Introduction

POMPEY ELLIOTT IS a superb subject for a biographer. He was a vibrant character, and he lived an extraordinary life.

The commander of a battalion at Gallipoli and a brigade at the Western Front, Elliott could well have risen higher still in the Australian army during the Great War; he certainly thought he should have. Vigorous and capable, volatile and controversial, he was an outstandingly successful leader. His admirers — and there were plenty of them — thought he was marvellous. But among his detractors were influential superiors wary of his idiosyncrasies, who denied him promotion to divisional command in 1918. The question of whether or not that denial was justified is thoroughly analysed for the first time in these pages.

Elliott was a household name and widely admired in his time, he was a prominent identity in the traumatic Great War era that influenced Australia profoundly, and the life he lived constitutes a remarkable story. It is surprising, then, how little has been written about him. My main aim in this book has been to remedy this gap in the Australian narrative by telling the previously untold story of his life comprehensively, accurately, and vividly.

This book also contains numerous reassessments of Great War engagements involving Elliott. The quality of Charles Bean’s epic Official History of Australia in the War of 1914–18 has tended to inhibit reappraisal of the battles he chronicled in his innovative, painstakingly researched, and unprecedentedly detailed volumes. Such was the excellence of his History that later writers have, in the main, concluded that re-examining Bean’s interpretation of what occurred was not only difficult and time-consuming but also ultimately unnecessary. That kind of approach would have been inappropriate here. Elliott was involved in so many controversies and had such forthright views about what happened and what should feature in the historical record — some assertions being accepted by Bean and incorporated into his History, some not — that a biographer of Elliott would not be doing the task properly if he accepted Bean’s findings with minimal scrutiny. In exploring these contentious questions I have endeavoured to immerse myself in as many of the sources that Bean used as possible (together with other sources emerging more recently that were not available to him).

This reappraisal has involved a fresh look at some of the most momentous Australian engagements of the Great War. They include the Gallipoli landing, Lone Pine, Fromelles, Polygon Wood, Villers-Bretonneux and much more, as well as episodes such as the AIF mutinies, the pursuit to the Hindenburg Line, and the British retreat of March–April 1918. Interesting reinterpretations have resulted. I have ended up disagreeing with Bean on a number of issues while remaining a firm admirer of his idealism, his priorities and objectives as a historian, and the sustained quality of his work.

Pompey Elliott justified his actions in all these controversies with verve and conviction. I have examined his vigorous accounts in personal correspondence, in publications, and in various other sources; naturally, I have quoted them freely in these pages. I have concluded that Elliott’s writings, in aggregate, are more historically significant (that is, to the history of the AIF) than the writings of any of his contemporaries except Bean. Pompey is not only notable as a soldier and commander, but as a recorder and interpreter of the AIF’s history.

Telling Elliott’s story in his own words as much as possible enables a Bill Gammage-like evocation of the collective AIF experience based on superbly vivid diaries and correspondence. And because Elliott identified himself so strongly with the formations he commanded, this book is in some ways not unlike a combined unit history — that is, a history of the 7th Battalion at Gallipoli and the 15th Brigade at the Western Front. Also, significant facets of Australia’s collective experience during Elliott’s lifetime are illuminated. This is particularly evident in connection with the sometimes under-recognised period immediately after the war, a time when Elliott used his prominence and presence in parliament to ventilate numerous controversial questions. My extensive survey of this period, culminating in Elliott’s sad demise, contains considerable previously unpublished material.

Finally, for a book appearing in this millennium, this biography incorporates to a rare extent the eyewitness perspectives of Australian Great War veterans who have been consulted specifically about individuals and events featured in it. As explained in the Acknowledgments, my work on this book has not been continuous. When I began my research I gave priority to consulting and interviewing returned soldiers about Pompey Elliott, and at that time veterans were still accessible in significant numbers. Regrettably, this is no longer the case.