Delegate Returned Servicemens Leagues Sub branch
100 Years on.
You certainly would not have needed a radio weather forecast to know that it was a wet day on the 6th of January 1916 when you and 11 of you cobbers left Delegate under the banner announcing yourselves as the Men From Snowy River on a recruitment route march to Goulburn via most parts of the Monaro.
You most likely came from one of the families who were in their second generation or so of settling on the harsh but rewarding country formerly known as the Maneroo and now known as the Monaro. Your people would have been well aware of the need for self-reliance for survival and carried the legacy of all the cracks who had gathered to the fray. You would have been handy with gun and horse as well as extremely practical. You may well have lied about your age.
You would have been well aware of the big blue in Europe and that, as an Empire Man, you were expected to do your bit for King and Country. Besides, they said, it’d be a lark, see the world they said, be part of the cream as a volunteer, they said, not the curds and whey of a conscript, they said. You’ll be home by Christmas, they said. They’ll pay you 5 bob a day they said.
You may have heard the words of recruitment Captain Wedd before the march began, “The famous Monaro brumby is noted for its staying qualities” “whilst the man from Snowy River is noted for his fine physique and stamina”, his language is always colourful.
So it was you set out singing songs like “Marching Through Georgia” as you followed the220 mile route via Bombala, Cooma, Queanbeyan and Bungendore before arriving in Goulburn on 29 January. You had been feted all along the route. In all 142 men arrived in Goulburn, well short of the 200 expected.
In September 1916 you departed Australia as part of the 55th Battalion for England via South Africa with mostly 2 up to while away the time at sea. There may not have been much of that 5 bob a day left by the time you got to Blighty.
By April 1917 the shine had defiantly have gone off the new ball when you found yourself on the Somme rubbing your feet and calves with whale oil to combat trench foot.
The first time you stood at your trench wall waiting for the shriek of the whistle to send you over the top and into battle would have called on every bit of self-reliance you had been taught by the tough life back on the, by now beloved, Monaro.
And so it went on. You may well have been amongst the troops who had become so disenchanted by the British High Commands total disregard for human life that, when reviewed by the King, could not bring themselves to respond to the call for three cheers for the King. You may have been gassed, seen the demise of the Red Barron and fought with the Yanks at the end against the Hindenburg line.
You would have received the news of the signing of the armistice around 10.00am on the 11th of November 1918.
By April of 1919 you would have been set to be demobbed and yet, you who had survived all this, would not all come home together. First home would be the longest serving, followed by those with family responsibilities. Then those assured employment.
During WWI, Australian troops raised (excluding naval forces) numbered 416,809; of these 331,789 took the field. Casualties numbered 215,045; of which 59,342 were killed. Compare this with the nation’s population in 1916 - 4,875,325
You, like most of your compatriots, probably didn’t talk much about your experience afterwards due to general disbelief or indifference. You would have had to wait a mighty long time to see the tears flow freely when Eric Bogle sang “And the band played Waltzing Matilda” and people could finally appreciate what you had been through.
And so, a hundred years later, the descendants and the wider Monaro community gathered to commemorate these events at Delegate over the Australia Day weekend. There was a street march, speeches, a rousing description of what those men went through by that great chronicler of conflict Peter Fitzsimons AM and martial music from the Royal Australian Military College Band.
It was not a celebration, rather a commemoration. Lest we forget.
Delegate Returned Servicemens Leagues Sub branch
100 Years on.
You certainly would not have needed a radio weather forecast to know that it was a wet day on the 6th of January 1916 when you and 11 of you cobbers left Delegate under the banner announcing yourselves as the Men From Snowy River on a recruitment route march to Goulburn via most parts of the Monaro.
You most likely came from one of the families who were in their second generation or so of settling on the harsh but rewarding country formerly known as the Maneroo and now known as the Monaro. Your people would have been well aware of the need for self-reliance for survival and carried the legacy of all the cracks who had gathered to the fray. You would have been handy with gun and horse as well as extremely practical. You may well have lied about your age.
You would have been well aware of the big blue in Europe and that, as an Empire Man, you were expected to do your bit for King and Country. Besides, they said, it’d be a lark, see the world they said, be part of the cream as a volunteer, they said, not the curds and whey of a conscript, they said. You’ll be home by Christmas, they said. They’ll pay you 5 bob a day they said.
You may have heard the words of recruitment Captain Wedd before the march began, “The famous Monaro brumby is noted for its staying qualities” “whilst the man from Snowy River is noted for his fine physique and stamina”, his language is always colourful.
So it was you set out singing songs like “Marching Through Georgia” as you followed the220 mile route via Bombala, Cooma, Queanbeyan and Bungendore before arriving in Goulburn on 29 January. You had been feted all along the route. In all 142 men arrived in Goulburn, well short of the 200 expected.
In September 1916 you departed Australia as part of the 55th Battalion for England via South Africa with mostly 2 up to while away the time at sea. There may not have been much of that 5 bob a day left by the time you got to Blighty.
By April 1917 the shine had defiantly have gone off the new ball when you found yourself on the Somme rubbing your feet and calves with whale oil to combat trench foot.
The first time you stood at your trench wall waiting for the shriek of the whistle to send you over the top and into battle would have called on every bit of self-reliance you had been taught by the tough life back on the, by now beloved, Monaro.
And so it went on. You may well have been amongst the troops who had become so disenchanted by the British High Commands total disregard for human life that, when reviewed by the King, could not bring themselves to respond to the call for three cheers for the King. You may have been gassed, seen the demise of the Red Barron and fought with the Yanks at the end against the Hindenburg line.
You would have received the news of the signing of the armistice around 10.00am on the 11th of November 1918.
By April of 1919 you would have been set to be demobbed and yet, you who had survived all this, would not all come home together. First home would be the longest serving, followed by those with family responsibilities. Then those assured employment.
During WWI, Australian troops raised (excluding naval forces) numbered 416,809; of these 331,789 took the field. Casualties numbered 215,045; of which 59,342 were killed. Compare this with the nation’s population in 1916 - 4,875,325
You, like most of your compatriots, probably didn’t talk much about your experience afterwards due to general disbelief or indifference. You would have had to wait a mighty long time to see the tears flow freely when Eric Bogle sang “And the band played Waltzing Matilda” and people could finally appreciate what you had been through.
And so, a hundred years later, the descendants and the wider Monaro community gathered to commemorate these events at Delegate over the Australia Day weekend. There was a street march, speeches, a rousing description of what those men went through by that great chronicler of conflict Peter Fitzsimons AM and martial music from the Royal Australian Military College Band.
It was not a celebration, rather a commemoration. Lest we forget.