"Good luck to her" - Anonymous poem about female war doctors - 1915

 

As ANZAC day passes I like to make a post about ANZAC day matters. Usually it is an attempt to let a voice from the time speak.

My post for this year is a poem, it picks up some themes from other years

Letters from the front - see the Maheno letters (2020)

Poetry - see Because of thee Gallipoli (2025), Gapa Tepe (2023)

Female doctors in war - see The Angels of the Balkans (2022)

The cartoon above is somewhat unrelated but it interrupted the article in the paper so I have included it here. It is hard to promote a post if you don't have a graphic.

While we may observe that attitudes toward accepting care from female doctors may not be the issue it was when the Angels of the Balkans did there good work, or the French lampooned our soldiers for recieving care from women, there is still a significant gender gap in pay for female doctors, as can be seen from this 2025 RACGP article. There is still work to do to achieve equality.

PS - Last line courtesy of the Armidale Chronicle, together with the pen name of the poet 'Woomera'. "Woomera in the Australasian" proves to be a prodigious poet.

---

"GOOD LUCK TO HER." 

There is an old story -- recalled, strangely enough, by a letter from the front -- about a beggar who called at a consulting-room in Collins-street, and asked whether the doctor had an old pair of trousers to spare, and of the angry attendant who said: "You know very well that it's a lady doctor practises here!" 

A Victorian on service in France explains that the men from the big Buffon Hospital in Paris were chaffing the inmates of the Australian hospital about their women doctor. "Yes," said one of the patients, "we have a woman doctor, and you take it from me, mate, she's worth any two of your doctors in trousers !" Good for the doctor, and bully for the patient: 

The day is gone, quite out of date,

When either fools or wowsers

Might measure science by its garb

Of petticoats or trousers.

Embroidered or tuck-pointed.

Do trousers help to lighten.

Your troubles when they've laid you out,

Or frills or fixin's frighten?

It's not the man or maid or dame

On whom you put reliance;

It's not the sex that really counts,

But just the sex's science.

If meds. are sudden, probes are scare,

And urgent is your trouble,

A hairpin may accomplish much

Where corkscrews only wobble.

If she's the surgeon, you the case,

You'll know, when once you've met her,

Her cuts are just as keen as his,

Her stitching's rather better.

When stinging bullets wing you down

Or shrapnel in its scatter,

Do bifurcated clothes console,

Or frocks or flounces matter? 

 

Each has its compensating points

In zeal and skill and daring,

Good luck to Dr. What's-her-name. 

Whatever kind she's wearing.

 

Woomera in the Australasian

 

 

Source: "GOOD LUCK TO HER." (1915, December 11). The Globe and Sunday Times War Pictorial (Sydney, NSW : 1914 - 1917), p. 2. Retrieved May 2, 2026, from http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article100567258

Trousers and Sofenoo. (1916, July 29). The Armidale Chronicle (NSW : 1894 - 1929), p. 7. Retrieved May 2, 2026, from http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article187711693 

Because of thee, Gallipoli - poem by Ethel L. Newcombe - 1915

ANZAC BEACH, GALLIPOLI. 1915. PHOTOGRAPH SHOWING TROOPS AND STORES ON THE BEACH WITH BOATS IN THE BACKGROUND AND SOME MEN BATHING.
Source: Australian War Memorial.

There is something of a tradition in posting something ANZAC related on this blog during the ANZAC period. This year I am publishing a poem which found its way into a significant number of newspapers in 1915 (see list after the poem).  

Ethel L. Newcombe contributed a number of other poems to newspapers over the years. I have also listed these after the poem, of the 35 articles that the search term "Ethel L. Newcombe" yields on Trove, all of them are related to poetry, either publishing a work or referencing collections of poetry that include her verse. 13 of them reprint the work presented here. There is nothing biographical on Trove with the name she used for her poetry. Ethel released a book in 1941 entitled 'A Southern voice verses by Ethel L Newcombe', followed by "Songs of Australian Trees" in 1945, from which the poem "White Gum" is taken (links take you to a digitised copy of the books at the State Library of Victoria.  The Herald quotes Dr. F. W. Boreham with regard to Songs of Australian Trees "[she] has set to music feelings that, at some time or other, have surged through our hearts." As a person who has attempted a couple of poems about trees, I like how Boreham appreciated her work.

The poem consists of four verses, each of 12 lines with and AABB structure. The opening words of each verse being the emphasised "Gallipoli, Gallipoli" and the final line, always ending with "Gallipoli" ... the repetition speaks of sacredness. For at least the first three verses, the closing couplet uses the word 'alone'. It is a grief signal, men who have died in places where their bodies are far from family. The youth of these men is hinted at with the 'beardless lip', 'the radiant face', 'the stalwart arm'. They die in Gallipoli, and in the process the land becomes the mother to them, holding them as a mother would. This is an early sign of the sacredness with which Australia reveres this Turkish soil.

Pay attention to the timeline. The key moment in the Gallipoli campaign is the landing of the allied forces on 25 April 1915, and the order to extract the forces is not enacted until December of that year. But here is Ethel L. Newcombe chronicling the narrative we know today - sons who participate in a  noble quest, being made men in a land made sacred because of their sacrifice - as early as October of 1915.

Her poem is almost a prefiguring for the words attributed to Ataturk, the Ottoman commander at the Dardanelles during the Gallipoli campaign, from 1934. 

When You, the mothers, who sent their sons from far away countries, wipe away your tears. Your sons are now lying in our bosom and are in peace. After having lost their lives on this land they have become our sons as well.”

BECAUSE OF THEE, GALLIPOLI

Gallipoli, Gallipoli!
I dare not take mine eyes from thee;
Thou hold'st the darling of my race,
The beardless lip, the radiant face,
The stalwart arm, no swift to do,
The eyes and heart, that follow, too.
There—lay them, mother, deep to rest,
Yes, rock them to thy heaving breast,
No mothers' arms, with soft caress;
No mothers' lips are near to bless;
    Alone they lie, beside the sea,
    Because of thee, Gallipoli!

Gallipoli, Gallipoli!
How can we show our love to thee?
Who took us from our baby's place,
And made a king—a new-old race,
Content to live and love and fight.
For God and duty, home and right;
We drop them, mother, at thy feet,
This wreath of manhood, crushed but sweet;
The mothers' prayers blow round to bless,
The lovers waft a mute caress,
    Alone—but happy let them be
    Within thine arms, Gallipoli.

