Australia and the US were allies during the Second World War, though that wasn’t always apparent in the relationship between GIs and Diggers.
This is the story of one especially bitter encounter.
It was not only in wartime Britain that American GIs were regarded as ‘overpaid, oversexed and over here’. Brisbane, the capital of Queensland, is situated on the coast of the south-eastern edge of the state.
In 1942, following his escape from the Philippines, General Douglas Macarthur set up a headquarters in the city and tens of thousands of US troops were camped close by, swelling the population of the 300,000 or so Australian inhabitants of the Greater Brisbane district.
With their smart walking-out uniforms, their movie-star accents, their better pay and their access to various luxuries, they were a hit with many young women: at least that was how the ‘Diggers’ saw it.
In addition, while the Australians were not known for treating aboriginals particularly well, they took exception to the segregation and the denigration that white GIs inflicted on their black brothers in arms.
The situation became explosive when Macarthur made some critical remarks about the fighting capacity of the Australians; and when the first US units engaged alongside Australians in New Guinea performed poorly, the Australian soldiers’ hostility intensified.
Australian troops in both world wars had a reputation, not always deserved, for disliking rules and spit and polish, for showing disrespect to any officer that they considered pompous and inefficient and for behaving generally in a disorderly fashion.
They had little time for military police (MPs) and in Brisbane they were particularly hostile to the US version – ‘Snow Drops’, after their white helmets or, to the Diggers, just ‘provo [provost] bastards’.
On Thanksgiving Day, 26 November, an American private was invited to have a ‘comrade-in-arms’ drink with some Australians. He had already had one or two.
As the group walked towards a pub in the city centre they were stopped by two US MPs who demanded to see the GI’s pass and ordered him to do up his shirt buttons. The Diggers demanded that ‘their mate’ be left alone.
One of the MPs struck an Australian with his baton, which was the cue for the Diggers to turn on the MPs, punching and lashing out with their brass-buckled webbing belts.
The MPs were chased to the American PX (Post Exchange, a retail store somewhat similar to the British NAAFI) in Creek Street and a stand-off developed as the Diggers, whose numbers rapidly grew to, perhaps, 500, demanded that the ‘provo bastard’ who had hit their mate be handed over to them.
As it became clear that no one was going to be handed over to face the crowd the situation began to calm down. At this point a US army weapons carrier drove up, containing two MPs, one of whom was waving a riot gun, essentially a 12-gauge shotgun.
The Australians demanded that he put the gun down. An Australian gunner, Edward Webster, who had already seen action in the North African campaign, seized the barrel and the gun went off, mortally wounding him. It is unclear whether the MP had deliberately pulled the trigger, but another two shots were fired, with the pellets wounding another seven Diggers and an Australian civilian.
After the initial shock of the shooting of Gunner Webster, the Battle of Brisbane began, spreading out from Creek Street and making it dangerous to be seen anywhere in the city in a US army uniform. Estimates vary widely about the numbers involved in the fighting, from 2,000 to 4,000.
Eleven GIs were seriously injured, one with a fractured skull. Australian MPs appear to have been reluctant to get involved; there were 110 of them in the city, as opposed to 800 of the US Provost Corps. A picket of Australian signallers was deployed, with unloaded rifles, to try to bring the situation under control.
Later, Australian troops, including men from Webster’s anti-tank unit, were ordered on to the streets with loaded weapons to bring some order. No further shots were fired and eventually the fighting appears to have run out of steam.
Three Australians were eventually prosecuted as ring-leaders of the trouble. All three were found guilty and jailed for a few months.
Some World War One conscientious objectors were sent to work camps. The conditions at one facility in Aberdeenshire saw it closed down months after a young man died from pneumonia.
By the second year of the war, the initial flood of volunteers had slowed to the point where Britain was forced to introduce conscription for the first time in its history.
The Military Service Act, which came into force in March 1916, allowed for objectors to be exempted from service on religious, moral and political grounds, but their appeals were judged by a military tribunal.
Thousands of objectors were sent to do “work of national importance”, such as farming, and many more performed non-combat duties, such as working as ambulance men or stretcher-bearers in war zones.
Others were forced into the army, and when they refused orders, they were sent to prison.
There was much public criticism over able men sitting in jail when they could be doing useful labour.
So a project was devised under which the men would break rocks in the north of Scotland for use in road construction.
