What actually happened, on that fatal day, in the Western Desert! Well, I’m about to tell you, the full story. When we arrived at the Suez Canal, we were, helped by the Egyptian people, to unload the ships of all the equipment. After a few weeks, we assembled all the men and equipment, and headed south then west toward the Western Desert. I was an Out-Rider. There were six of us, our job was to go forward and report any matter of concern, to the Command. On the way down, I witnessed an endless procession of Bedouin, Nomadic Herds People and other peoples all heading to Cairo, they knew it was on, and they were moving to safety. The Commanding Officers, set up a Line, which stretched from No Man’s Land, to the coast of the Mediterranean Sea, in front of the Line, there was a large hill, to the south of No Man’s Land, from this hill, and the whole battlefield could be surveyed. From this point all could be seen. Now, what the Out-Riders had done was, make tracks across the desert on the hard ground, so we could see where the hard ground was, and did not hit any soft spots and come off our bikes. They, allowed us to traverse the desert, at break neck speed, and that’s how we rode! The Line consisted of thousands of men, artillery, trucks, munitions and other equipment. Being blessed with exceptional night vision I set out about 04:30 that morning, while it was still dark I reported to the Command Post on the hill, it was my job, to ride out about 12 miles, to a forward lookout position, and, get the statistics and disposition, of the enemy as they approached, then report back to the Command Post, with the data. So, just before the sun was coming up, I rode, down the hill and out into the Western Desert 12 miles forward or more along the tracks the Out-Riders had made, it was still dark when I left. When I got far out enough, I set up on observation position. We did not know exactly what to expect. You asked me what I saw. Well let me explain it this way, you know when you look down the road and you see a shimmering water like Mirage, well that’s what I saw shimmering across the desert approaching midday. That’s what I saw first, and then from the shimmering Mirage, I could see their diesel and dust rising above this water like mirage. Then they appeared through the mirage, so I started to crunch the numbers as Field Marshal Ernst Rommel continued his desert blitzkrieg at a very high rate of speed! A Rolling Barrage of Artillery! As their Line got closer, I could see, they were moving artillery towards the coast, which meant, they had a pincer movement in mind, furthermore, the artillery they had, was far superior to ours. For example: they had one artillery piece, the 88 millimeter gun, which was an antiaircraft flak gun, a tank destroyer and a high explosive artillery piece deadly accurate is all I can say. It was designed more like a rifle than a cannon, this is what gave it its accuracy. Closer and closer they came, I think I must have outstayed my welcome, because they did something, I did not expect, they took a shot at me, not one, not two, but three, and not with small guns or rifles, but with the 88 millimeter flak guns. The first shell, went screaming by me, skipped across the ground, like a hand size rock skipping across water, stopped, and then exploded, leaving a large crater in the ground, two more followed, and one, just missed me, the third shell was so close that, the percussion wave coming of the shell, hit me so hard, it knocked me of my feet and I landed fair and square on my back side on the desert floor. I quickly got back on my feet and knew one thing and one thing only that I had out stayed my surreptitious presents. Got it. I then jumped on the bike, my job was done, I had the data we needed for the Command Post, and there was no time to lose. Now the tracks the Out-Riders had made on the desert, came into play, I hammered across the desert at break neck speed, past tanks, which were now coming under fire, and being hit by the 88 millimeter guns. The line was also being hit, and the northern end of the line was under heavy attack. Keep this in mind, 60% of our men had World War 1 equipment, which did not give us anywhere near an even footing. In fact, the Line would have been butchered, if not for, what I am about to tell you of, the courageous decision, those Officers, on that hill, made that day. Well finally, I reached the hill, rode up the hill to the Command Post, where the whole of our Line can now see me, “they know something’s on either to pull back or stay and fight to the last man”, I took my report to the camouflage tent, where the Officers were in council, I gave them the numbers. The numbers, I brought in that day, was the Official Numbers, accepted by the Officers, and was placed in the Official Military Report, regarding the action! From the hill, we could see the northern end of the Line being butchered, and the Officers had to make a decision for the best outcome for all involved. Understand. Churchill wanted them to fight to the last man. They had to decide, whether to pull back, or have, another Gallipoli on their hands, this was the prospect they were faced with. They then made the courageous decision to pullback so they could save as many men and as much material and equipment as possible, to return reinforced and fight back another day. Now, the situation was this, they had to get the Order for the pull back to the Line, for the Line would not pullback without Orders, and someone, had to carry the Order, which I, was Ordered, to do myself. Now, let me tell you, by this stage there was heavy fire