Primary tabs
Transcription
[Page 140]
7
3rd. Battalion, at a place called Buere, near Albert. From then on till the date of his death, Dene spent four months alternately in and out of the front line, frequently under heavy fire, sometimes enduring almost intolerable cold in the trenches and at other times in icy barns where the soldiers were in billets, for this was the record winter for 40 years in France. On the 27th. March, 1917, he wrote
"I can tell you, now that we can look back on the real winter, we have been through some hardships. It's still very cold, for March winds are straight from the North Sea : it's not coldest when the snow is falling, but a while after it gets awful. But you would be surprised how hardened we become to wet clothes and other uncongenial conditions. I'm sure all the molly-coddling we go through in civilian life is the cause of half the pneumonia and pleurisy, for here we have been wet for weeks; slept, or rather dozed on the floor of a muddy trench, sat on wet firesteps, dug in in the snow and sleet, not washed for weeks, not changed for weeks, eaten bread and jam, bully beef and stew, and after all, shells included, we come out fairly right."
The last letter he wrote on 8 April was to a lady in London, wherein he says it is a lovely spring day, with glorious sunshine and a little warmth in the air, and his thoughts recur to his home in Australia, where, he says, the boronia and flannel flower are coming to bloom, and the birds are singing and mating, and he supposes, as he has been lucky so far, he will continue to be so. He passed away before the next day dawned. His good companion, Private Cleve Edmonds, who went to Chatswood School with him, and roamed the Middle Harbour gullies when they were kids together, tells all that is known.
"Dene Fry has been killed, he was shot through the head on Easter Monday morning, probably caught by a machine gun. He was buried where he fell, with two others. We were in the line again for Easter, D Company hopped over about 4 o'clock on Easter Monday. Seven men, including Dene and self, formed a screen five minutes ahead of the Company, and advanced until we came into contact with the Huns. Fritz let us get within 50 yards before he opened fire on us with rifle and machine guns. We had to drop at once and do the snake act back to the Company and report. It is a miracle we were not potted then, as we were advancing over clear, open country. As soon as we reported in, the Company rushed the position. It was then that Dene Fry was killed."