Anzac Day: John Monash a leader without peer

An outsider by birth, he was ambitious and forceful but had to earn every promotion and ­honour.

John Monash at his HQ in Villers-Bretonneux. Picture: Australian War Memorial

One of the dramatic and defining events in Australia’s evolution to independence and control of its military forces came in May 1918 when John Monash became the first Australian to be appointed commander of the entire Australian Army Corps.

Monash was a Jew of Prussian ancestry, an engineer with a wide intellectual range, a citizen soldier before the war with technical ability, administrative command and personality drive — traits that carried him during the Great War to the apex of power, a knighthood bestowed by the king and a prestige that he craved.

The men in line knew that with Monash, the war machine behind them would work. He was never branded a “butcher”. He brought a scientific mind and passion for co-ordination to the task. The governor-general, Sir Ronald Munro-Ferguson, privately branded him a “competent Jew” — a reminder of his outsider status by heritage. He was ambitious and forceful but had to earn every promotion and ­honour.

In a famous letter to his wife, Vic, Monash wrote: “To be the first native-born Australian Corps Commander is something to have lived for and will not be forgotten in Australian history; and the appointment will give me a unique and unimpeachable standing both in England and in Australia …

“My command is more than two-and-a-half times the size of the British army under the Duke of Wellington or of the French Army under Napoleon Bonaparte at the Battle of Waterloo. Moreover I have in the Army Corps an artillery which is more than six times as numerous and more than a hundred times as powerful as that commanded by the Duke of ­Wellington.”

This was a man who knew his history, lived by numbers and thrived in the power bequeathed by supreme command. Taking control at a decisive moment in world history, Monash was utterly confident of his capacity.

His appointment followed the recommendation of Sir William Birdwood, the outgoing British officer who had charge of the Australians since the Gallipoli campaign. The appointment was approved by Field Marshal Douglas Haig, commander of British Forces, and authorised by the Australian government.

The goals of the Nationalist government under prime minister Billy Hughes were longstanding — to Australianise the AIF command and to become more influential in British decisions over the conduct of the war.

Monash’s biographer, historian Geoffrey Serle, captured the magnitude of his achievement in the context of its time: “A colonial Jewish militiaman of German origin was an unlikely candidate for high promotion. In Britain and Australia in the climate of mild ­Edwardian anti-semitism, the notion of a Jew being a soldier was a bit of a joke. He had overcome opposition with patience and self-control, without intriguing or wire-pulling — and may be forgiven his exultation.”

For Birdwood, the choice was obvious. Indeed, it was a “no ­contest”. Serle said none of the AIF generals compared with him in “intellect, articulateness or personal magnetism” — though his main rival, Brudenell White, did in administrative ability. Birdwood told the Australian government of Monash: “Of his ability, there can be no possible doubt, nor of his keenness and knowledge. He has had almost unvarying success in all the operations undertaken by his division which has, I know, the greatest confidence in him.”

For Monash, this was the prize of a lifetime — his appointment was to “the finest Corps Command in the British Army” that constituted all five Australian divisions and would “comprise 166,000 troops and cover practically the whole Australian field army in France”.

Monash was lucky, though he made much of his luck. History tells there is no more fortuitous event for a leader than to win the ultimate promotion at the zenith of his ability. This was the Monash story.

He took command when the AIF was battle-hardened, weary yet proud, and hungry for victory. Military historian Peter Pedersen said “its prestige and morale were soaring”. The contrast between the Australian and British soldier had never been greater than in 1918. By May, the Germans were faltering after their March offensive to win the war had been denied. The men and their officers in the AIF were emboldened — now they had a commander with the brain and organisational prowess to make victory possible.

Monash is one of the few military leaders from World War I who, after a century of historiography, emerges with his reputation undamaged and, if anything, enhanced. The accolades he received are without precedent in our military history, inspired by many motives. British military authority Basil Liddell Hart, in his obituary, said Monash “had probably the greatest capacity for command in modern war”; Field Marshal Bernard Montgomery of Alamein, said Monash was “the best general on the Western Front”; Anthony Eden called him “the ablest soldier of the war” — judgments that must reflect on comparisons with British commanders.

Monash was never a populist general courting the approval of his men. Visits to the trenches were rare. Some found him remote, yet those senior officers whose job it was to implement his plans were exposed to a compelling personality and incomparable briefings. Robert Menzies said: “He was the greatest advocate I ever listened to.” Serle identified his flaws — “his status-hunger, craving for publicity and honours and his habit of exaggerating his men’s and his own achievements”.

Yet there was a campaign to torpedo his appointment, spearheaded by two influential figures, official war correspondent Charles Bean and newspaper man Keith Murdoch. Bean disliked Monash and was infatuated by Brudenell White, long Birdwood’s chief of staff, a man of integrity and the ­architect of the withdrawal from Gallipoli.

Murdoch and Bean lobbied against Monash at all levels — with Hughes, defence minister George Pearce, British military chiefs and prime minister David Lloyd George. The character assassination was virulent. Hughes was unnerved. Brudenell White was embarrassed. Birdwood dug in, declaring Monash could do the job “much more ably than I”. He confronted Hughes directly. Brudenell White decided he would not accept the post if offered.

Monash told Hughes he would regard his removal “as a degradation and a humiliation”. He told his wife: “It is a great nuisance to have to fight a pogrom of this nature.” The sentiment among a majority of AIF commanders was for Monash. Serle called the episode “perhaps the outstanding case of sheer irresponsibility by pressmen in Australian history”. Within weeks, Monash delivered his emphatic reply: on July 4 his plans culminated in the battle of Hamel, often branded the first “modern” battle, that brought him immediate fame. Three Australian infantry brigades attacked the village of Le Hamel, near Villers-­Bretonneux, a precise and limited operation that saw Monash deploy tanks, air power, artillery and infantry in tight synchronisation, the key to success.

