The Chronicles of a Gay Gordon

The morning of the review arrived. Once again it was a glorious day. On all occasions throughout my many years of command when “functions,” reviews, or camps of training took place, “Queen’s weather” had always been my good fortune. The crowd that gathered at Centennial Park to witness the review rivalled that which had witnessed the arrival of the fleet. It was put down at some three hundred and fifty thousand people. The actual number of troops on parade was over twenty-one thousand, of which some four thousand were mounted troops. It was no easy task to manœuvre this number of troops on the restricted space at Centennial Park, especially as I had arranged, much to the delight of the people, for the mounted troops to gallop past the saluting point as a final tour de force before the last advance in review order. However, with the assistance of an able staff and preliminary conferences with my commanding officers, the review passed off without the slightest hitch. Just as the presence of the Japanese sailors under arms at the review had established a record in Melbourne, so did that of the Americans establish one in Sydney, and, for the second time, I had the honour of commanding armed forces of a Foreign Nation on parade on British soil.

One more incident of the review. There had been thousands of the inhabitants of Sydney who were naturally unable to witness it but were most anxious to see the foreign sailors. I had arranged with their naval Commander-in-Chief that he should land at different landing-stages on the several quays of the harbour. By this means residents in many parts of Sydney would see them marching past their homes. The distances from these landing-stages to Centennial Park were somewhat long, and as the review was a rather trying one, occupying close upon four hours, I had arranged to transport the whole of the Americans back from the review ground to their different quays by tram, utilizing the tram system attached to the Sydney Show Ground, which lies adjacent to Centennial Park, and, further, to give them a good feed previous to boarding the trams on the return home. My Quartermaster-General’s Department quite surpassed themselves in their efforts in this direction. They arranged for the units of the American Fleet, on completion of the review, to march in succession straight on to the Royal Agricultural Society’s Grounds, and in doing so to pass through some of the big buildings used for purposes of exhibits at the show time. Long, narrow tables were set up in these buildings, parallel to each other. On these tables, right down each side, were placed packets containing each four healthy sandwiches, a large piece of cake, an apple and an orange, a big bun and cheese. On passing through the building the men of each company marched in two files, dividing on each side of the table, and each man picked up his parcel and moved on to the open Oval. As the tables were cleared they were immediately replenished by a large staff of assistants, ready for the succeeding companies. In this manner the six thousand Americans received their rations within half an hour.

Once reaching the Oval and other open spaces of the society’s grounds each company was directed to what my Quartermaster-General called “a fountain” (which meant that piled up around a small beer barrel were plenty of bottles of all kinds of aerated waters), on reaching which each company sat down around it, ate the contents of their packets and drank to their hearts’ content. The return journey to the ships was accomplished without any accident, and a day never to be forgotten by those who witnessed it was past and gone. The enthusiasm of the immense crowd was raised to the highest pitch when squadron after squadron of Light Horse galloped past the saluting point at fairly close intervals, riding hard, as only Australians can ride, forty squadrons, some 100 strong each.

Previous to my leaving Sydney I held another great review at Centennial Park. I had promised that I would give the parents and relations and friends of the lads serving under the universal service system an opportunity of seeing for themselves how well the youngsters were doing, how keen they were, and also the state of efficiency that they had reached. So I decided to hold a review of those from 16 to 18 years of age serving in the Metropolitan area. The day of the review arrived. Over twenty-two thousand lads were on parade. The Governor-General, Lord Denman, took the salute. The crowd was certainly not so large as that which was present at the time of the visit of the American Fleet, but still it was enormous. At a certain stage of the review the order was given for “Hats off. Three cheers for the King.” The rule is on such ceremonial occasions to take the time for the three cheers from the general officer commanding the parade, who, riding in front of the line of troops, faces the saluting point. The three cheers were duly given when, to my surprise, I heard a shrill cry of “Tiger!” and, following it, “One more cheer.” I looked round just in time to see some thousands of hats in the air. The lads provided this extra entertainment on their own.

