Wilmot Verses Blamey

Chester Wilmot (1911–1954) was a renowned Australian war correspondent, broadcaster, journalist and writer. Covering the first triumphant North African battles of Bardia, Tobruk and Derna, the heartbreaking disaster of the Greek Campaign, the epic struggle along the famed Kokoda Track, the momentous amphibious invasion at Normandy and the eventual defeat of Nazi Germany, his voice stood above all others during BBC and ABC broadcasts throughout WW II. In an evening seminar with the ABC’s Tony Hill which discussed the contributions of Australia’s distinguished war correspondents, writer Neil McDonald addressed The Sydney Institute on Wednesday 1 March 2017.

WILMOT VERSES BLAMEY

NEIL MCDONALD

When Chester Wilmot returned to Australia from the Middle East early in 1942, he was already something of a celebrity. Born in Melbourne on 21 June  1911, a graduate of The University of Melbourne where he had been President of the SRC and a staunch supporter of reforming Vice Chancellor Joseph Priestly, Chester had originally intended to become a lawyer. Indeed, he had been completing his articles when war broke out. However, Chester had always been attracted to journalism. He had been an occasional broadcaster on the ABC in the late 1930s and published a number of anti Nazi articles based on his experiences in Europe during the Munich crisis. He had also attracted the attention of ABC General Manager Charles Moses. This led to Wilmot becoming the ABC’s principal broadcaster in the Middle East. He had covered the first time the Australians went into battle in World War II and helped craft a new Anzac legend with his broadcasts from Tobruk. Wilmot’s reporting had an edge over the other correspondents as much of it was based on confidential briefings by the military, at every level from private soldier to general.

Wilmot’s reception in Australia was everything he might have hoped. A carefully prepared case for increased pay was brushed aside by Acting General Manager TW Bearup with the grant of an even more substantial raise in salary. Chester married Edith Irwin, the very attractive “girl” he had been courting by mail from various fronts in the Middle East; and his plan for the ABC’s coverage of the new conflicts in the Pacific was well received. In addition, Chester was appointed to head ABC’s broadcasting unit in New Guinea.

However his return was not an undiluted triumph. A thoughtful broadcast on tank tactics resulted in a ban on Wilmot commenting on the Desert War for two months. The ban came from military censorship; but why? Wilmot was describing British tank tactics. The broadcast revealed nothing the Germans didn’t know already.

From the outset, there had been tension between the ABC’s Broadcast Unit in the Middle East and the commander of the AIF, Sir Thomas Blamey. In January 1941, Chester was about to cover the assault on Bardia, the first time the Australians went into action in World War II. Then Blamey ordered Wilmot to go to Palestine to record speeches by himself and the Minister for the Army, Percy Spender. Chester made the recording then drove the thousand odd miles back to Bardia. Lawrence H Cecil, the administrative head of the unit, immediately protested to the government. Blamey was told he did not have authority over the ABC unit. Later, Chester heard that Blamey had been “enraged” when, following the fiasco of the Greek campaign and the German invasion of Crete, Wilmot had taken his criticisms about the lack of preparation in Crete directly to the Commander in Chief in the Middle East, Sir Archibald Wavell.  Blamey, as well, took personally Wilmot’s criticism of the leisurely lifestyle of GHQ Cairo that he had made in the same interview. In fact, Wilmot made no criticism of the Australian commander; even though Blamey’s lavish lifestyle was by then notorious.

Still, after this Wilmot was very suspicious of Sir Thomas Blamey.  When Chester came across rumours that the poor quality of the films being shown to the troops was because the Australian Commander was benefitting improperly from some kind of deal with Albert Shafto, a leading film distributor in the Middle East, he felt obliged to investigate. Wilmot closely questioned both the officer in charge of amenities and Blamey himself. Their reactions, as described in Chester’s notes, were enough to make him even more suspicious. The amenities officer jumped to his feet and shouted, “That’s a matter for the commander in chief.” Blamey evaded Wilmot’s questions, but did not seem to be all that worried.

