THE Great War, now known as World War I, reached its conclusion in a rail car in France and a cease-fire was declared to take place at the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month of 1918 – 11am, 11.11.18.
The day has been celebrated ever since as the day peace came to the world after the ‘war to end all wars.’
Later on, other wars were also commemorated on that date but it is still regarded as a World War I memorial date.
Australia joined The Great War from the beginning and it’s first major engagement came at Gallipoli, Turkey, in 1915 and while many soldiers are remembered for their acts of bravery and self-sacrifice and names became legends, only one man gained the name, ‘The Assassin of Gallipoli,’ Trooper William Edward (Billy) Sing DCM, Croix de Guerre, of the Fifth Light Horse Regiment.
It was a Queensland unit and its officers and men were primarily from the country areas. Trooper Sing, like most of his fellow members of the Regiment, had grown up and worked with horses in the Australian bush.
Part of their cumulative stock-in-trade was an ability to ride well, estimate distance carefully, track strayed stock and animal pests, and to fire both rifle and shotgun accurately.
Sing's considerable skills with a rifle were well-known in his central Queensland home district, even before the outbreak of War. He was a member of the Proserpine Rifle Club and a leading kangaroo shooter around his home town of Clermont.
Sing signed his enlistment papers at Proserpine on October 24, 1914, and became a member of the First AIF. Billy Sing travelled by ship to Brisbane and after a brief period of training, the ship set sail for Egypt. It was five days before Christmas 1914.
The men of the Fifth Light Horse chaffed at the bit during April, 1915. They cooled their spurred heels on the Egyptian desert, while a few hundred kilometers away their infantry colleagues were creating Australian history at Gallipoli.
The rising casualty toll on the peninsula saw Sing and his mates embark for the Dardanelles on May 16.
For the first month, the Light Horse men were scattered through the Infantry Battalions to gain some experience, but, by mid-June, they had farewelled their foot-slogger comrades and rejoined their Regiment, when it moved to the seaward side of Bolton's Ridge.
In honour of a young English-born Light Horse officer, the new position was called Chatham's Post. It was here Billy Sing’s shooting expertise stood out and his lethal occupation as a sniper began. The sniper's daily modus operandi began with his taking up his 'possie' in the pre-dawn darkness. This, and the fact he rarely left the area until well after dusk, ensured there was no tell-tale movement near him during the daylight hours.
Once Sing and his spotter were in position and had settled in, the true discipline of maintaining a quiet and motionless patience began. This was not a job for fidgeters. It demanded infinite resolution, an almost unconscious yet alert tranquility and the steady pursuit of professional perfection - snipers rarely get a second shot at a specific target.
The equipment available to the Australian snipers at Gallipoli was basic and, in some cases, nothing more than the standard-issue Short Magazine Lee Enfield (SMLE) No. 1 Mark III .303 calibre rifle.
However, there is evidence that some former rifle club members were allowed to take their own privately purchased weapons with them when they left Australia.
Some of these same sporting shooters used rifles which had been fitted with various target and peep sights, primarily the ‘Lattey optical sight’ but, in the end, the fundamental qualifications were above-average eyesight and a cold-blooded resolve.
Sing, a methodical man, encompassed, exemplified and expanded upon all of these characteristics. His uncompromising commitment and business-like approach impressed the British commander, General (later Lord) W.R. Birdwood and other senior officers.
Major (later Lieutenant-Colonel) S. Midgely of the Fifth Light Horse, once candidly asked Billy how he really felt about killing men in cold blood. Sing replied that shooting "the illegitimates" had not caused him to lose any sleep.
It was steely comments like these - and prominent personalities such as Billy Sing - that gave Australian commanders on Gallipoli opportunities to boost the morale of battle-weary troops.
It was probably with official blessing that word of Sing's steadily mounting macabre tally was passed mouth-to-mouth like a cricket score, along the Allied trench-lines.
It was careless soldiers, as well as raw Turkish reinforcements, who presented easy targets of opportunity for the Anzac snipers. The nervous curiosity of these new-comers compelled them to snatch quick and often fatal glances over the parapet toward the Australian trenches. The actual area presented by their momentarily exposed bodies was minimal from the front. But it was the view from the flanks of the zigzagging trenches that gave a chance to the waiting Allied marksmen.
One of Sing’s better known spotters was Ion ‘Jack’ Idriess (author of ‘Desert Column,’ ‘Cattle King,’ ‘Lassetter's Last Ride’ and many other books on Australian history).
Idriess described the world of the sniper as being like a cat watching a wall with many mouse holes. Behind the holes worked the cautious mice, with ever-watchful felines waiting for just one mistake.
As the campaign moved on and Sing's persistence and accuracy took their toll, it was inevitable a response would come from the Turks.
At first, orthodox military methodology was applied to put an end to the Australian who had taken out as many as nine of the enemy in a single day. One such Turkish reaction saw Sing's growing confidence shaken by a very near miss, one quiet morning in late August at Chatham's.
Sing and his observer, on this occasion Trooper Tom Sheehan, sat silently surveying the enemy trenches, waiting for an unthinking mouse to appear. Their eyes and telescope swept the ground to the front, seeking the almost imperceptible giveaway signs.
A Turkish marksman with a similar intent seized upon a sudden and inadvertent movement in the Australian sniping team and fired on them. His shot passed through Sheehan's telescope, end to end, wounding the Australian in both hands, before entering his mouth and coming out his left cheek. The almost-spent bullet travelled on, striking Sing in the right shoulder.
Tom Sheehan was evacuated to Australia to reflect on his own mortality. It was another week before Billy Sing was physically and psychologically able to climb back up to his elevated ‘possie.’
The next attempt by the Turks to clear their left flank of the unrelenting Australian sniper was more formidable.
