1941, Thursday 16 October;
They were in a private dining room, in the Windsor Hotel, Melbourne, just the two of them, dinner with a nice couple of big lamb chops each and a glass of St Hubert’s Cabernet Sauvignon, an Australian wine that he’d never heard of. It wasn’t too bad, in fact it was quite passable. Gort leaned forward, a cut of lamb, ready on his fork, “So tell me Vernon, how is Bennett with the promotion?” Lt Gen Vernon Sturdee, Chief of the Australian General Staff, gave a small smile, “As expected Tiger, he didn’t like it, didn’t like it one bit, but he’s made so many enemies, pretty much no one is siding with him, how can he complain about a promotion they say, no he’s alone on this. I pity the officers serving under him, I’ll expect a rash of transfer requests in the next few months. How are you getting along with Syd”
Gort finished chewing through his mouthful of lamb, savouring the taste. “Rowell is excellent, has fitted in well with everybody, with him on board I’m much happier promoting a pre-emptive push into Thailand. In my mind, that’s clearly the key to holding Malaya, it buys time for Godwin-Austen to have his Indians ready, and hopefully enough reinforcements from Britain. By the way, thank you for supporting Syd by sending all those second line reinforcements for the Australian Eighth”.
“Well, if you do get the authority to launch such a venture, I want my Australian Division to be as ready as it can be, because the whole affair could get very brutal. And speaking of brutal, how you going to swing it with Churchill, I’m told he’s almost impossible to work for, more wine Tiger”. Gort nodded, chewing through another mouthful, as Sturdee emptied the bottle into his glass, careful to leave the dregs at the bottom. He looked around at a small waitress, smartly dressed, standing against a far wall, “Another bottle please Lily”. The maid curtsied, “Certainly sir” pleased he had remembered her name.
Gort dabbed his mouth with his napkin, and cleared his throat, “Well it won’t be easy that’s for sure, I’m not Churchills favourite, I’m still working off the penance for my perceived failings in France, but I tell you what Vernon, I’m not going to let him hang me out to dry with any vague orders, it will be my decision or he will have to take responsibility for what happens. So, changing the subject, how well did my meeting go with Prime Minister Curtin today, will he support us?”
“Well, you’ve certainly got his attention Tiger, that speech you made about Singapore being the frontline defence of Australia, and the need to support the Dutch better, you were very direct with Australia needing to do more. I’ve only met him a few times, but he’s not one to hang about, if something needs doing, he’ll do it. But remember, he’s Australian, and proud of it, Australia first is his cry, so be mindful of what you ask of us”.
“Yes, message received and understood, so what will he do about supporting the Dutch, some of their garrisons on the outer lying islands desperately need shoring up, you have no more troops to send, the last of the AIF, the 27th Brigade is in Malay with the rest of the 8th Division now. Are you going to raise more AIF troops?”
The door opened and the waitress returned, bottle in hand. “Would you like me to open it General” Sturdee grunted, swallowing a mouthful of lamb. The waitress deftly pulled the cork out with her corkscrew. “Ah thank you Lily, that’s lovely just leave it there my girl”. The waitress placed the wine bottle on the table, bobbed, and walked back to her station, by the wall, thrilled to be in the presence of such dignitaries. She’d never served anyone so important, and if it wasn’t for Elizabeth going sick, she wouldn’t have had the opportunity, oh wait till she got home and told mum and dad.
“Some more wine Tiger?”, Sturdee held the bottle close to Gort’s glass, offering to pour. “Yes, please Vernon, where does it come from, it’s quite good you know”. Sturdee poured wine into the cut glass, turning the bottles neck by a turn of his wrist to stop a drip, then he turned to refill his own glass. “Yarra River valley, they’ve been growing grapes down there for over 75 years, getting quite good at it now.
I don’t think we’ll raise another AIF contingent, its morally wrong that we rely on volunteers to do all the work defending the nation, no there’s a lot of talk about making the conscripted militia do more, although that’s going to take some changes to the law to allow us to use them as garrison troops in the Dutch East Indies. By the way that’s terrible news about that Dutch fellow’s death, Berenschot, the plane was a Lodestar wasn’t it, I think that’s a similar plane to the one in the Canberra air disaster that Brudenell White and those ministers were lost in August a year ago. Does make you think twice before taking off in one of those. What are the Dutch going to do, who’s going to replace him?
“It’s a disaster Vernon, a bloody disaster, Berenschot was very good, if he said he would do something, he did it, no having to remind him, I felt we were very much working off the same page. Oh, I know he had the interests of the Dutch first, at heart, but he understood us as well, had an easy manner about him. Lt Gen Hein ter Poorten has replaced him, he’s about as exciting as old bread, blunt and dour, he will be so much harder to work with. Poorten will continue whats been agreed but don’t expect too much initiative from him. Yes, it’s terrible news indeed”.
“Well, look, listen Tiger, old chap, keep me posted on how things are going with your discussions with Churchill, I can have Curtin put some pressure on him, after all its our boys that would be going into the lion’s mouth so to speak”. “Thank you, Vernon, I’ll do that, that would be most helpful, cheers” and they clinked glasses before draining them, both well on their way to getting thoroughly plastered.