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Anzac Day 25th April 2024

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Getting close to the 25th April - Anzac Day







































Edited by Buckshot Bear
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I hope this will open for our friends Down Under.

The ANZAC Book








His real name matters little; suffice it that he was known among his comrades as “Wallaby Joe.”

He came to Gallipoli via Egypt with the Light Horse. Incidentally, he had ridden nearly a thousand miles over sun-scorched, drought-stricken plains to join them.

Age about 38. In appearance the typical bushman. Tall and lean, but strong as a piece of hickory. A horseman from head to toe, and a dead shot. He possessed the usual bushy beard of the lonely prospector of the extreme backblocks. Out of deference to a delicate hint from his squadron commander he shaved it off, but resolved to let it grow again when the exigencies of active service should discount such finicking niceties.

His conversation was laconic in the extreme. When the occasion demanded it he could swear profusely, and in a most picturesque vein. When a bursting shell from a “75” on one occasion blew away a chunk of prime Berkshire which he was cooking for breakfast, his remarks were intensely original and illuminative.

He could also drink beer for indefinite periods, but seldom committed the vulgar error of becoming “tanked.” Not even that locality “east of Suez,” where, as the song tells us, “There ain’t no Ten Commandments and a man can raise a thirst,” could make his steps erratic.

He was very shy in the presence of the softer sex. On one occasion his unwary footsteps caused him some embarrassment. Feeling thirsty he turned[Pg 46] into one of those establishments, fairly common in Cairo, where the southern proprietors try to hide the villainous quality of their beer by bribing sundry young ladies of various nationalities and colours to give more high-class vaudeville turns. The aforementioned young ladies are aided and abetted by a coloured orchestra, one member of which manipulates the bagpipes.

A portly damsel had just concluded, amidst uproarious applause, the haunting strains of “Ta-ra-ra boom-de-ay.” She sidled up to Joe with a large-sized grin on her olive features.

“Gib it kiss,” she murmured, trying to look ravishing.

But Joe had fled.

Henceforth during his stay in Egypt he took his beer in a little Russian bar, the proprietor of which could speak English, and had been through the Russo-Japanese War.

When the Light Horse were ordered at last to the front, Joe took a sad farewell of his old bay mare. He was, as a rule, about as sentimental as a steamroller, but “leaving the old nag behind hurt some.”

On the Peninsula and under fire his sterling qualities were not long in coming to the surface. Living all his life in an environment in which the pick and shovel plays an important part he proved himself an adept at sapping and mining. At this game he was worth four ordinary men. No matter how circuitous the maze of trenches, he could find his way with ease. He could turn out all sorts of dishes from his daily rations of flour, bacon, jam, and of course the inevitable “bully” and biscuits. An endless amount of initiative showed itself in everything he did. His mates learned quite a lot of things just by watching him potter about the trenches and bivouacs. His training at the military camps of Australia and, later, in Egypt, combined with the knowledge he had been imbibing from Nature all his life, made him an ideal soldier.

He was used extensively by his officers as a scout. As the Turkish trenches were often not more than twenty yards from our own, needless to say the scouting was done at night, the Turks’ favourite time to attack being just before dawn. Often during these nocturnal excursions a slight rustle in the thick scrub would cause his mate to grasp his rifle with fixed bayonet and peer into the darkness, with strained eyes and ears and quickened pulse.

“A hare,” Joe would whisper, and probably advise him to take things easy while he himself watched.

This went on for some time until one night his mate came in alone, pale-faced and wild-eyed. Interrogated by the officer on duty, he informed him that Joe had been shot.

We brought the body in. He had been shot through the heart—a typical affair of outposts.

Tucked away in one of the innumerable gullies, a little grave, one among hundreds, contains the body of one of Nature’s grand men. On the wooden cross surmounting it is the following:

 No. 008 Trooper J. Redgum, 
  20th Australian Light Horse.
    Killed in Action.

