Hilary John Broderick

Hilary John Broderick, whose mother lived at 39 the Corso, Manly, enlisted in August 1914, and was a driver at Gallipoli. However, he was keen for a taste of infantry life, and on meeting a mate, Private Thomas McConville, in the trenches, he was able to arrange a transfer to McConville’s platoon in the 3rd Battalion. On 8th August 1915, the platoon was part of the assault on the enemy position at Lone Pine. Broderick got to the very edge of the Turkish front trench, but was shot in the head and died instantly. Two months after his mother was informed of her son’s death, she received in the mail his final letter, written on 4th August. The letter was later printed in the Manly Daily, and a cutting survives in Driver Broderick’s war service record in the National Archives.

He wrote:

“Gallipoli, August 4, 1915. When I wrote you last I was to go under an operation for tonsillitis, but they would not operate in Egypt on account of the danger of septic poisoning. Well, I was discharged for duty, and was sent over here in mistake. I wanted to come, so I was glad of the chance. When I got here I joined up with the Infantry, and have had a rather quiet time of it, although every now and again a shell comes over just to let you know there still are Turks in front. You feel funny when you hear the first one coming. I was looking for Tom McConville when I got baptised. I saw the chaps all duck as she came singing overhead, and I laughed at them, thinking it was miles away – but not for long. She struck the trench just over our heads. I got smothered with dust and dirt, and when the next one came along I tried hard to take no notice, but I couldn’t help it – I just had to duck. You are not frightened. It’s instinct that makes you do it; but I’m like the rest now. When you hear the shells whistling you can tell whether they are likely to worry you or not. I am better satisfied now that I am in the Infantry, for we will see some of it now, and that’s what we came here for. I always felt as if I had “cold feet” while in the B.A.C., stuck over there doing nothing in Egypt, while our comrades were here fighting for all they were worth. I saw my chance of coming over, and took it. They might not miss me in the BAC for a month of two, as the OC thought I was to go to England. I hope not, for I’ll have a chance of making good here, and then there will be no likelihood of going back. By the way, my new address will be ‘Private H J Broderick, No 582, No 9 Platoon, C Company, 3rd Battalion.’ I still have the same number, and am a private instead of driver. If you have a difficulty with my pay you can tell them where I am, and it will soon be fixed up again. I will only be drawing a shilling a day for the future, as I had to throw up a shilling when I gave up driving and became a private in the Infantry; but I daresay I’ll have to manage one thing. If I haven’t got it I can’t spend it. We get “bonser” tucker here – a lot better than when we were in camp in Egypt.Well, I will have to close this. I am writing in the trenches. Will be in the firing line tonight for the first time, but it’s safer there than in most places. So ta-ta. Give my love to Vera and Molly. Tell Vera she ought to come over as a nurse. She ought to have enough experience now. Anyhow, having a couple of brothers might help her to get away.”

Private McConville was wounded and was hospitalised for some weeks, but wrote to Driver Broderick’s mother on 3rd September 1915, giving his account of events.

He wrote:

“Dear Mrs Broderick, It is indeed with deep regret that I am writing this letter, but, being such a close friend of your late son Hilary, I felt it my duty to enlighten you on his movements immediately previous to his sudden end. On Tuesday morning, August the 5th (by mistake being sent from base details camp to the Dardanelles with some returning wounded), he took advantage of the chance of going through our trenches, and, asking for, found myself in the 3rd Battalion lines. He then told me that he had not up to then seen active service, and that his heart was with the Infantry, asking me to get him transferred to my Company, if possible. I saw the Captain, and the necessary arrangements were made, so that he immediately joined No 9 Platoon of C Company, 3rd Battalion 1st Brigade, the same platoon as myself. We had long talks together during the lulls in the firing, of old times, and many a plan we made together for when we returned; but, as man proposes and God disposes, such things were not to be.

On Thursday, we were told that within 48 hours the 1st brigade would take part in one of the biggest movements yet attempted, and we were all in high spirits, although in a vague way, we understood that for some of use it would be the last fight. On Thursday night we were taken out of the trenches and rested till Friday at noon, when we moved round to the position our attack was to start from. All the afternoon we were on pins and needles – very few words were spoken. At 5pm the order came to prepare and at 5.25 on the afternoon of Friday Aug 8th, the order came to charge. Every man scaled the parapet at the same time, to be met with a terrific shell, machine gun and rifle fire. Men were falling everywhere. It took about 20 seconds to reach the first line of the enemy’s trench. It was on the very parapet of this trench that poor Hilary went under. He was shot in the centre of the forehead and through the brain. It was an instantaneous death for he never moved or spoke after he fell. The fight was very fierce all night. He was buried on Saturday morning with all military honours that could be afforded under fire.

Although dear Madam, it is a very heavy blow to you and yours, you must feel great consolation to know how bravely he went under, facing an entrenched enemy undaunted, and he died for the great cause of freedom and for AUSTRALIA. Dear Mrs Broderick, I have no more to tell you now. I have his military leggings which I will endeavour to keep and bring home to you when I return. Please convey my deep and heartfelt sympathy to his sister Vera and accept same for yourself. From your son’s close friend,Thomas J McConville.

PS I would have written sooner but was myself wounded and contracted ‘Acute Interitis’ which nearly laid me low.”

Private McConville was wounded in 1917, but survived the war, and returned to Australia in October 1918. He settled at Randwick. Hilary Broderick was involved in the shooting death of his father at Crookwell in 1910; however the Attorney-General declined to prosecute.