In fact, Blamey was very worried. Not long after Wilmot returned from the Middle East he was invited to the offices of the solicitors where he had been completing his articles before the war. Chester had been very happy there and thought they might have a wedding present. In fact, as he told Edith over coffee, Wilmot had been warned off by Blamey. “It stinks,” he exploded; and indeed it did.

Soon, Wilmot was in Port Moresby with Bill MacFarlane, his sound recordist from the Middle East, setting up a studio in the jungle. I couldn’t find any photograph of this studio but Tony Hill did, and they are in his book Voices from the Air. Also in Port Moresby was Department of Information cameraman Damien Parer and Melbourne Sun Correspondent Osmar White. Their reporting on film, radio and in print is one of the epics of Australian journalism. It is a story I have related in my biography of Damien Parer now titled Kokoda Front Line.

However, it was not until I met Gordon Darling in 2001 that I came to realise there was much more to the Kokoda story than I knew. Darling is best remembered for his extensive philanthropy; and for appointing Gough Whitlam as Chairman of the National Gallery. But, in August 1942, he was Lt Darling ADC to the Corps Commander Lieutenant General Sydney Rowell. Darling told me how impressed he was by the seasoned commanders who began to arrive in New Guinea in August 1942; Brigadier Arnold Potts, Major General Cyril Clowes, Major General Tubby Allen. They, along with Rowell, had been blooded in the Middle East and Greece. They were regarded at the time as members of the Middle East Club; men with sand in their shoes. According to Darling, Chester Wilmot and Damien Parer also appeared to him as members of the club. In fact, Allen and Rowell were friends of Wilmot and close to Parer. Almost certainly this is why they both agreed to an extraordinary request that was to remain secret until it was revealed to me by Darling in 2001.  Rowell asked the cameraman and the broadcaster if they would act as unofficial liaison officers. There are plenty of examples of correspondents helping out, but this was extraordinary. I should add that, in violation of all the rules governing the conduct of war correspondents, Wilmot carried a rifle and hand grenades.

Osmar White didn’t involve himself to the extent his colleagues did, but he later wrote a report on the campaign for his boss Sir Keith Murdoch. White too was armed. Once they joined what was now known as Maroubra Force, the reporters were caught up in the fighting withdrawal when the Japanese broke through at Isuravia. Wilmot questioned as many of the officers as he could. Then, on hearing of the Japanese attack at Milne Bay, he and White hurried back down the trail to Moresby. Parer stayed to film the withdrawal. When Chester returned to Port Moresby, Rowell and Allen asked him to prepare a report on the campaign. As far as I know, this was unprecedented and I doubt if it has ever happened since; which is why Wilmot is such an extraordinary figure in the history of Australian journalism.

Because more troops were soon to be committed to New Guinea, Rowell sent the report to Land Forces Headquarters suggesting it should be copied and distributed. The general told Darling that if one of his staff had written anything like that he’d have made him a brigadier. The report was at first well received, particularly by the Americans; that is, until Blamey found out. He ordered all copies withdrawn and destroyed.  Americans would have none of it. They kept their copies. The report is completely objective. It combines a lucid exposition of the strategic blunders that resulted in the Japanese advance to within 35 miles of Port Moresby with all sorts of detailed suggestions about deficiencies in equipment and how they could be remedied. My favourite recommendation is that each man should be supplied with 23 pairs of shoelaces.

Wilmot wrote and broadcast a lot about the need to supply the troops with properly camouflaged uniforms. He was not alone in this. Osmar White and Damien Parer had been with the 5^th Independent Company, when they dyed their uniforms in July because the khaki stood out against the deep green of the jungle foliage. Blamey, it seems, wasn’t interested. At a press conference in Port Moresby, Chester asked Sir Thomas how the dyeing of uniforms was progressing. Blamey replied that khaki had been established as the most effective camouflage. “I can refer you to some hundreds of people here who think otherwise,” responded Wilmot dryly.

