Gallipoli 2015: Canberra musician uncovers story of WWI trumpeter Sergeant Ted McMahon
/A Canberra musician and World War I researcher's eight-year search for the identity of an Australian trumpeter in Gallipoli has come to a triumphant conclusion.
Every night as the sun used to sink down, he used to play his trumpet. The firing on both sides came to a standstill when this happened.
Musicians have long played a part in lifting the spirits of troops on the battlefield and Anzac Centenary Cultural Fund Fellow Chris Latham is dedicated to telling their stories.
Mr Latham's interest in musicians on the frontline was piqued several years ago when he heard a story about an Australian trumpeter in Gallipoli whose evening songs would bring the fighting to a standstill.
"The story started when I began working on the Gallipoli Symphony in 2005, and began researching the music that was played there," he said.
"A Turkish amateur historian, a guy called Mr Bacri told a colleague of mine about this story of an Australian trumpet player who played a song called Un peu d'amour."
The account came from a Turkish officer who wrote about the song which he said was played at sunset.
After hearing the story Mr Latham began his search for the trumpeter's identity.
Three years ago he found an account in the Australian War Memorial's oral records from the 1970s by Colonel James Lumsden McKinley about a trumpeter in a West Australian battalion stationed at Quinn's Post.
Every night as the sun used to sink down, he used to play his trumpet. The firing on both sides came to a standstill when this happened, I suppose because he used to play [things like] Silent Night … and he'd let everybody around hear [it] just as the sun went down.
Of course, the Aussies never fired, neither did the Turks, and on one occasion I happened to be passing along through the canal [trench] just as he was about to play and I thought, 'I'll have a look over and see what the Turks are doing'.
Through a peephole in the side of the thing I noticed the Turks, when he finished, put their hands above the parapets clapping or else belting tins or something just to show how much they appreciated our trumpeter playing Silent Night.
- Account by Colonel James Lumsden McKinley, Australian War Memorial
"I think even if you're Turkish and you're hearing [Silent Night] that's beautiful," Mr Latham said.
"That's just a tune that goes across language and culture and there's no way you're not going to stop shooting."
Diaries of a World War I trumpeter
Mr Latham encountered the name Sergeant Ted McMahon in piece by military historian Wes Olsen and suspected he had found the trumpeter's identity, but late last week he found the proof he needed.
Sergeant McMahon's step-granddaughter Kerry Everett contacted Mr Latham with diaries of her grandfather's own account of the war.
On arriving on Gallipoli we found conditions rather tough, and lacking of any amenities for the troops. So naturally it was left to ourselves to make our own way in providing a little relaxation between our spells of duty in the lines. I would sit in my dugout in Reserve Gully at night and play my trumpet to the boys with a handkerchief in the bell to drown the sound.
General Monash, then in command of the Fourth Brigade A.I.F, sent for me on the afternoon of August 3rd, and asked me to arrange a camp fire concert in Reserve Gully where all the troops Indian, New Zealand and Australian were to be assembled and move out at midnight to start the offensive.
The Turks were only a few yards away from our trenches on the hills above the Gully, and every round of applause from each item bought a vicious burst of machine gun and rifle fire.
I chose a number entitled the Rosary composed by Ethelbert Nevin (a German). It was a worldwide popular item at that time being published in German, French, Italian and English. I might mention that the Turkish Army at the time had many German officers, and naturally any of them being musical would know the Rosary.
As I started to play on this beautiful quiet night when the sound of my trumpet would carry for a considerable distance, a real barrage of small arms fire broke out.
During the second verse only spasmodic shots could be heard, and as I started to play the final verse all was still: not a sound could be heard.
The charm of music had cast a spell over all, and for a time the war was forgotten.
- Exerpt from the diary of Sergeant Ted McMahon
Mr Latham, who has worked as artistic director for the Canberra International Music Festival and Voices in the Forest, plans to recreate that concert next month on April 12 at the High Court.
"The whole point of it is that I've always had this belief that music's true role is to heal people, and I'm just so amazed to see that in these diaries Ted McMahon speaks of that fascination of music soothing the breasts of war-hardened men, and that they felt that it was their role.
"I've always been quite proud of the fact that musicians, they're very true to their nature, they're very un-bloodthirsty in the battlefield and they're primarily concerned with trying to look after their fellow soldier."