The Gallipoli Scholarship Fund
Thank you Eja and Riley
The Gallipoli Scholarship Fund Patrons, General the Hon David Hurley and Mrs Linda Hurley
His Excellency the Ambassador for Türkiye Mr Ufuk Gezer
Lieutenant General Natasha Fox
Major General Mike Smith, Chair of the Fund’s Management Committee and members of the scholar selection sub-committee
Member of Memorial Council, MR Glenn Keys
Phil Winter, CEO of RSL
Ron Hand from Merrylands RSL
John Lewis and David Bain Smith from Calleo for your support to the Indigenous Bursaries
And to all the sponsors represented here today.
Thank you both for your vision and your generosity.
I echo the acknowledgement of country because, in this place of story, I am reminded that many of our first Australians were denied the opportunity to enlist in the First World War because they were not ‘substantially of European origin’ – and yet many of them did. They either lied about their indigenous heritage or shopped around recruiting centres – even states - until they found a sympathetic enlistment officer who would turn a blind eye.
And once they were ‘in’ - more than 1000 of them - and survived the horrors of the battlefield as Dr Richard Walley OAM, Noongar Elder wrote, ‘the equality they experienced while fighting shoulder to shoulder with their non-Aboriginal mates was not always accorded to them on their return home.’
I thank and acknowledge the leadership of Michael Bell, the Memorial’s Indigenous Liaison Officer, for the dedication and passion he has brought to identifying our first Australians who have fought in every theatre of war – from South Africa to Afghanistan.
But as we have just heard at the Last Post Ceremony, where we remembered 24 year old Ben Nixon, killed in one of the last battles of the Second World War, here at the Australian War Memorial we also - and we must - honour those of you who have served, those of you still serving, and the families that love and support you.
Tonight is historic. The first time the Memorial has hosted these awards.
Born of the horrors of the first world war, the Gallipoli Scholarship Fund was conceived by more recent veterans as one of the ways in which some measure of good might come of it – investing in our youth; our future.
Traditionally, this award ceremony has been held at the Merrylands RSL – I thank and acknowledge their support and also thank you sincerely Ron for sponsoring the dinner that will follow this awards ceremony.
And I make my apologies for the dinner. Married for 33 years, I’m currently on leave, and I’d like to make it to my 34th anniversary!
So let me begin by acknowledging our scholars – those of you starting out on your tertiary education journey and a number of you entering your second and third years of study – and your families.
At today’s Last Post Ceremony you experienced the Memorial’s ‘why’.
No other nation honours one of its fallen every night and tells their story, not only of how and when they died; but most importantly, we’re reminded of who they were when they lived.
And we’re asked to contemplate what might have become of them had they lived.
As historian Professor Geoffrey Blaney once wrote:
How can you measure the real cost to Australia of war, where the average age on our Roll of Honour is just 23?
‘All those talented people who would have become Prime Ministers and Premiers, clergymen, engineers, teachers, doctors, poets, inventors and farmers, the Mayors of towns and the leaders of trade unions and the fathers (and mothers) of another generation of Australians’.
Here at the Australian War Memorial we can, and we do.
We measure what we have lost; but also what we’ve gained.
A stunning, stirring example of service before self, and one that has, in part, also evolved into these awards, and this investment in each of you.
Now Mike gave me some homework – I get a surprising amount of it in this job!
And free books to read, and more to write forwards to!
And a fair bit of free advice. Especially during this most ambitious development of the Memorial, which is designed to create the space to tell the stories of the 100,000 veterans we have created since the Vietnam War.
Mike asked me to see if I could find a soldier from the First World War who turned to study after the war.
That was the homework, but I decided to twist it, just a little.
I want to give you a quote: and see if you can work out who said it.
It was written by a 16-year-old, in TJ and J Smiths Scribbling Diary – what we would today call an exercise book.
This child wrote:
I’m never in the same state of mind for two consecutive days.
Once, it is an overmastering desire for library studies.
Then, a roving, restless, unsettled feeling.
Then, an ardent for living with the world…and the pursuit of fame’.
Any ideas?
I’ll give you a hint: there are only four named statues of individuals on the grounds of the Australian War Memorial.
His (that’s another hint) is one of them.
General Sir John Monash.
Born on June 27, 1865, in Melbourne, to Jewish Prussian parents, he was a civil engineer and a citizen soldier.
His military career began in the Victorian Rifles in 1884, and he rose steadily through the ranks.
His war began with mistakes and misadventures, as a Brigade Commander at Gallipoli, where a valley still bears his name; the one our ANZACs took to reach the hell of Quinn’s and Courtney’s Post, and Pope’s Hill.
He went on to France and the killing fields of the Western Front. He commanded the 3rd Division, and later, the Australian Corps. History has judged him as one of the most innovative commanders during the First World War.
His approach to warfare emphasized meticulous planning and coordination of infantry, artillery, tanks, and aircraft, earning him widespread acclaim as a Corps Commander at the Battle of Hamel on 4 July 1918.
It is still taught at Staff Colleges and War Colleges around the world.
He was knighted in the field by King George. The first time a soldier had been knighted in the field in over 200 years.
And after the war he stayed behind to oversee the repatriation of a quarter of a million Australian service men – and some who had recently acquired families – in just 10 months.
He set up the AIF Education Scheme, which was inspired by successful Canadian initiatives. This program offered vocational training and educational opportunities to keep soldiers engaged while they awaited repatriation.
It aimed to prepare them for civilian life by equipping them with skills that could help them find employment and to give them the best chance at reintegration back into society.
Beyond the battlefield, Monash remained a visionary. In 1919 he would be awarded the first PhD awarded in Australia for Engineering.
He served as the manager of the State Electricity Commission of Victoria and as Vice-Chancellor of the University of Melbourne.
He was also awarded a Doctor of Laws from Oxford, along with Field Marshall Haig and General Pershing.
He did not just leave us bridges and grand and timeless monuments like the Shrine of Remembrance in Melbourne, where he chaired the fundraising committee and oversaw its construction. Or a University that bears his name.
And despite his view that “No man is a hero in his own country," he was, and he left us his thoughts.
A prolific writer and diarist, we understand so much of the Australian experience of war from this man.
His collection, in the bowels of the National Library of Australia, takes up 60 metres of shelves, and covers everything from his thoughts on music (he was also an accomplished pianist) and astrology, to the planning process.
We have 30 boxes of his handwritten thoughts here too.
During the great depression, after many of the soldier settler plots had failed, and members of the AIF had given the best years of their lives and, all too often their health, they turned to Monash to lead the country back from what they saw as an abyss.
But Monash saw things differently.
This was not a nation of coups and organised resistance.
The world, he thought, was unsettled enough.
He declined politely, and in writing, stating "The best hope for Australia is the ballot box and good education.”
And here we are, on the eve of another peaceful election, awarding scholarships to our brightest.
His legacy continues to inspire Australians.
He once wrote:
"I don't care a damn for your loyal service when you think I am right; when I really want it most is when you think I am wrong."
On 12 October 1931, 300,000 Victorians turned up to line the streets as his funeral procession made its way to Brighton cemetery.
So, my message today, to our scholars, other than congratulations is, in this place of story, to write.
Capture your thoughts however mundane.
Because they’re not.
You’ve been identified amongst many, many applicants, for your family’s service and for your potential.
Please capture your growth and your journey.
The point of today is your education and the trajectory it will give your life’s journey if you make the most of it.
So, I’ll leave you with this final piece of advice from John Monash:
"Equip yourself for life, not solely for your own benefit, but for the benefit of the whole community."