to be less than fully informed of the facts of life’, Allan recalled, ‘listened carefully, kept any interest from showing on our faces, and deliberately fixed our gaze on a spot behind the lecturing MO [medical officer] to indicate that we personally would never need his advice.’ Training was largely a numbers game, with saluting, drill, about turning and digging all done by numbers. Before going on leave, Allan complained, ‘We are inspected and humbugged something horrible.’ Nevertheless he thrived physically at the camp, putting on weight.²⁰

Unless they could take their laundry home on leave, men had to come to grips with washing clothes at Woodside, although it would be worse on operations. They trained in ‘giggle suits’, so-called perhaps because they looked so comical or because they were reminiscent of the clothing of asylum inmates. They comprised ill-fitting trousers and jackets, and floppy hats.²¹

Many fell ill. Anyone suspected of malingering was given short shrift at sick parade, but at one point, a quarter of the unit was laid low, some after adverse reactions to vaccinations but more often from what Allan called a ‘strange disorder’ involving much coughing and abdominal pain. The Regimental Medical Officer, Captain Rice, knew it as URTI (upper respiratory tract infection), the men as ‘Woodside throat’ or ‘dog’s disease’. The epidemic passed. The need to make a last will and testament brought home the more serious threat to health that their new lives entailed.²²

Don Company’s original company commander was Major Reg Batten, formerly a militia officer. Allan considered him ‘most able’, although he was brusque and uninterested in winning the men over. His nickname was ‘Old Itchy ____’, but by the time he departed to become second in command of the 2/48th Battalion, in which capacity he would be killed three years later, he was respected for his ability and liked for his sense of justice and kindness. On one occasion a silent Batten, angered by the late return of Broken Hill men from leave, led the company on a two-hour route march in pouring rain. It showed the men not only their commander’s disapproval but also his willingness to share the punishment. Indeed, as Allan noted, route marches with officers at the head of a group marching in step helped to create unity of purpose. When Batten was seconded to another battalion in October, his replacement was his former second in command, Captain Mervyn Jeanes. Allan knew Jeanes from the militia 43rd Battalion, where Jeanes had done thirteen years service. The men called him ‘Merv’, and even to his face he might be ‘Merv Sir’. He was not a great talker, but Allan felt he ‘fitted the Company like a glove, trained it, led it, was most anxious that it should not be ill-used, and devoted himself to it, receiving in turn the full measure of loyalty thus engendered’.²³

A telling incident occurred at a battalion parade in early October, when two drums and a battle flag from the first 43rd Battalion AIF were presented to the unit. At the conclusion the unit marched past the CO, and the leading company were given the order ‘Eyes right’ as they passed the dais and its many notable occupants. The order should have been ‘Eyes left’, which the platoons realised and did, thus demonstrating a promising degree of common sense when leaders made errors.²⁴

That month the unit was transferred from the 8th to the 9th Division. Many battalions involved took this as a demotion and an insult, but it seems to have been better accepted in the 2/43rd, which had feared that the 8th Division would remain in Australia for home defence. This transfer saved the 2/43rd from the terrible fate that befell the 8th in Malaya, Singapore and other islands in the path of Japan’s initial onslaught.²⁵

Gordon was sent for individual specialist training to Seymour, Victoria, for three weeks in October and November. This Intelligence course, one of many that officers and men attended in this period, was intensive but rewarding, and facilities were good. On one night exercise, Gordon and ‘a syndicate of five’ were driven several miles into the country and dumped with orders to find their way back in the dark. In a letter to Margaret, Gordon declared it ‘good fun’, adding: ‘no job for the fairer sex as talking was prohibited!’²⁶

At Woodside, units moved into platoon and company training, in attack and defence. Eighteen Platoon, under Lieutenant John Burton, ‘observed, patrolled, attacked and captured; then held and defended positions’ in the area of an abandoned gold mine. One section had a Lewis machine gun of the First World War era, the other two wooden facsimiles of a machine gun. Australia’s equipment was based on British designs, although much of it was made locally. The standard British light machine gun of the time was the Bren gun, which would come to the battalion eventually and which would feature in its most famous achievement, in Borneo. Before departing Australia, Allan saw only one Bren. Its rarity reflected a shortage of equipment of all kinds throughout the AIF. They had no real grenades, and had thrown only dummy ones before going overseas. In Australia, Allan did not see a 2-inch mortar, the weapon on which he would become expert in the Western Desert. Training was occasionally interrupted so that men could line up at the quartermaster’s store to receive new items, but some items never appeared and lack of equipment would be a longstanding problem. By war’s end, the situation had improved, but that was five years away. When they went out on one memorable three-day exercise, the company had still not been issued water bottles. One evening, Allan’s section benefited from the initiative of one of their number, Alf Joy, to visit some friends in nearby Mount Torrens, and forage a flagon of beer that offered some late night refreshment. The rest of the exercise was hard work, as Allan told his parents in a letter: ‘We struck very hot weather and the going was very tough. We moved across country all of the time and covered about twenty-odd miles on both days. On Tuesday we covered the last eleven miles – all over very rough, rocky hills – in three hours.’

Three dogs that followed them all the way spent the next day lying down and panting ‘as though they were nearly dead’. Gordon did a similar three-day stint with Headquarters Company. He ‘enjoyed every minute of it’, as did the troops, who were ‘in good fettle’. Allan told his parents that Captain Jeanes was ‘as pleased and proud as a hen with gold plated eggs’. Jeanes later recounted that as the exhausted, thirsty but satisfied men of Don Company gathered at Woodside’s new wet canteen on returning from this challenging bivouac, he felt confident he could lead them in any future task. Lieutenant-Colonel Crellin assured Jeanes that Don Company ‘would be in our element in desert warfare’.²⁷

Johnny reflected that to the everlasting credit of Batten, Jeanes and the other officers and non-commissioned officers (NCOs) of the unit, there was a new spirit among the men of the 2/43rd Battalion. These leaders had moulded and melded the diverse personalities of more than eight hundred men, ‘imbued them with pride in themselves, respect one for the other, and so