Some were sent to a camp in Ballachulish in the Highlands.
The men faced tough work and poor conditions, but at least they were housed in huts.
Other “conchies” were sent to the camp at Dyce, Scotland
They lived in army surplus tents that leaked in the rain and worked smashing granite in the nearby quarry.
Aberdeen University historian Joyce Walker says about 250 men, most of them sent up from England, were taken to the work camp.
She says: “They were scholars or academics, students, teachers, shopkeepers, labourers, the whole range of human endeavour.
The public mood was not sympathetic to conscientious objectors (COs), with many considering them traitors and cowards whose presence was an insult to the north-east men who had left to fight on the front.
Local newspaper the Aberdeen Journal wrote a virulent editorial attack on them in September 1916, soon after the camp opened.
It said: “A conscientious objector in war-time is a degenerate or worse, who is out of harmony with the people of the nation which protects him in peace-time and defends him in war-time”.
Wartime Photo by the famed photographer Sir Cecil Beaton.
Sir Cecil Walter Hardy Beaton, CBE (14 January 1904 – 18 January 1980) was an English fashion, portrait and war photographer, diarist, painter, interior designer and an Academy Award-winning stage and costume designer for films and the theatre.
He was named to the International Best Dressed List Hall of Fame in 1970.
Spartacus was a gladiator from Thrace who commanded a massive slave army during the Third Slaves War, the largest and most successful slave rebellion in Roman history.
The uprising began in 73 B.C. when Spartacus and a small band of slaves escaped from a gladiator school by using kitchen utensils as weapons.
Slaves from across the Roman countryside soon flocked to join the revolt, and the rebel army caused a panic in the Roman senate after it defeated a militia at Mt. Vesuvius and two legions near Mt. Garganus.
According to the ancient historian Appian, as more slaves joined the uprising their ranks swelled to include as many as 120,000 former bondsmen.
But despite their early victories, the slaves later fell prey to disunion and split into several unorganized factions.
The main rebellion was then defeated in 71 B.C. after eight Roman legions commanded by Marcus Lucinius Crassus cornered Spartacus and demolished what remained of his army.
Spartacus died in the battle, and 6,000 surviving slaves were later crucified along a Roman highway as a brutal warning against future revolts.
Thomas Muentzer (1489-1525) started as a follower of Martin Luther’s. He may have even heard some of Luther’s lectures. He certainly read Luther.
The message he got from Luther, above all, was “scripture alone”. And when he read scripture alone, he went his own way. For Luther, Thomas Muentzer was the epitome of someone who misunderstood the message. Luther saw this as a spiritual battle. Thomas Muentzer was not willing to make the distinction between spiritual and worldly that Luther was.
So Thomas Muentzer, in reading the Bible and especially the Old Testament, felt that to be a good Christian you had to change society in various ways, and that just like the prophets had used force to convert the infidels in the Old Testament, that Muentzer and his followers had the right to use force to deal with those people who opposed the gospel.
Luther did not believe in that. For Luther, that was Satan at work. And he called Thomas Muentzer the Satan at Allstadt (that’s where Muentzer was preaching).
Thomas Muentzer had a role in part of the Peasants’ War. The Peasants’ War occurred over large parts of the empire. But in one part in the north-central area, Thomas Muentzer was the leader of a band of peasants.
And for those peasants, he was taking the Old Testament images and bringing them to life, and telling them that just as all Christians were supposed to be free spiritually, they also were all to be equal and free economically and politically.
This was the rallying cry that galvanized his supporters. This was the rallying cry that brought the princes together to oppose it. …
One of the most famous battles in the Peasants’ War occurred at Frankenhausen, where the armies of the princes in the cities met the peasants’ bands led by Thomas Muentzer. The princes, by one report, attempted to find an end to the fight.
The peasants, however, saw a rainbow in the sky, and Muentzer’s flag had a rainbow on it, harkening back to the rainbow that Noah was given, the covenant with God.
And so as the princes load their cannons and the cavalry gets ready to charge, the peasants are singing, “Come, Holy Spirit,” believing that this battle is the final battle of Armageddon, and that God was going to break in and stop it right there.
But instead, the cannons fired. The knights charged. Of about 8,000 peasants, about 5,000 lost their lives.
And Muentzer himself was captured, cowering under a bed; tortured and executed three months later.
That was the end of Muentzer’s apocalyptic vision.