coming in on the Command Post, and I had to move quickly, to get to the Line to give the order to pull back, I had to ride out into the battlefield, about a mile, and let the Tank Commander know, as they had lost contact with him, that the Order to pullback had been given. At this stage I took my World War 1 piss pot helmet off, and dropped it on the desert floor, piece of crap, needless to say, “inferior equipment”, Got it? The worst helmet out of all of them! I’m saying the World War 1 helmet would have only been a hindrance at this stage. Keep in mind, it was of a similar design that the Romans used more than 2000 years ago to stop nothing more than slings, arrows and sword blows, Not shrapnel from 88 mm shells, or modern day bullets, or very high impact explosives do you understand where I’m coming from? I’ve then, put on my captain’s cap, and pulled the chinstrap around my chin, and my goggles from up around my neck and over my eyes, So, the Officers wished me luck pulled up stumps, jumped in the vehicle, and went the long way down the back of the hill, to give the Order out to the Line, in case I did not make it to the Line “K.I.A.“. Got It! I had to ride out into the battlefield, to get the order out faster, to save any further, needless and senseless loss of life; the other Officers went the long way. I went the short way out onto the battle field to complete my mission!
THE GAUNTLET! “Do or die”.
I kicked the bike over, now, I was on a wing and a prayer, I rode the bike to the edge of the hill on the northern side, where all the line could have seen me, what I did then, was looked down at the track in front of me and kept my mind on the job at hand. Now the line was being pounded and the ordinance was thick. Down the track on the hill I went out into the battlefield with artillery shells going off all around me, and bullets whizzing around my head like bees, understand! I then rode out, and told the Tank Commander that the Order to pullback had been given, he then said they could not hold their positions much longer anyway, they were being taken out one by one, by the 88s, the turrets of the tanks being blown clean off, the crews inside the tanks burnt to death, they were literally turned into charcoal or carbon, he wished me luck and I replied, and you the same. I then swung the bike around hard and fast, there was a track heading straight to the Line, I was about a mile out. I hammered that bike as hard as I could at times becoming airborne. When I got about 150 yards from the line, I felt a dull thud hit my left leg between my knee and my ankle as an 88 millimeter shell came in and exploded right on the middle of the track in front of me, the explosion left a huge crater in the ground. Now I must explain something to you before I go any further, all artillery shells are different, that is, shells contain different propellants and explosives, when they explode the propellant sometimes, (depending on the atmospheric conditions) can leave a fine layer of petrified sizzling sand, which turns into a fine molten glass. Because of the speed I was travelling I tried to detour the crater but the soft sand made the front wheel dig in hard and I hit the edge of the crater, the bike then acted like a catapult, pitching me off the seat, throwing me up in the air and across to the other side of the crater left by the 88 shell’s explosion, then landed face first on the molten sand. Lucky, I had my goggles on, as I’m sure they saved my precious eyes, but I am sure, if I had been wearing my World War 1 piss pot helmet I probably would have broken my neck. I quickly, got up, brushed this molten sand and sizzling shit off me, my jumper was singed and smoking, at this stage my adrenaline was such that at the time my left leg was of no concern. By then I was 150 yards to 200 yards from the Line, and then I made what I call, “the run of my life”. By this time, the Line was literally, being blown apart, bodies everywhere and the men were being split in two down the middle, and everywhere legs, heads, arms and bodies flying all over the place, also artillery pieces were being hit and blown up and hurled up into the air. “Left, right and centre” trucks and supply dumps were being hit, and this is what I mean by the term our Line was being butchered! With my adrenaline pumping flat out “I ran like hell” through very thick ordinance, artillery shells coming in, artillery shells going out, assorted bullets, coming in and bullets going out, and an alarming assortment of ordinance going off all around me literally everywhere all along the line at the same time, both ways. To this day, I still don’t know how, I made it to the Line! “I put it down to my Guardian Angel and a simple case of run rabbit run”. When I got to the Line, I gave the Order out, and at the same time as the order went across the Line, you ask me what happened next, the answer is simple, I collapsed as my left leg gave way, I was exhausted, completely spent. The boys picked me up, threw me in the back of a truck so hard and fast that I slid along the truck floor and hit the back of the truck cab with my back, Got it.. Now the pullback was in full swing, however, the northern end of the Line, had suffered enormous casualties, where the enemy, had put in place their pincer movement. We suffered great losses as a consequence, of the orders coming, too late for them. This was one of my greatest disappointments of that day, that I did not get to the line sooner, but nevertheless I got there, gave that Order out, which allowed us to return and fight again, better equipped with those saved men!