Gallipoli, Gallipoli!
It means that Christ will come to thee
And walk upon thy waters blue.
To raise a Cross, where crescent flew,
That He will sit with Greek and Turk,
When these, who sleep, have done their work.
Accept them, mother, let them lie;
The Christ, Himself, could choose to die—
The mothers all will pause and bless
The Angels stoop, in deep caress,
    With God and glory, let them be,
    Alone with thee, Gallipoli!

Gallipoli, Gallipoli!
How can we keep our best from thee?
These sleeping sons, whose smiles of light,
Beckon each brother to the fight,
These mothers, pouring heart-blood free,
Have lost—and won—for you and me.
Strange mother of our wondrous dead;
Cast forth thy halo, o'er each head;
That women all will rise and bless,
And say, "We cannot give thee less."
    Triumphant shall Australia be,
    Because of thee, Gallipoli!

—Ethel L. Newcombe.

List of Newspapers in which this poem was published.

Link will take you to the Trove record in the appropriate newspaper.

Port Fairy Gazette (18 October 1915) ... http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article94720936 

Malvern News (6 November 1915) ... http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article154358203

The Ballan Times (11 November 1915) ... http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article119549731

Snowy River Mail (12 November 1915) ... http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article89264551

The Lilydale Express (12 November 1915) ... http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article74596263

Ringwood and Croydon Chronicle  (12 November 1915) http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article92086118

Mortlake Dispatch  (13 November 1915) ... http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article130001103

Colac Reformer (13 November 1915) ... http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article154236372

Cressy and Lismore Pioneer and Western Plains Representative  (17 November 1915) ... http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article132677918

The Yackandandah Times (18 November 1915) ... http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article144936428

Omeo Standard and Mining Gazette  (23 November 1915) ... http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article130131210

Maryborough and Dunolly Advertiser (24 November 1915) ... http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article93796543

Clunes Guardian and Gazette (4 January 1916) ... http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article119484027

Other poems by the author

Below is a list of more poems by the same author that appear in newspapers. I suspect some were written prior to the newspaper publication, as the later mentions have a sense of someone bringing forward a well loved poem for consideration by others. 

The Doctor (1911)

Because of Thee, Gallipoli (1915)

Memory (1929)

The Baby (1929)

Springs Venite (1936)

The Old and the New (1938)

Pansy Face (1938)

Peace (1938)

Daffodils (1941)

A seasonal Message (1943)

White Ships of Fancy (1945)

A Rainy Day (1945)

The White Gum (1945)

Gaba Tepe - poem by Lewis F. East (1915)

Gaba Tepe and Anzac Cove with lone soldier.
Pencil sketch by William Kieth Eltham
https://www.awm.gov.au/collection/C169909?image=1

On the 4th on October 1915, The Argus published the following poem 162 days after the landing it describes. The text is heroic in tone and has the feel of a poem written from afar. Gaba Tepe (or Kabatepe) is a headland overlooking the Anzac Cove at Gallipoli.

GABA TEPE

Silent and dim in the murky dawn the ghost transports lay
Shepherded close by warships grim, at anchor in Anzac Bay,
Silently boats steal out, shoreward they swiftly fly,
Straight for the beach, where the berthing heights loom darkly against the sky,
Now the sleeping foe awakes, the shrapnel screams o'erhead,
And the boats as they touch the strand are met with a hail of lead
"Forward Australians!" With answering cheer bronzed warriors leap ashore,
Racing for death-grips, steel to steel, as their grandsires fought of yore.

Torrent-like, onward they charge, faster and faster still;
For the trench-torn slope where the rifle fire crashes across the hill,
Midst the cry and the gasp and the groan, as comrades join the dead,
And the crash and the scream of the bursting shell, ever they press ahead
Onward, and on, and up, and they whirl through the thick of the fight,
On through the trenches, with ringing cheer, and thrusting to left and right,
On to the crest, and the bayonets flash, the shattered foe rallies no more,
A new and a glorious page is writ in the book of the nations' war

Knowing not fear of death, ever they charged in the van
Soldiers and brothers and heroes all, colonel and captain and man,
For the testing time was on them, and they felt that the world looked on,
Knowing their deeds, for glory or shame, would live when themselves were gone
So they fought for her honour who gave them birth, holding their lives as cheap,
Smiling at hunger and death and pain, sowing that she might reap,
Fighting from sea to sea, with the graves upon either hand,
Fighting for Freedom and Righteousness, and the fame of their own dear land

The nations salute us now, God's champion of right against wrong,
Looking at us with respect, as men at a man who is strong
For our sons have been tested by fire. Right well have they answered the test,
Brothers in arms with the world's best men, and holding their own with the best
Crowned with their glorious deeds, wrought out where their life blood flowed,
Straighten the back with pride of them, our lads who have carried the load
Hail to them, heroes all! for they have been men among men
Here's to them, lads, with a three times three! And a tiger! Again! And again!

LEWIS F. EAST.

Notes:

This poem, consisting of four eight-line verses built of rhyming couplets, was published in at least three newspapers, all in 1915 (see the sources 1- 3 below). I have been unable to find any other poetry by the poet.

If the names match correctly, Lewis F. East was a clerk in the public service, having passed his 'ordinary clerical' entrance exam in 1888 [4]. He rose in the public service to become Chief Clerk of the Customs Department before becoming the Acting Director of Maritime Navigation [5]. He continued in federal leadership of maritime matters until his retirement. I could not find any evidence of military service on the Australian War Memorial database.

Sources:

[1] GABA TEPE. (1915, October 4). The Argus (Melbourne, Vic. : 1848 - 1957), p. 7. Retrieved April 25, 2023, from http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article1567364 

[2] Poetry. (1915, October 16). Western Star and Roma Advertiser (Qld. : 1875 - 1948), p. 5. Retrieved April 25, 2023, from http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article98166660

[3] Poets' Corner. (1915, November 2). Cootamundra Herald (NSW : 1877 - 1954), p. 4. Retrieved April 25, 2023, from http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article139531115

[4] PUBLIC SERVICE EXAMINATIONS. (1888, March 2). The Argus (Melbourne, Vic. : 1848 - 1957), p. 5. Retrieved April 25, 2023, from http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article6106832

[5] DIRECTOR OF NAVIGATION (1919, May 6). The Herald (Melbourne, Vic. : 1861 - 1954), p. 10. Retrieved April 25, 2023, from http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article243472953

Karara welcomes home some ANZACs

WWI Honour Plaque, Karara Hall

In February 1920 a train rolled into Karara Station, bringing home three men (who the Warwick Daily News in the idiom of the day called boys). Men who had seen action in WWI. The plaque commemorating the service of Karara's men (see above) lists the years of the war as 1914-1919, this was later revised down to 1914-1918 when a marble honour board was made to commemorate both world wars.  Even so, this little episode in the paper of the day shows that even once the war was over the return home was not immediate and the capacity to work was reduced.  A fact easily glossed over in the papers words "and all bear the honorable wounds which were the lot of many an Australian boy."

