Sapper Gerald Mcandrew

Sapper Gerald McAndrew

No. 203

Many an A.I.F. recruit had the nature of his active service determined by his pre-enlistment occupation. Such was the case for Jesse Acton (Gerald) McAndrew. Born in Kangaroo Valley 13 November 1895, the son of John Henry and Fanny (nee Brain) McAndrew, Gerald was 19 years of age when he joined up on 9 August 1915. Most of his working days had been labouring on dairy farms with his father but importantly he had also worked at the Tongarra Colliery on the escarpment south of Dapto. At 5’7½” his smaller stature suited working mine seams.

He was a healthy 11stone (70kgs).

Because of this underground mining experience Gerald was assigned to the 1st Mining Corps.

Their training took place at the Liverpool and Casula camps in Sydney’s west, the senior officer cadre drawn from the managers, engineers and mine surveyors of the mining centres of NSW, Victoria, Western Australia and Queensland.

The European conflict had reached a stalemate with the opposing armies lining 650 kilometres of trenches separated by a few metres of shattered earth and barbed wire entanglements. Flanking manoeuvres had failed and any dreams of mobility were lost. Paradigms shifted - cavalry and lancer units became obsolete overnight, artillery dominated the battlefield, new technology and mass production begat killing on an industrial scale.

British miners and tunnellers now worked desperately in a silent and terrifying duel to undermine the enemy and to protect their own lines from like-minded Germans. Australian and Canadian mining corps were now to be assembled to join the fight.

Gerald went into the Casula Military Camp near Liverpool and joined other ranks in learning to be a soldier and to further his mining skills. The monotony of drill and parade did not impress him but the lively company of miners from all over the country was energising. They shared mining techniques and procedures, and were introduced to the plant and equipment that would be a part of their work. The secret “Wombat Borer” was interesting but crude, and of limited benefit to those with mining experience.

To everyone’s surprise the miners did not take part in the infamous Casula Camp strike on 14 February 1916. Fed up with the poor conditions at the camp recruits refused orders for extended military training that day and marched into Liverpool and Sydney. As many as 15000 recruits stormed out of the many camps, besieged hotels, looted and vandalised buildings and property. 1000 recruits faced court-martial in what was described as the most disgraceful episode in Australia’s military history.

By the time he had finished his training Gerald knew that he was too late for Gallipoli and that service in France lay before him.

The Mining Corps was woken at 5am on 19 February and left Liverpool by train for Sydney’s Central Station. They paraded in the Domain before bivouacking overnight at the Sydney Agricultural Show Grounds. The cool sea breezes were welcome after an otherwise hot day.

Gerald embarked on 20 February 1916 with 1200 men of the “Miners Battalion” from Woolloomooloo on the HMAT Ulysses (A38) after a brisk march through cheering crowds in the Sydney Domain. A comfortable passenger liner before the war, the Ulysses was now crowded with 2200 men and headed for the Indian Ocean via Melbourne and Fremantle.

The journey however did not start with any great success as the Ulysses duly ran aground on uncharted rocks when departing Fremantle and required repairs to sprung plates and loosened rivets. The soldiers renamed her the Useless.

They were removed to the Blackboy Hill Camp for a further month of training.

Four teenage stow-aways were discovered and offloaded before the Ulysses sailed. The journey across the Indian Ocean was then uneventful, but filled with routine drill, exercise and endless lectures by senior officers. The men went about making lifetime mates.

Miners are known for having a mind of their own and a healthy disregard for authority and so this military service was the start of many adventures.

The Ulysses docked at Alexandria on the first anniversary of the Gallipoli Landing, but was again deemed unseaworthy despite the repairs in Perth. The men in harbour were transferred to the Astonia but were unhappy with the news that shore leave was not permitted. 117 ignore the order and went over the side, headed for town like a mob of unsupervised schoolboys. They were skilfully intercepted by a British provost marshal who hoodwinked them. Major Tannant David, geologist and co-founder of the ATC wrote of the incident:

“… the sappers were met by some charabancs (trucks) driven by genial gentlemen who offered them a lift. The offer of course was duly accepted, and presently the vehicles swung into a courtyard, the gates of which were promptly closed, and the sapper realised they were prisoners. In the early dawn (of the next morning) an SOS came from the military police to our ship saying that the sappers were tunnelling under the walls …send up a strong-armed party at once and remove the prisoners.”

From the Middle East they zigzagged the Mediterranean fearful of prowling German submarines. Two days in Malta gave most of the Australians their first international experience. They relished the local cuisine – thick vegetable soups, spaghetti and seafood. “Underground mutton” was also common – rabbit.

