Review by: Heather Whitford Roche, Ballarat Writers Inc. Book Review Group
Professor Anne Buist and Dr Graeme Simsion are no strangers to the writing world. Anne Buist, a psychiatrist and chair of Women’s Mental Health at the University of Melbourne, has written five psychological novels as well as co-writing with her husband Graeme the Menzies Mental Health series: The Glass House, The Oasis, and now The General Hospital.
Graeme Simsion authored the international best seller The Rosie Project and its two sequels. The series was produced in forty languages and sold seven million copies worldwide. Currently a film is being developed with Sony Pictures.
Having read the two earlier novels in this series, I enjoyed this third book the most. The story is largely driven from a psychiatry perspective. Hannah, a trainee psychiatrist, is the main character and the story moves seamlessly between her home, family and her hospital patients. Hannah grew up in a country town with parents who were foster carers for fifty-three children. The consequences of this lifestyle are still affecting the family dynamics today.
Hannah is doing her psychiatry traineeship at the same hospital as she did her internship but this time her focus is on her patients’ mental health, not so much medical conditions, although Hannah discovers the two are linked more than she might have thought.
Her personal life changes when she moves in with a fellow trainee, and his involvement with her family raises questions for Hannah about their ongoing relationship.
Some of her patients include Christina, who plans to sue the hospital, and Hannah’s ex-boyfriend. Max, another patient is a larger-than-life character with bi-polar and kidney disease who creates chaos whenever admitted. His journey is real, sad and humorous. And then there is Ishani, a self-inflicted burns patient with a complicated marriage. Hannah digs deeper into Ishani’s circumstances to discover that all is not as it seems. Hospital dynamics and the pecking order in relation to disciplines and status are cleverly played out by Buist and Simsion in this book.
The General Hospital is a page-turner and easy to read. Buist and Simsion have pulled together a novel that is entertaining, has meaning in today’s world and provides insight into the private and psychological lives of people faced with personal and psychiatric concerns.
It also cleverly places the professionals who work within psychiatry under the spotlight. Psychiatrists, psychologists and therapists in general are ordinary people who have their own issues and complications; the book integrates this notion very well.
Reviewed by: Jason Nahrung, Ballarat Writers Inc. book review group
The review copy of Once We Were Wildlife arrived just as I was catching up with Simpson’s The Thinning, (Hachette, 2024; paperback out now) in which the New South Wales-based writer posits a world of crashing human fertility alongside ecological collapse. It sets up the scenario of a remote outpost of astronomers on the run from government enforcers, the pursuit of two teens serving as a veritable tour of the Warrumbungles and neighbouring environs.
Once We Were Wildlife is, as the name suggests, a different beast, just as saturated in wilderness but with a broader focus on the human relationship with it, and especially its creatures. It’s Simpson’s first collection, following six novels starting with 2013’s Mr Wigg, one work of non-fiction (with a second due out this November), and two books for children. While the subject matter varies, a fairly common theme across the catalogue is the environment.
Once We Were Wildlife comprises 11 short stories (four previously published) – the title story likely edging into novella terrain at 80 pages – and one cannily shaped poem, looking like a top as it spins what I take to be the tale of a platypus. The writing is spare, particularly well suited to both arid landscapes and the aloneness of many of the characters.
The stories are, in the main, slices of life – a near-death ocean swim sparking a quiet epiphany about a relationship, a veteran finding solace in a jungle, a wildlife photographer embracing belonging in an island wilderness. For all their quietness (the characters are hikers and ramblers, not sprinters), the stories skip along, some a mere dozen or so pages long and broken up into scenes. Even the novella, which gives the collection its title, doesn’t dwell in the moment, recounting the relationship of a writer and a tour guide from their meeting to peak to parting via a series of stepping stones rather than a trail. (I suspect the comma after Once in the story’s title was dropped from the cover for artistic purposes, but I prefer the clearer context that the comma affords.)
These are exercises in control and restraint, with each finely drawn character charting their (mostly brief) course with minimum meandering. And through them all flows the natural world, Simpson’s love for it evident, her fears for it as equally apparent in the shadows. For example, in ‘Tanglefoot’, about eco-campaigners in Tasmania, she writes:
The trees’ twisted, tumbledown shapes are familiar and yet strange, like they have rearranged themselves through the year. The fagus are retreating upslope. The pines, too. Behind the camera, it’s as if she can slow the turning of the earth. But there is no stopping it. Or their slow deterioration: a branch fallen here, a crown contracted there, another trunk cracking and crumbling. And underfoot, their ever-more-tangled roots.
