Rebellious diggers

Military unrest in World War 2

By TOM O’LINCOLN

 

Australia was supposed to have a less oppressive and class-ridden military than its British equivalent. Fighting under a Labor government, the troops in World War II might have expected an even more egalitarian military regime. But it wasn’t like that at all. (What follows is part of an unpublished manuscript.)

 

Mark Johnston’s review of regimental histories and soldiers’ diaries shows how badly the military  treated its rank and file. According to Private Currie, one sergeant informed a group of recruits that ‘we were leaving behind our civilian life and name to become just a number in the army’. Regarding living conditions, Private Holt wrote: ‘The army idea seems to be to make the soldier live like an animal, and he’ll fight like one’.  Soldiers returning to South Australia on leave were delighted when billeted with civilians, who ‘gave us beds with sheets, even though the army officers told them to leave all the furniture out and leave the room bare for us. We felt like human beings again.’ (Emphasis added.)

 

Officers had it far better, and this inequality was another source of grievance. The higher-ups tended to come from privileged backgrounds. Joan Beaumont’s analysis of ‘Gull Force’, which documents men’s previous jobs, shows almost 30 per cent of officers came from professional, managerial or executive-type careers, compared to 3.6 per cent of privates. A further 59.3 per cent of officers came from supervisory and other non-manual jobs, compared with 8.6 per cent of privates. Close to half of privates had been unskilled manual workers. John Barrett’s survey of veterans likewise shows that nearly two-thirds of the commissioned officers came from amongst the higher-educated. 

 

This might have been a tolerable starting point in a meritocracy, but the fact was, if you were working class, you were usually stuck at the bottom no matter how well you performed. Even demonstrated leadership under fire didn’t ensure promotion. It was so hard for the lower ranks to move up that ‘there arose a bizarre situation where many experienced soldiers were led into action by officers who had never previously experienced battle.’

 

Rank brought privileges. Each officer had a batman (servant) about whom they often spoke in language ‘condescending and even redolent of the British upper class’.  Private Les Clothier reported on life aboard a ship in Cairns Harbour: ‘We had a sloppy stew for breakfast and sat on a dirty floor to eat it. As usual, the officers are in cabins and eat like civilised beings.’

 

Sexual policing could be cruel, especially for women. Ann Howard documents how a pregnant, unmarried AWAS member found herself

 

called up in front of everyone and discharged. She had to walk slowly across the large office floor with all eyes upon her. Typewriters stopped and everyone was silent. She left the building without one person speaking to her.

 

Another was

 

constantly given all the menial tasks. Some AWAS complained about her treatment and were told to mind their own business. It was obvious she was being punished for her condition. She disappeared one day without notice, no one knew where.

 

The military tried to combat any hint of sexual diversity, For example it confined battledress for women to defined occasions; and one AWAS colonel ‘wouldn’t have us in caps…She thought [caps] were masculine…She didn’t want us to look like men.’ Another discouraged (for females) ‘the sort of masculinity, you know, where people went around with their hands in their pockets and stood with their feet wide apart’. Military brass forbade women to ride motor cycles.

 

Resistance to sexual oppression in the military was generally covert, but in wider society there was sometimes open resistance to the repression handed out by Curtin’s State Labor colleagues. When Sydney police raided one edgy ball, they ordered a drag queen to get off the stage in mid-song. But ‘Melba put her hand on her hip and said, "Just supposing you come up and get me, you big bull."‘ This infuriated the officer and a melee ensued, until ‘Melba, with a triumphant yell, crowned the cop with a pot of flowers.’

 

Military life became a chronic, low-intensity class conflict. Contempt bubbled from below. A diary from the Middle East relates how ‘the officers give us the usual baloney and give orders and immediately contradict them…The more one sees of the officers in charge of us, the more readily comes the explanation of the Malayan and Singapore disasters.’ The troops cheered Stalin at film screenings, less from ideology than cheeky rebellion. ‘Nbody was really interested in Uncle Joe, but it annoyed the officers.’