The Back Way
Now, I am going to explain to you what happened, when I rode down the hill out onto the battlefield, and, what the offices actually did. First of all, around the bottom of the hill, they had a 60 man guard. This however was not your average ordinary guard. Every man in that guard, held the highest weapons marksmanship scores in target practice using assorted weapons machine guns, rifles and pistols you name it.. Now let me put it this way, these men were that good with their weapons they could hit a fly’s asshole at 100 yards, got it, they would hit the mark every time. First of all they had to rally and round up those men. When they came down of the hill they had to make a hard right hand turn, and then a left, this put them on to what I call the steps of the Quattara Depression, these steps are created, by nature where the Western Desert is slipping away into the Quattara Depression, creating a step like landscape, and we were using the top step, too traverse backwards and forwards to the line. The trucks were parked on the steppes which had a 15 the 20 foot sand cliff this protected the trucks from being seen from the battlefield. When they had gathered the men into the trucks, the convoy then proceeded along the top step, heading west to the east, more or less parallel with the battlefield; they drove up a sloping incline, back on to the Western Desert. There they had to turn left, and drive a half a mile to the line, to give the order out for the pullback to go into action for no one would budge an inch “that is to say until the end”, they had to more or less, make a U-turn, got it, Now you may ask, why they never drove across the desert to the line directly, the answer is simple, if they would have taken this option, they would have been just like sitting ducks, the same as the ones in the shooting gallery arcade game, picked off one by one, by the 88 mm flak guns, “Dead Ducks” that is, they would not have had a chance in hell. to make it to the line that way, so they had to use the steps, comprehend! And this is what was taking place when I was out on the battlefield, riding my gauntlet. While I was in the truck, the Medic checked me, and said, I had been shot in the left leg between my knee and my ankle, however my boots had minimized the damage, and then, I did something that I’ll, never, do again, he pulled out a hypodermic needle and I let him give me a shot of morphine, Well, let me tell you, that was the “first and last time”. Have you ever had anything like that? Made you totally disabled! It smacked me down, the medic asked me whether, I needed another shot of morphine as we were approaching Cairo, I thankfully, and gratefully, declined. The drug had such a dramatic effect on my senses, I didn’t even realize, the trucks were being strafed by Stukas (the Junkers Ju 87) and other axis air craft, on the way back to Cairo. Keep in mind, the Axis pilots were seasoned veterans, with years of experience, amongst the best in the world. When we got to Cairo, they put me in hospital it was full of maimed, shot, very severely injured and shell shocked soldiers it was not in the least a pretty picture. I personally did not suffer from this condition (Shell Shock or P.T.S.D.), for the following reason. I have a saying, “let the bullet go past, that is to say once the bullet goes past don’t dwell on it”, “it’s gone, it’s finished, it’s over, it’s out of my mind and that is why I never got shell shock”. I was in hospital for 10 days, they wanted me to stay longer, but, I discharged myself, because, there was only a number of weeks to go before we would return, to the Western Desert! “Stuck in hospital. Not in my life”. Got It! As told by titch
Well on this occasion, we were all down at Circular Quay Sydney, where we boarded the Queen Mary ready to set off for the Middle East via Puna on the West Coast of India, there the British had setup intensive training camps. Some people don’t know this, but when the Queen Mary arrived, she already had American, British, New Zealand troops and others on board. As the Australian troops boarded there was much crying, hugging and kissing, the emotion was thick in the air. When the Queen Mary left Sydney, she headed south so far that we skirted the Antarctic, when they got to a certain distance, they turn right and headed west, skirting the ice flows, then when the ship got in