W. R. C.,


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i love holding my 1915 BSA mkIII with its fixed 1910 mole hookie , there is something about grasping a bit of history even if only in your mind and only for an instant of thought , 


for those of you that dont know thats an early british SMLE enfeild rifle still wearing its early design features and a rare early P1907 bayonet , one of many combinations ive owned over the years , this primary example i still own  - rest are trainers 


OH , and this one is marked to the 3MD which indicates service in both world wars and my ausie folks will understand 

Edited by watab kid
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13 minutes ago, watab kid said:

i love holding my 1915 BSA mkIII with its fixed 1910 mole hookie , there is something about grasping a bit of history even if only in your mind and only for an instant of thought , 


for those of you that dont know thats an early british SMLE enfeild rifle still wearing its early design features and a rare early P1907 bayonet , one of many combinations ive owned over the years , this primary example i still own  - rest are trainers 


OH , and this one is marked to the 3MD which indicates service in both world wars and my ausie folks will understand 


dont speak of the ausie side of my family often as it goes back a few generations and i personally dont know a lot of them but my folks visited before the died , it was my great great grandfather and his brother that parted ways from scotland - my side migrated to canada and then south to arkansas - then back north much later 


the other side went to austrailia - im not at all familiar with them byt my mother researched - saught out and my foljks visited them back in the 70s - id like to do that but imnot sure that will ever happen , 

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When the Anzac's went to Gallipoli so did the troops of the British Indian Army.


ANZAC Corps Troops: 7th Indian Mountain Artillery Brigade (21st [Kohat] Battery and 26th [Jacob's] Battery)



The 29th Indian Brigade was attached to the ANZAC Corps for much of August:  https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/29th_Indian_Brigade


"Despite being synonymous with Australia and New Zealand, ANZAC was a multi-national body: in addition to the many British officers in the corps and division staffs, the Australian and New Zealand Army Corps contained, at various points, the 7th Brigade of the Indian Mountain Artillery, Ceylon Planters Rifle Corps troops, the Zion Mule Corps, several battalions from the Royal Naval Division, the British 13th (Western) Division, one brigade of the British 10th (Irish) Division and the 29th Indian Brigade."  


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  • Buckshot Bear changed the title to Anzac Day 25th April 2024
Anzac Day 2024
Dad was in the A.I.F 2/7th Commando's. he did his Commando Training at the Guerrilla Warfare School at Wilsons Promontory in Victoria and Queensland before shipping out to New Guinea, the 2/7th Commando Company was formed in May of 1942. They all signed that they would undertake suicide missions if asked.
He was a forward scout for his section, the day he turned 19 in the jungles of New Guinea they defeated numerous frontal Japanese attacks and he saw almost continuous heavy action against the Japanese in the Ramu Valley, Wewak, Wau and Bena where the 2/7th Commandos conducted long range patrol and reconnaissance operations to harass the Japanese.
The Commando Companies were at first issued Thompson .45acp caliber submachine guns. Later they were issued the Owen Submachine gun in 9mm caliber. The Commandos didn't favour them as they didn't have the stopping power of the bigger .45acp round, every time they came in contact with and American unit who were fascinated with the Owens, they quickly did trades of their Owens for Thompsons.
He brought home two Samurai swords taken from two dead Japanese officers, even though the two swords lived on top of their wardrobe Mum was always terrified my older brothers would get them down and hurt themselves, so Dad donated them to Bomaderry RSL and they were in the foyer until the RSL closed down.
He came home with a lot health problems and was in and out of Concord Repatriation Hospital a lot through my childhood.
Mums only sibling her brother Ron was a Corporal in the RAAF and was shot down by a Japanese Zero over the coast of Rabaul, there were no survivors and a rescue plane only found an oil slick on the water where his bomber and crew went down.
My Grandfather (Mums Dad) was a Sergeant in the RAAF at the time he lost his only son, he later went onto become a Wing Commander in the RAAF.
The Australian Govt gave my Grandmother (Mums Mother) the medal to denote that she had given one son for Australia.
My Dad's great Uncle was an Australian Trooper in the Boer War (I have his spurs).
My Dad's Uncle was gassed in the trenches in France in WWI, he was repatriated back to Australia and lived only to 35.
My Dad's brother also was in the A.I.F and served in New Guinea.
Dad's cousin was in the A.I.F and a Rat of Tobruk.
My brother was in 1 Commando Company (1 Cdo Coy).
My nephew was an Australian Artillery Army Captain and served in Iraq.
A note - The Family business was Dale & Sons Tannery in Botany started in Armidale in 1887 and moved to Botany in 1898, because leather was such an important item for Australia's war effort it was a protected industry, meaning that non of the workers had to enlist.
All my relatives working at the Tannery through all of Australia's conflicts signed up and served.
The photos below are of Dad's medals and the hat band with the 'Double Diamond' patch off his slouch hat that he wore in New Guinea.
Photo of my Uncle Ron and Grandfather Stan and their medals.
Plaque commemorating Ron's sacrifice.
The medal 'awarded' to my grandmother for her sacrifice of her only son.
My brother Gary Dale.
My nephew Cooper Dale.
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