It was WW1 that was indirectly responsible for the migration of my British family to Australia between 1919 and 1922 and all the family events that occurred thereafter.

On July 24th, 1919 in Dartford, Kent, England, my mother’s sister, Eunice Minnie Kathleen Boudrie married an Australian soldier – Corporal William Harold Hutchison. A young tailoress, the daughter of an English carpenter and joiner appeared an unlikely match for the son of a Gippsland farmer from the town of Murrungower Lower, so far away in the British colony of Australia.

Harold, aged 23, had travelled to Europe with the ANZAC Provost Corps. – 30th Battalion on board the HMAT ‘Hororata’, embarking from Sydney on  May 2nd, 1916. As fate, destiny or chance would have it these two people met in the tailor shop owned by the local Quilter family in Spital Street, where Eunice worked. Harold, as he was known, had returned from the war action in France due to illness and entered the tailor shop with the intention of getting his Australian Army uniform mended. Harold was based in London whist on leave but I suspect that he was staying for a while at the army hospital set up in Dartford at this time to treat his pleurisy and ‘trench feet’. Due to the cold and wet conditions on the war front, these were probably common ailments amongst the soldiers.

To make matters even more interesting and I think quite amazing is the fact that Harold was one of six brothers who had joined up in the Australian Imperial Force during WW1. Luck was surely on their side as all six bothers returned safely to Australia at the end of this terrible war. In fact one of Harold’s brothers was present with him in England and was the best man at his wedding.

In October after their wedding, Harold and Eunice sailed on the ship ‘Benalla’ to Australia.

This ship had been modified to carry passengers after the war and Eunice’s father (my grandfather), was a carpenter who had worked on the ship’s internal renovations. Eunice, the second oldest child of seven belonging to Ernest and Frances, said good-bye to all of her family, including an older sister, a young sister (my mother) and four brothers – one of whom was Ernie, Royal West Kent Regiment, who was killed in action and remained in a Flanders field near Ypres, gone from this world after the Third Battle of Passchendaele on 16th August 1917. At 19 years of age his life was cut short and he did not return to attend his sister’s wedding. It was a sombre time really for all the family after the endurance of the WW1. People were looking for new lives and new starts.

In my mother’s own words whilst reflecting on life at the age of 92 years she explains what happened next to her family at the time:

“Eunice went to Australia and later settled on a Soldier Settlement farm at Trawalla at the foot of Mt Emu in Victoria,” she said. “Eunice became very homesick. So my parents decided to go to Australia too. We came as emigrants at the cost of 10 pounds for the four of us – my father, my mother, myself and my youngest brother Jim.”

As the years went by all of my mother’s siblings migrated to Australia, some with their own families.

Life in Australia, even for a British migrant was difficult, nothing was established. My grandmother found herself as a widow in three short years after arrival and there was no help as you had to have been in the country 20 years to be eligible for a widows’ pension in 1920s. But with tenacity everyone ‘soldiered’ on.
Eight young adults from this family went on to serve in WW2 and in Defence Services for Australia in later years. One of these cousins, Tony, was killed when his Lancaster Bomber came down in Europe and so I never got to meet him. However through the remembrance and dignity given to him post war, I feel as though I know him. His handsome looks and his friendly smile has accompanied me through my life in the form of a photo of him which has always been on display in our home.

My father, also a 1922 British migrant, went on to serve in the Australian Army in WW2, returning from active service in Egypt.

At one stage he was a batman for General Blamey during this time. War experiences impacted my father’s emotional and social life post war, as it did with many veterans. However he was eligible for a War Service Housing Loan and this turned out as a helpful compensation. We proudly lived in Kokoda Road amongst the other veterans in Anzac and Tobruk Crescent. My father was one of those people who came to Australia seeking a change and a chance. But he was greatly affected by the Great War with uncles who served in France and the Dardanelles.

One uncle was killed in action in France and is buried at the Albert Cemetery, he left a wife and five children in Birmingham, England. So war has had an effect on me even in this Australian family that was so influenced in its beginnings by WW1. With my family from Britain came their memories and a very large photo of my uncle Ernie. This photo and the bronze plaque from the King, known as the ‘bad penny’, have never been off the walls of our homes here in Australia.

Last year, as an Australian, I visited the Menin Gate in Ypres and the battlefield where my uncle died – the first family member to pay my respects in this manner.