line with India, they turn right and headed north. Now I’ll tell you about a few incidents that happened on the Mary, on the different levels of the ship they had canteens, where the men could go and get a grog ration which they did. The rules were simple, don’t misbehave after a few grogs, though that wasn’t always the case, on one particular occasion, while heading north to Puna in one of the canteens there were some Americans and some Pom’s one of the Pom’s had taken umbrage to one of the Yanks, and a fight started, well I’ll tell you what a fight it was, the Americans were outnumbered by the Pom’s, because the Yanks were outnumbered, some of our boys jumped in to even up the score, they all went flat out hammer and tong, until the Provos arrived [military police], they were known as [The Head Crackers], because that is what they did, got it. They trained with a relentless passion, and were always ready for a fight and could handle it in every respect of that word, and then some, they all went into the fight and it ended pretty quickly, they rounded up all the offenders and put them all into the brig, which was down in the bowels of the ship, in a cell with a dingy red light until they all cooled off, after that they were all good, and the best mates of all , black eyes, broken noses, busted lips and assorted sundries and all, about 30 of them. And it only happened once, ok
A Cigar a Scotch and a Ruthless Game of Chess
Now on another occasion, the offices decided to have a chess competition, which is a game I love. Now the art of chess, is to be at least 6 to 8 moves ahead of your opponent, and that’s how I played the game. You see, Chess is a game of mathematics, there were hundreds of men in this Chess Tournament, and it was played by elimination, now near the start of the tournament, I played this gentleman who appeared to have a relaxed style, and came with a good reputation on the chessboard, in the first game he sat back in his chair in a really relaxed mode, he got beaten, in the second game, he moved forward about halfway onto his chair he got beaten, in the third game, he was sitting well forward on the front edge of his chair while I was carving him up on the chessboard, I prevailed three games straight, some of the men who backed him in the game, lost there hard earned money, but more to come about thist opponent further down the line, in Cairo hospital, he didn’t forget his ruthless lesson as you will see. I got into the Grand Final and won the best of five, the boys gave me the gift of the winning Chess Set, I had beaten everyone I played on the ship [The Queen Mary], and I carried that chess set with me right throughout WW2. and would play against anyone who loved a ruthless game of chess.
U-Boat
Now when we got about halfway up and parallel to the Western Australian coastline, the ship got alerts that they had a submarine sighting, straight away on the ship everybody turned into an observer, and those men with exeptional eyesightwere issued with binoculars and started looking for U-boats. This incident being the greatest danger of our journey, the U-boats were one of the greatest dangers of all at sea, because of their stealth and their very accurate torpedoes, so the captain decided to put the old girl into Full Speed Ahead, so he opened up his engines full throttle and that’s how we proceeded the rest of the way to Puna full-bore. Comprendo!
U-boat Statistics
THE GERMAN NAVY commenced World War II with fifty-six submarines, of which only twenty four were suitable for operations in the Atlantic. In the five and a half years of the war, German shipyards built 1,156 U-boats, of which 784 were lost from enemy action or other causes. Their toll of enemy shipping was 2,603 merchant ships of over 13½ million tons, and 175 naval vessels of all types. In terms of human lives lost, of the total 40,900 men recruited into the service 28,000 German U-boat crew lost their lives and 5,000 were taken prisoners of war. Some 30,000 men of the allied merchant service died, in addition to an unknown number of Allied naval personnel. When the war ended, 156 U-boats surrendered, 221 were scuttled by their own crews and two escaped to Argentina. German U-boats in World War II operated in all oceans of the world and were responsible for sinking enemy ships in areas as far distant as the Dutch East Indies and the Arctic Ocean.
