World War II veteran Allan Godfrey dead at 100

Allan Godfrey, who spent his latter years giving talks in primary schools and was a fixture at the Caroline Springs RSL sub-branch, has died just shy of his 101st birthday.

One of Australia’s last remaining World War II Diggers, Allan Godfrey, has died.

Godfrey never thought he would live to 20, much less 100.

Forever haunted by the mates he had lost, in memories that brought on instant tears, Godfrey became an unlikely Anzac hit in primary schools in his latter years.

Godfrey was also a fixture, all twinkling eyes and cheery grin, at the Caroline Springs RSL sub-branch, where he shared stories with fellow veterans, some one third of his age.

Allan Godfrey was forever haunted by the mates he had lost. Picture: Tony Gough

He would nurse the emu feather of his Light Horse slouch hat, which was ironic, given Godfrey did not know one end of a horse from the other.

A fraction of the estimated 6800 surviving World War II veterans in 2021 still remain with us.

In his final interview, for an upcoming RSL documentary, Godfrey said: “You know, I couldn’t do much, that was my trouble. They kept moving me around.”

Godfrey enlisted in Collingwood, at 18.

He trained to fire a gun. But he couldn’t pull the bolt of a .303 rifle. He was transferred to the Light Horse. But he had never ridden a horse.

Godfrey enlisted in Collingwood, at 18. Picture: Tony Gough

He was sent to drive a tank. But he hadn’t driven a tank before.

Godfrey went to New Guinea as a transport driver for the wounded.

He was scarred until his death by the unchecked randomness of wartime horrors.

In Malaya, he tried to save prisoners of war in the final days of the war.

The memories remained seared into his mind 60 years later.

He could only save a handful of men – the rest had been butchered by the fleeing Japanese.

“I’ve never told anyone that,” he says, breaking down, in the documentary.

“We only got four.”

On returning from war, Godfrey delivered milk – with a horse and cart – early each morning.

He married Thelma and had three daughters.

In recent years, Godfrey lived in St Albans with his great-grandchildren.

He relished visits to schools, where kids inevitably asked if he had fired a gun or been wounded (no to both).

At 99, he discovered hot chocolate.

He would have turned 101 on Saturday.

As Godfrey’s friend, Wendy Mason, once said: “If someone was not supposed to go to war, it was Allan. If anyone was to survive the war, I wouldn’t have bet on Allan.”