The yearning for nature manifests in two stories of transformation that, perhaps in a collection of this size is one too many, with a further dip into the fantastical with a ghost story that holds it pathos for all its overtness. And then a step further, with the platypus poem (‘Tarn’) and ‘Colony’, a story from the view of a migratory bird, perforce coming across as a translation because what do birds call seals? And then further still, with the view of the world from a glacier (‘The Melt’), trying to evoke that sense of deep time against which we try to measure our brief but eventful span, and similarly in the closing story, ‘Out of the Forest’, past, present and future seen through the long-lived experience of trees able to uproot in search of the altitude they need to survive in a climate-changed world.
Given that most of the stories end in separation, death or transition, the resilience seen in the closing stories of ice and trees especially provide a sense of solace if not hope, the world continuing on in whatever form, with or without humans. Which is fitting, because if there is a common current in the collection, it is of the comfort to be found in nature and, in turn, the imperative that if we wish to be around to enjoy it, we better shift our thinking. Books like this may be a part of the mechanism for doing just that.
Review: Marian Chivers, Ballarat Writers Inc. book review group
The author
Ali Lowe is the author of six novels, including the breakout The Trivia Night, The Private Island, The Running Club, and The School Run, which was a WHSmith Book of the Month. A journalist by profession, she was Features Editor at OK! in London and has written for bridal magazines, parenting titles, websites and newspapers. She has dual Australian and British citizenship and lives on Sydney’s northern beaches with her husband and three children.
The blurb
The Titan Pacifica is a luxury cruise liner on an eight-day voyage from Sydney to the idyllic, coconut-palm shores of the South Pacific. On the exclusive Deck Nine, Irving Fairchild, CEO of billion-dollar logistics business Fairchild & Sons, celebrates his 70th birthday. His family is invited and he is footing the bill. Irving is about to make the big announcement about his successor and everyone has a vested interest in who will be the chosen one.
But the news is unexpected. Six set sail on the luxurious cruise but not all of the group will make it back to Sydney.
The book
The Second Wife has an interesting structure: it is divided into ten parts (nine days of the cruise with the location and a section titled Afterwards). Within each section there are chapters following three main characters: Gen (the second wife), Celia (the daughter-in-law), and Molly (the concierge with a secret or two). There are also transcripts from a hit podcast The Deadliest Cruise of All Time featuring various members of the crew. In the Afterwards section there are also excerpts from the biography of Storm, a dancer who is roommates with Molly and who also has secrets.
If descriptions of Cartier watches, Hermes scarves, Louboutin shoes and so on is your catnip you’ll enjoy this book. It gives some interesting insights into how a cruise ship functions and the way murder can be handled at sea. Both the morgue and the jail on board get utilised on this particular cruise.
There are enough plot twists and surprises to keep you reading; trying to work out who’ s next and who really did it. Just how many killers are there? Some members of the family are so obnoxious that it’s a shame their wealth couldn’t buy them a better personality, and the reader almost feels like they deserve to be offed.
There was a point where I became confused as to who’s story was being told: Molly’s or Storm’s. I managed to figure out a few of the clues but was still kept guessing. The mysteries drive the narrative as I found few of the characters likeable or able to be taken at face value.
The publisher recommends The Second Wife for fans of Big Little Liesand White Lotus and it definitely fits the brief. There are even some sneaky references to similar books within the novel. If you like twisty and suspenseful with a touch of luxe, this novel is for you.
Review by: Frank Thompson, Ballarat Writers Inc. book review group
Geoff Hutchison is a retired ABC journalist, and broadcaster. At one time he was associated with the 7.30 Report and was a Foreign Correspondent reporter.
This book is about men, well, blokes, mostly older ones. Despite this, it is not exclusively for men. Wives, partners, family, and friends or anyone who knows someone with a grumpy disposition would find this book a guide to greater understanding. It begs the question, is there an opening for a book about grumpiness in women?
Geoff has written this book in a conversational, interviewer, broadcasting style. Initially, I found this a little off-putting. However, full marks for doing something different. I didn’t see any point in being grumpy about it, and eventually I warmed to it. Which I guess is what a lot of the book is about.