I have the honour of teaching history at the Karara State School. The history of Karara may become another theme in my blog, as the school seeks to populate a timeline which seeks to tell the story of the village.

February 14.

On Friday night the residents of the Karara district assembled in the goods shed at Karara to bid welcome home to three of their boys, the last of whom only just arrived from the seat of war. The boys were Corporal Thomas R. Lee, Corporal Percy Wickham, and Private E. P. Bonner. All three boys saw long service in Egypt and France, and all bear the honorable wounds which were the lot of many an Australian boy. To show their appreciation of the good work done on the battlefields, the Karara friends, presented each soldier with a beautiful gold watch and chain with suitable inscription.

Mr. M. Cleary occupied the chair, and Councillor J. E. Smith made the presentation. Both spoke in eulogistic terms of the good work done by all the Karara boys, numbering in all over a dozen. The lads thanked their friends for their presentation and kind things said about them.

Mr. Cleary also presented Mrs. Lee with a beautiful diamond brooch on behalf of her friends. Mr. Lee responded on behalf of his wife.

At the same gathering Mr. Cleary, on behalf of his friends, presented Mr. R. S. Meiklejohn with a gold locket in-scribed in recognition of his good work in connection with the soldiers of the district. Mr. Meiklejohn, who was taken by surprise, thanked, his friends, and said all he had done was only a pleasure.

The dance was kept going until the wee small hours of the morning. Miss Allan and Mr. Bruce Forbes supplied music (piano), and Mr. C. Moore made a very efficient M.C. Mrs. Forbes kindly lent her piano for the occasion.

Source:  

COUNTRY NEWS (1920, February 17). Warwick Daily News (Qld. : 1919 -1954), p. 6. Retrieved June 18, 2020, from http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article175780856 

The Hospital Ship Maheno and influenza quarantine - 1919

Empty beds on the hospital ship `Maheno'. Photograph taken by John Dickie during World War I. https://natlib.govt.nz/records/23179980

As I write this blog the world is in various states of quarantine for Covid-19.  Today's media audiences are wanting political leadership in the face of the disease and simultaneously expressing scepticism about the motives of that leadership.

In 1919 the world faced another pandemic, and the Hospital Ship Maheno was caught up in it.  Soldiers who had faced the rigours of WWI now faced the risk of a dangerous strain of influenza.

As I tidied the attached text on Trove, I was aware that I may have passed over this a few months ago, and yet in our own pandemic it seems strangely prescient.

The following appeared in the Albany Advertiser of Wednesday 15 January 1919

MUCH has to be accepted without question in the matter of quarantine. That is admitted. The medical advisers of the Government define what is necessary in the public interest, and the professional officers of the department see that the regulations imposed are carried out. It is not for individuals to reason why, but to submit to the restrictions placed on them with a ready acquiescence and manifest a desire to co-operate with the authorities in every possible way. This also is admitted. But when the necessity arises to make quarantine so general on the coast as it is at the present time, it is surely only due to the intelligence of the people that less mystery should be made, and more consistency should be dis-played by those in charge of the arrangements. Above all, it is essential to the peace of mind of the community that no cause should be given for suspicion of political juggling in the conduct of the business. Albany, as an important port on one of the main ocean trade routes of the world, is equipped with accommodation for quarantine purposes on an extended scale, and is consequently very much interested in what is going on, and the towns-people behind the port are entitled to just as much consideration in the circumstances as those behind Fremantle, Melbourne and Sydney. The fact that they are fewer in numbers does not warrant discrimination against them. That, is where the distrust of political influence comes in. And if there are misgivings locally on this score the authorities are entirely to blame for them. Experience with the unfortunate transport Boonah started this distrust. The Boonah returned to Fremantle with pneumonic influenza on board, and anchored in the open roadstead to land her patients and local contacts at Woodman's Point. She wanted coal to take her on to the Eastern States, but excitement rose to fever heat ashore as to the danger she was to the good people of Fremantle, and no effort was made to take her in the harbour for it. A period of indecision on the part of the authorities followed, and when finally the Returned Soldiers' Association took a hand in the interest of the men remaining on board, the steamer weighed anchor and ran for Albany. Here, without hesitation, she entered the harbour, and overtures were made for shore labor to supply her bunkers. It is obvious that but for the row in Perth and Fremantle the Boonah would have entered the harbour there and sought to coal. That she did not do so, and did here what public opinion prevented elsewhere established for all time the fact that the authorities are willing; to treat this port in a way they do not dare treat a port with a bigger vote behind it. The lumpers at Albany saved the situation by refusing to coal the Boonah unless fully secured against possible contingencies, and the boat coaled herself. The next doubtful visitor was the New Zealand hospital ship Maheno, which, although apparently a clean ship, arrived from the Dominion before the quarantine period had expired. Nevertheless, shore labor was asked to deliver the coal on board, while the trimming was done from within. As in the case of the Boonah, this was said to be a perfectly safe process, but the men declined to proceed because of the inconsistency manifested by the authorities in their changing attitude. Complications similar in character have arisen over the steamers War Armour and Malta, both of which are still in harbour in strict quarantine. Now, in the case of these vessels, there is no certainty that perfect isolation has been secured, and if that is so, why is discrimination of the kind shown? In the first place there are not enough medical men in the town to cope with the work and offer absolute security to the town. The authorities in this regard are displaying especial carelessness, for the least the community can expect is that the very few private medical practitioners in its midst shall be disassociated for the time being with quarantine work. It is all very well for a Government department to say that every precaution is being taken, when merely casual observation proves the contrary, and it is small wonder that public confidence is failing. This, of course, applies to vessels known to be infected. There is no danger in their case of shore labor being implicated. But there is another kind of ship to be considered, and that is the ship apparently clean, but open to suspicion because she is not sufficiently long out from an infected port to be absolutely safe. What is wanted, in such cases, is a better understanding with shore labor, so that the men's services may bc secured and the men's interests protected. The community, as well as the men, would be glad to see an intelligent agreement reached. Much time would be saved if a quarantine battalion of workers were formed, under reasonable guarantee, on a voluntary basis. Such a step has everything to re-commend it, and it is surprising the authorities have not seen fit to so organise the labor of the port. During the nest few weeks many ships within the time limit may be expected, and some such plan is essential to the safe conduct of the business of the port. In any case the people of Albany have no great reason to be satisfied with the measures taken for their protection.

