Pte Arthur Thomas (Lilydale), 1st Machine Gun Battalion: In the front line, France. In a letter to his father – ‘We have had some beautiful weather this last few days but last night, and this morning, it has been wet and very muddy. I have just come off my two hours’ post. It is very quiet here today but it has been rough here. We were out of the trenches eight days, and now we are back in the trenches for eight days, and then out for another rest. Of course, things are not always dull like this.
I will try to give you some idea of a two hours’ shift in the trenches. I am asleep and dreaming of home and loved ones, but at 11.45pm I get a shake, or a bump, or a kick from my mates, whichever is handiest, and wake up to the remark, ‘Come on, Dreamy; get a hustle on!’ We getup, vowing we have just gone to sleep, but we have had four hours and the relief must be changed. We sleepily and politely tell them to suck eggs but it’s no use, up one must get, already dressed. We slip on our overcoats and steel helmets and crawl out and wish the war was over and then wake up to reality. We get all passwords from those we relieve, the number of parties out in front, and any other information that may be necessary, and we are now on duty.
Well one of us goes on first looking over the top, and the other stays in the trench and has a smoke, or sits down somewhere but must keep handy. Well my mate goes on. The first hour I do not feel like talking, so fill up and have a smoke, and think of all sorts of nice things and watch the clouds go scudding along, a half-moon going down in the west until my turn to go on, and my mate climbs down and I take his place. I see my rifle is loaded, the bolt working properly and keeping it handy I watch, sitting as comfortable as possible. Up goes a flare. I scan the ground in front and raise my rifle at the ready, and fancy I see something move and fire and all along the line someone sees something, and perhaps imagines it, for you hear the rattle of machine guns and rifles rise and fall like wind amongst the trees; and then suddenly we get the order to put on gas helmets.
You pass the word to your mate, and he flies and wakens up all sleeping men. They put on their helmets, fix bayonets, and take their places, I to my machine guns, and stand to, ready for anything. Perhaps nothing comes of it. It all dies away to quietness; and we get the order, ‘Stand down’, carry on, and so up to our posts again, and wait perhaps until you see a flash of a rifle in the enemy’s lines, at which you fire perhaps sending death or agony to some fond mother’s son, or perhaps wasting another shot for your country’s honor, who knows. And then the dull boom of a trench mortar sending 20, 50 or 100 lbs of death-dealing iron on its way. Such is the hourly watch of the night.
It is now 1.45am, we wake our relief and get the same compliments from them as we gave them when they woke us earlier in the night, crawl into our quarters for four hours’ sleep and we are lucky, who knows what will happen next? But in a few minutes we are sound asleep, and forget all about it until our next shift, or something turns up that may cause us to‘stand to’.
I have nothing else to tell you, other than I am quite well and happy, and have no complaints, and quite content to do my duty, and quite used to all the noises and looking forward to the conclusion of this war and then for home and sweetheart and what a time we will have. Our wiz-bang is sending over iron rations for Fritz’s dinner. It is now 20 to 12, so, I must go and cook some dinner for myself and mates’.
David Davies (Wandin): Leaves his farm and enlists in the AIF, he is 23 years old. He is the first of three brothers, David, William & Roy, to enlist in the AIF.
Bert Hooper (Mt Dandenong): Leaves his job as a baker to enlist in the AIF, he is 24 years old.