The first chapter of the book asks if men are in crisis, which is also the title of the chapter. Geoff starts with a story about a time when he asked his father if he was happy and got the reply, “No, not really”. The implication is that his father’s stoic unhappiness is intrinsically linked to grumpiness.
What follows is a discussion highlighting the move away from seeing men as the solitary breadwinners, defenders, and patriarchs. A move many men find difficult, and a major cause of grumpiness. However, change is inevitable; society and societal values are constantly shifting.
Geoff uses his own life experiences and relationships as starting points for various subtopics. He also draws on contacts from his ABC days to provide subject matter expertise. This is often presented as summarised/edited conversations. Contributors include author of Boys to Men and men’s counsellor Maggie Dent, Nick Bruining on money and finances, and for the delicate topic of sex, he consulted Dr Michael, a seventy-something specialist in male functionality.
The book does not include a list of contributors/interviewees. This is possibly because some wished to remain anonymous. The GPs he talked to about men visiting their doctors chose to use nom de plumes. However, at the end of the book there is a list of resources for anyone needing to talk to someone about their mental health or wellbeing.
One of his sons gets a chapter to himself, giving a perspective from the younger generation.
Male violence, mostly violence towards women, gets suitable coverage. This is a complex topic, more than a book like this can fully explore. He is explicit about there being no excuse for violence against women. However, he does not let the subject overshadow the rest of the book.
Many of the themes and topics are familiar, for example, lack of purpose after retirement, many men’s reluctance to talk to a doctor, and men’s inability to share emotions and suffer in silence – except they aren’t always silent.
I thought key messages in this book included: men need to learn to participate more in all aspects of life and living, participation is a two-way process, men should engage with partners and family more constructively, as well as with mates and the community, and be tolerant of change (they might find they like it).
Geoff is light-hearted in his rendering of the issues affecting men, but always respectful and tactful. Hopefully this will encourage those who need this book the most to read it.
Ballarat Writers is running some workshops to make you into the great writer you (and we) know you can be!
These will be conducted by the lovely Bruna Pomella, who has some forty years’ experience teaching English and English Literature to the great unwashed. Each workshop gives you the skills to benefit from the next workshop, so it’s a good idea to do all three, but that’s your choice.
The workshops are held in the salubrious surrounds of the Ballarat Public Library, 178 Doveton St Nth, Ballarat Central.. (Ballarat has a library? Who knew?)
You can get tickets at the following TryBooking links::
Reviewed by Rhonda Cotsell, Ballarat Writers Inc. Book Review Group
This excellent little book provides basic information about everything screen based – phone and computer – aimed primarily for children in the 8-14 age group. It also serves as a support guide for teachers and for adult family members or carers at home looking for a guide in a format that is easy to navigate or to read with, or give to, children under their care.
I am particularly impressed not only with its scope and layout but also how it navigates a path between content that shares what there is to enjoy and gain from the internet and also what to be wary of. There is also generous space given to the non-internet time, and what each provides to enrich a child’s life and also what it lacks, and how they work together.
I found it easy to read as both an adult interested in the subject and as a parent already aware of the ups and downs of our relationship with our children regarding this subject.
Now, would I buy this for my grandson? Yes, despite the fact I can see his eyes rolling in disbelief and a despairing ‘Naaaaaann!’ at my presumption, given our shared familiarity with the significant deficits in my knowledge of all things IT, followed by the lofty observation that anyway he can find out all that on the internet (I find blackmail can work at this point; teachers, you’re on your own).
And as a nit picky reviewer thinking about how does it fulfil the promise of its title: Is it up-to-date? How thorough is its coverage? How easy is it to read given its reader/s and does the language bridge the gap between adult and child? How does it ‘sound’ read or spoken and does it inform or does it proselytise or attempt to inculcate? Is it grammatically correct, and especially, who wrote it and can they be trusted?
He can. The author’s background is one rich in science and involvement with children generally. Lal’s qualifications are impressive. He is an ANU Visiting Fellow and host of the ABC kids’ podcast Imagine This. He has a PhD in physics and has appeared on Play School and Catalyst. His awards include a 2021 Celestino Eureka Prize for Promoting Understanding of Science and a 2022 Royal Societies of Australia and New Zealand Piasecki Prize for Outstanding Writing on Social Change. He is also Dad to three children.