Moored to a sea mine

A WWI German sea mine being launched from the back of a ship.
http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article166255579

Another story associated with the travels of the New Zealand Hospital Ship Maheno. As relayed in the Sydney Morning Herald Friday 12 September 1919.

MOORED TO A MINE.
TWO MEN IN A BOAT.
EXPERIENCE IN THE ENGLISH CHANNEL. 

Captain Cain, of the Union Steamship Company's new steamer Waitemata, which arrived from Calcutta, via ports, a few days ago, has had the thrilling experience of being "moored to a German mine." 

It occurred during the war, and the act was voluntary on the captain's part. 

"An officer, who was an eye-witness of the exploit, related the facts in Sydney yesterday; but Captain Cain himself, apart from admitting that "such an incident" took place, preferred to say little or nothing regarding it.  

During the war Captain Cain had charge of a patrol vessel in the Mediterranean, and eventually left his vessel in Egypt. His work being completed, he desired to return to England. He bad not been demobilised, and the Government would have arranged for his passage home, but, as the Union Company's steamer Maheno was then in port, be decided to try to return to England in her. 

He interviewed Captain Neville, of the Maheno, and as the latter was short of officers it was agreed that Captain Cain, and a fellow-officer who had been on active service with him, should be engaged for the run to England. 

Everything went well until the Maheno approached the entrance to the English Channel, when a floating mine was sighted. Captain Neville had nothing with which to explode the mine, and was unable immediately to get into wireless communication with the naval authorities. As the mine was right in the track of shipping, it constituted a serious danger. Even if the Maheno left it until her arrival in port the chances that some vessel I would strike the mine before it could be again located and destroyed were by no means small. 

Captain Cain accordingly came forward, and asked for the loan of one of the ship's boats, a length of rope, and some flare lights. These were granted, and Captain Cain and his friend left the steamer in the boat and pulled over to the mine. After making fast to the mine and paying out a fair length of rope, the two officers sat down to await the arrival of assistance. 

The Maheno left the men in the boat moored to the mine, and proceeded on her way to Southampton, where she reported the incident to the naval authorities. The exact locality of the mine was given, and a "P" boat was despatched at full speed to the scene. 

For between seven and eight hours Captain Cain and his friend remained with their boat bobbing about on the surface of the sea, and still tied to the instrument of destruction. Several steamers were sighted, but no signals were made to any of them, as it was feared that they might not he able to avoid the mine if they were induced to approach the boat. 

As It grew dark the flare lights were got ready in case of the approach of a steamer, but some time after darkness had closed in a searchlight commenced swooping the water in the vicinity of the boat. This was from the "P" boat which had been sent out at the request of Captain Neville. 

Before long the "P" boat arrived, picked up the two men, and, after exploding the mine, was soon racing back to port with Captain Cain and his friend on board.

Letters from the hospital ship 'Maheno', No 6.

Detail of the Maheno show the doors in the side.
The utility of these doors is often mentioned in articles about the ship.
https://nzhistory.govt.nz/media/photo/discharging-patients-alexandria

A small series, of unknown length, highlighting letters from the hospital ship, 'Maheno'.

Part of my ANZAC Commemoration in the year 2020.

Assumed Identity

Name: Eric Edward McGrath
Service No: 2518
Enlisted: 13 Dec 1816
Unit: 44th Australian Infantry Battalion
Source: Australian War Memorial

Letter as it appears in the Delegate Argus (NSW : 1906 - 1943), Thursday 7 December 1916, page 2

"Fritz Got Me at Last" 

A report got around some time ago that Private E. McGrath, one time teacher at Woodglen School, had gone under at the front. Such is not the case. He has been wounded, but last word to local friends said he was doing well. Those who know 'Mac' will read the following letter, which comes from him, with interest:— 

"Fritz has got me at last. I have had a long run and many a good mate has been knocked over alongside me, and there are not too many left of the crowd who crossed with me on the "Medic." We were taken out of the line we were holding near Armentieres about the end of June and formed into a mobile division. That meant that we marched where other troops were carried in trains. Well, we marched from Armentieres to Albert, taking about three weeks, sleeping in ruined houses and straw stacks, and subsisting upon very scanty rations. Luckily I was in fine condition, and stood the march well. On arrival at Albert — which is in ruins — we left everything behind with our packs, not even taking a towel or soap— only ammunition and food. We took over the trenches in front of Pozieres from the British. They had made several attempts to take the place, but had failed. Their dead were lying all over the place. There were four of them built into the side of the trench where I was, with arms and legs sticking out, and the shell holes were full of them. When the smell got too high we had to get out at night and do the grave digging act. There were plenty of dead square heads around, too. I got a dose of some kind of gas going in, and was pretty sick. The worst want was water. It had to be carried a couple of miles, and each day a few of the carriers were killed by German shells, so we did not waste any of it in washing. After four days, during which we lost a good few men, we attacked at midnight on July 22nd. I was in an advance guard of 20 men to take part of the first line of trenches and dig them out in case our attacks were driven off. We sneaked out with fixed bayonets before midnight, and crept from shell-hole to shell-hole across "No-Man's Land." We laid down about half-way across, and suddenly 200 of our guns opened on the first line and rained shells on it for 20 minutes. Then they shift ed into the next line, and we went for the first. The German guns began to give us a warm reception. I got to the parapet, but a shell explosion upended me, and in getting up some shrapnel smashed my right foot. I shot one German swine though before I collapsed. When I came to I crawled into a shell-hole and dug in as far as I could and said my prayers. It was more like hell than anything you could imagine. Nothing to be seen but great clouds of smoke and the flash of shells, while the shrapnel simply rained down. I did not think it possible for anyone to live there, but our boys came through it in wave after wave, although they fell in hundreds. The wounded were shrieking and swearing, and those of us who could crawl were trying to tie up our wounds and those of our mates. About daylight it slackened, and I started to crawl back to our trenches. Of course I got lost and mixed up in the barbed wire, but after crawling a couple of miles I got into a trench, and was tied up by some stretcher bearers, who gave me a shovel as a crutch and started me back. I got a good way before I went under, and then an engineer officer carried me on his back to a dressing station. From there I went by stretcher, ambulance and train to Le Treporte, on the coast of Normandy. I put in nearly a fortnight here, and was operated on, and had the shrapnel cut out of my foot. They had designs on the foot, but I bluffed them off. Then to Havre, and across to Southampton on the N.Z. hospital ship Maheno. I first went to Fawcett Road Hospital, Southsea, for a week, and then out here. Had another operation the day before yesterday, and have another incision as a result. The nurses and doctors are very kind, but I am feeling only middling. I can't eat since the gas. We have concerts twice a week, and anyone who can go out, especially the Australians, have a good time. Southsea is a part of Portsmouth, and is a great holiday resort."