Wilmot’s dispatches based on the information collected for Rowell skilfully corrected the misconceptions about the Australian performance being fed to reporters from General MacArthur’s headquarters in Brisbane.  A close collaborator in all this was the censor Colonel George Fenton another soldier with sand in his shoes.

A fragment of Fenton’s diary made available to me by his son through the good offices of Stuart Braga, author of Kokoda Commander a fine biography of General Allen, cast new light on the command crisis in September 1942 that resulted in the relief of General Rowell and eventually to Chester Wilmot’s disacreditation.

Brigadier Potts’ fighting withdrawal was good tactics. But it panicked MacArthur. Under pressure from the American general Prime Minister John Curtin insisted on Blamey going to New Guinea to report on the situation. And to his credit that’s exactly what he did. After being briefed by Rowell and Allen, Blamey returned to Australia, explained the situation in a broadcast and gave his commanders his full support. Then, a withdrawal to Itima Ridge to strengthen the line further alarmed MacArthur and he contacted Curtin and insisted Blamey return to New Guinea.

Blamey didn’t want to go and he did write a conciliatory letter to Rowell. However, the Fenton diary indicates Rowell, after his experience acting as Blamey’s Chief of Staff in Greece, didn’t believe him. What’s more, it now seems clear that Blamey was determined, if he had to go back to New Guinea, that he was going to get the credit for the way Rowell had retrieved the situation. Blamey also decided to close down Wilmot’s reporting. He brought with him the staunchly conservative Col J H Rasmussen to replace Fenton as censor and devised a new set of rules for correspondents that, among other things, prevented any reporter from talking to a staff officer. There was a spectacular confrontation with Rowell after which Blamey relieved him of his command. Meanwhile, Fenton hurried Chester away with Rowell not far behind. They met up in Sydney. Chester through C E W Bean, Australia’s official historian in the Great War and H V Evatt arranged a meeting with Curtin in Canberra.

During his interview with the Prime Minister, Wilmot argued that Blamey had lost the confidence of the Australian Army and that Rowell should be restored to his command. Curtin’s reply was, to say the least, disingenuous: “All that you have said is known to the government,” he told the reporter. “But General Blamey can predict the moves of the enemy so well that we cannot afford to part with him. It is a matter of back him or sack him and we can’t sack him.” This was arrant nonsense. Blamey’s predictions came from the intelligence services; and he and MacArthur had failed to heed assessments that predicted Japan’s attack on Moresby until too late. Curtin’s reasons for backing Blamey lay elsewhere.

In the course of the interview, Wilmot had mentioned he was preparing a report on the campaign. A few days later, the ABC received a letter from the PM demanding to see the report. “I am after all Minister for Defence,” the letter concluded. Wilmot saw his chance. By now, Blamey had destroyed all copies of the first report so Wilmot set about preparing another. Without mentioning his name this new report is directed straight at Blamey. Quite objectively it details all the command decisions that led to the reversal. He also corrects a few errors in the original and pays tribute to the successes achieved under Rowell’s command. Curtin however remained obdurate.

It was not long before Blamey moved against Wilmot. He called Chester in and, supported by Rasmussen and the new Corps commander, Edmund Herring, summarily removed Wilmot’s accreditation. His pretext was that Chester had continued to investigate the alleged picture fraud after he had been warned off.

Throughout all this Wilmot had the support of the ABC. He had called on Charles Moses – Colonel Moses – before he left New Guinea and secured a letter of support. Wilmot prepared a brilliant defence of his position for the ABC Board who fully supported their reporter. They did not know what to do about Blamey but decided to express their confidence in Chester by putting him on the air as often as possible. Wilmot was even granted leave and an office to write Tobruk. (A new edition with an introduction by Peter Cochrane published by Scribe has just been released).