At his final briefing, lasting more than four hours, Monash spoke to 250 officers. He estimated the battle would take 90 minutes; it took 93. Beforehand when the US commander, General John Pershing, wanted the US contingent withdrawn, Monash refused: he delivered an ultimatum and proceeded as planned.

“All England is talking about it and me,” Monash wrote to his wife about Hamel. It was hardly an exaggeration. French prime minister Georges Clemenceau, seizing upon each victory, visited Monash and the Australians, addressing them in English: “We knew that you would fight a real fight but we did not know that from the very beginning you would astonish the whole continent” — words now engraved in the Australian memorial at Hamel.

The next month saw Monash deeply involved in the planning and execution of the great Allied offensive of August 8 that launched the 100-day campaign leading to the November 11 armistice. Historians still debate the ownership claims for this offensive; suffice to say Monash was instrumental. There is no debate about the centrality of the AIF as part of the British Fourth Army under General Henry Rawlinson.

On the eve of the offensive, Monash sent a message to all ranks saying “for the first time in the history of this Corps all five Australian divisions will tomorrow engage in the largest and most important battle operation ever undertaken by the Corps”, the aim being to “inflict blows upon the enemy which will make him stagger and will bring the end appreciably nearer”.

Monash biographer Roland Perry is surely correct saying the two most important dates in Australia’s military history are the April 25, 1915, landing at Gallipoli and the August 8, 1918, launch of the great offensive that saw the Australians and Canadians surge through enemy lines.

It was an epic sight — troops, guns, tanks and ambulances all moving forward. Rawlinson said: “The Canadians have done splendidly and the Aussies even better.” The German lines were broken and penetrated. German commander Erich Ludendorff wrote: “August 8th was the black day of the German Army.” A few days later, King George V invested ­Monash with his knighthood.

George V knights Monash.

The day before, August 11, in this heady atmosphere, an extraordinary meeting of Allied commanders took place at Monash’s HQ. Using an account by Brigadier General Thomas Blamey, as his source, Serle wrote: “When Haig met the Australian generals he uttered a few words of thanks and said ‘You do not know what the Australians and Canadians have done for the British Empire in these days.’ He opened his mouth to continue and halted. The tears rolled down his cheeks. ­Monash presumably considered such weakness should not be ­mentioned.”

A series of decisive victories followed with the AIF pushed to the limit — at Chuignes, Mont St Quentin, Peronne and Hargicourt. They enshrined Monash’s reputation as a masterful general and the AIF as an unsurpassed fighting force. Explaining his philosophy in 1918, Monash wrote: “ ‘Feed your troops on victory’ is a maxim which does not appear in any textbook but it is nevertheless true. The aim and end of all the efforts and of all the heavy sacrifices of the Australian nation was victory in the field. The troops themselves recognised this. They learned to believe, because of success heaped upon success, that they were invincible. They were right and I believe I was right in shaping a course which would give them the opportunity of proving it.”

Monash brought an industrial and business mind to the battlefield. He compared a battle plan with a score for an orchestral composition where each instrument must perfect its appearance and timing. War correspondent, F.M. Cutlack said: “He saw everybody; he forgot nothing; He left nothing to chance.” Monash preferred to operate from his headquarters: “I can at all times reach every possible subordinate with the minimum of delay.”

In his book The Australian Victories in France in 1918, Monash wrote at length about the character of the Australian soldier: “The democratic institutions under which he was reared, the advanced system of education by which he was trained, the instinct of sport and adventure which is his natural heritage, his pride in his young country and the opportunity which came to him of creating a great national tradition were all factors which made him what he was.

“In him there was a curious blend of a capacity for independent judgment with a readiness to submit to self-effacement in a common cause. It was always a delight to see the avidity with which he mastered the technique of the weapons which were placed in his hands. Machineguns, Lewis guns, Mills bombs, Stokes mortars, rifle grenades, flares, fuses, detonators, Very lights, signal rockets, German machineguns, German stick bombs, never for long remained a mystery to him.

“To light a fire and cook his food was a natural instinct. Psychologically, he was easy to lead but difficult to drive. His bravery was founded upon his sense of duty to his unit, comradeship to his fellows, emulation to uphold his traditions and a combative spirit to avenge his hardships and sufferings upon the enemy.

“Very much and very stupid comment has been made upon the discipline of the Australian soldier. That was because the very conception and purpose of discipline have been misunderstood. It is, after all, only a means to an end. It does not mean lip service, nor obsequious homage to superiors, nor servile observance of forms and customs, nor a suppression of individuality.

“The Australian is accustomed to teamwork. The teamwork which he developed in the war was of the highest order of efficiency. The truest test of battle discipline was the confidence which every leader in the field always felt that he could rely upon every man to perform the duty which had been prescribed for him, as long as breath lasted. A soldier, a platoon, a whole battalion would soon sacrifice themselves than ‘let down’ a comrade or another unit.”

Post-war, Monash ran the State Electricity Commission of Victoria, championed the cause of returned soldiers and led the Melbourne Anzac Day march. His work ethic was remarkable and with each success Monash developed a keener grasp of human nature. He was a strange mixture of vanity and modesty. His success and his aloofness inspired resentment yet he made few enemies. His funeral in 1931 was probably the largest in Australia to that time.

His abiding passion during and after the war was due recognition for the achievements of the AIF. As with most great Australians he is largely forgotten. Perhaps his memory will be reignited by the opening of the Sir John Monash Centre so close to the hills and valleys where his leadership allowed the Australians Corps to leave its mark on world history.