Kokoda Commander
Written by: Stuart Braga,
Oxford University Press, 2004,
ISBN: 9780195516388, 374 pp.
Reviewed by: John Donovan
Since at least the 1930s, the friction between regular and citizen soldiers has remained an enduring element in the historiography of the Australian Army. This book sheds much light on that friction, while rehabilitating the reputation of Major General Arthur ‘Tubby’ Allen, one of Australia’s more notable citizen soldiers. It is a valuable addition to the work sponsored by the Army History Unit.
Were he alive today, Tubby Allen would be described as a member of the ‘aspirational class’. He came from a humble background, the son of an engine driver for the NSW Government Railways. After leaving school at age 14 to work as a messenger boy for the Postmaster-General’s Department, Allen rose through a combination of native intelligence, energy, personal study and hard work to become a battalion commander in the First AIF at the age of 24, partner in an accounting firm before reaching 40, and finally a major general who had led a division in two difficult campaigns before his 50th birthday. His health started to fail soon after the end of World War II and he died relatively young, probably as a result of his war service.
As Stuart Braga describes, while progress in Allen’s World War II military career came to an early end—at least in part because of the envy and class-consciousness of another officer—he lefta notable military record. When World War II broke out, Allen was given command of the 16th Brigade of the 6th Division. That this division produced many of the leaders of the World War II Australian Army is a tribute to the quality of those who sacrificed career and family interests to join the Second AIF in the first days and months of the new war. While the process of expansion involved much winnowing of wheat from chaff, within two years Allen had risen to lead the 7th Division in two campaigns.
What Braga’s book also shows, as it recounts the tale of Allen’s service during World War II, is that the friction between regulars and citizen soldiers was not as clear-cut as it is sometimes depicted. There was indeed friction between regulars and citizen soldiers. This friction sometimes had a detrimental effect on operations, as it did prior to Bardia, when Stan Savige was excluded, apparently deliberately, from a major pre-attack conference, even though his brigade was to have a complex role in the operation. As another example, the relationships between Horace Robertson and citizen officers (and, indeed, many of his regular colleagues) were rarely anything but fraught.
But there was tension also between citizen soldiers, most notably in this story between Ned Herring on the one side and Allen and Savige, who were perceived by Herring to be his command and social inferiors, on the other. And there was also friction between the regulars (particularly, in this context, between George Vasey and Frank Berryman). On the other hand, there were times when there was a complete lack of friction between regular and citizen soldiers. Allen (at least initially) got on well with Vasey, who even noted that ‘civilian training has some advantages in the army.’
Ironically, given the record of friction between regular and citizen soldiers, Allen’s ultimate nemesis was Herring, citizen soldier and pillar of the Melbourne legal establishment. Herring resented, among other things, Allen’s promotion to major general ahead of him. Thomas Blamey, the regular turned militiaman, who shared responsibility for Rowell’s fall with Rowell himself, and who is often criticised for causing Allen’s fall, was willing to employ him again in Papua. Blamey wanted Allen to alternate command with Vasey. Herring, however, refused to have Allen.
Braga considers that this decision not to provide regular relief for Vasey may have contributed to the later decline in his health. It also probably led to unnecessary losses during the Papuan beachhead battles, as Vasey became tired. Herring once famously stated that he preferred ‘Vasey tired to Allen fresh’. Vasey (tired) launched a number of attacks at Gona and Sanananda that gained little or nothing, but left many casualties. It is hard to see Allen (fresh) not resisting the push to launch ill-prepared and poorly coordinated attacks. For the failure to rest Vasey and its consequences, Herring must take the principal share of blame, although Blamey could have insisted on the change.
One of the few to recognise Allen’s achievements in the Owen Stanley Ranges was Berryman, a regular officer with whom many citizen officers, including Allen, had clashed. Regardless of his other feelings, Berryman, who had also been Allen’s brigade major in the prewar militia, recognised Allen’s achievement. From his position at Army Headquarters in Melbourne, he sent his congratulations to a man who had just been relieved of his command for alleged failure to perform—showing both intellectual honesty and bureaucratic courage.
