While the men of the AIF had talked about the possibility of a ceasefire or a negotiated peace since August, the reality of it was hard to envision. There seemed no end to the back-and-forth of the war and the mounting casualties.
Men were getting restless. The 30th Battalion history notes, ‘time had begun to drag somewhat heavily, the weather was cold, poultry had become scarce and difficult to obtain either by purchase, or more direct means, the few fish remaining in the streams had become detonator shy, and the winter supply of firewood on the farms – particularly that stacked in the open – was fast diminishing, therefore any change, even a return to the front, was not unwelcome.’1
Training continued and battalions moved forward into rest areas, while others prepared for a frontline relief. The 46th Battalion was scheduled to move forward on 8 November, but the move was postponed for twenty-four hours. The following day it was postponed again for twenty-four hours. On 10 November, the battalion was about to move forward at 5.30 pm when the move was again postponed for eighteen hours. This was not uncommon, and the men did not expect these postponements had anything to do with a ceasefire. It was a similar case with the 19th Battalion: ‘On Monday 11 November the battalion paraded at 0900 in readiness to proceed to the assembly point for enbussing. Again word came through “to dismiss” but to be ready to move on 30 minutes notice. Meanwhile, long tooting of steam railway engines was heard in the distance from the railhead at Peronne and at 1200 unofficial news was received from various sources … that an armistice had been signed.’2
The 3rd Battalion had also been heading for the front. The battalion history noted, ‘On the 10th [November] the battalion was again on the move, busses conveying it to Bazuel, near Le Cateau. The billets in this place were poor and comfortless. Many of the houses had been used as cages for prisoners of war, and on the walls of many of them were scrawled the regimental numbers and names of prisoners, including those of Australians. It was in these cheerless surroundings that we received news of the Armistice.’3
News of the ceasefire and Armistice came down to the Australian battalions from divisional headquarters. The official communiqué issued from General Headquarters of the British Army ordering the cessation of fighting was as follows:
Hostilities will cease at 11.00 today, 11th November. Troops will stand fast on the line reached at that hour which will be reported by wire to advanced GHQ. Defensive precautions will be maintained. There will be no intercourse of any description with the enemy until the receipt of instructions from GHQ. Further instructions follow. Addressed to all concerned.4
The 28th Battalion noted it received the news in this way:
At about 10.50am, a message which nearly stopped the heartbeats of the pair [sic] was received. Quickly mounting a bicycle, Lieutenant Vic Pascoe pedalled furiously to the parade ground and attracted the attention of the Adjutant to hand him the signal. The Brigadier read it to the assembled battalion:
OFFICIAL. GENERAL HEADQUARTERS REPORTS MESSAGE FROM GENERAL FOCH TO COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF STOP HOSTILITIES WILL CEASE ON THE WHOLE FRONT ON 11TH NOVEMBER 1100 HOURS FRENCH TIME STOP THE ALLIED TROOPS WILL NOT CROSS UNTIL FURTHER ORDERS THE LINE REACHED ON THAT DATE AND AT THAT TIME STOP SIGNED FOCH 6.35am.5
While the battalions received the news of the Armistice at different times, and by different means, it is interesting to note that across the AIF, in general the news was taken with no great fanfare by the men. The 3rd Battalion Pioneers noted, ‘There was little demonstration among the men of the unit, certainly not much more noise than takes place on pay night, and one found it most difficult to realise that at last the hostilities had ceased, with every probability of their never being resumed.’6
The 37th Battalion history noted, ‘Men received the news quietly. What seemed an impossibility barely three months before, had become an accomplished fact. Germany was beaten. We had won the war. There was no immediate rejoicing at the victory. The fighting men were rather stunned, and their thoughts flew to the mates they had lost rather than the triumph of the moment. Wasn’t it particularly hard luck, they thought, for those killed in the recent fighting.’7
Other records of the time mention the great relief felt by the men: ‘An immense sigh of relief went around the world. The storm that had threatened to engulf civilisation had ended.’8 In the 45th Battalion, ‘The troops received the news of the Armistice with feelings of great relief, but with a calmness that was remarkable considering what the cessation of hostilities really meant to them. They felt like one who had awakened from a hideous nightmare, can scarcely believe that it is all over and he is still alive.’9 Others noted of the men’s reaction, ‘Men looked into each other’s faces, gripped each other by the hand, and felt what they could not speak. And then they set out to celebrate the great day.’10 The 46th Battalion history records, ‘For some it was a great relief, others were dumb and didn’t know what to do or what to think. Some men had been away from Australia for four years, and through that time had lived a continuous nightmare of hellish sights and sounds. They had made some friendships that were bonded with hard work and the blood of themselves and others, only to see these friendships torn apart in a split second of blinding light and acrid smoke.’11
Some did not actually believe the news to be true:
Everyone was miserable, out of sorts. And thoroughly ‘fed up’. Suddenly hooters and sirens could be heard in the distance, followed by the beating of tins and gongs nearer at hand, but no one seemed inclined to interest himself in the matter, and one enthusiast who jumped up and exclaimed, ‘The war’s over’, was told to sit down and not be a blanky fool. So many rumours had been circulating during the last week concerning a fictitious Armistice and cessation of hostilities, that when it did actually eventuate, it was not believed.12
