Australasia Triumphant!: With the Australians and New Zealanders in the Great War on Land and Sea

by Arthur St. John Adcock

Shall we sin our fathers' sin.

The fact is, and it is now revealing itself, Germany does not understand what freedom means. She does not know the difference between slavery and brotherhood, and, with all her owlish wisdom, has never realised that love is a mightier bond than fear. She has learnt nothing from her failures in Poland, in Alsace, in her own Colonies. So immature is her conception of Empire that she took it as a sign of weakness in us when, after spending blood and treasure in the South African War, we withdrew and left the Boers and our own people living there to join hands and make their own laws and govern themselves. "The low-Dutch are in the ascendant in South Africa now," wrote the egregious Bernhardi, and he pronounced that when Germany launched her legions against England the South Africans would be quick to seize the occasion and rise and strike for freedom.

But people do not strike to obtain what they possess. The long-premeditated blow has fallen, and instead of shattering the British Empire past repair has merely tightened any loose rivets in it and welded it more firmly together than ever. German psychology has proved a vain thing; not a single one of the solemn prophecies of her professors has come true. South Africa has crushed the enemy at her gates, has added German West Africa to the Empire, and is sending troops over to fight in the British battle-line in France. The Princes of India have rallied eagerly to the flag, and France and the Dardanelles have undying stories to tell of the loyalty and courage of those sons of hers who have fought and died for its honour. The moment the word of alarm flashed over the seas, Canada, Australia, New Zealand leaped to arms and were ready, and sent their thousands forth and are sending them still to hold inviolate the Empire that is theirs no less than ours.

But this is to be the story of the boys from Down Under; the equally glorious stories of Canada, South Africa, India I leave to other tellers.

In those August days of 1914 when war and peace were still in the balance, and we of the British Isles were waiting in tensest anxiety, not fearing that war was to come, but dreading lest the diplomatists should arrive at a compromise that would justify us in standing meanly aside and leaving France to her fate; all through Australia and New Zealand men waited as anxiously, torn with the self-same fear. And on the morning of the 5th, when the cable told them that Great Britain had declared war upon Germany they felt the same deep sense of relief that the same news had brought to us at midnight on the 4th–relief, and even thankfulness that, with Belgium's neutrality ruthlessly broken, the Empire had done the only right and honourable thing. When the storm burst, the Federal Parliament of Australia had been dissolved and electioneering was in full swing. Nevertheless, in two days, with the whole-hearted approval of all parties in the country, the Prime Minister had offered to send 20,000 men to the front, as a first contingent, and our Government had gladly accepted the offer. The Australian Commissioner in London called at the War Office in connection with this proposal, and wrote home to say that Lord Kitchener told him, "I know the Australian soldier, and know he will give a good account of himself"; and that his final words were, "Roll up! Roll up!"

And no sooner was the call made for volunteers for foreign service than they did roll up–they went swarming in thousands to the recruiting stations at Sydney, Melbourne, Adelaide, Brisbane, Hobart, Perth, and other great centres, and in a very short time more than the required number had been enrolled and were rapidly gathered into vast camps at Broadmeadows, at Helena Vale, and elsewhere, and all the States of the Commonwealth were humming with warlike preparations. The militia were called out; Rifle Clubs were formed; the women organised for Red Cross work and to look after the needs of the soldiers and their families; troops slept by their guns in the forts round the coast, for German cruisers were prowling then in the Pacific and the Indian Ocean and there were possibilities of raids and bombardments. Negotiations were opened with the Imperial Government, which readily granted a War Loan of £18,000,000. There was prompt seizure of German and Austrian ships lying in Australian ports; there was a drastic hunting down of German spies and rounding up of alien enemies. Word that war had been declared was received on the morning of the 5th August, and at noon of the same day Australia's first shot was fired from the fort at Point Nepean, when a German cargo steamer, the Pfatz, was held up and captured. The first expeditionary force was raised within two or three days; and before the end of August a second large contingent had been formed and had gone into camp for training, this second contingent including a Light Horse Brigade; and "the Australian Light Horse," as Lord Denman, sometime Governor-General of the Commonwealth, has said, "is the finest Light Horse in the world."

A goodly percentage of these volunteer armies–for the compulsory service in Australia and New Zealand is for home defence only–were bushmen, farm-hands, clerks, miners, many of whom had thrown up lucrative appointments and journeyed long distances, hot-foot to be in time. A writer in The Melbourne Age spent an hour at one of the depots in Melbourne and gave the following list of the recruits who presented themselves whilst he was there: "jeweller–1; cricketer–1; actor–1; collar-maker–1; musicians–3; hairdressers–3; cooks–7; journalists–5; teachers–8; draper's assistant, 'private means,' hotel porter, military officer, chemist, wool classer, tailor, axeman, rubber planter, investor, insurance agent, signwriter, and student–1 each. There were two or three storekeepers, ten motor mechanics, and half a dozen travellers. This list," the reporter continues, "is a typical one, though of course in some States particular occupations would be differently represented. Generally speaking, it would be correct to say that at least 80 per cent. of the men–eight in every ten–have in some way earned their livings with their hands. The remaining 20 per cent. would be made up of clerks, accountants, shopkeepers, professional men, and others who were not manual labourers. In the great field entered for the greatest of all races, 'private means' shows up rather badly."