Letters from the hospital ship 'Maheno', No 5.

Detail from a 1916 greeting card.
https://www.aucklandmuseum.com/collection/object/am_library-ephemera-16927

A small series, of unknown length, highlighting letters from the hospital ship, 'Maheno'.

Part of my ANZAC Commemoration in the year 2020.

Assumed identity of the author:-
Name: Harold Griffith
Service Number: 1544
Enlisted: 9 Apr 1915
Unit: 17th Australian Infantry Battalion
Fate: Returned to Australia, 17 Mar 1916
Source: Australian War Memorial

Molong Express and Western District Advertiser (NSW : 1887 - 1954), Saturday 6 November 1915, page 8

"Head Down and Pecker Up." 

Mr. and Mrs. G. W. Griffith, of Manildra, have received letters from their son Harold, written from the trenches, at sea, and the Gibralta Military Hospital, on August 25, Sept. 9, and Sept. 20 respectively. Writing from the front on the back of a programme of a concert held on board the transport he travelled on from Australia, the soldier says : 

"At last we are in the trenches. We journeyed to Lemnos in a big boat, stopped at Lemnos for a day, and then transhipped into two little boats. It took us only a few hours to get off the coast of Gallipoli. We were to land at night, so we understood, and we could hear the machine guns and rifles popping a treat. As we thought we would be landing under fire, we did not feel too brisk over the matter. It certainly sent a creepy feeling up our spinal cords. We, however, did not get off until just daylight. We landed on a pier and moved up to our position. My word, I can tell you we were glad that we didn't have to land under fire. When one sees the hills, and thinks that it is up these that our men had to scramble with the Turks well entrenched and firing on them, it appears marvellous that they ever got there. I can tell you we were pleased that we could land in peace. One of the shells struck the boat we came from Lemnos in, but didn't do any damage. In the afternoon we had a surf, and the fact that Deadly Bill from Achi Bahi can land, and some times does land shells there, made it all the more enjoyable. Any how it was great. That night we shifted off from "Rest Gully," as it is called. We marched off as light as possible, and expected to be into the midst of it before morning. We got to a certain place, however, in some gully, and there we stretched out to sleep. Spent bullets were coming over all night, and one landed just about three feet in front of me, in a bush. A couple of our fellows got hit, one rather badly. It didn't disturb our sleep though.
It is marvellous how one becomes so used to things and takes no notice. We stopped there till mid-day, and then moved off again. After a pretty stiff march of a couple of hours, we came to Australia Gully. The only trouble in Australia Gully was that we were very short of water, and had to cut our supplies down very considerably. It was rather funny. We were pretty thirsty, but we're talking about the war. One man said that in a couple of months we would have to leave the Peninsula, as it rained so much that all the gullies were running full. At once a fellow said: 'My word, won't we have a drink then. Rather funny as at the time we were not thinking of water. 

We spent our first Sunday very quietly. Spent bullets were land-ing every little while, and there were plenty of escapes. One fellow got a bullet through his trousers, and another had one lob right along side his head. We have been here two days now and no one in our company has been hit yet. The first night I was on a bit of outpost duty but nothing happened. Yesterday and last night I was in the trenches. As long as one keeps his head down and his pecker up, things are al-right. At night you can watch over the parapet with hardly any danger, but not too long. 

The Turks here are very short of big guns, and we have had hardly any shells pelting round. The only trouble really is the machine guns. Shrapnel is not feared nearly so much as one would expect. It is marvellous how close a shell can burst, and not harm anyone. 

We have to cook our own meals, and make ourselves generally useful in that way. Our tucker is pretty good, and there is plenty of it. We have also plenty of water now. 

Harold Menzies is back in the trenches again. He came round to see us the day we landed, but I missed him. Charley saw him, and says he had some pretty close escapes. Charley and I are separated now. Being in different companies, we were sent to differ-ent places. When I saw him last he was O.K. 

Writing at sea on September 5, Pte. Griffith says :- Well, here I am, or as much as is left of me, on board a ship hopping away for England. It has happened — the first engagement, too, and that not a serious one. I got hit in the left hand with an explosive bullet from a machine gun, and it has left rather a bad gash, starting from about an inch back and between the last knuckle of the thumb and forefinger. It has opened up nearly the whole of the back of the hand to the wrist, where some of the fragments of the bullet appear to have gone, straight down on to the side of that little knob of bone on the wrist. Here it has cut the bone about a bit, which is the worst feature. The sinews of the first and second fingers are also knocked about a bit. One piece of the bullet seems to have come out about three inches down the arm underneath, but there must be others still in, I think. It is pretty sore, although a little easier now. Last Wednesday the Doctor in charge of us here took me up to the head Doctor of the boat to see whether the hand would have to come off. It was a pretty pass for me, and I had to sit outside the surgery for over an hour waiting. However, when we got in he had a look at it and said, "Certainly not! In two or three months it will heal up after the bone has been fixed, and in about a year you will have a very fair hand. The wrist will be stiff, but three fingers and the thumb will be alright, though one finger — the first — may be stiff too. It will have to be massaged a lot." What do you think of that? All this time since April 12th used up, just to shoot about 300 shots at the Turkish trenches — for that was all we could see — and this hand given in! 