 

There were more serious rebellions, and though only a minority are on the record, fictional accounts by Eric Lambert and other writers suggest they were widespread. There was a ‘minor strike’ on HMAS Perth in New York in August 1939, and a ‘sit-down’ strike the following July on HMAS Voyager. In late 1941 the captain of the Westralia ordered machine guns trained on rebellious seamen, and a further upheaval occurred on HMAS Pirie in June 1943. In one additional incident air force personnel made complaints and paid for them with prison terms. Grievances commonly concerned the behaviour of officers and the quality of food. On the Westralia seamen received rice and prunes to eat for three weeks, and finally jacked up when given the same for Christmas dinner.

 

Australian troops in Palestine in May 1940 staged a ‘rowdy demonstration’ about a new theatre with special seating for officers, which they saw as a class distinction. Another upheaval took place in the Northern Territory among military transport companies. In this case a crackdown on a two-up school and on minor misuse of official property provoked a march, which led to a riot. The crowd toppled a petrol bowser, overturned vehicles and ransacked the mess.  Disgruntlement over delayed leave provoked trouble on Morotai, where in January 1946 soldiers and junior NCOs staged an unauthorised parade.

 

Dissatisfaction was rife on the Atherton Tablelands near Cairns, where the military brought large numbers of troops together for training exercises. Authorities complained about ‘disturbances and disorderly conduct’ at the cinema, and according to Bob ‘Hooker’ Holt’s diary, some of the men:

 

reckoned they were being treated like dogs, so at Retreat they began to bark like dogs.  The idea took on like wildfire…fantly at first, you could hear the yapping and barking from far away units and then louder, until it reached our camp. We would take up the call and then it could be heard fading away into the distance.

 

One company on the Tablelands ‘refused to carry out its duties ‘ an event veterans later variously described as a rebellion, strike, riot or incident’ when they were paraded as part of an investigation into a clash with an officer.

 

In Western Australia in 1942, there were strikes against ‘brass-hatted stupidity’ and curtailment of leave. At one army camp, soldiers conducted a sit-down strike for a day and a half, at another 2-3,000 troops held mass meetings and boycotted parades, and a strike occurred at a third camp. And at the end of the war, troops held mass protests at the lack of ships to bring them home. Anecdotally there was even some talk of attempting armed seizures of ships.

 

There was plenty more stubborn resistance; as illustrated by one soldier’s experience on an AIF parade ground:

 

today we sure have been fighting for our rights…They started giving us drill this morning. We were not in a very good mood. So we went as slow as possible…The Lieut tried to march us about but we only moved at a crawl…so he gave the about turn to head us back from camp again. But this time we had him in a good place to make a fool of him…Instead of turning round and going where he wanted us to go, we broke off and headed in all directions.

 

Given this rich history, it’s surprising that Johnston plays down the scale of insubordination. ‘The norm was fatalistic submission, not enthusiasm or insubordination,’ he writes. But this was partly because repression was so savage in a military setting that, in Johnston’s words, ‘the basic foundation was fear of punishment’.  Soldiers described the typical commander, only half in jest, as ‘held in respect by majors, awe by captains, fear, by lieutenants, and fear and trembling by other ranks…After the war they usually become members of exclusive clubs and are attacked by gout.’

 

Even keeping a diary was mildly subversive, since the brass forbade them for security reasons.

 

So aggressive indiscipline was relatively rare, but it was still common enough to make an impression. The Provost Marshall reported in November 1942 that only 89 assaults had been made on MPs in the course of 33,000 arrests between April and September. But this still shows military authorities made many thousands of arrests, and MPs experienced 89 assaults in just six months.

 

Much of the conflict between Australian and American servicemen turns out, on closer examination, to have originated in a common discontent about the authorities. On one occasion, Australians picketed MacArthur’s headquarters until he agreed to give them access to American PX stores. A report to Blamey about the notorious clashes in Brisbane refers to ‘brawls between groups of American and Australian troops or, less frequently between Americans and Australians together against the Military Police, whether American or Australian.’ (Emphasis added.)

 

The class system which angered soldiers in the field was just as irksome in the POW camps. MacDougal’s Farm, Eric Lambert’s account based closely on real life experiences, mentions many officers in Changi who ‘never came near their men but spent their time parleying with the Japs to make their own imprisonment as comfortable as possible.’  Lambert adds later ‘To this day, you can encounter former POWs of the Japs who bitterly blame their officers for the horrors inflicted on them’ Later still he says: ‘Never has the absurd snobbery and class distinction of the army been so clearly demonstrated’ as on the Burma-Thailand Railway.

