The Little Captain

by Private William O’Neill, 25th Battalion, Gallipoli

The year was 1915 and like many other units of the Australian Army the 25th Battalion was encamped within sight of the pyramids of Cheops. To these men it was a wonder to behold but many would have swapped it for a sight of their beloved Queensland and its equally vast horizons. The men did not know why they were training so hard or why they were subjected to the harsh rigours of the desert and its searing heat. But they accepted this and many other hardships as part of their lot.

As many of the men were country born and bred and had been raised on horseback it was sad for them to be reduced to travelling on foot. But they thought it was a “Long Way to Tipperary” so it must have been even further to “Old Kaiser Bill” and then on to “Johnny Turk’. Each day was the same: reveille at dawn, saddle up with enough kit to fit out a strong horse, march off into the desert only to turn around and march back home again by sundown.

In those days, a Queenslander was a very tall man. As the old adage went, “Queensland born and Queensland bred, long in the leg and not much in the head”. He was definitely a cut of man who would stand out in a crowd.

At first, the route marching out into the desert took its toll, even on the officers and it was not long before the company commander – a young city bloke – took on a desk job so it fell on the commanding officer to appoint another company commander from amongst his officers. The first morning that the replacement stood before his company there were quite a few rude remarks made about him. For as tall as the men of Charlie Company of the 25th Battalion were, this officer was just as short. Remarks were made, like “He is carrying his own hole around with him” and “They’re going to send the rest of him later.”

Needless to say the men set out to show this undersized captain that they could march all the way to Aussie if needs be – and back again! This blistering rate of marching was rapidly taking its toll on the captain which did not go unnoticed by the troops. Not that these men were given to religious verse, but it was not long before some wags amongst the ranks struck up with the old hymn: “A little child shall lead them, lead them on their way, through the lands of Israel”, and so on.

This went on for many a weary mile through scorching heat and sand driven miles. But the “little bloke” always stuck it out and somehow managed to stagger back to his lines. That is until the morning when the Company Sergeant Major (CSM) had the company on parade, ready to set out on an even hotter day than normal.

They were ready to sing the captain a few more verses of the psalm as they had on days gone by but the “little bloke” was late on parade. The CSM stood fast and the men were thinking “Poor little coot, we went too far”. Then from between the bell tents and onto the company parade ground rode their beloved captain on the biggest horse any man had seen. The bushmen looked in wonder and awe. The smallest of men looked tall on this specimen of a steed.

Then with a polite salute to his CSM, the “little bloke” bellowed, “Now a little child shall lead them. Lead them on their way on a bloody great big horse!” Rumour has it amongst the battalion that Charlie Company was not capable of singing by the time they returned to their lines, late that night. It was duly noted that they had been led by that same officer and were capable of out-marching any other company.