Trooper Bluegum at the Dardanelles: Descriptive Narratives of the More Desperate Engagements on the Gallipoli PeninsulaHogue, Oliver
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Trooper Bluegum at the Dardanelles: Descriptive Narratives of the More Desperate Engagements on the Gallipoli Peninsula
Hogue, Oliver
World War, 1914-1918 -- Campaigns -- Turkey -- Gallipoli Peninsula; World War, 1914-1918 -- Personal narratives, Australian
The sun was just setting over the western rim of dear old Sydney town
when my turn came. The clouds were all gold and rose and amethyst, and
the whole scene was as peaceful as could be. The First Light Horse
Regiment--in fine fettle, ready at a moment's notice to sail for
Europe--cantering gaily back to camp, reminded us that the nation was
in a state of war, that the empire was engaged in a life and death
struggle, and that on the issue of the great conflict depended the
fate of Australia. And we of the Sixth Regiment were to make good the
"wastage of war."
So, solemnly, I kissed the Book and swore this oath: "I, James Bluegum,
swear that I will well and truly serve our Sovereign Lord the King in
the Australian Imperial Force from September 1914 until the end of the
war, and a further period of four months thereafter, unless sooner
lawfully discharged, dismissed, or removed therefrom; and that I will
resist His Majesty's enemies and cause His Majesty's peace to be kept
and maintained; and that I will in all matters appertaining to my
service faithfully discharge my duty according to law. So help me God."
I was a Soldier of the King!
Once more we were lined up and marched away to the quartermaster. Each
man was given a waterproof sheet, a pair of blankets, a knife, fork,
spoon, tin plate, and pannikin. We were to form part of the Second
Light Horse Brigade, and being minus tents we were relegated to the
stables. We raided the straw store, made beds, and lay upon them.
It was not ours to go with the first lot of heroes to take part in the
Great War. Most of us had waited till the Germans got within cannon
shot of Paris. Then we "butted in." We were selected to supply the
wastage--that was all. If we could not be the first in the firing-line,
it was something to know that we would take the place of the men
who were killed or wounded--all of us, the man from Narrandera, in
Riverina, the man from Hunter River, the men from out-back everywhere,
Trooper Bluegum among them, all whistling merrily "Soldiers of the
King, my Boys!"
We of the Light Horse started with many things in our favour. We
reckoned we could ride as well as, if not better than, any body of men
in the world, for we could ride almost as soon as we could walk. Also,
we were pretty good shots. Many were Rifle Club men. All had done a bit
of shooting in the bush, for dingoes and kangaroos and wallabies are
not yet extinct in Australia. So half of our lesson was learned before
we started. The drill and the discipline only remained. We did not mind
the drill, but the discipline was irksome.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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