Braga suggests that Allen’s transfer to the command of Northern Territory Force was effectively a form of exile. However, it is only with hindsight that we see the greater context—that there was no longer a ground threat to the Northern Territory in early 1943. Seen in contemporary terms, this was an important command. When Allen took command, Northern Territory Force was a potential front-line area close to major Japanese concentrations, responsible for a third of the Australian landmass. Perhaps this was the best that Blamey felt that he could do for Allen, given Herring’s refusal to have him back in command of the 7th Division and Blamey’s apparent reluctance to override Herring.
Several officers emerge from Braga’s book with their reputations changed to greater or lesser degree. First, Allen receives the credit due to him for the re-capture of Kokoda and for preparing the plan that was the basis for Vasey’s victory at Oivi-Gorari. Second, while his military reputation remains impressive, Vasey’s personal reputation is diminished, first by his initial reaction to Herring’s reluctance to take over in the mountains: ‘I don’t want to get stuck in those hills ... better jobs than that about’, and then by his readiness to take the credit for Allen’s efforts. Vasey himself had personal difficulties with the terrain of the Owen Stanleys, and was later to encounter the reality of Japanese defensive capabilities that had confronted Allen.
Blamey’s limited attempts to shield Allen from the pressure caused by the ill-informed views of MacArthur do not counterbalance his preparedness to allow the sacrifice of a subordinate rather than stand up to MacArthur when his own personal position was weak. Many officers at New Guinea Force and Land Headquarters were ignorant of the reality of events in the mountains, including low recovery rates after airdrops and the difficult terrain, to say nothing of Japanese stubbornness in defence. Blamey, as Commander of Allied Land Forces, should have searched out the truth.
Finally, Herring’s reputation as a person and as a military officer is diminished: his personal reputation by his apparent vindictiveness towards Allen and Savige; and his military reputation by his failure to understand, or indeed even to enquire into, the tactical and logistic problems of operating along the Kokoda Trail. Braga demonstrates that Herring’s skills on a conventional battlefield did not translate well to conditions in the mountains and swamps of Papua.
Braga discusses briefly the March 1942 ‘revolt of the generals’ in which Herring participated. This ‘revolt’ comprised an attempt to have Robertson, then still a brigadier, appointed commander-in-chief. Given that all three participants were probably aware of Robertson’s ambiguous attitude to the Greek campaign, an attitude that casts doubt on his character, one wonders what they could have been thinking of! Menzies’ statement that leadership is ‘cultivated by practical and varied experience of life’ seemingly held as true for Herring, the Melbourne QC, as it did for many of the officers of the small interwar army, about some of whom Kingsley Norris, then ADMS of the 7th Division commented ‘their general knowledge of the world around us was limited.’
There are a couple of minor issues in the book. It does not seem relevant, for example, to discuss the establishment of RMC Duntroon in the context of replacing British officers qualified at staff college, as Duntroon did not provide such training. Australian officers attended the staff colleges at Camberley and Quetta for many years to come. Gough’s first name was Hubert, not Hugh. I am not sure who comprised the ‘Australian Division Field Company Royal Engineers’ on page 103—perhaps they were from 2/1 Field Company, Royal Australian Engineers, who supported the 16th Brigade at Bardia. In Vasey’s letters to his wife, Mackay’s first name is sometimes rendered as ‘Ivan’ rather than ‘Iven’, though it is unclear whether or not the error is Vasey’s.
It is interesting that both the Army and Air Force experienced command problems in World War II. In the Army, these problems stemmed from the appointment of Blamey as both Commander Allied Land Forces and Commander-in-Chief of the Army. His combined operational and administrative responsibilities both suffered from his excessive workload. In the Air Force, operational command and administration were divided, but the responsible officers had a personality clash, which prevented them from working together for the good of the war effort and the service.
Overall, this is a useful and comprehensive book. Indeed, upon reading on page 43 about Allen’s attack of paraphimosis in early 1918, this reviewer was reminded of the modern expression ‘that’s more than I needed to know’.