Reports of these efforts came to light later, from accounts by Turkish prisoners, as well as translated extracts from diaries removed from the bodies of their dead.
The Turks sent for their own champion near the centre of the front line.
The Australian’s called him ‘Abdul the Terrible’ and he was a marksman of great skill who probably relished the challenge of taking out the Australian sniper.
‘Abdul’ had already been decorated by the Sultan for his proficiency and brought with him a determination which matched Billy Sing's.
The Turk, in order to find Sing’s position, attended the sight of every sniping victim where he would thoughtfully examine the spot and reconstruct each fatal shot.
By doing this, he was able to determine the angle of trajectory and direction from entry and exit wounds and the stance of the victim at the moment of impact as recounted by those who stood nearby.
His calculations led him to gaze consistently towards Harris Ridge and then on one specific location – a small rise on the heights at Chatham’s Post.
At last he had found the lair of the too-efficient Australian killer.
The Turk selected a suitable firing position.
In the darkness of each night, he built his own position. When it was finished, ‘Abdul’ - like his Australian adversary - took up his post each morning well before dawn.
Many days were spent simply watching and waiting until eventually, his persistence paid off. Sing and his spotter took up their position before daybreak and as he settled himself in, the observer began his day's first semi-alert frontal sweep with the telescope. Almost immediately the man’s movement ceased and he whispered to his sniper that he already had a target.
Sing took the telescope and, glancing towards a point indicated by his spotter, he stared ahead - in the face and rifle-muzzle of ‘Abdul the Terrible.’
Carefully taking up his rifle, Sing made a final check that nothing would betray their position then gently eased the loophole cover back and cautiously pushed the weapon forward.
The Turk also saw Sing and began his own firing sequence. As he settled the rifle into his shoulder, ‘Abdul’ drew in a breath and steadily sighted it on Sing.
At that moment, a bullet struck the Turk between the eyes.
The frustrated Turks then resorted to artillery to stem Sing’s mounting tally of bodies, and with pin-point accuracy, eventually blew his position to dust – fortunately, the very first shell landed a little short which gave Sing and his spotter the chance to get away, the second shell did the damage.
Trooper Sing wasn’t just a merciless killer; he had that customary Outback Australian dry humour surrounding his daily pursuits.
This surfaced on one occasion when the Australian had as his observer, General Birdwood.
It was a windy day, not one conducive to long-range rifle accuracy. As Sing fired on a recklessly exposed Turkish head, his first shot missed, its path deflected by a fleeting gust. He waited for the wind to drop before sighting once more.
The second bullet spun a Turkish soldier out of the trench; a satisfactory effort given the blustery conditions
With a hint of virtue, mixed perhaps with unintentional irony, the poker-faced sniper told the general he would not add the latest kill to his score - he had been aiming at another Turk.
Eventually, official recognition of Sing's exceptional sniping skills began to appear. On October 23, 1915, General Birdwood issued an order announcing his compliments on Tpr Sing’s performance in accounting for 201 Turks.
The general was obviously happier in accepting the higher, but less official score. There is clear evidence the international press knew of the Queensland marksman and reports of his Gallipoli successes appeared in London and American newspapers.
In February, 1916, Sing was also mentioned in the dispatches of the Commander of the Allied forces, Sir Ian Hamilton and on March 10, Sing was awarded the Distinguished Conduct Medal for conspicuous gallantry as a sniper at Anzac.
By June, 1916, the AIF was bound for the battlefields of France and Belgium and Sing was posted to the 31st Infantry Battalion and was in France by August.
Over the next 19 months, wounds caused Sing to be frequently in and out of the line. He also suffered the recurring effects of old illnesses and injuries from Gallipoli.
During one period of recuperation, he travelled to Scotland where he met waitress Elizabeth Stewart, the 21-year-old daughter of a naval cook. They married in Edinburgh on June 29, 1917.
Once again, his worth as a soldier was recognized by the Allied High Command. In October, 1917, the Army Corps Commander expressed his appreciation for Sing's ". . . gallant service during recent operations".
This may have taken place at Polygon Wood in late September 1917, when Sing led a fighting patrol which succeeded in eliminating German snipers who were causing casualties among the Australians.
Sing was recommended for the Military Medal - for his work in identifying and dealing with German marksmen. But this was never approved.
However, early in 1918, he was awarded the Belgian Croix de Guerre, which may have been the result of the Polygon Wood action.
In July, Sing was posted to a submarine guard on an Australian-bound troopship. It had been almost four years since he had left Clermont for his grand adventure.
When Billy and Elizabeth Sing arrived in Proserpine, the town's residents turned out in force. A large procession, led by a local band, accompanied the couple from the railway station to the town hall, local dignitaries made welcoming speeches.
The transition from the green hills of Edinburgh to the dust and rough life of the mining district around Clermont was too much for Elizabeth Sing and she disappeared from her husband’s life.
As the post-war exuberance waned, Billy returned to Clermont. He moved on to a mining claim on the Miclere goldfield.
In 1942, he left the district for Brisbane. He told his sister Beatrice that it might be cheaper to live in the city.
Billy Sing’s Gallipoli reputation faded from memory with the increasing number of Anzacs who passed away each year and he took a labouring job which did little to help his poor health.
On Wednesday, May 19, 1943, William Edward Sing's aorta ruptured and he died alone in his room at the house where he boarded in 304 Montague Road, West End. He was 57.
Apart from five shillings, which were found in his room, and six pounds ten shillings and eight pence, owed to him in wages, the only thing of value left by Billy was a hut, probably on the Miclere claim, worth twenty pounds.
A pathetic postscript to the life of a man whose name was once known to an army and a nation.
- By the Australian Light Horse Association.
Warwick Daily News
