Walter Watt's story of First World War service

Born in 1878, at Bournemouth in England, Walter Oswald Watt – better known as Toby – was the youngest son of a Scottish-born father and an Australian mother. In 1900, at the age of 22, he was commissioned Second Lieutenant in the New South Wales Scottish Rifles. Then, back in England, he learnt to fly in just 3 weeks at the Salisbury Plain Bristol School, only a few years before the war. He was a pioneer in Australian aviation – reportedly 'the first Australian military officer to obtain an aviator certificate, and the first to loop the loop. Toby recognised the potential future of aviation in the military context. He reflected,

I think there is an enormous future for the machines for military work. The possibilities, so far as I can judge, are absolutely boundless.

Returning to Australia after university, Toby became a grazier, buying cattle stations in New South Wales and Queensland. In 1913, he spent a few months in Egypt, flying his Bleriot aircraft. In 1914, Toby could see the potential of a European war horizon. He made his way from Egypt to France, where he offered his services as a pilot to the French Foreign Legion. Soon enough, he was in combat over France. He wrote of his exploits,

Just a line from the great battle of Aisne to wish you well. I am flying two-seated Bleriot for the French army and have been over the German line several times on reconnaissance. We fly 2,000 to 2,400 meters high – nearly 1 ½ miles – and yet the shells fired from special guns sometimes burst above us. They are rotten shots, thank heavens!

During one reconnaissance mission, he was forced to land his aircraft in no-man's land due to engine trouble. Under fire, Toby and his observer sought cover behind a haystack. Toby recounted the incident in a letter in October 1914.

The Germans were 700 yards away, the French 300 or so, and our haystack we hid behind was only 15 metres (a very short cricket pitch) away from the machine. After that, we ran for it and they shelled us again en route, and fired on us all the time with their rifles, but neither of us were touched. It was perfectly astounding, and the French, when I walked into the trench very blown, would not believe I wasn't hit.

For his service in the French Foreign Legion, Toby was awarded the Legion d'Honneur and the Croix de Guerre. As Toby honed his skills as a military aviator over France, the Australian Flying Corps began training its pilots in Australia. In early 1913, the Australian Army's Central Flying School was established at Point Cook in Victoria. The first trainees learnt on aircraft like the flimsy Bristol Box Kite, training at dawn and dusk to avoid the wind at low altitudes of between 15 and 60 metres. The initial training courses in Australia were rudimentary, with some trainees undertaking as little as 2 hours of solo flying before graduating. They required extensive further training overseas before flying on active service. Towards the end of 1916, the men of No 2 Squadron left Australia for overseas service. Arriving in England, they spent months in flight training and learning the battle techniques of aerial warfare from experienced fliers. Recruits could experience a sense of exhilaration in training. Fred Cornish reflected on the thrill of flying,

Pupils who are more advanced are given tiny scouts, called 'pups', to manage. These machines are the finest thing in the world to fly. You travel at about 100 miles an hour and can throw them about anyhow. Well, these chaps spoil golfers' strokes by flying low along the ground and suddenly zooming up over their heads. The sensation is absolutely fine. You have your complete sense of speed and you have to follow every curve of the ground.

But learning to fly was also inherently dangerous. The graves of many Australians buried in England serve as testament to the fragility of life in the air. In 1917. While training in England, Thomas Edols wrote,

A poor chap was killed here yesterday. I had just looped when his machine shut down in front of me, absolutely out of control, with the wings folded back ... he only missed me by about fifty yards. When I got down to him, he was quite dead.

The Australian squadrons began to arrive in France from September 1917. Toby Watt returned to France, now as squadron leader of No 2 Squadron, Australian Flying Corps. Once in the skies above the Western Front, it was not long before the airmen of the AFC faced aerial combat. Sometimes, these encounters ended in tragedy, with an airman killed or missing an action. But often, pilots nursed their damaged aircraft back to base. On the 20th of November 1917, Lieutenant Leslie Holden's plane was seriously damaged by enemy aircraft as he flew back to base. The official war diary recorded that 'everything was shot through'. But Holden had escaped injury – his boots were hit with bullets, which remarkably did not injure his legs. Dangers could also come from the ground. Low-level flying made planes vulnerable to anti-aircraft fire. On the same day that Holden encountered enemy aircraft, Captain John Bell's plane was hit by ground fire, which pierced its oil and petrol tanks. Bell himself was hit in the chest. Mortally wounded, he was admitted to a casualty clearing station, where he lingered until the 27th of December and then died. Life as an AFC pilot on the Western Front was one of intense contrast. One part of the day might be consumed by the pressure and dangers of aerial warfare, while the remainder was lived in relative comfort and peace. One pilot reflected on a typical day,

We left the ground at 10 am sharp, and in less than 15 minutes we were over the lines taking photographs. After taking all we wanted, we came home again without anything unusual happening. I had to go up again at noon, and at one o'clock, I was back again having a perfectly good lunch, and free for the rest of the day. What more can we desire under the circumstances?

But even in these moments of relative peace, thoughts of lost friends and future combat could linger in an airman's mind. Many were grateful for inclement weather and non-flying days. In February 1918, Watt, now a Lieutenant Colonel, took command of the 4 AFC training squadrons recently arrived in England. Meanwhile, No 2 Squadron continued its contribution to the air war, supporting ground troops and battling for air superiority during the German Spring Offensive. In June, the squadron supported French forces during the Marne Offensive. In the final months of the war, the squadron relocated its base frequently in support of the Allied advance. With the war over in November 1918, both Watt and No 2 Squadron returned to Australia in 1919. A much-admired leader, Watt continued to support returned AFC men in civilian life, making efforts to find them employment. Though he was kept occupied with numerous business interests, he enjoyed opportunities to swim at his weekend residence at Bilgola Beach. One late autumn morning in 1921, Toby went out for his usual swim and never returned. It is believed he was collecting driftwood on the rocks when he slipped and fell into the water. Fishermen later recovered Toby's body. Following a funeral with full military honours, his ashes were interred at St Jude's churchyard in Randwick. The memory of his flying prowess and leadership aviation lives on in the Oswald Watt Gold Medal Award. Tributes referred to him as 'strong and fearless in the face of danger, but gentle in all other things ... a model of unselfishness modesty, generosity and true friendship.'