Wilmot gained another supporter when, at the urgent invitation of the Prime Minister, Charles Moses returned as General Manager. He was understandably anxious to get his star reporter back in the field. When, through intermediaries, it was intimated Blamey would restore Wilmot’s accreditation, the ABC Chief urged Chester to make what amends he could. Wilmot was very wary and penned a guarded letter to the Land Forces Commander. When Moses later asked Blamey if he would restore Wilmot’s accreditation the General replied “I wouldn’t think of it. … It was a double cross.” Moses told me his anger was still apparent after nearly 40 years.

The reason for Blamey’s treachery was “the film”. Wilmot had been hired by the War Memorial to narrate a compilation of official films to be called Sons of the Anzacs. The last thing Blamey wanted was Wilmot narrating a prestigious documentary on Australians at war. So a copy of Wilmot’s “apology” was sent to the Memorial along with a statement that Wilmot had been disacredited. The exact wording of Chester’s coerced apology is unknown. The Blamey family withdrew the file on Wilmot in the Field Marshal’s papers shortly after Chester was killed in a Comet crash early in 1954. Judging from the drafts in Wilmot’s papers, however, he had skilfully avoided making any damaging admissions and the Memorial was able to secure Curtin’s permission for Wilmot to write and co narrate the documentary.

Early in 1944, Moses picked up rumours that Blamey was going to use the Manpower Act to force Wilmot into the Army – “a latrine unit was waiting” Moses told me. The General Manager knew the BBC had been interested in getting Wilmot ever since he broadcast for them from Tobruk. So he cabled the BBC,  “Wilmot available.” They replied with the offer of an assignment to cover Burma. This was amended to an invitation to join War Report, the body being set up to cover the invasion of Europe. But Wilmot needed the Prime Minister’s approval to leave Australia and this was refused – several times. After what seemed to be a final rejection, Wilmot went to Robert Menzies by then Leader of the Opposition and an old Melbourne contact. Menzies agreed to intervene and within days Curtin dropped all his objections.

How was Chester able to do it?

I believe, and this is speculation, that Chester found proof of Blamey’s involvement in the picture fraud and politely threatened to take the story to the newspapers. I managed to get the final piece of the puzzle from Ken Hall Director of Cinesound and a friend of Damien Parer who could easily have been Wilmot’s source. Hall told me that the Australian distributors had given mint prints of all their latest releases to the AIF. So why were damaged out of date prints being shown to the troops? Hall believed Blamey had given the prints to Albert Shafto to run in his theatres in Cairo and Palestine. Hence, all the rumours of money changing hands that first attracted Wilmot’s attention. I don’t have any document that reveals all, but this seems to be the most plausible explanation. Certainly Wilmot did tell Kenneth Slessor he had uncovered the evidence of Blamey’s corruption and was prepared to use it if he was prevented from taking up the BBC appointment.

And so Wilmot went to Britain, covered the invasion and wrote The Struggle for Europe. None of which would have happened but for Sir Thomas Blamey.

However, some questions remain. Why didn’t Wilmot take his dispute with Blamey further? There is a hint of an answer in a letter to his father. In it he mentions some approaches from the newspapers offering to take up his case. Chester refused because he feared that an attack on Blamey might damage the government. At that time Labour had no majority of its own and was relying on the support of two independents. Wilmot also had a low opinion of Menzies who although then a private member would have been the obvious alternative Prime Minister.

But why didn’t Curtin sack Blamey. The Prime Minister did not need Wilmot to tell him that the general had made some appalling errors in the New Guinea campaign and relieving Rowell was wrong headed. At a seminar at the C E W Bean dinner, in 2001, when I put the issue to Kim Beazley he stated that on the evidence he certainly would have sacked Blamey. And, of course, he is a very distinguished former defence minister. Beazley believed Curtin supported the general out of a mistaken deference to the opinion of the establishment. Blamey was the best the system had produced and Curtin believed he was obliged to back him. It is a fascinating hypothesis and hopefully Beazley will one day expand on this insight.

Some puzzles remain but there is no doubt Chester Wilmot risked his career on a matter of principle. It is only with the benefit of hindsight that we can wish he had been more ruthless in opposing one of the most vindictive and unprincipled men ever to have commanded the Australian Army.