Others did not believe the news until they saw it in an English newspaper. The 44th Battalion history notes, ‘When the London Daily Mail was delivered to us in the late afternoon and we read the news, the men took it all very quietly and calmly. There was no demonstrations at all. In fact there was a certain amount of scepticism.’13 In the 27th Battery of the 7th Brigade Australian Field Artillery, rumours of peace had been rampant, ‘but by most were scarcely credited’. The battalion history takes up the story:
On the dismissal of the stable parade at midday on November 11, Major Doherty gave out that any man who wished to hear an order which had just been received could remain while it was read. Some, however, went to their billets to get their dixies, as dinner was almost ready. The others, when the circular had been read, given the official announcement of the armistice, made the usual dash for the queue at the cook-house, as dinner by then was quite ready. It seemed that dinner was far more important, and any news such as that just received evidently needed days before it was realised.14
The surprise of the ceasefire had left battalions confused as orders bearing details of a return to the front were delayed and revised. In the 11th Brigade war diary is a note on 11 November which states, ‘General Cannan received an unofficial report that armistice was signed, but this was not confirmed.’ Even the following day they were not sure: ‘Persistent reports that Armistice has been signed and all French population celebrating the great event. Repeated calls on Division failed to have the report confirmed.’15
In Somme Mud, Private Edward Lynch writes:
The French people are going clean mad today as they reckon the war is over. Every French man, woman and child is racing around waving flags and wine bottles and telling us, ‘Fini la guerre, Monsieur’. Rumours and furphies are going everywhere … The bugle is blowing ‘fall-in’ and we line up. Our O.C. gets rid of a few stray frogs from his throat and says, ‘A message is just through, men, to say that hostilities ceased at eleven o’clock this morning. That means that the war is over, and –’
‘Hooray!’ we all yell, very much doubting him. Surely wars don’t end like this.
He grins hard, ‘I regret to announce that the message is unofficial.16
Some battalion war diaries did not even mention the Armistice. The 13th Australian Light Horse Regiment war diary noted for the day, ‘Move continued to Le Hergies. Men quartered in bivouacs which were in fair condition. Horses in stables.’17
Unlike the sceptical Australians, the French people burst into joyous celebration. Church bells were rung, French flags and bunting were hung in villages and towns and the French national anthem, ‘La Marseillaise’, was sung. The 22nd Battalion history notes, ‘Parades were in progress when the glad news came through, but all work ceased at once. The band, covered with floral tributes, paraded the streets and the Australian flag was hoisted on the church spire amid great manifestations of joy from the assembled villagers.’18 In Vignacourt, ‘the day was given over to revelry, and many a bottle which had been saved by the good folk for this occasion, was produced and shared around. Each little dwelling produced a French flag, which was gallantly displayed in celebration.’19 The 5th Division history notes that in one village, ‘wood and poultry claims against the soldiers were stated to have been suspended for the day.’20
In Amiens, the French administration, and the people in particular, showed their gratitude to the Australians. To lead a parade there, Monash chose the band of the 24th Battalion to represent the AIF. By the time the band assembled in the street, the local people had reached a high pitch of excitement, and thousands of Australian troops billeted near Amiens had joined the vast rejoicing throng, marching arm in arm with locals under shopfronts and houses bedecked with the tricolour and decorations. The 24th Battalion history notes, ‘The appearance of the Australian band was the signal for a heart-stirring demonstration in honour of the Australian Army. As the band played … a wave of intense patriotic fervour swept over the crowd, which made no effort to restrain its feelings, but rejoiced with the utmost abandon and ecstasy.’21 It goes on to state, ‘Australians had pride of place in all the speeches … they had the first kisses of the excited women and girls, they had free wine and free meals and everything that a grateful people could bestow upon them.’ In the excitement, a member of the 2nd Battalion ‘risked his neck to climb to the belfry in the battered church to ring out joy-bells of peace’.22
Many war diaries and battalion histories help explain the discrepancy between the French people’s celebratory response to the end of war and the Australians’ muted one. As noted by the 28th Battalion, ‘Perhaps the burden of the war years was so great that it would take some time for the relief to be felt. Rejoicing was more a matter of the individual. In the mass the troops displayed few outward signs of happiness. Truth to tell, many of them repaired to the estaminets and quickly got themselves drunk. For long they had planned what they would do when the good news of the war’s end would come; how well and how wildly they would celebrate it, but when the news at last had arrived, their celebrations were mild.’23
A note in the 13th Battalion history simply states, ‘Australia was near at last; but there was a tinge of sadness and disappointment at the celebrations, sadness at the thought of absent comrades and disappointment at the knowledge that the “old Bat” [battalion] with all its associations would soon be a thing of the past.’24
The news of Germany’s surrender spread quickly among the Allied armies all along the front. The French soldiers, in particular, enjoyed the news, such was the suffering of their army and their nation. They ignited explosive powder and fired flares, ‘the nights weird with its colours’ as they ‘drank their ration of pinard (red wine) with increased zest’. This celebration would have been joined by the Canadians, the New Zealanders, the Americans and the nations of the British Empire and from the French colonies, filling the cafes and estaminets across France and Belgium with song and laughter.