A minor quibble is the lack of an index, and a Contents list of chapter headings that, while catchy, provided little guidance to the information covered in each section – something an index would have solved. However, the book is only 116 pages and the layout is extremely well designed, making it easy to pick up at a glance what each section contains from paragraph to section level.
The size of the book and layout is for me a significant success re accessibility of information and physical usability. Good for small hands and large, and portable. A lot has been accomplished by skilful use of varying fonts, text boxes, generous spacing for the eye to jump from one piece of information to another. Key words are bolded within concise paragraphs so skimming is effortless. This makes it easy to both locate a particular subject or choose whether to read that section or not. The colour scheme is a pleasant and consistent use of varying shades of blue – no use of the bright and grabby to disconcert. The illustrations are cartoon like. These and short, concise blocks of text break up the larger paragraphs, emphasising important points and allowing the reader to read quickly, picking up important information as an alternative to the slower word-by-word, sentence-by-sentence, but also repeating main points. This is especially good given the different levels of knowledge each reader will have, and level of concentration.
The illustrator Aśka is an award-winning graphic novelist and an ex-quantum physicist passionate about visual literacy and teaching people how to ‘write with pictures’.
Given its aim, it is simultaneously easy to read and engaging. There is an inbuilt and comfortable logical flow from one section to the next. For example, Chapter 7 Being Healthy with Tech covers bullying and the importance of non-screen time, delves into whole-family involvement and, in a section on screen health, being aware of mood changes. Chapter 8 What To Believe uses the term spidey sense, a lovely word which adults might miss but childrenwill enjoy, to refer to that innocuous suspicion all of us feel looking at certain sites. It then talks about recognising legitimate information, which leads naturally into different opinions and algorithms, its incidental AI equivalent, looking at the pluses and minuses, describes user behaviour and tracking, then defines in simple terms the science used before going into fake news and how to identify it, who benefits from it, and the faking of proof. It also provides hints about trusting yourself – your spidey sense. All of which covers a lot of potentially boring ground for children.
Everything about it physically and in design allows for a variety of usage scenarios – classroom, small-group work, at home one-on-one with parent/carer and child, and solo reading and rereading. Also, though definitely not its aim, I – an older and less confident adult – read it from cover to cover, finding it helpful for understanding some terms, colloquialisms and context, and for checking I am on track with my own screen time.
Overall, an excellent work doing what all good books at the most basic level do best, which is to make its reader emerge knowing more than they did before.
Review: Rhonda Cotsell, Ballarat Writers Inc. Book Review Group
The author
Jessica Mansour-Nahra has worked previously as a communications consultant and writer in various locations around the world and holds degrees in History and Law from the University of Queensland. The Farm is her first novel.
The book
Leila and James have suffered through multiple IVF attempts before a final success ends in the tragedy of a heartbeat lost. Leila must then undergo an operation to make conception again possible after which, to recuperate and improve the chances of conceiving again, they move to his parents’ farm, thinking peace from the city and fresh air will help.
Leila initially finds the house beautiful but slightly oppressive. Described as classically beautiful it is also unusually unkempt, some of the interior showing contradictory signs of age and wear. There is a rear screen door, which cannot be locked, leading out to an area littered with rubbish and a small, heavily locked shed, the purpose of which is not disclosed.
To offset the isolation there are other farms within view albeit distant whose owners James takes pains to introduce Leila to so she might feel less alone. There is also a nearby small town for non-urgent supplies that they visit and socialise in together and with locals.
Leila’s body is still recovering from the operation and she is often in pain. Throughout there are frequent references to a cocktail of painkillers that she takes, often washed down with wine. This concerns the sometimes overly solicitous James. She eats what he considers to be too little but also shares pleasant evenings cooking for and with James.
Her unease and physical condition do not prevent her from exploring the farm and surrounding bushland, taking long walks daily on the advice of her doctor. Her moods and some of her behaviour seem erratic and a little difficult to grasp initially, but there are understandable reasons as the story unfolds. Her and James’s relationship was understandably strained, for example, by their mutual grief, her state of health, the fact they are spending more time together than usual, and their differing relationship with the farm itself and his albeit absent parents to whom he is devoted and who moved away in order for James and Leila to have privacy.
There is an overhanging unease about the house, James, and his absent parents, but the effect is diluted by awareness of potential exaggeration by the many drugs – to which James – more comfortable in this environment which is his, not hers – objects vigorously. And it is never quite clear – given the story is told through her eyes – whether the general weirdness is drug induced or the result of James pressuring her when she is actually in pain.