Gerald set foot in western Europe on 5 May 1916 and entrained through the verdant French countryside to a final destination of Hazebrouck at 11am on 8 May. During their journey they had seen the Eiffel Tower in the distance but now the countryside had the appearance of one enormous military camp. The rumble of distant guns echoed to the east.

On reaching the lines the Australians were met with the realities of the western front and the paralysis of trench warfare. The Mining Corps were now split into three Tunnelling Companies, Gerald assigned to the 1st Australian Tunnelling Company (1st ATC). The men had fashioned their own distinctive colour patches for the tunnelling companies. Gerald sewed a purple “T” with the number “1” onto the shoulder of his uniform.

The three ATC’s were assigned to the frontline areas around Armentiéres with Gerald’s 1st ATC operating to the north of the town. They boarded camouflaged London buses on 15 May and headed for Armentiéres. On arrival in the shattered town they were amazed to see townsfolk openly moving around despite the conflict raging nearby. The town square featured a shell damaged town clock. The square was known colloquially as Half Past Eleven Square, the time that the hands had frozen when the clock had stopped when struck by a shell.

The British welcomed these new mining companies as their own ranks of miners were not being replaced. Coal supply from their own mines was a war priority.

The 1st ATC was deployed at Hill 63 in front of Messines until November 1916 digging underground dugouts for the accommodation of two complete battalions – 1200 men. The tunnellers called it the Wallangarra Dugout, the Hole in the Hill, although it was more generally known as The Catacombs. A large kangaroo silhouette sat above one of the portals. The commanders welcomed the 1st ATC to this vital task as it provided the restless Australians with an opportunity to work off their energies. Hand pumping and listening were not for these Diggers.

Bert Parrish arrived at The Catacombs on 13 May 1917 with the 39th Battalion and described the shelter. He was glad for the sanctuary Gerald had provided:

“Resting most of the day underground. Three tunnels have been driven into this hill almost 100 yards apart and they are all again connected, then again driven further into the hill, and connected, with the result that about 1000 men can be found comfortable room. The galleries are all lit up with electric light. The air is foul to a certain extent but it is perfectly safe from shells.”

And the following day:

“Got back to the catacombs at 2pm. Went out with a working party at night to dig a trench near No Mans Land. All went well until about 1am when the German shelled us heavily with shrapnel and we had to clear out. Got back at 3am.”

After Hill 63 came Hill 60 near the ancient Belgium town of Ypres.

Hill 60 had a notorious reputation for savagery and many hundreds of lives had already been lost to its dark, wet and treacherous workings.

Damien Finlayson wrote in Crumps and Camouflets:

“Hill 60 was one of those select locations on the Western Front that claimed legendary status in the annals of the First World War.

The salient itself was a place of notorious hardship and unmitigated misery …

By 1916 the salient resembled a lunar landscape, devoid of life or any sight pleasing to the human eye.”

Unlike the image at right many of the forward galleries were only 4’4” by 2’2” (1.3m x 0.65m) in dimensions, the air was hot and fetid and often poisonous, and everything was done by candlelight.

The constant nervous tension was fed with beef, tea and rum. Men worked the face six hours on, and six hours off.

The pressing sensation of claustrophobia was heightened by the constant fear of roof collapse and the danger of German counter mining operations.

German miners were tunnelling with equal vigour and opposing tunnels were often separated by only 2-3 metres. The noise of their digging, movement and talking were often heard as the miners sought out each other’s workings.

Many hand-to-hand battles were fought in these dark tunnels when German counter mining breached the workings of the Australian tunnellers.

The Germans also kept up a relentless barrage of explosive and gas shells onto the Allied frontline around Hill 60. There was little relief from fear or danger.

Roy MacLeod, author of Phantom Soldiers was to write:

“While relieved in sections, the Australian tunnelling companies were destined never to leave the front.

By November 1916, the miners had established a daily routine. Along the sectors belonging to the 1st and 2nd ATCs, miners sallied under No Mans Land with bombs and mobile charges of 13.6kg of ammonal, sometimes being gassed by carbon monoxide and methane in the process.”

So it was for Gerald, so seriously affected by mine gas while working underground at Hill 60 on 12 November 1916 that he was evacuated from the frontline for almost three months.

The ventilation in the tunnels was crude and always poor, contaminated by fumes, dust, sweat and moisture. Worse still the atmosphere was often contaminated with the gaseous products of the explosion of mines and camouflets – the most insidious gas being carbon monoxide.

