Today, I submitted my request to the Australian Defence Department to recognize and award (posthumously) a promotion for my grandfather, Sgt. David John McCullough that he had been given prior to his death in the Fall of Singapore. Read the letter below.
(more…)Tag: David John Barlow
AKA David John McCullough (his adopted name)
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Lost Letter to my Grandmother – 76 years later
Recently, I was contacted through my website by a gentleman whose grandfather (Major Lawrence) was the commanding officer of my grandfather who was killed in WWII. The letter he wrote explained the day that my grandfather was injured, and the attempts that were taken to save his life following the bomb that was dropped near him and his men. Maj. Lawrence and many of his men were captured by the Japanese and detained in prisoner of war facility for three years until the war was over. It was at this time that he wrote the following letter. Due to unforeseen circumstances, the letter was returned as my grandmother had moved. The letter was kept in his files for over 75 years, and his grandson – Milton Taylor – was able to finally hand this over to our family this month.
Hartwell
7 Nov 1945Dear Mrs. McCullough,
Letter from Major K. P. H. Lawrence, commanding officer of Sgt. David John McCullough
So many times during the last 3½ long years as a prisoner I have wanted to write to you and now at last I have an opportunity.
Your late husband Sgt. Dave McCullough was to my mind one of the outstanding men of the Unit. His delightful personality, his tact and ability in controlling men and his quiet efficiency, endeared him to all the officers and men of the Unit, the dear old 2/10 Field Company.
When our Sergeant Major was given a Commission in Dec 1941, Dave was the logical choice for his successor and the recommendation for his appointment was on the way when he died. He was as you probably know acting in that position when he was wounded.
I was sitting alongside Dave on a grassy slope, along with another officer and several other members of the company, a few minutes before the shell landed which wounded David, the other officers and several others. I had just got up to walk across the road to inspect another position where some of my men were. The shell landed near my map case and haversack.
Dave was severely wounded in the chest. He was taken to hospital immediately and operated on by the best surgeon (Lt. Col Coates who did such great work in Thailand). He rallied for a while and was given a fighting chance, but the hospital had to be moved, unfortunately, and that probably went against him.
Please accept my poor[1] tribute to a brave soldier and a great man.
I would be grateful if you will let me know there is anything that I can do to help you.
All the officers and men who have come back would join with me in expressing our sincere sympathy, and our grateful thanks to you for your great sacrifice.
Believe me[2].
Yours very sincerely,
Maj. K P H Lawrence[note 1] consensus is this is "poor" but slightly hard to read [note 2] hard to read, think this is "believe me" (seems out of context)
The Seymour Telegraph (the local newspaper) did a story on the handover of this letter, and it is referenced here.
Notes:
- Major Keith (Philip Henry) Lawrence, 2/10 Field Company (VX45686)
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Life Story for David John Barlow (McCullough)
When David John Barlow was born on February 25, 1916, in Hawthorn, Victoria, Australia, his father, Stanley Victor Barlow, was 22 and his mother, Olive Martha Barlow (nee Veale), was 23. His father, Stanley, abandoned his mother (Olive) and David in approx. 1916, and Olive filed for divorce through desertion in 1919. Olive married Charles McCullough in 1920, and young David took his step-father’s last name, McCullough, at some point during his childhood.
David married Vera May Cleary on January 18, 1937, in Seymour, Victoria, Australia. They had four children during their marriage (his first son died at birth).
On 11 June 1940, David enlisted in the Australian Army (Service Number VX30784) with the 2/10 Field Company Royal Australian Engineers. He departed for overseas service on 2 February 1941 as part of the 22nd Brigade from Sydney on board the Queen Mary. He disembarked in Singapore on 18 February 1941. He was promoted to the rank of Lt. Sergeant on 20 March 1941, and subsequently to Sergeant on 1 May 1941. In a letter from his commanding officer received after the war, it was noted that he was recommended for a promotion of Sergeant Major, a position he was acting in at the time of his death. (A subsequent request to the Australian Army for recognition of this promotion was denied.)
While the exact date of his death is unclear, David died in the Fall of Singapore around 11 February 1942 at the age of 25. We learned that he was wounded a few days earlier by a bomb blast where he sustained chest injuries. His body was never found, however he has a memorial marker in Kranji, Singapore.
Ancestry Life Story for my maternal grandfather. Father of Dawn Olive Nunn.
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Being Borning
It all started with that birth thing
Well I know that I wasn’t around when it happened, but spring was in the air, and the bees weren’t the only ones busy pollinating life. As much as we all hate to think about it (and I try not to), we all know it happens – our parents have sex. That is the reality of the situation. To our parents it’s a magical moment about sharing love, and bodily juices. To us (now that we are older), its a thought that helps us manage our bulemia. But … it does happen.
And so it did during the month of September or October 1967. My parents remembered how to have sex. I say remembered as this was to be their third child, and it had been around 8 years since their second child.
Not being one that has experienced the rebirthing sensation, I don’t recall much about my time inside my mother (nothing oedipal about this statement). I don’t even remember June 17, 1968, when I popped into this world (shortly after midnight, and after a longish labor). The date would come to enable this to be called the Book of James, and not the “Book of Eric.” It appears that I was meant to be born on June 16, but for “some” reason (only to be discovered much later in life) I was determined not to be born until the 17th. June 17 happened also to be the anniversary of the death of my father’s best man – Eric Russell (someone). Now my parents aren’t overly superstitious, however, they did take this as an omen, and even though my name had been planned out for some time, I was to avoid being called Eric. Instead, I was named James and given the middle name of David, in honor of my mother’s father, David John McCullough.
I’d like to think the world changed for the better that day, and in many ways it did.