Almanac Life: A Digger’s Words
You might have seen Facebook plastered with an interesting fact. For people born in 1900, life was pretty grim. They lived through both World Wars, the Great Depression, the Korean War and the Cold War and the Vietnam War. A social media attempt to provide a little perspective about the situation that we currently find ourselves in; our ‘covid normal’.
It got me thinking of my great-grandfather, born in 1904. I have a picture of me as a piggy-tailed toddler, hanging from the hands of a giant, my great-grandfather, Jack Dodd. I don’t remember him, but vivid stories had been told, woven and spun, throughout my life. I feel I know the cadence of his deep voice and hearty laugh, and the kind of man he was. By all accounts, he was quite a bloke. An icon of his Goolwa community.
Jack Dodd in uniform
A renowned story teller, his profile was often in the local newspaper. I’m sure it’s his creative blood that runs through my veins. I was lucky enough to find a recording of his voice in an oral history interview in the State Library of Victoria. It was like striking gold. A prolific keeper of diaries throughout his time in the war in Tobruk, he has left a legacy that has reached into 2020.
The thing I cherish most though, is his collection of poems. A member of the Lighthorse in South Australia, Jack enlisted in WW2, against his wife’s wishes, at 35 years of age. The poetry that remains was written when he was thousands of miles away, in a desert tent, on the wafer-thin paper of the Red Cross. His diaries are a record of the monotony of daily soldier life; the mail, the food and the flies. Interspersed with the relative exhilaration of bombings and soldier movement. In stark contrast, his poems are full of larrikin humour and heart.
Jack deserves a novel written about his life and his time in Tobruk. It might come yet. But it’s his poems that I want to share with you. What better way to honour the man, than with the continuation of his words. Some of his poems are homages to his wife, others filled with comedy and cheek. But, given the importance of the medical fraternity in our current situation, today seems the right time to share the ones that he wrote of the Red Cross. The medical men and women who worked tirelessly overseas to help those fighting in the name of their country.
It does help. Knowing that Jack was dealing with a situation that was unknown and scary, but he got through it. We will too. In the meantime we can thank those who are on the front line and carry on.
Our Rose of Palestine
By J.S. Dodd
To the Holy land of Palestine
Where the wounded Aussies doze
There’s a slender bright-eyed sister
Who’s as pretty as a rose.
And her bright eyes as they twinkle
Melt the toughest Digger’s heart
While her happy smile goes with him
When the time comes to depart.
Just like a ray of sunshine
When the day is dull and cold
Her very presence warms us
And we know her heart’s pure gold
And she rules us like a Princess
With her happy gracious way
While we’re thinking up a plan
That will prolong our stay.
But we can’t stay sick forever
So we think it would be fine
If only we could come back later
To our Rose of Palestine.
Crosses
By J.S. Dodd
Each life has its crosses
And a soldier gets his share
From a trip across the ocean
To that envied Croix De Guerre.
There are crosses by the censor
Far too many so it seems,
There are crosses in his letters
From the girlfriend of his dreams.
There’s a cross that’s worn by heroes
Who faced a storm of lead
There’s a cross when he is wounded
And a cross when he is dead.
Then there’s that little cross of Mercy
That very few may own
To a soldier it is second
To that of God alone.
It’s a cross that’s worn by women
When we see it we believe
We recognise an Angel
By the Red Cross on her sleeve.
*Croix De Guerre – A French military decoration awarded in WW1 and WW2.
More stories from Nicole Kelly HERE
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Great story, loved your choice of grandpa’s poems.
Brought a tear to my eye with memories of this man mountain who was a real larrikin at times but obviously a very sensitive soul. Known as the “mayor” of Goolwa by many, I was told by a Goolwa resident that he could walk with paupers & walk with kings & never be out of place!
I remember him as a real character, & deeply loved.
Thanks for the memories.
Thank you for that. My father was at Tobruk, perhaps in the same SA Battalion, so it resonates.
Just wonderful, Nicole.
I cannot begin to imagine how you felt when you heard that recording of his voice.
A touching piece, Nicole – with some lovely poems, to boot!
Thanks for the comments. It’s always a pleasure to write about family!
Lee – grandpa was the 2/10th Battalion. Was that your father’s Battalion?
Wonderful piece Nicole.
Superb Nicole, loved the poems, thanks for sharing!
2/48th, Nicole.
Love it Nicole.
Those Red Cross people and the nurses working in the hospital tents must, indeed, have been like an angel to a wounded soldier.
Terrific piece Nicole. From what I’m led to believe, you had at least two other great grandfathers who served. They went off to World War I. What about the fourth one?
Great to have that recording too.
Lovely piece all round. The sentiments in your article are timely and apt. The discovery of Mr. Dodd’s voice on a recording must have been a thrill for you Nicole. The poems are so readable for me who is not an avid poetry follower. Thank you for posting.
Thanks John. Yes, Edward Whitelaw enlisted in the 9th Lighthorse in 1916 and John O’Brien O’Callaghan in the 10th Infantry Battalion on 19th August 1914, only 15 days after war was declared!
My other great-grandfather was in England and lucky to escape serving by being only 17 when WW1 ended!
Hi Nicole
Having spent the last 18 months or so (on and off) transcribing my Mum and Dad’s letters to each other from 1943-1945 when Dad was in the Army (nearly 500 of them), your piece certainly resonates. My Dad too wrote poetry, so thank you! Maybe you should write your great-grandfather’s story!
What a labour of love, Jan. It must be beautiful to read the words he wrote to her. Very special.
Brilliant work keep it says Jack’s daughter Rae Reynolds she loved seeing the paper that was sent to her
Thanks Nicole he was one of a kind