Colourless, odourless and tasteless, it is poisonous in small concentrations and has an accumulative effect in the body. Short term exposure would bring on headaches, dizziness and confusion. The toxicity from longer exposure can affect the heart and nervous system, resulting in unconsciousness and death. The gas could seep into and linger in the chalk walls of the tunnels. On average three men would become gas casualties each day. Canaries in cages were used as an early indication of the presence of an irrespirable atmosphere.

Gerald was firstly evacuated to hospital at Boulogne for treatment and rest. He rejoined his unit eight weeks later but was only back in the field a week before his health failed in what was the most severe northern winter in 40 years. The underground conditions for the miners were no better than for the men in the trenches.

He again spent some weeks in hospital at Boulogne before being transferred to the Lakeham Military Hospital in England. Debilitating bouts of bronchitis and laryngitis would keep him hospitalised for a further three months of treatment and convalescence. His records do not state but this incapacity and his later illness indicate that he was likely exposed to chlorine or mustard gas from German shellfire. He was bedridden for six weeks while both lungs played a concert of rattles, wheezes and whistles. He was also experiencing tachycardia (rapid heart rate).

On discharge from hospital he was marched into the Pioneer Depot at Perham Downs for training and further recuperation. That finished, Gerald rejoined his unit on 13 June 1917.

Though the surface offensive actions had slowed in his absence the underground war had continued uninterrupted in pursuit of the execution of one of the most critical British offensives of the war.

From 4 November 1916 tunnels were extended by the ATC’s in support of the Battle of Messines (7-10 June 1917) where 19 mines were detonated under the German lines along the Messines Ridge. The simultaneous explosions at 3.10am that morning were the largest man-made explosion ever to date, and were so violent they were said to be heard by British Prime Minister Lloyd George in his Downing Street study in London 130 miles away. Some 460 tonnes of explosives, mainly ammonal, were detonated in chambers directly below the German positions on Messines Ridge. Great sections of the German frontline were destroyed, some 10,000 German soldiers killed and thousands more wounded and captured. To add to the horror, 2400 British artillery guns fired nearly six million shells into the German lines. General Plumer had told his staff the night before:

”Gentlemen, we may not make history tomorrow, but we will certainly change the geography.”

By nightfall the British had achieved most of their objectives. The operation was such a success that the dreaded Ypres salient ceased to exist and the strategically important Messines Ridge was taken.

This operation marked the end of mining activities for the ATC as the other points of conflict such as Passchendaele were unsuitable for offensive mining. The mining companies were thereafter used as engineering corps in the construction and repair of roads, bridges and other infrastructure. The work was no less dangerous however as they often had to work within sight of the enemy and under harassing shellfire. Gerald was slightly wounded here on 29 June with an unspecified arm wound but remained in the field. As if the warfare wasn’t bad enough, another freezing winter fell on Europe and the armies in the field.

Worse still, the illusion of a decisive breakthrough in Flanders was shattered when 12 Divisions of British, Australian and Canadian troops became mired in the cloying mud created by the October rains at Passchendaele.

The 1917-18 winter and earlier underground work had taken its toll on Gerald as he was to experience further ill health in January 1918. A welcome period of leave in London was spoiled by the onset of a painful infection in his left ear. Admitted to the Australian Auxiliary Hospital for observation on 22 January, medical orderlies shaved his head three weeks later and surgeons performed a radical mastoid operation that removed the infected eardrum and other structures.

Mastoiditis is usually a consequence of a middle ear infection that may spread from the ear to the mastoid bone of the skull. The mastoid bone fills with infected materials and its structure deteriorates. Before antibiotics, mastoiditis was one of the leading causes of death in children. Today it is a relatively uncommon and much less dangerous disorder.

Gerald was now completely deaf in the left ear and further affected by headaches, tonsillitis, cellulitis (facial swelling) and a closed right eye. His kidney function was also a concern.

A gaggle of doctors and senior officers reviewed McAndrew’s case in the following weeks and agreed that his incapacity was permanent and recommended his return to Australia for home service. Gerald embarked from Weymouth England on the “Gaika” and set foot back on Australian soil in Sydney on 7 July 1918.

The findings of his subsequent examination at the No.4 Australian General Hospital (now the Prince of Wales Hospital Randwick) on 24 July 1918 confirmed how war service had seriously debilitated this healthy young man. The Discharge Board found Gerald to be 75% permanently incapacitated as a consequence of his war service and recommended a discharge and pension.

Kangaroo Valley residents welcomed Gerald and Tom Harward home on 28 August 1918. Councillor John Nelson granted each a suitably inscribed gold medallion as a mark of the community’s gratitude for his service. He was discharged from the A.I.F. as medically unfit the next day.