Peter S. Sadler, The paladin: a life of Major-General Sir John Gellibrand.
Clark, Chris
Peter S. Sadler, The paladin: a life of Major-General Sir John
Gellibrand, Oxford University Press, Melbourne, 2000, x + 310 pp.,
illustrations, maps, bibliography, index, hard cover, rrp A$39.95
John Gellibrand was a Tasmanian-born Briton who initially sought to
make his career in the British army. His plan started out well, seeing
him win first place in the entrance examination for Sandhurst and
graduating top of his class in 1893. After initially stewing about
whether he would get to South Africa in time to see any action, he did
reach there and fought well--even if it was without winning special
distinction. As a captain he took more than the usual interest in his
profession, cultivating habits of thought and expression which made him
stand out in an officer corps which was not notably intellectual. He was
selected for Staff College, and on graduation in 1907 went to Ceylon,
where he served several years in a frustrating staff appointment before
quitting the army in April 1912 to grow fruit at Risdon, outside Hobart.
Two and a half years later came the First World War. Surprisingly,
the British army was not in a hurry to get him back. Nor was Australia
especially eager to have him, even though it faced enormous problems
finding officers for the Australian Imperial Force (AIF), the
expeditionary contingent which it had offered to raise for overseas
service. In the whole of the Australian peacetime forces there were only
eight staff college graduates, and two of these were officers on
secondment from the British army. Even when his services were taken up,
with an appointment to the headquarters staff of the newly-raised 1st
Australian Division, Gellibrand found his experience and advice
frequently devalued or ignored. He was very much a friendless figure in
the club-like atmosphere of Australia's small military
establishment.
Despite being something of an outsider, and clashing frequently
with his irascible divisional chief, Major General William Bridges,
Gellibrand advanced steadily within the officer ranks of the AIF. He
seems to have found life more congenial on the staff of the 2nd
Division, to which he was transferred in the middle of the Gallipoli
campaign, although the author of this biography does not examine why he
evidently flourished when his new divisional commander, Major General
Gordon Legge, was, by most other accounts, a driving workaholic. Perhaps
there was mutual intellectual respect. His opportunity for command of a
battalion came in the month that Gallipoli was evacuated, and by March
1916 --following the doubling of the AIF--Gellibrand was a temporary
brigadier general leading his own infantry brigade, the 6th. There have
been suggestions that, as a staff-trained ex-regular whose skills were
at a premium in a volunteer army like Australia's, his progress
ought to have been even more rapid. On the other hand, Gellibrand's
rise was almost exactly paralleled by other contemporaries with like
qualifications: Duncan John Glasfurd being a case in point.
Not unnaturally, Gellibrand aspired to command of a division of his
own. The opportunity nearly came in January 1917, but a bout of
influenza and problems with his teeth robbed him of appointment on that
occasion. Instead he found himself under a new GOC at 2nd Division,
Major General Neville Smyth, a VC-adorned British officer with whom he
was again out of sympathy. While he could not understand Smyth, he found
he totally despised the division's chief of staff,
Lieutenant-Colonel A. H. Bridges (actually a cousin of his first AIF
chief), whom he privately referred to as a "swine". There are
hints that Gellibrand understood that his name was under consideration
for divisional command on other occasions, but the appointment did not
finally come until May 1918, six months before the Armistice, when he
took over the 3rd Division upon John Monash's assumption of command
of the Australian Corps.
Even if the prize of a division came late in the war for him,
Gellibrand undoubtedly was a figure who merits a scholarly study such as
this one. In the 30 months he had on the Western Front, he fought his
way through 14 engagements at brigade and divisional level. His
performance attracted many admirers, among them Australia's
official historian Charles Bean, who intended to write Gellibrand's
biography himself until forced to abandon the idea because of other
commitments and his own bad health.
It has fallen to Peter Sadler, a British-born ex-regular soldier
and officer in the Australian army, to carry the project to fruition.
Sadly, Sadler died last year after a lengthy battle with cancer, but it
can be said that his efforts have done full justice to the subject. The
author came to the serious study of history only after retiring in 1983,
enrolling at the Australian National University in 1987, where he
completed an honours degree five years later. As a writer, he has
brought to this project a deep knowledge of military organisation, life
and practices, along with professional understanding of tactical
considerations, and matched this with incisive analysis of documentary
and other historical sources. The result is an outstanding work, which
this reader found lucid and illuminating.
The story which Sadler produces out of the life of Gellibrand is
thorough and balanced, and brings the reader to an understanding of the
makeup of this complex character. We see Gellibrand as a young man, slow
to shed some indolent habits acquired in his "bohemian"
teenage years, and as a less-than-diligent subaltern who frequently
overslept, missed parades and appointments, and displayed slackness in
performing administrative tasks. When taken with an annoying and
baffling sense of humour, and a view of himself as an outsider in the
military system which caused him to loathe life in the officers mess, we
can appreciate more fully the reasons for his lack of progress in the
British army. The same cachet hung about him in the AIF, based on his
supposedly rustic uniform and fixed ideas. In truth, Sadler suggests,
Gellibrand was simply living close to his men, but it gave scope for
jealous enemies--including that famous paragon of military virtue,
Brudenell White--to ridicule a figure they genuinely feared as a
potential rival.
One feature of Gellibrand's ideas upon which the author
particularly comments, more than once, is the chivalrous ideal on which
the young Gellibrand consciously modelled himself, embodied in the
mythical example of the paladins. These were the twelve legendary peers
or famous warriors of Charlemagne's court in medieval times, and
their exploits are celebrated in the French romantic epics known as
chansons de geste, which focus on Charlemagne as the champion of
Christianity and chivalry. In English, the term has come to carry the
same meaning as "Knight of the Round Table", referring to a
knight-errant or hero. According to Sadler, the personal philosophy
based on paladin ideals which Gellibrand developed was to serve him
throughout his life. It's a charming explanation for the way that
Gellibrand viewed and judged the world and the conduct of those around
him. But it does not mean that everything he attempted was nobly
inspired or had heroic outcomes.
His performance as public service commissioner in post-war Tasmania
was, frankly, dismal, as was his period as chief commissioner of police
in Victoria. Although the machinations of politicians played a part in
both instances, there was little point to Gellibrand trying to maintain
a principled position on the moral high ground. Being a successful
figure in public office means making things work, achieving as much as
is possible in the circumstances, not simply throwing up one's
hands in disgust and resigning when one's advice is ignored. Judged
on this standard, Gellibrand showed none of the skill, resourcefulness
or determination he had previously mustered on a different field of
conflict, and he can be fairly criticized as a failure. Even less astute
was his time in politics; little wonder the electors of Denison threw
him out after a single term.
More credible, especially in light of his paladin philosophy, was
Gellibrand's work for the Legacy movement. His role in founding the
Remembrance Club in Hobart in 1922 was the inspiration for the network
of clubs which subsequently arose to care for widows and children of
deceased servicemen. It was Bean who later wrote that "there was a
time when some of thought that the best monument to John Gellibrand
might be the story of Second Bullecourt. Now I feel there will be an
even better--the record of Legacy." Both on the field of battle and
off, Gellibrand was a figure who deserves to be better recognized and
understood by Australians. This important book achieves that goal
admirably.
CHRIS CLARK, Australian War Memorial