The way the boys marched, their soldierly bearing, their smart appearance and their enthusiasm were the best answer that the Government, Parliament and the people of Australia could have had as to the success of the universal service system which they had brought into force. Many, indeed, were the proud fathers and mothers on that day.

One last record. I had commanded the first review of trainees.

In 1912, on General Hoad’s death, I was appointed Chief of the General Staff and First Member of the Military Board, the highest position in the military forces of the Commonwealth.

For the constant and willing co-operation of the Australian officers and men who served under me with such zeal for so many years I give my sincerest thanks. They have since proved themselves heroic soldiers in the field.

To Gordon of Khartoum for his three golden rules of life; to General Downes for the excellent example he gave of what an upright soldier should be; and to Sergeant Charles Cameron Kingston for his appreciation of my work and ever-ready assistance I owe the deepest debt of gratitude.

CHAPTER VI

CHIEF OF THE GENERAL STAFF

When General Hoad, my predecessor as Chief of the General Staff, fell ill, the Government decided to grant him six months’ leave of absence on full pay, and his duties were to be carried out temporarily by Major Wilson, R.F.A., p. s.c., who was the only qualified staff officer at the time attached to the Headquarters Staff of the Commonwealth Forces. During these six months Major Wilson had an exceedingly difficult task. It is needless to say that all he was able to do was to carry on ordinary routine work. There was practically no organization of the department of the Chief of the Staff. As, on my taking on the duties, Major Wilson’s period of service as a loan officer expired and he was due to return home, I found myself all alone in my glory. A word of acknowledgment is due to Major Wilson for the able way in which he battled against the long odds he had to face.

My first request to the Minister was for the recall of Captain White, a local officer, who, having been sent home to the Staff College, had taken high honours, was attached after completing his staff course to one of the Directorates of the Army Council, and was earning for himself an excellent reputation, which he has proved by his success in the war. He is now Major-General Sir Brudnel White and Chief of the Staff himself of the Australian Forces.

My second request was for the loan of another p. s.c. officer from home. The Minister approved, and within a short time Captain White and Captain Glasford joined me. Later on the Minister approved of two more p. s.c. officers from home on the understanding that each year two local officers would be selected and sent to Camberley; by doing so we would in time avoid the necessity of further borrowing.

A great task was before us. My colleagues on the Military Board were each faced with somewhat similar difficulties, but by working together and mutually assisting each other we managed to make good progress.

Perhaps our most serious problem was to consolidate the organization of our universal service system. Each battalion area – and there were several hundreds, required an officer and at least one sergeant-major as duly qualified administrators and instructors; each brigade area wanted a reliable staff. Our finances would not allow us to import them; we had to train them locally. The establishment of local schools of instruction achieved this object in due course with satisfactory results.

The next and all-important task was the preparation of sound general and local schemes of defence for the whole of the Commonwealth – a far-reaching problem. It not only required endless care and attention in its conception and construction, but needed to be so thoroughly set out as to be easily grasped by all concerned. With the assistance of Captain White, whose special work this was, the schemes were completed, and I satisfied myself of their efficacy and thoroughness some ten months before war began. No better proof of this is necessary than the rapidity and ease with which Australia mobilized on the receipt of the news of the outbreak of war. I am proud to quote one fact. As an adjunct to the general scheme of defence I had been most anxious that our Government should offer the War Office the services of an Australian division complete in personnel and materiel for service anywhere in the Empire or out of it if required, and to be maintained while on service at full strength at the expence of the Commonwealth for whatever length of time it might be wanted. After several months of persistent effort the Minister obtained the consent of the Cabinet. The offer was made and accepted by the Home Government. All details of organization were worked out. When war was declared the details for mobilizing the first division were all cut and dried. Who could have guessed in those days that finally Australia would contribute somewhere about half a million men to assist the Mother Country?