To tell how the wound was received is the next item. Our battalion was split up as reinforcements for some of the other older battalions. Our company were sent to a place where there were some very good trenches, well advanced. We did a couple of days in the trenches on duty, and were to have a couple out. On Friday though, at 11 o'clock, just as we were beginning to pre-pare our dinner, we got orders to get ready immediately to go into the trenches. There was to be an advance on our right and left and we were to give supporting fire. At 4 o'clock a bombardment star-ted. Our guns from all over the place opened up, from sea and land. They went till 5, when we were ordered to go at it with our rifles, and the others to charge. The guns kicked up a row, I can tell you; they landed 500 shells, shrapnel and lyddite, and they did great damage. We started firing away — bob up, take a quick sight, fire, and down again. We were just firing at their trenches, and I never saw any Turks about at all. This kept up, going strong, and our rifles ran hot and were smoking. Several times, just as I was firing, a bullet struck the parapet in from of me, throwing dust etc. into my face, but that was alright. At 6.20, though, they got me. I just came up to shoot, when bang! right on the wrist, it seemed. It swung me round, and down I went. It was just as lucky I did both things, for it must have been a machine gun, as a second bullet grazed my neck and the third went through the hat just above the band. Talk about close shaves! Of course, I didn't know anything about the last two until later, when they were dressing me, they noticed the mark, and sure enough there were the bullet holes through the tunic and the hat. Every time I look at the little mark on the neck, the more I wonder how the bullet missed. The mark is almost in the middle of the throat, and low down. The only explanation of its missing was that the first shot swung me round, therefore I was at an angle. The one through the hat, too, was within an inch of the napper. 

When I stood on the bottom of the trench, one of the fellows grabbed the arm, stopping the blood a bit — it was streaming. The ambulance men ran along with a couple of bandages, and tied it up. I was pretty weak at the knees. Reg. Nunn was close handy, and he poured some water down my neck. From the trenches a fellow helped me down to the dressing station. After a while, those of us who could walk got going to wards the beach. I was a bit better, although still groggy. A man with part of his nose blown off helped me for a while, and after wards I was alright. Talk about a walk, though. Through saps and down gullies, it was a treat. When we got down to the beach, things were better. Every while we would get a bit of tea, bovril, and biscuit. My, it was great, especially having had no dinner or tea. Here a doctor examined our wounds, put on mine a dressing soaked in iodine, and a splint, and bound her up. Then he injected a goodly dose of anti-tetanus stuff, and I started away for the boat. After a little wait we were put on two small boats and set off to the hospital ship, the Maheno. It was great. They gave us tea, bovril, and beautiful bread and butter. I was put to bed, and slept fairly well. Nurses and orderlies very attentive; do anything possible. The meals were nice — porridge, sago, bread and butter, beef tea, tea, &c. On Sunday we got a shock — Maheno received word to put us into an other boat, and proceed back for another load of wounded. Accordingly, we were put off just before dinner into this boat, a captured German, and used as a troop-ship. Oh, what a change! It almost broke one's heart. From beautiful beds with sheets, everything clean, to this. Dirty! — no name for it. Our beds were the mess tables, on which one was given a dirty kapok mattress, a filthy blanket, and a pillow; and the meals beyond description. Breakfast: Bread and rancid butter; dinner : mutton, potatoes in jackets and sometimes hard, peas or beans, and soup (at times only the water the meat was boiled in); Tea: Bread and this butter again; every second day a scraping of jam; now and again some rice. Oh, it is terrible, when one does not feel like eating, to have to sit down and force this down. We cannot all expect hospital ships, I suppose. If we hadn't seen the "Maheno," mayhap, it would not have been so bad. However, don t let us complain. 

My hand gave me jip. The first night here I did not have a wink of sleep, the second hardly any better, the third none, and so on until Friday, when it was a bit better, or maybe I have grown used to the pain. When we reach England the hand will be X-rayed, and the bone put alright. My beard started to grow, and I had over a week's growth on. One morning, feeling a bit fit, I borrowed a razor and fixed it. There are a couple of rather good fellows below. One, with a wound in the leg, looks after me A1. He cuts up all my meat, and does little jobs like that. I have about the worst wound on that deck, and so am somewhat of a mascot. 

In a letter written on Sept. 20 from Gibraltar, Pte. Griffith said he had been there a fortnight. The wound was healing, but he was not allowed to get out of bed. He and his fellow patients were receiving every attention, and the people of Gibraltar were very good to them visiting and giving them luxuries. They were also receiving gifts from the Red Cross, but he had not received a letter or paper from home for six weeks. 

Writing on August 16, he said he had received a first-class certificate as the result of a school of Instruction Examination, but so as to get back to the front immediately he had had himself transferred to the 17th Battalion as a private.

Letters from the hospital ship 'Maheno', No 4.

https://tiaki.natlib.govt.nz/#details=ecatalogue.122948

A small series, of unknown length, highlighting letters from the hospital ship, 'Maheno'.

Part of my ANZAC Commemoration in the year 2020.

Glossary
Mills Bombs are hand grenades.

Lang Lang Guardian (Vic. : 1914 - 1918), Saturday 2 February 1918, page 3

FROM THE FRONT.

The following interesting letter has been received from Private F. Bell, who was in hospital in England when writing: 

