The Other Side of the Trench. G. S. Willmott

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      ‘Come on, mate, I can still hear the poor bastards moaning let’s try one more time’.

      As they crawled out they came across a digger who was hurt very badly. They needed both of them to get him back when they noticed a German soldier whom they assumed, was dead, until he lifted his rifle and aimed it at them. Harry reacted instantly and thrust his bayonet into the German’s chest. He died instantly the blade penetrated his heart. Harry pulled off his dog tag and stuffed it in his pocket to hand in to the Red Cross for identification. He also took his wallet. He had just killed someone’s son; surely his family deserved the dog tag and personal papers. They got the soldier back to their trench and the medics took him.

      Both Paddy and Harry were recommended for the Military Medal for bravery and gallantry in the field. They had rescued eight Diggers that day.

      Harry sat down in the trench, utterly exhausted; he pulled out the dog tag and the dead soldier’s identification papers contained in a battered leather wallet. He was shocked when he read the name “ “Helmut Iffinger.” That was his Grandfather’s family name; a very unusual German name from the village of Neckargemünd, near Heidelberg. He could have just killed a relative, one of his own kin. ‘ Oh My God!’

      The following day Harry and the whole 5th Battalion were ordered to attack the German defences again. They were all exhausted having been in battle for weeks contending with the constant rain, the mud, the rats and the shelling as well as the German bullets. Their officers told them that this was the last attack before the Canadians came to relieve them.

      Harry decided he should write a quick letter to Emma:

      My darling Emma,

       I am about to go out there again but this time I know it will be the last time for a while they are going to relieve us and give the Canadians a go.

       I am well and looking forward to some R&R especially a bath and wash my uniform. I don’t think you would like the look of me right now.

       I really hope this war ends soon and we can all come home. I cannot wait to see you and hold you close again my darling.

       I have to go they have given us the five-minute notice call.

       I love you with all my heart.

       Love

       Harry

      Harry, Bluey and the other Diggers heard the whistle and clambered over the top. It was hard going in the mud and the ground was pock- marked with shell craters. As usual the noise was deafening; just when Harry was looking for some cover, a German shell exploded and Harry was thrown into a crater. He lie there feeling the warm blood oozing from his wounds and then nothing. Harry awoke to Paddy slapping his face and yelling at him. Harry was still alive. Bluey carried him back to the Trench and the Medics took him immediately.

      Victoria Dock to Prince’s Park

      Chapter 3

      1899

      As Harry lie there on the stretcher he dreamed of his life thus far or was it a dream? Would this field hospital at Ypres be where he would die? Harry’s unconscious mind took him back to Melbourne, Australia.

      Melbourne 1901

      The day was dull with the promise of rain; Harry hated playing in the rain especially at his home ground, Princes Park, the home of Carlton. It held the water and made playing conditions very unpleasant.

      This was to be his last game with Carlton; he had played all year with them but now he was heading back to his beloved Port Melbourne and all his mates. It wasn’t that he did not like playing with Carlton, despite their recent form slump; it was more to do with enjoyment and the comradery. He felt at home back at Port.

      It was going to be a tough match against the old foe, Collingwood. Little did he know that his opponent from Collingwood playing at half forward flank, Paddy Rowan, would end up being his “brother in arms” and a great mate.

      Harry’s last game ended with a loss and Collingwood went on to win the premiership that year. Harry’s parents lived in Ballarat for the first part of their marriage and that is where Harry was born. Gold was discovered at Poverty Point, (ironic) in 1851 by John Dunlop and James Regan who found a few ounces while panning in Canadian Creek. By the following year there were around 20,000 diggers searching in the shafts of the Ballarat Goldfields. Due to this population explosion, Ballarat was proclaimed a town in 1852. By 1855, Ballarat was a municipality, a borough by 1863 and a city in 1870.

      Harry’s father, James, was a carpenter but he decided the way to make some real money was to join the thousands of hopefuls on the goldfields. He laboured for twelve hours a day, six days a week and after two years of gold digging he decided to move back to Melbourne. He earned about forty percent of what he would have earned as a carpenter in Melbourne if he had stayed and far less than he would have made using his trade, building Ballarat’s four hundred odd pubs and many other buildings in and around Ballarat.

      He and his wife, Annie, moved into a three-bedroom cottage in Northcote located about seven kilometres from the city of Melbourne and Jim got a job as a carpenter working for Carlton United Breweries.

      Things went pretty well from there on and they started to build their family. When they had finished building they had six children, Harry was born in 1879, the last child born.

      Harry was not an exceptional child academically but showed a strong trait of determination and will power, which would serve him well in his later years. He left Northcote Primary when he completed year six and went to work as a labourer at the Victoria Docks at the age of fourteen, a tough learning experience for such a young boy.

      Harry was given the address where he was to report to on his first day at the docks. It was a small office, which was located on the pier. He gingerly knocked and a gruff voice commanded him to ‘enter.’ He opened the office door and looked inside.

      ‘Don’t just stand their lad! Get your skinny arse inside and let me take a look at you.’

      Harry did as he was commanded to do. Behind a desk was a very large man with a huge beard, Harry had never seen a beard like it, and it made the man look very intimidating to young Harry.

      ‘Well what’s your name son?’ he bellowed

      ‘Harry Daniel Sir’

      ‘Sounds like you have two first names. That’s bloody stupid. I have you on my list to start as labourer, is that right?’

      ‘Yes Sir’

      ‘Have you done any hard work before, son?’

      ‘Well, Sir, I had a paper round for a couple of years.’

      ‘A bloody paper round! Sitting on your skinny arse riding a bicycle around, delivering papers is not my view of hard work. Do you know what I consider hard work Daniel, Harry or whatever your bloody name is?’

      ‘No Sir.’ Harry was really starting to regret turning up for this job.

      ‘Arriving at the Dock at 6am, unloading a bloody great big ship, stacking the boxes so a heavy wagon can take them and deliver them to all sorts of places. Your hands СКАЧАТЬ