The Great Pyramids and their Mysteries After my release from the hospital in Cairo, I went to the officers club, for a cigar a scotch and a ruthless game of chess. There I was fortunate enough to meet one of the curators of the Great Pyramids; he had piercing eyes, to the point of being hypnotic. During our discussions, I informed him that I could not be hypnotized because my mind was my own, and I was in full control of that fact, he called me “my brother” and I reciprocated the same, I felt honored to get this opportunity, and I grabbed it with both hands! The curator had heard of my exploits of courage on the battlefield in defense of his country, and offered to take me on a tour of the Great Pyramid. I jumped at the chance. I made an appointment to meet him around 10 o’clock in the morning at the great pyramid. True to his word, he kept his promise, and let me tell you, it was quite a climb up the stair like ramp, which let into the grand chamber, this was one of the greatest gift in my lifetime, to stand in the grand or great chamber, of the Great Pyramid of Cheops with its huge Sarcophagus, and to glean its mysteries, We stood there talking for about 45 minutes which only seemed like five, I sensed an energy or something there like no other, a strange inexplicable gut feeling. Then the curator did something I did not expect, he took me to the bottom of the pyramid, there we entered into a tunnel, as we were walking along this tunnel in a southerly direction, he was on my left hand side, the tunnel appeared to be coming to an end. I did not expect what happened next, without any warning what so ever, the curator, grab my jacket by my left shoulder and stepping sideways, entered into a slot in the wall, on the left hand side, and literally, dragged me through this slot in the wall sideways, as the slot in the wall was that narrow, it was the only way you could get into the next tunnel. He called this, the “Keyway to Rite of Passage” as he put it. This tunnel now seemed endless and built with stunning precision, straight as a gun barrel, an all inspiring unforgettable event believe you me, and then some! We continued, walking in a southerly direction toward the pyramid to the south. As we walked he continued telling me about the mysteries of Thoth the Egyptian god of writing, magic, wisdom, and the moon. Who is also credited with the invention of geometry, astronomy and medicine, who could predict the eclipse of the Sun God RAH, we also discussed the great pharaohs of Egypt, the Great Pyramids, this man was an intellectual giant, of the highest caliber, it seemed like we had walked for miles, and while he spoke, I counted my paces to see how far we had walked, he then stopped and informed me that, we were now under the southern pyramid and could go no further due to protocol and etiquette, as mine was an impromptu visit on the spur of a moment, our “Rite of Passage” had ended here, we would need to turn around now and go back, which we did, he with his light and I with my precious eyes. When we got back to the “Keyway” and slipped sideways back, through the slot in the wall to the first passage, the passage we had left behind appeared to continued in a northerly direction, I assumed to the northern pyramid. At this stage I then asked the curator, was there a tunnel leading from the Sphinx to the pyramids? He said “no”, and then his face lit up, and he lifted his light so I could see his infectious smile, and with the wink of an eye he said, “but never discount it my brother never“, so obviously I took that as a Yes! I had now experienced, the energies and mysteries of the Great Pyramids, and so right was he, my Egyptian brother. The energies and feelings I had in the Great Pyramids that day, I would never forget, then we went down and visited the Sphinx, which he the curator gave me a brief history on the subject. He also told me, the Pyramids and the Sphinx where much older than history indicates and that history its self was wrong. Now what do you think about that? Footnote: These are the types of things I did when I got Leave. I would jump on my bike and ride out to ancient historical sites in the Middle East on my own, to touch them with both hands in a display of utmost respect, to glean and learn about the mysteries of ancient Egypt and the Holy Lands. Got it!
Allow me to introduce you to my dear friend and wartime mentor.
Sir Roden Cutler VC, AK, KCMG, KCVO, CBE.
He was a gentleman in every sense of the word, Military Excellence Absolutely, a true tactician he also had an empathy and compassion for the men, a deep thinker highly and extremely intellectual ! He was steeped in courage and was driven with an unbridled will to defend freedom and liberty at any cost. Putting his life on the line Time and time again to prove it. And when Queen Elizabeth II Bestowed the office of High Commissioner upon him, his credentials where above and beyond the criteria required. Most of all his moral standing was beyond reproach a man of pure ethic, from a noble and likewise family. Dedicated to public life and driven by a will to serve the people, charitable in every sense of the word, Gifted with the virtues we all should possess. A most worthy recipient, indeed,
On certain occasions when Ro was passing through Sydney he would ring one of us [the officers] and arrange a get-together for a drink and something to eat, On various particular occasion at some of these events an invited guest who may never have had the pleasure of his company before, they would start to Address Row as Sir Roden Cutler straightaway Row would cut the conversation short, By quickly interjecting and say something to the effect of, no no no Drop all the formalities just call me Row !