"I feel ashamed of myself for not writ ing before, but one had to beg for a sheet of paper and envelope, so I waited my chance and it came yesterday when the Australians came to Beaufort and provided us with nearly everything we needed; so if you happen to smell tobacco when reading this, it is from some of the gift cigarettes from Australia. I know you do not like the smell of tobacco, especially cigarettes, but I cannot buy a small pipe here and the tobacco is not good, so you see I have no option. When we are under heavy bombardment a smoke is the only thing that has been found to ease the nerves. There are plenty of chaps who never smoke unless a bombardment is on; it seems strange, but all the same it is a fact, and anyone from the front can tell you the same. Well, I have no doubt you have heard before this that I got hit in the battle of Pozieres. I will just try and give you an idea of what we did from the time we arrived there until I left. We arrived at Albert on the morning of 26th July, and the same evening we marched up to the reserve trenches. These were the trenches the Germans had been living in for the past 18 months. Some of them had dugouts down to a depth of 60 feet but the majority wore about 30 feet, and all had gas tight doors, electric lights, and a lot of them had the walls papered and even wardrobes in them. Women's clothing has also been found, so that shows they did not expect to be shifted from these underground mansions. In some cases there were as many as 10 to 50 of these rooms linked together by corridors. Well, we stopped in these dugouts until about 11 or 12 o'clock that night, and then made for the trenches on the outskirts of Pozieres. When we passed through it there was not a wall standing. I have never seen such a wrecked place in all my experience, and before we reached the trenches I did not wonder, for they put over such a barrage of fire that nearly blinded us. It was terrible, yet I believe we got in without a casualty, but before morning we had a few. I forgot to tell you I was carrying no less than 24 2lb Mill's bombs; so you can guess I was pretty tired when I reached the trenches. We had to stay there four days and nights and then be relieved. Before the fourth night we had lost about 100 men out of 300 odd. I was lucky enough to come out the first time, and we went back to the reserve trenches for four days, and during that time we had to do fatigue for the battalion that was in the front trenches. On the fourth day we received orders to go over the top and take the hill in front, also a line of trenches on the other side— that meant fatigue all that night and preparing assembly trenches about 150 yds from Fritz - not the sweetest job on earth for he took a tumble as to what was going on in front and he kept sending up flares and pumping in bullets with his machine guns—anyhow we finished it and got back to reserve just as day broke. We went to bed and slept till dinner time, and after dinner we were kept busy getting ready for the dirty work that had to be done that night. At half-past 4 o'clock on the afternoon of 4th August we started off for the trenches; each man had his pockets filled with bombs or flares or smoke bombs. The latter are a very deadly bomb. They are made of sulphur, and the fumes they give off would do for anyone in quick time. They are used for throwing into the big dugout into which 300 or 400 Fritzs may be hiding and they have to be pretty quick in deciding which they will do— suffocate, surrender, or fight for it (they never fight for it). We got a pretty rough passage trying to reach the trenches as a couple of German aeroplanes were hovering overhead and giving the signals that we were in the saps, the result was that we lost well on towards 100 men before reaching the trench. Just as we reached our assembly trench our artillery opened up with a terrific hail of fire—the most deadly bombardment I have witnessed. After it had played on their front line for about two minutes it lifted to their support trenches (this being our signal to advance) and we up over the parapet and made off towards Fritz. I was in the first wave, and our work was to get into his first line and clear it out, but as I got caught in the barb wire, I missed the first wave so I swept on with the second, passed the first line and on to the second line. All this time (which seemed like hours) we were under a hell of shrapnel and machine gun fire and the boys were falling in every direction. We reached the second trench and consolidated. Soon after we got there I saw a Fritz nicking away, so I after him and stuck him in the back, so that made up for the hit I received as soon as I got back to the trench, It was a shrapnel pellet that caught me; it caught two others as well. We were enfiladed to such an extent that it came right along the trench. My wound was not at all serious, just through the fleshy part of the arm midway between elbow and shoulder—it bled a bit; that was nothing. I stopped there 9 hours, and during that time Fritz made two counter attacks, but none of them ever reached our trenches, and very few of them ever reached theirs again. I left the trench about six the next morning and made for the dressing station about a mile back, and I saw some awful sights during that walk. Well, I went from station to station until I reached Blighty Junction and there entrained for Rouen, a distance of about 150 or 200 miles. I did not see much as I slept most of the time, being so tired out. We reached Rouen at 8 o'clock and I was taken to No. 3 General Hospital and stayed there a couple of days, and then entrained for Le Hore, a journey of about four hours. We were put on board the Maheno - a New Zealand hospital ship—but did not move off that day as we were waiting for another batch of wounded to come next morning. The treatment we received on board was excellent. We set off about midday and had a good trip across, although it was through a dense fog all the way. We reached Southampton about 7 p.m., but lay just outside the docks ready to go in at 8 o'clock next morning. There was a train waiting for us, and by 11 o'clock we were well on our way to Bristol. It was most delightful travelling. I think I told you about the lovely scenery in France, but the trip from Southhampton to Bristol excelled even that through the valley of the Rhone. I think Somerset must be England's Garden of Eden. Now we are here in hospital it is a bit quieter, though there are frequent outings to people's homes. Wills, the tobacco merchants, have their main places here, and I think they are the greatest charitable institution of the day. They supply all the hospitals with cigarettes and tobacco free, besides giving outings to about 200 wounded each week."

Letters from the hospital ship 'Maheno', No 3.

Detail from a concert program seeking to raise funds for the conversion of the Maheno to a hospital ship.

A small series, of unknown length, highlighting letters from the hospital ship, 'Maheno'.

Part of my ANZAC Commemoration in the year 2020.

In my previous two letters from the Maheno posts, I have managed to find a record in Australian War Memorial database that tell a little of the letters author.  It is often just a scrap of information.  I have not been able to locate anything on that database for Private H. B. James.

His name is listed in the NSW War Memorial at Muswellbrook, though

Though interestingly he did correspond with home and some at least of his letters made their way to the newspaper. I can locate four letters from him in the Muswellbrook Chronicle, of which this letter is the first.

If you are interested the other letters and notes appearing in the Muswellbrook Chronicle are listed below.

15 May 1915 - Pte. James takes up a collection for the Belgian Fund.
19 May 1915 - Pte. James presented with an automatic pistol, ammunition and field glasses.
7 Aug 1915 - Listed as being at the front or on the way.
6 Oct 1915 - Listed as being ill and in hospital in Malta.
10 Nov 1915 - Letter from Pte. James (see below).
27 Nov 1915 - Letter about recovering in a hospital in Cardiff, Wales.
8 Dec 1915 - Letter about recovering in hospital at Preteign, some anecdotes of Gallipoli.
19 Jul 1916 - Report on the fighting in France.



The following letter from the Muswellbrook Chronicle (NSW : 1898 - 1955), Wednesday 10 November 1915, page 2

Private H. James, writing to his parents from Floriana Hospital, Malta, under date 14/9/15, says :— 