The evening of 11 November, the men began to take in this momentous news: ‘Sitting around the braziers in the evenings, all manner of ideas were exchanged. “What did an Armistice mean? Would we go to Berlin? When would we be likely to reach home? What did the future hold for us?” While many other questions came up for discussion, deep down in the hearts of all was an unexpressed feeling of thankfulness that the strife was over.’25 The men also realised that there was much to do, details to be worked out, terms and conditions implemented and arrangements made for their return to Australia. For many, having been away from home for so long and fighting a war over four years, the announcement of a ceasefire was ‘beyond their comprehension’.26 To others this moment was very strange: ‘this sudden eerie silence that had come over the land after years of war; hard to believe that peace had come to take the place of war, and there came over all the feeling not only of victory, but the sense of a job well done. No more was there fear of bombs dropping on camps and billets from the sky, no more the terrifying whine of shells, the aggravating whistle of bullets. All had ceased, and the men could lay aside their gasmasks and put by their guns.’27
On 12 November, a Special Order of the Day was received from Marshal Foch which read:
OFFICERS, NON-COMMISSIONED OFFICERS, AND SOLDIERS OF THE ALLIED ARMIES.
After bringing the enemy’s attack to a stand by your stubborn defence, you attacked him without respite for several months, with inexhaustible energy and unswerving faith.
You have won the greatest victory in history and have saved the most sacred of causes, the Liberty of the World.
Well may you be proud.
You have covered your standards with immortal glory, and the gratitude of prosperity will ever be yours.
(Signed) F. Foch,
Marshal of France
Commander-in-Chief of the Allied Armies
Similarly, General Monash received a message from Australian Prime Minister Billy Hughes:
The government and the people of Australia extend their hardiest congratulations on the triumphant conclusion of your great effort. I am specially requested to convey to you their heartfelt thanks and deep admiration for your brilliant and great leadership, and for the way in which you and the brave men associated with you have borne the sufferings and trials of the past four years … and brought the civilized people of the world through adversity to victorious peace.
The day following the Armistice was bright, clear and cold, as winter was on its way. Training programmes, or more importantly post-ceasefire duty lists, though drawn up, had not been thought about or prepared and, in many cases, both officers and men were unsure what to do. Battalions in the 1st Brigade were sent on a short route march and then directed to work on road and railway repairs in their billeting areas. In the afternoon, sports of various kinds – rugby for the New South Wales and Queensland battalions, and Australian Rules for the Victorians and other state battalions – were organised.
Life for the diggers slipped into an ongoing cycle of route marches, work and cleaning details, inspections, church parades and sports. Men of the 5th Brigade who were then billeted around Vignacourt found themselves filling in trenches and rolling up wire to keep them occupied.
The 7th Brigade war diary notes that on 14 November, ‘The CO held a parade of all officers and NCOs … he addressed them on the danger of slackness setting-in, now that the hostilities have ceased. He requires a general tightening up of discipline.’28 In all battalion and brigade war diaries, the focus in the days after the Armistice is recorded as a combination of sport, training programmes and, at night, entertainment to keep the men amused and busy.
The Australian Flying Corps squadrons also awaited new orders and a new role. No. 4 Squadron went to Bickendorf aerodrome in Germany, while No. 2 and No. 3 Squadrons remained in Belgium. The surrendered German planes needed to be checked, guarded and, in some cases, flown to Britain. In many instances, the German pilots had sabotaged their machines, placing sugar in the petrol tanks and loosening the nuts on petrol lines. They were also known to have painted their names and tallies on the aircraft to annoy the Allied pilots sent to secure them.
While No. 4 Squadron enjoyed a leisurely and comfortable time in Germany, the other two squadrons, after completing their work, handed over their aircraft and went back to Britain. Here they were able to lead relatively free lives, with many undertaking educational courses – they did not feel there would be a career in aviation when they returned to Australia – or seeking daytime jobs. Their stay in Britain was also a chance to reunite with their English relatives, to mix in the community and to meet eligible English ladies and marry them.
By the end of the first week of peace, the Australian divisions were preparing to move eastwards, with their destination and their role uncertain. Haig was keen to keep pressure on Germany, and to oversee the extraction and removal of weapons, equipment, transport and supplies that might allow the German forces to be reformed and re-equipped. On the ground, there persisted a mistrust of the Germans’ intentions in honouring the ceasefire and Armistice conditions and, above all, a general disbelief that the war was finally over.