In connexion with the preparation of the schemes of defence a most intricate and perplexing question was the defence of the northern littoral of the immense island continent. It would be out of place to attempt to discuss the matter here. Suffice it to point out that I was instructed to visit the northern littoral of Australia and submit a report. Choosing the most suitable season of the year to make the tour, I left Brisbane in the company of the then Government Resident of the Northern Territory, Doctor Gilruth. The voyage along the coast of Queensland, sailing within the Great Barrier Reef northwards to Torres Straits, is one of the most interesting voyages in the world. After leaving the Reef and clearing Cape York, you enter the Torres Straits and make for a group of islands, the most important of which is Thursday Island. It is the headquarters of the pearl fishing industry and an Imperial coaling station for the Navy, protected by forts manned by Australian artillery. The opportunity was given me during my tour to witness the wonderful diving feats of the coloured crews. Pearl fishing is a paying business, especially since the great advance in the price of the mother-of-pearl shells, but one which demands much nautical skill and the surmounting of many perils.

One of my duties was the selection of a site for the construction of the highest power wireless station to be erected in the southern hemisphere. An entertaining incident occurred in connexion therewith. Some thirty miles inland from Port Darwin, in the neighbourhood of the railway line to Pine Creek, lay an extensive lake, the waters of which were an important adjunct to the requirements of the site. Accompanied by Doctor Gilruth and other officials we proceeded to visit the locality. Leaving the train we trekked through the bush to find the lake. By some means I became detached from our guides and found myself alone with the representative of our Naval Board. We were “bushed” – had no idea which way to turn. I knew enough of bush life to remember that the best thing to do when bushed is to remain quiet and not attempt to walk far, light a fire and await the arrival of the rescue party. This we did, and when, after waiting about an hour, our friends found us, we were actually only about a quarter of a mile from the railway line and our train, where a good luncheon was awaiting us. “Much ado about nothing.”

On the return journey to Melbourne we visited New Guinea. What a wonderful country! I would advise those who delight in good reading to purchase Miss Grimshaw’s books. Not only are they of overpowering interest, but they are a living picture of the customs and habits of the Papuan race.

On our arrival at Port Moresby, the seat of Government, Colonel Murray, the High Commissioner, invited us to be his guests. Miss Grimshaw was at the time Colonel Murray’s guest also, and I had the pleasure of making the acquaintance of the charming person whose intrepid and adventurous nature had made us acquainted with the fascination of that hitherto hardly-known island and its mysteries. Its orchids and butterflies alone are sought for with the greatest zeal by the collectors of the world.

On my return to Melbourne I found that the inevitable was approaching. Time, which has but little respect for persons, had moved on, and I was close up to the age when the regulations demanded my retirement. On March 18, 1914, I would overtake my fifty-eighth birthday, and my active career would close.

Our Government, however, had invited General Ian Hamilton, at the time holding the appointment of Inspector-General of Oversea Forces, to make a tour of inspection of the Commonwealth. As Hamilton was due to arrive in February of that year I was requested to carry on till his tour was completed, and it was arranged that I should retire on August 1, instead of March 18, 1914. The general left in May. He was specially interested in the success of the universal service, and his report was a highly satisfactory one.

Nothing was left to me but to make my last visits of inspection to the several States and satisfy myself that the schemes of defence were up to date and in thorough working order. This I did, and was well pleased with the results.

I booked my passage by the Orient steamer Orama, which was leaving Fremantle on July 26, 1914. A fateful date for me. I had said my last good-byes, and as the Orama left port we heard of the declaration of war by Austria against Serbia. Wireless messages reached us later of Germany’s declaration against Russia. Then we got no more news till we were reaching Colombo, about August 6. The Great World War had commenced on August 4.

By four days I had missed the opportunity of organizing and commanding the division which, through my efforts, Australia had offered to the Home Government a few months before. General Bridges, my successor, raised it and led it to Gallipoli, where, unfortunately, he fell mortally wounded. I have often thought his end would have been a fitting crown to my life’s work.

1

“I like them all; I like them all equally well.”

2

Take care. You are taking too many risks.