
(Left) General Bridges; (centre) Sandy in Egypt; (right) Sandy’s head formerly displayed at the Australian War Memorial
In July 2015 I was contacted by Rosemary Johns, a Melbourne playwright who was then completing a script presenting the story of “Sandy”—the horse described as the favourite charger of Major-General William Bridges, the commander of the 1st Australian Division while that formation trained in Egypt before the failed Dardanelles campaign of 1915. She had been inspired to start working on this project after reading an article I wrote for the Australian War Memorial’s Wartime magazine in 2002, which referred to the claim made in the World War I official history that Sandy was the only one of more than 135,000 horses sent from Australia during the war which was brought home.
Originally it had been believed that Sandy returned to Australia at the same time as General Bridges’ body, after he died from a wound received at Gallipoli. The horse supposedly played a part in his master’s funeral procession through the streets of Melbourne in September 1915 before the general’s remains were taken to Canberra for burial overlooking the Royal Military College at Duntroon—the institution which Bridges founded in 1911.
In fact that belief was incorrect because, as my article showed, it was actually more than three years later that the horse made it back to Australia’s shores. After the Australian Imperial Force withdrew from Gallipoli at the end of 1915, Sandy went with the infantry divisions sent to France to join in fighting on the Western Front, and it was from there that he was eventually returned, in response to the wish of defence minister George Pearce that the horse should be turned out to graze at Duntroon.
Again, my article showed that the Duntroon part of the plan was never realised; Sandy actually lived out his days at the army’s remount depot at Maribyrnong, in the western suburbs of Melbourne. It was there that he was finally granted what was termed ‘a merciful end’ in 1923, after blindness and debility overtook him. After he was put down, his head and neck was preserved by taxidermists and later put on exhibit at the War Memorial; that morbid relic is still in the Memorial’s collection but no longer displayed. Sandy’s remains lie buried in an unmarked grave at the site of the former remount depot—all except his hooves, which were taken to serve as ashtrays on the desks of a select group of high military and political officials.
Rosemary Johns had gleaned from this story enough material to script an account of Sandy’s life told in three short acts—first through the eyes of Bridges at Gallipoli, then an unnamed veterinary officer who rode Sandy while the horse was attached to a veterinary hospital in France (until the officer was killed in a gas attack), and finally by Private Archibald Jordan, the medically unfit soldier who accompanied Sandy back to Australia as his groom. Something of a sad coincidence had been unearthed in that Jordan died in Melbourne only three months after Sandy, and ended up in an unmarked grave in Box Hill cemetery.
The play, titled ‘As told by the boys who fed me apples’, made it to the stage last November during the Big West Festival, which is a major contemporary arts and cultural festival held in Melbourne’s western suburbs every two years. Six performances were presented in the Beanland Theatre on Victoria University’s campus at Footscray over 24-28 November, the second-last being a matinee show that was followed by a Q&A with Rosemary and others connected with the production. The latter included the two actors who carried the show—one playing Sandy, the other performing all three speaking roles! Because of the advice and ‘inspiration’ Rosemary felt I had given her, she was very keen for me to participate in the post-performance session.
All in all, I found it an entirely new experience to see something that had emanated from my historical writing brought to life on stage. Having written several biographies over the years I could never have imagined that it would be the story of a horse that provided the spark for later dramatic interpretation. I was even more surprised to encounter the passionate views of many of those present at the Q&A that more should be done to commemorate the horses sent to World War I from Australia, with some even urging that Sandy’s grave should be relocated and properly marked. Clearly, for many horse-lovers out there the monument unveiled in 2009 at Canberra, in the outdoor exhibition area at the Australian War Memorial, expressly to remember all animals who served with Australian troops in war, is simply not enough—even though the main feature of the memorial is a horse’s head.