On our arrival on the Peninsular after disembarking during night, with spent bullets whizzing and plunking into the water all around and the sounds of the bombing and rifles cracking coming from the hills, where they were at it hot and strong, we marched to a small ravine, where we rested for a day. We then had to take up our position in the trenches, and while we were getting there the enemy observing us opened fire with his shrapnel. But the beggars can't shoot, and although some of it burst uncomfortably near we got to our position, which we were ordered to hold on to to the last man. Things are generally fairly quiet during daytime, but the Turks keep up a terrible fire at night, just to keep back any possibility of a night attack. They must waste an enormous amount of ammunition. We held our trench for a week and were relieved; but we had to go over a clear space of about 50 yards. A number of us got half way across when we were spotted and they opened rifle fire on us; we were ordered to lay flat, and we stayed there with our noses buried in the ground. I think it was the most uncomfortable five minutes I ever experienced. We could do nothing, and all the while the bullets were chipping the twigs and throwing the dust up all around. At last we were ordered to regain our cover. You should have seen Phil Garlick sprint. I am pleased to say that we all regained cover without hurt, which was nothing short of miraculous. We got out shortly afterwards alright. We were taken down near the water and camped in a donga for a rest — not by any means a safe place, us a good many of our fellows were potted by the Turkish snipers as they walked about. We were brought here ostensibly for a rest ; but during the day we were on fatigue duty carrying food, etc., up to the firing line, and at night we went out digging new saps up to the latest trenches taken. We generally finished digging at 12 o'clock, when we wended our way home through a maze of saps to our dug outs in the donga (a dry water course) to enjoy a few hours sleep. The flies there are some-thing terrible, and it's a race sometimes be-tween them and you as to who shall have the food. All day long shells screech over head from our batteries and the warships out at sea, and my word they do send it into the Turks, I have seen about 15 or 20 Turks flying in the air as the result of a single shell. The warship gunners don't make many mistakes. After about three weeks of this exciting life I was un-fortunately taken ill with dysentry and I was pretty bad. The regimental doctor ordered me into the field hospital, where I lay for three days. The hospital was just under a little hill, not a safe place, as I saw several chaps knocked with shrapnel on the flat in front and a couple of chaps knocked over by snipers. It is only fair to say of the Turks that they are fighting fair. They accidentally dropped a shrapnel shell near the hospital and they apologised and have not dropped any on it since. It is generally accepted that they are fighting fair, and that is more than can be said of the Germans. As my case did not improve I was sent on to the base. It took me all my time to crawl there. They served me and about 50 others with a cup of tea and we were all ordered aboard the New Zealand hospital ship Maheno. Whilst we were lying about, waiting to board the lighter to be towed out to the ship, one poor fellow lying on a stretcher received a stray bullet in the arm. Pretty hard luck was it not, We soon got aboard and the generous people soon made us comfortable within and without. They first brought round bread and butter and tea and it was beautiful. We had had nothing but biscuits for weeks past and as we were all pretty well starving we did whack in. It perhaps was not the correct diet for acute dysentry, but we could not resist it. We put to sea that night and after a couple of stops arrived here at Malta. Oh I cannot say too much of the Sisters on the Hospital Ship. They were nothing but kindness and consideration personified. After lying in the harbour a couple of days we were all admitted to the Floriana Hospital, where I am having a continuation of the same kind treatment and attention given me by the New Zealand Sisters. I am pleased to say that I am rapidly becoming convalescent and I would not be surprised, if when I am getting about, that I with the others will be sent to England to recuperate.

Letters from the hospital ship 'Maheno', No 2.

Hospital ship Maheno. Ref: 1/1-002212-G. Alexander Turnbull Library, Wellington, New Zealand. /records/23193984

A small series, of unknown length, highlighting letters from the hospital ship, 'Maheno'.

Part of my ANZAC Commemoration in the year 2020.

Name: John Francis McGrath
Enlisted: 27 Jan 1915
Unit: 17th Australian Infantry Battalion
Fate: Returned to Australia, 12th May 1918
Source: Australian War Memorial

Letter as it appears in the Nambucca and Bellinger News (NSW : 1911 - 1945), Friday 5 November 1915, page 5

A Wounded Australian. 

Mr. and Mrs. McGrath, Macksville, are in receipt of a letter from their son— Private John McGrath — whom it was reported was missing. He is again at the front. The following is an extract from his letter ...

"I suppose that you have heard long ago that I was wounded in action on August 27th. I was hit five times in about ten minutes. The first four did not hurt, but the fifth one did. They were all bomb wounds. I walked down to the beach, about two miles distant on my own. I reached there about 9.30 p.m. and by 11 o'clock I was on the hospital ship "Maheno." We went to Lemnos where we stayed two days, afterwards going to Malta. After three days stay we steamed for England. Arrived at Plymouth Sound we boarded the train for London. We travelled all night reaching our destination at 6 next morning and were sent in motor cars to the King George hospital, about 10 minutes drive from the station. At the hospital we were treated like lords. Although we had only been there three days the gentlemen sent round their motor cars and carriages for us, and took parties of us to their clubs, giving us as much light refreshment as we can consume. Sometimes we are taken to their own homes. I have seen many of the principal buildings in London. The hospital is near Trafalgar Square. All the visitors ask to see the Australians. They think we are great men and give us enough smokes to supply a town. Our hospital suit is a royal blue tweed suit, white shirt and red tie. We are not allowed out on our own. 

Ten days after receiving my wounds and while on the boat I was operated on. A piece of steel about an inch long was taken out of my neck. This wound was caused after a bayonet charge on August 27. We received 200 rounds of ammunition and then advanced against a Turkish position. Our instructions were to take three lines of trenches. We advanced through our trench, dug for the purpose, for about half a mile and then into the open. For half a mile we had to cross open ground. The order was given to "fix bayonets and charge." Our course was down a hill about 200 yards, and then up the hill into the Turks' trench. I formed part of the second party and we made for the second trench which we took. Others followed and we had almost, the third trench taken before I was wounded. The Australians succeeded in taking both that and two more trenches before next morning. I was in the trench three or four hours. I was not badly wounded and am nearly well again. 

I was lucky in being sent to London. It was well worth being wounded for a week or two. I will now be ready for another shot at the enemy.

Letters from the hospital ship 'Maheno', No 1.

A postcard of the 'Maheno' prior to service as a hospital ship,
from the Herbert Lomax postcard collection held at the State Library of Queensland.

A small series, of unknown length, highlighting letters from the hospital ship, 'Maheno'.

Part of my ANZAC Commemoration in the year 2020.

Name: Sergie Alexander (Nicholas) Rosenberg
Enlisted:19 Mar 1915
Unit: 19th Australian Infantry Battalion
Fate: Returned to Australia, 4 Nov 1915
Source: Australian War Memorial


Letter as it appears in Daily Advertiser (Wagga Wagga, NSW : 1911 - 1954), Saturday 4 December 1915, page 6

SOLDIERS' LETTERS.
"HIS LITTLE BIT."
A WAGGA BOY'S REGRETS. 

Private Sergius Rosenberg, son of Mrs. Jourdain, of Baylis-street, Wagga, who has been invalided home, and is returning by the hospital ship "Maheno," writing on October 2, says:— "I do not like leaving my company, as we have worked together through thick and thin and shared all the privations, but maybe in time I will rejoin them. Looking over yonder (to Gallipoli) from the hospital ship, it looks like a huge miners' camp. The rattle of the machine guns and the crackling of the artillery in the distance sounds like a fireworks display. I had six solid weeks on the Peninsula, and in that time our battalion lost 50 per cent. of its men, so it means double work for us all. " 'Tis only while the war lasts," the lads would say, and go on with their work cheerfully. We had a severe time, but I stuck to it as long as I could until the old trouble robbed me of the chance of doing my little bit. Constant fatigue and long hours soon located my weak spot, and although the doctor did his best for me, I was sent to the hospital ship, unfit to renew my task, lacking energy and feeling "beat." Private Rosenberg was previously operated on for appendicitis.