Now you may ask why I have told you this story and the answer is simple and that is to say that was just the kind of bloke he was, Down to earth, and just one of the lads. [Officers] Got it !
Watching Footy
Now what the offices did on this occasion was set up a knockout football competition. The chosen game was Rugby League, and how they did it was as such, they made teams up of the country boys, and teams up of the city boys, this would make it more interesting Country against city, and the rest of the teams were a mixture of country and city boys. Then they started the knockout competition, and let me tell you, what a competition it was. The country boys won the most games; they were “Tuff as Teak” and at times appeared to be bullet – proof. Some of the officers were concerned the men could get injured some of the games became very vigorous and intense, especially when the men packed down into the scrums. However, that concern was put to rest simply because those men who got injured wore their injury like a badge of honour, and still manage to do their duties, and after the games were over, they were all the best of mates. There was never a case of any animosity, and always a beer and a celebration at the end of the day, and a few grogs to lubricate any injuries! Got it
Now take 13 men aside a Referee and two linesman, a good crowd of spectators and you had nothing less than a bloody good game of Rugby League Football and I do mean bloody, with nothing less than the will to win. In the photo you can see Row and I watching an intense game of Rugby league football with intensely, in the background you can see spectators arriving from their barracks or duties to watch and cheer on their mates from the sideline, or sit on a stand the engineers had built so you could sit down to watch the game and cheer on your favourite team, and that’s the end of the section, okay!
On arrival at the hospital in Cairo I requested, that the Doctors sew up the bullet wound in my left leg so it would not leave an ugly bullet mark, I did this simply because of the Secrecy Act, and this is what they did. They took all the rough edges from around the penetration hole, then they cut two vertical incisions, one above and one below, then they cleaned the wound and proceeded to sew the wound up from the centre out, when they finished it just look like I had caught my leg on barbed wire leaving a straight scare. When I got back home and was asked about it, that’s what I told them, I caught it on barbed wire. Being a man of very high ethics I was forced to fib due to the WW2 Secrecy Act. They did this procedure under local anaesthetic, I sat up and watched the whole show, now let me say this about the Australian Army Surgeons who are in my opinion amongst the best surgeons of all, of the highest calibre overall. So much so, that I continued to use them after the war in Macquarie Street Sydney. Of course this is only my opinion. Got it.
The Little Bugger Made It!
While I was in hospital in Cairo, the officers came to visit me and told me a story which goes like this, when the offices drove east to the end of the top step, they turned left and dove up a sloping incline back onto the Western Desert, in order to come back out onto the battlefield to give the order out to the line to Pull Back. And you may ask what were they greeted by when they drove up over the rise back onto the WESTERN DESERT? they were greeted by trucks screaming pass them heading for Cairo, one after the other. The Commanding Officer knew that the men on that line were being butchered, and knowing full well they would not budge an inch, without orders to do so, that the line would hold till the end just like GALLIPOLI! Got it. That the wounded and dying would have laid in wait for only one thing “the twist of the bayonet” so thank god I made it. I’ll just put it down to my guardian angel who I felt was with me throughout my entire military service. Do you now understand? They told me that the commanding officer then made the following statement as they came over the incline; he turned around with his eyes bulging out of his head and with a complete look of astonishment and amazement, he then exclaimed with a stutter: “TH THE LITTLE BUGGER MADE IT.“ He then screamed out the order “Head for Cairo“ Now you may ask what my reaction was when I was told this in hospital? I’ll tell you I pissed myself with tears of laughter, and then some, and the officers that informed of this, did nothing but copied my example. OK! No Cigar no Scotch and a morale boosting game of chess. While I was in hospital recovering, it was my observation that the mass morale of the men could be boosted with a little help with a game of chess, so I asked one of the orderlies to go and get my kit bag, so I could retrieve the chessmen I won on the Queen Mary, and have a game of chess or two. I decided to further lift the morale of my opponents by giving them an occasional advantage or two on the chessboard, and let me tell you it worked a treat, really lifting their morale. This technique was working real fine, until I came up against an opponent who I had played previously on the Queen Mary, I gave him a slight advantage on the chessboard he saw it and grab it with both hands, bingo, check mate. He then sat back in a relaxed position, with a big grin on his face he started to laugh, and said the following akin to this, don’t give me that “bullshit for boys” titch, remember, I played you on the Queen Mary at the start of the Chess tournament. you beat me three times straight, you gave me a ruthless ass kicking all over the chessboard, I wouldn’t have had a hope in hell of beating you on any chessboard, and with a chuckle he said something like the following, I think I know what you’re up to and you definitely lifted my morale in one way or another, so keep up the good work old mate, because it’s working. Comprendo.
