Curiosity—Stories of those who report during wartime

In the Hall of Memory at the Australian War Memorial in Canberra there are 15 stained-glass windows. Each shows a figure dressed in military uniform, and under each figure is a word which describes a quality displayed by Australians during wartime. One window features an infantryman wearing a trench mortar uniform. He represents all service men and women who have gained knowledge from enquiry, symbolised by an eye in the Egyptian style from which stream rays of light.

This window bears the word Curiosity.

Note to reader: These stories relate to war and conflict. You may feel sad after reading some of them. Teachers may wish to be sensitive to students who have family members serving overseas in war zones.

  • Curiosity—Stories of those who report during wartime
    PDF icon pdf (29.79 MB)

An Anzac story: Phillip Schuler

A beach with a very steep, rocky cliff behind it. Hundreds of soldiers and lots of equipment, including a boat, can be seen on the crowded beach. There is a wooden path stretching across and up the cliff face with more soldiers climbing along it.

Although Schuler was a correspondent rather than a photographer, he always carried a camera with him. His images taken during the Gallipoli campaign have become important historical records. This image by Schuler shows the beach at Anzac Cove on 26 August 1915. [AWM PS1475]

How might the landscape shown in this image have caused difficulties for the Australian troops?

Most Australians today are familiar with the Anzac story – the courage and mateship displayed by the Australian and New Zealand Army Corps at Gallipoli in 1915. As a correspondent for The Age newspaper, Phillip Schuler witnessed the landing at Gallipoli and several of the battles that followed. His writing and photographs from this time still shape our understanding of these events.

Although Schuler accompanied the Australian Imperial Force (AIF) as it headed to war, he was not an official war correspondent appointed by the government. This meant he did not always have access to the Australian forces. Yet his curiosity saw him go to great lengths to capture their stories. At times he had to find his own information sources, transport and observation points to watch events unfold. During the landings at Gallipoli, he based himself on a nearby island and later wrote:

The battle opened at 4.17 a.m. … the men jumped from the boats into the icy Aegean, up to their armpits sometimes, their rifles held above their heads, and slowly facing the stream of lead, waded to the shore. Eager to be free [for] action, they at once dropped their packs and charged.1

In the days after the landing, Schuler gained access to the hospital ships. His reports described the conditions faced by the wounded as ‘absolutely inadequate’, but also captured the spirit of the Anzacs:

There were men still with their first field dressings on their wounds after four or five days, whom the doctors had been unable to treat. No man minded. It was always, ‘He’s worse than I; take him first’. Such unselfishness often cost a man his arm or hand, but it meant the saving of his mate’s life.2

Did you know?

While some First World War correspondents had access to cable, others, like Schuler, had to send their reports by mail. Articles often appeared in newspapers many weeks or months after they were written. While ships were slow and risked attack, censorship by the British government also affected the delivery of mail.

How has technology changed the job of war correspondents since the First World War?

Informal black and white portrait image of Schuler wearing a military uniform. He is standing on lawn with garden plants behind him.

Schuler in uniform, probably in the garden of his family home in Melbourne, after enlisting in the AIF in April 1916. [AWM P07692.001]

How might Schuler’s experience as a correspondent have influenced his feelings about joining the AIF?

A few months later, Schuler was able to join the AIF troops on the Gallipoli peninsula and witness firsthand the August offensive. His reports about the battles at Lone Pine and The Nek were widely read and established Schuler as a respected war correspondent. When the AIF withdrew from Gallipoli in December 1915, Schuler returned to Australia and wrote the books Battlefields of Anzac and Australia in Arms, both of which described the Anzac campaign at Gallipoli.

Despite his success as a war correspondent, Schuler then surprised many by enlisting in the AIF in April 1916. He explained his decision in a letter to the British General Ian Hamilton: ‘Once the story of Anzac had been told there seemed no reason for my remaining while others died fighting’.3

After basic training in England, Schuler sailed to France in November 1916 and served on the Western Front, before being promoted to the rank of lieutenant. On 23 June 1917, Schuler was fatally wounded in Belgium. On hearing of his death, Australia’s official war correspondent, Charles Bean, wrote:

... he worked harder than almost any other war correspondent I ever knew. He wrote only what he saw. His letters were true, and only those who knew what oceans of false stuff have been poured on to the world in this war can appreciate what that means.4

Fast facts: Anzac Day

Phillip Schuler captured the significance of the Anzac landing at Gallipoli when he wrote ‘The 25th April, 1915, will ever be recorded as the day on which [Australia] became a nation’.5 Since 1916, Anzac Day has been recognised as a day of national importance. During the war years, the day was marked by ceremonies and marches in London and Australia. By 1927, it had become a public holiday across the country. Today, Anzac Day is a time to commemorate all those who have served Australia since the First World War.

Black and white image of a man sitting on sloping ground leaning against some rocks. He is wearing a casual jacket, pants, boots and a hat, and holding binoculars, a notepad and a pen.
Informal black and white portrait image of Schuler standing on the deck of a ship. He is wearing a causal jacket with several pockets, long boots and a hat.
Old style black box shaped camera, with lens that expands out of the box. It has ‘Speed Graphic’ written at the top, two eye pieces and a brown leather side handle.
Black and white image taken from inside a dark tunnel showing the light entrance to the tunnel. A soldier can be seen sitting and resting at the entrance. The edges of the image are black.
4 men in a deep trench. The men are all in uniform, and three look disheveled and dirty. The forth man is standing in an officer’s uniform and looking up towards the top of the trench. Two dead bodies can be seen above the trench, with limbs drooping in
Blue and grey toned painting depicting a battle scene. About a dozen soldiers can be seen in the bottom of the painting, standing on and behind a bunker with their weapons. In the distance smoke can be seen rising in various places on a hill.
Old style black typewriter with the word ‘CORONA’ written at the front. The letter keys are large and circular.
  • 1. Phillip Schuler, Australia in arms, T. Fisher Unwin Ltd., London, 1916, p. 104
  • 2. The Age, 16 October 1915, p. 6
  • 3. Mark Baker, Phillip Schuler, Allen & Unwin, 2016, p. 191
  • 4. Bendigonian, 13 September 1916, p. 10
  • 5. Phillip Schuler, Battlefields of Anzac, p. 2