A Whizz Bang from Salisbury
Plain

On a whim, I bought a little box of ephemera at an auction. I'm fascinated by how small, mundane items can open a door into what happened to our ancestors and how they lived their lives. 

 

First out of the box was a small white folded card, 9cm by 6cm. On the front is the Rising Sun insignia of the Australian Army. Inside, we find the signature of Dad, a soldier in the Australian Imperial Force, waiting for a ship to take him home to his loved ones after his service in World War 1.  

 

The AIF fought at Gallipoli (in modern day Turkey) in 1915, and then on the Western Front in France and Belgium from March 1916. 

 

The numbers are staggering. 

 

417,000 Australians enlisted in the Army during the war, 39% of the white male population aged between 18 and 44. (Indigenous Australians were barred until October 1917.) 332,000 men were sent overseas as part of the AIF. More than 2.000 women served with the AIF, mainly in the Australian Army Nursing Service.  

 

61,500 members of the AIF lost their lives, with another 137,000 wounded, an overall casualty rate of 65%. 

 

Like all members of the AIF, Dad was a volunteer, making his contribution all the more remarkable. Towards the end of the war, such was the casualty rate that the supply of volunteers began to slow. So, two referendums were held in Australia on the introduction of conscription, an opportunity not given to people in the UK.  Both were defeated. 

 

The little card reminds us how horrible the conflict was.  Whizz Bang was slang for the noise made by German shells fired from light or field artillery. As the shells travelled faster than the speed of sound, soldiers heard the “whizz” noise of the travelling shell before the “bang” of the gun itself.  As a result, defending infantrymen were given virtually no warning of incoming high-velocity artillery fire.

 

When the war ended, there was the herculean task of transporting back to Australia 155,000 men, plus 2000 nurses and 12,000 war brides and children. By May 1919, there were still 70,000 troops encamped on Salisbury Plain, but most had returned home by the end of 1919, and the last transport left London in April 1920. 

 

I hope Dad got home safely. I wonder who he was, and how his little card made it back to the UK?

 

If anyone thinks they can provide a good home for this little card, please get in touch via the website.