 

In Bandung prison, men booed a parade of Australian officers. When it emerged officers on Java would be paid, Weary Dunlop wanted them to contribute some of their pay to avoid a health crisis among the other ranks. Some officers resisted so strongly that ‘I left this melancholy affair in the lowest frame of mind imaginable and disgusted at the light in which Australian officers had been shown.’ Such behaviour ensured intense hostility from below. In Bandung prison, ‘The atmosphere had been sour and fragmented; the contempt for the abnormally large numbers of officers profoundly shocking.’ Leslie Poidevin writes (disapprovingly):

 

There were many men who were against the government … I’m not going to f-ing well do what he tells me. He is no longer my officer. The Japanese run this b-y camp’ were remarks which I heard often.

 

Stan Arneil’s One Mans War tells us the officers in his camp had far better conditions and rations than the ranks. ‘Surely these officers do not expect to be respected when they finally discard the uniform.’ Gavin McCormack says of one group of POWs sent to the  Burma-Thailand railway:

 

The 44 per cent death rate in ‘F’ Force as a whole sank to less than 1 per cent for Australian officers and between 2 and 2.5 per cent for British officers. The assumption must be that this was due to the officers’ exemption from work, even though some officers were on occasion made to work and some also chose to work, to relieve the burden on sick men by helping fill the quotas.

 

McCormack’s final point is important. It isn’t that all the officers were individually rotten, rather that a class system rendered an already miserable situation worse. Another reason why a digger’s lot was not a happy one.     

 

The Communists

 

Up to 4,000 Communists in the armed forces tried to balance supporting the war drive with challenging power structures. Their theory said they could combine the two. A 1943 party congress resolution insisted that ‘every activity leading to more democracy in the army is in line with the character of the war…the right to democratically set up soldiers’ committees and other service committees ought to exist in an anti-fascist army’. But in practice the war effort put sharp limits on the partys agitation:

 

The aim was not to undermine military discipline or to interfere with officers’ authority but to avoid ‘unnecessary discontent, unexplained driving of the troops, and loss of morale. 

 

The party had to operate in clandestine fashion in the military, but the Communists were ready for that after their experience of illegality during the Stalin-Hitler pact. The military authorities weren’t happy about this unofficial presence, but usually they put up with Communist organisation because it contributed to the war effort.  CPA members operated through both the unofficial journal Troppo Tribune and the official military paper Salt. In 1944 Troppo Tribune reported that in one unit, after

 

a hard struggle in the early stages to win the confidence of the men and the cooperation of the administration [the unit welfare committee] has become a force out of which have developed better conditions, improved amenities and morale, and greater efficiency.

 

Here we see clearly the ambiguities of the party’s work. Improved amenities were certainly an achievement, but greater efficiency in the military was a strange objective for Communists to focus on. They had set out to re-shape the war effort, but were also being re-shaped themselves.

 

They built a sizeable organization among the troops, with an extensive network of branches and co-ordinating structures. These existed both in Papua New Guinea -- with a district committee based on Port Moresby and local groups holding Marxist economics classes -- and in Australia. On the Atherton Tablelands the party held a major conference assembling some 50 branch delegates. The CPA initiated a petition for a ‘battle bonus’ which gathered 250,000 signatures, 50,000 of them from within the military.

 

Communists led the rank and file in battles with the brass. As Ted Bacon recalled:

 

Successful strikes without victimization of leaders were far more common than might be imagined by those who may believe a military bureaucracy is practically unbeatable. Refusals to parade until food or conditions were improved occurred in almost all training camps. The Communist concept that, for real anti-fascist success, the army must be transformed into a people’s army became so widely accepted that even the most anti-democratic commanders were compelled to move cautiously in their dealings with the rank and file.

 

This passage shows the level of unrest generally and the important role played by Communists, but also the modest content they now invested in the term ‘people’s army’. At the end of the war, when troops gathered on Labuan seethed with unrest at the lack of ships to take them home, Communists organized mass protests.  But they made no effort to develop the unrest in a revolutionary direction, even though the war was over, for by now the CPA had shed much of its revolutionary colouration.