Letters to Iona

The Bunyip Free Press of July 22, 1915 (see here) published these two letters from local soldiers, Will Clarkin and James Gully.

William Clarkin (SN 1522) was born in 1894, enlisted at Tynong on December 7, 1914 at the age of 21. He died of wounds in France on August 26, 1916. William is listed on the Cora Lynn War Memorial, see here, and the Iona Honor Board, see here. 

James Gully (SN 1167, SN sometimes indexed as 1147).  James, born in 1882, enlisted on September 28, 1914 at the age of 32.  James Returned to Australia December 3, 1918, for 'Special Leave' and was discharged on medical grounds in March 1919 - having been wounded with a gun shot in the shoulder and later wounded in the left thigh. He died in July 1931 at the Repatriation Hospital in Caulfield. 

LETTERS FROM WILL CLARKIN

Mr. William Clarkin, who some time ago was wounded at the Dardanelles, has sent the following letters to his relatives at Iona : -

No. 17 General Hospital, Alexandria.

I suppose you are wondering why I have not written lately. Well, you you see, two days after I wrote my last letter we were ordered off to the Dardanelles. We had to land under fire, but we got there alright. I was about a fortnight in the trenches when I had the misfortune to get bowled over. I have been in the hospital for about three weeks, but I will soon be out again. We were ordered to take a good position that the Turks held, so about 1 o'clock in the morning our company, along with three more, were ordered out to do it. 

The night was fairly dark, so we could not see the enemy too well. Anyway, it settled into a hand-to-hand go. I don't know exactly what happened, but a Turk must have got home on me with the butt end of his rifle, for I don't remember any more until I was picked up about 5 o'clock in the morning. My head felt as if it had been drawn (dragged) through a six-inch pipe, but I am getting as right as rain again. What makes it worse is that I went as deaf as a post. One of the drums of my car is broken but I can hear alright out of the other one. 

I suppose you get all the news over there. The Turks are a  treacherous lot. They take no prisoners, nor do they respect the Red Cross. But never mind, the war will soon be over, for news has just come that Italy will soon be into it. We get treated like kings over here - chicken for dinner every day and plenty of cigarettes. When we are discharged from hospital we are sent to a rest camp, where we pick our selves together again.

Some of the accommodation at the 17th General Hospital, Alexandria - where

William Clarkin was treated.

Tented accommodation of 17th British General Hospital established for treatment of casualties with serious wounds.

Australian War Memorial Image H00871

'Luna Park Convalescent Home', Heliopolis, 30/5/15.

Since I last wrote I have been shifted again, this time to a convalescent home about four miles out of Cairo. I don't know whether I will be sent to a rest camp or back to the front when I leave here; but I hope they will send me somewhere, for I am sick and tired of bed. Of course, I can walk about as good as ever, but you see, we are not allowed to leave the hospital. I suppose you hear all the war news. I wonder do they publish the casualty list; it must be a pretty big one. The Turks got home on our officers; there are only a few of them left.

The Convalescent Hospital in Heliopolis, where William Clarkin also received treatment.

It was called the 'Luna Park Convalescent Hospital' as it was located in the Palace Hotel at Heliopolis and an amusement park, called Luna Park, had been established in the grounds in 1911. 

Australian War Memorial P00229.007

Convalescent Camp, 4/6/15.

As we have not got to do anything here but keep our tents clean, I can write a bit more often; I was shifted out into the open-air tents to-day. It is far better in the tents. It is terribly hot in Egypt now; the hottest I have ever been in. It is no place to send wounded men. The wounds will not heal up, only on the inside; only a dry scab comes over the outside. An eye and ear specialist attends me; but I am afraid he can do nothing with my ear. My other one is about as right as can be. It affected my eyes, too, but they are as right as rain. The haze that rises from the sand in the hot weather affects everybody's eyes, and my eyes were a bit weak when I left for the Peninsula. 

The first batch of wounded men who were fixed up left for the front again last Wednesday week, I think we will be going back again on Wednesday. But don't worry about me; I will get through alright. You might not believe me, but there is a certain fascination about the firing line, although I am not too anxious to hear the shells all around a fellow, and he has got to sit as he can get. But, cheer up; I think next 'Xmas is going to be a real happy one.

* * *

PRIVATE JAMES GULLY

Mr. Gully, of Iona, received a short letter last Thursday from his son (Private James Gully), who was recently wounded at the Dardanelles.

Writing from the Base Hospital, Private Gully did not (or perhaps could not) state the extent of his injuries. He was eleven days in the firing line before he was wounded, and must have remained where he fell for some time, as afterwards he contracted pneumonia. Mr. Gully is anxiously awaiting another letter from Jim, whose younger brother has enlisted for active service, and is now in camp at Seymour.