Red eye Green eye
You ask me did I receive a moral boost while I was in hospital? The answer is yes. A few of the officers knew, I was a diehard South Sydney Rabbitoh Rugby league supporter, the red and greens, I had one red eye and one green eye so to speak. Theytold me that I ran to the line to give the order out, like a true Rabbitoh man, and let me tell you in no uncertain manner, that compliment really made my day in more ways than I can ever explain. I have been a Rabbitoh supporter ever since I was achild, and all of my life loved and supported the Bunnies, that Rugby League football team. I also instructed my family that when I was buried I wanted to be buried with something Red and Green. Got It.
Footnote: A red and green scarf was wrapped around his neck on the occasion of his funeral.
Retreat or Pullback.
Now let me explain to the ill informed the difference between a pull back and a retreat, a retreat is when men abandon their post without an order, a pullback happens when the pull back order reaches the line then the men follow the order. On that day we pulled back, we did not retreat and furthermore every man on that line would ‘have stayed there on that line, to the last man if the order to pullback had not come, also the fact that I was the officer who carried the order to pull back, and I made it to the line, and gave the order out, So this will put an end to the word retreat once and for all, The down side of this was, that some of the officers on that day were put on the back bench after these events, which I felt was unwarranted! but there is no doubt in my mind that those officers made a courageous, and the right decision, and there was no Gallipoli in the western desert on that fateful day. “Titch’s Critique”. I also keep my word to every mother who belongs to the CWA of Australia. Got it! Re CWA Chapter.
“Never make war cause you never know where it will take you”
Titch
I was born, Alan Ellis Atkinson, on the second day of December 1914 at the start of the First World War. My mother’s name was Jeni Ellis and my father’s name was Harry Benjamin Atkinson. I was one of six siblings. I was about four years old, when the First World War ended, and I’d like you to know, I can still remember, people celebrating the end of the war. When I was 14 years old, I left school, got a job, and finished my education, at night school. At the age of 18, I joined the CMF (Commonwealth Military Force). When I had finished my examination; I showed it to an Officer. He was very impressed, he then informed me, that he considered me, officer material, and that this was the start of my military career, also that my high math levels made me perfect, for the artillery division. This was perfect for me I love big guns the bigger the better. “Got it!” Mathematical calculations was my Forté. I would do mathematical equations for fun to pass the time of day. A bit like Einstein! Over 50 years have passed since the World War II secrecies act was invoked. Now all the stories can be told of what took place and what happened. Tich’s memoirs cover over 25 chapters including the Western Desert, Syria and New Guinea. +150 photographs 11 aerial reconnaissance plane photographs and over 100 Studio Audio Recordings transcribed into text chapters plus interviews and conversations, conducted from the 92nd through to his 94th year of his life. These stories are not intended to glorify war, quite the contrary but to make anybody think again, should they ever wish to take such actions again. “You never know where war will take you”. Furthermore the stories are not intended to make any political statements. They are just stories, which may contain Titch’s critiques. If you don’t like that then you be the judge. “Got it!” In conclusion, I would like to say that, all who served their country during World War II, did so for one thing, and one thing only, and that was for freedom. As my late father was my commanding officer. He instructed me, that I should publish every story he told me, as he told me. So you must understand, I am therefore committed to publishing every story he has told me as correctly as possible, to the nth degree! In the last half an hour of his (Titch’s) life, I promised him that I would launch this project of his, compiling his memoirs, on his behalf.
