When the spark was ignited in July 1914, in Austria, which began the world wide conflagration called the Great War of 1914-1918, I was a very peaceful young man of 23 years of age, employed in my father’s general merchants business at Bingara, about forty miles from Inverell in the state of New South Wales, Australia. Prior to that date my greatest excitement was in playing football, shooting, swimming, cricket and other outdoor games and amusements of which I have always been very fond, while the thought of a war or what I should do in case a war were to break out never even occurred to me.

I was just over the age when compulsory training for the Commonwealth military, home forces was introduced so that there never was any need for me to consider the problems of war even if I had felt that way inclined, and to tell the truth the mere thought of taking a human life or facing shellfire and bayonets etc. used to send cold shivers down my spine.

Then there came a day in July when the act of violence was perpetrated by a lunatic in Austria, who killed an Archduke of whom no one ever heard tell, which act was used as an excuse for all the nations of the earth to fly at one another’s throats like dogs in a street dog fight. One of the dogs which decided to enter the scrap was the British bulldog and Australia being one of its pups, must also lend a hand in the great fight to the death, and so it came about that men came together from unheard of places, with unpronounceable names, in all parts of this great continent of ours and massed in training camps in various parts of the different states to be licked into shape for the fray on foreign shores.

At the time, I remember standing outside a printing office in Bingara, reading the “extra-ordinaries” as they were posted up, announcing the various phases of the negotiations in England, France and Germany and Russia, etc. and I remember feeling intensely excited and curious as to the result of it all, but at the same time the thought of enlisting never entered my head and even after England had declared for war and had been in the war a month, I still had no thought of enlisting. Then, one day about sixteen weeks after the beginning of the war, and the first shock and excitement had begun to wear off and the nation was beginning to settle down to the business of war, my best pal and friend Harold Mitchell, whom I had met in Glen Innes, wrote me from Glen Innes and asked me if I would care to enlist for active service abroad with him if he should pass the then very strict tests.

This proposal came rather as a shock to me and set me thinking hard, and I thought hard for about a week before I replied, and during that week I thought and imagined and turned the thing over in my mind night and day but could not for the “life of me” arrive at any definite decision. One moment I felt I should, and the next I reckoned that there was no need to do so. Then I would reproach myself for being a coward, and after that I would think that I would enlist and perhaps the war would be over before I arrived at the scene of action. But arrive at a decision I could not.

However, one day at dinner when my sisters and I were talking about those who had enlisted and decided to enlist, one of my sisters asked me point blank why I did not go down to the depot and enlist, which gave me a further qualm of conscience, as it left no room to doubt but that my own family considered that I should offer my services.

After thinking about the matter for another few days, I threw all my doubts and fears to the winds and replied to Harold Mitchell’s letter, saying that if he enlisted and was passed I would go to the recruiting office and do likewise; but I was quite pleased when I received his next letter saying that he had volunteered but was not passed and there was no likelihood of getting through for some months until the standard of fitness was lowered considerably, which left me a few months more to brace myself up for the ordeal when the day should come.

I may say right here that at this time I had an haunting fear that I was a coward at heart and that I would probably breakdown under fire and be shot as a deserter or some such horrible thing like that, which I know now was the result of a rather vivid imagination and a total ignorance of what war was. I had an idea that when soldiers went to war they were continually fighting with bullet and bayonet and were killing one another most of the time, and when they were not engaged thus, were suffering from starvation, sickness and thirst, etc. and I honestly did not feel as if I could bear such trials and tribulations.

About this time the war had been raging for about nine months and I had not enlisted although I had fully made up my mind to enlist when Harold Mitchell was able to pass the tests which were still as rigid as ever, especially in the case of bad teeth, of which he had a full set of artificial ones. It was at this time also, that I left my father’s employ and went back to work with my old firm at Messrs. McKenzie & Co. Ltd. of Glen Innes and remained with them for another five months, during which time Harold made two more attempts pass the doctor without avail.

Then one Saturday night early in September, 1915, Harold came into the store looking very pleased and informed me that he had been passed for active service that afternoon and was going into camp very shortly, which meant that it was now up to me to fulfil my promise.

Seeing that I had given my word to that effect and not liking to break my word at any time, I realised that the day had come when I must go and do what thousands of young men had already done during the past fourteen months, and so, on the Sunday morning, we both went down to Dr. Arthur McKenzie’s residence in West Ave. Glen Innes, and I underwent the necessary examination and needless to state, passed easily and was accepted.