But we must not forget that "private means" represents the smallest section of the community. What is infinitely more significant is that before the end of November 1914 more than the 20,000 men offered had been raised, had finished their preliminary training and sailed for Egypt; and a second force of 16,500 was then in training to follow them. There was also a force of some 7,000 mobilised for home defence. Something of what Australia was doing, of the ardour and spirit and spontaneous patriotism that animated her people may be gathered from a communication which Sir Charles Lucas made to The Times. Sir Charles, who used to be head of the Dominions Department of the Colonial Office, was on a visit to Australia in those early days of the war, and what impressed him greatly was the prevailing common sense and patriotic enthusiasm with which public bodies and private citizens worked, the promptitude and swiftness with which they prepared themselves, as if the war had been at their very doors instead of thousands of miles away. He saw no violent anti-German outbreak; no bombast nor boastfulness; nothing but a sober, willing, resolute desire to participate to the utmost in the great fight for freedom that was not to be the motherland's only, but the Empire's. "Political parties, the churches, and all classes spoke with one voice," says Sir Charles. "War funds seemed to be almost unduly multiplied; young men everywhere were eager to go to the front, and all were making sacrifices in time, and money, and work"; and he expresses the keenest admiration of the men he saw at the military camps, and the zeal, cheerfulness, and efficiency with which all ranks were fitting themselves for the task to which they had put their hands. "Australia will support the cause of the Empire in this war to the last man and the last shilling"–Mr. Fisher knew the hearts of his people before he drew that limitless bill upon their loyalty, and this is the glorious story of how they are meeting it.

As it was in Australia, so it was in New Zealand. There was the same intense suspense in those first days of August 1914, the same nameless fear lest the old country should be lulled into accepting German pledges or otherwise induced to remain neutral and leave France to her fate, the same fierce indignation against the unprovoked attack upon Belgium, and the same immeasurable sense of relief and thankfulness when the word came that Britain had declared war. There was, too, the same spontaneous uprising, the same sinking of party differences, the same swift, passionate gathering up of all the energies, all the resources of the nation and placing them at the service of the Empire–not with any lust for glory or conquest, but with a high realisation that in so doing New Zealand was devoting herself also to the higher service of humanity. For, as you may hear on all hands, it was the terrible story of Belgium's martyrdom that stirred such a passion of sympathy and blazing wrath throughout New Zealand as in Australia–the thought of that gallant little people so brutally wronged and battling with such desperate heroism to drive back the barbaric hordes of a mighty invader: it was this that so tore at the hearts of people there that they rejoiced, as at the best of good tidings, when Britain took up the cause of the weak and the wronged and gave them the chance to fight, and if need be die beside her in so just a cause. No tocsin sounded in any dark hour of attack ever called forth such myriads and such more than willing myriads of defenders as have rallied from all quarters of the earth to the cry that went up from those violated homes of Belgium. Australia and New Zealand in generous rivalry made haste to subscribe funds for the relief of the Belgian refugees, and to send them shipments of food, blankets, and clothing. Meanwhile, military preparations went forward in New Zealand with amazing rapidity. An expeditionary force of 10,000 was raised, and by the time they were ready to sail for Egypt a further 3,000 were training in camp at Wellington, recruits were offering themselves in undiminishing numbers, and arrangements were made to send out reinforcements of at least 3,000 every two months–a figure which has since been largely increased. There was a demand that the age limit should be raised to fifty, such multitudes of older men were keen to go on active service; but as this was not done, they organised themselves, as our older men have done in the homeland and in every one of the British dominions, into Citizen Armies for home defence. In less than three weeks Christchurch alone had enrolled an army of this sort 1,200 strong, made up, like the New Zealand army for the field, and like all the new British armies, of men drawn from all classes of the community. The Premier, and other leading men of the nation, declared in unqualified terms that New Zealand was ready to give her all, and to shrink from no sacrifice for the honour and the integrity of the Empire, and she has ever since been fulfilling that pledge to the utmost.

One has read many such stories as that of the college professor who threw up his appointment at Dunedin in order to enlist as a private; and as that of the prosperous farmer miles away across the lonely plains of South Island, who had heard nothing of any crisis until news burst upon him that war had been declared two days ago, then, fearing he might be too late, left his farm to the care of his wife and whoever could be got to look after it, hurried by horse and rail to Canterbury, took a few years off his age, and got into the first expeditionary force. And one could tell numerous similar stories of the Australians. There is that record of Cormick, the young Queensland grazier, who, immediately the call reached him, rode 460 miles to the nearest station at Hergott Springs, then travelled 450 miles by rail to Adelaide, only to find that the Light Horse regiment there had made up its full number. He telegraphed to Tasmania, but the Light Horse section there had no opening for him. He had made up his mind to go, however, and, though he must have spent more than a year's pay in journeying from place to place on his quest, he succeeded at last and sailed with the first overseas contingent.