Although their isolation is presented in a way both claustrophobic and overwhelming, I enjoyed the details of bushland and open spaces. Apart from bringing a sense of bushland and country into the reading, the depictions of their surroundings in its narrative role as background captures both its muted and slightly otherworldly eeriness and its beauty.
…a serpentine stream banked by sandy clay, disappearing into thick trees. The water is clear and I see shimmering rocks, mottled plants and sticks beneath the surface. The sound is gentle as the water laps against and plops over the rocks
These passages of description are on the surface of it pleasing, creating in the reader’s mind an environment alive and familiar, not something entirely forbidding despite perhaps the ‘serpentine’ nature of the stream. There are however distinctly unsettling moments in her daily walks. There is, for example, the terribly rank smell from a strange concrete structure – purpose unknown – in the bush, and the brief sighting of what seemed to be a stranger’s face disappearing amongst the trees. During a raging storm a terrified woman screams and claws at a window.
These Gothic elements are set within a cast of ordinary, everyday characters engaged in usual farm work and leisure activities among which the two fill their days. Some small inaccuracies of farm work pulled me out of full immersion from time to time but overall the smells, sounds, sights and activities of a country farm with country neighbours and friends was realistically conveyed.
The locals are drawn with a broad brush, and there is an enjoyable depiction of the characteristics and behaviour of the dog who accompanies and comforts Leila. Leila and James’ relationship, which, despite Leila’s growing paranoia also infecting her trust of James, is also convincing. Their separate suffering and struggles to adapt to what is happening in their lives as both individual and as partner reads as warm and painfully real.
Was Leila bordering on physical and emotional collapse due to her health and the death of her unborn child and the fear or never conceiving another, or, given the constant reference to pills and alcohol, simply the slightly unhinged mind of someone self medicating while struggling to retain emotional equilibrium?
It is through Leila’s eyes that the story unfolds, and the claustrophobic setting and hallucinogenic edge of her response to her situation successfully created a dramatic tension that kept this reader on edge to the end.
Review: Frank Thompson, December 2025; Ballarat Writers Inc. Book Review Group
“Husband, Father, Grandfather, Icon. 1948–2025.” This quote appearing on the back cover says it all, from Ozzy’s perspective. For the rest of the world the focus is on the word “Icon”. Ozzy Osbourne, frontman for Black Sabbath, the band often credited with establishing heavy metal as a music genre.
When I was young, a mate of mine lived in half an old house that backed onto a large church which rang bells on Sunday mornings, loudly, as if to re-sanctify the air after a Saturday night of very loud music from my mate’s custom-built sound system — Black Sabbath’s Paranoid and War Pigs and other tracks high on a play list saturated with heavy undertones of darkness. Were we protesting the established righteousness? I think not.
Last Rites is not Ozzy’s first memoir, but as he says, it would probably be his last, and so it turned out to be, the rocker bowing out at age 76 on 22 July 2025. The book covers his last years, from around 2018, and includes details of his last concert. The writing style is casual and friendly with Ozzy talking directly to the reader, relating the sequence of events mostly to do with his failing health, but there are lots of little side tracks into earlier events, reminisces, and anecdotes. These may have the odd spec of gold for the trivia buffs.
Ozzy is honest and candid in his recollections, though like anybody’s story I would assume there is omitted detail. This is a man who knows in his heart the end is getting closer and it is time to reconcile and be thankful. About halfway into the book Ozzy provides some advice on how to survive the music industry: “The way I look at it, if you’re in the music game for long enough, the best way to survive is, one, keep your sense of humour, and two, never, ever fall into the trap of believing your own bullshit. Because that’s fatal, every time.” Personally, I’d suggest this is good advice whatever game you are in.
An attracter and creator of chaos, Ozzy developed a habit of hamming it up to gain acceptance early on in his life. The hamming escalated over the years; unfortunately, wild behaviour can have bad outcomes. However, I do not recall Ozzy bemoaning the bad things, accepting these as being the result of his own actions, and thankful things did not turn out worse.
While there is a lot of detail about the causes of his failing health and the various treatments, it is done in a light-hearted style. The portrayal of the American health system or lack thereof is interesting. It appeared to me that money does not guarantee the quality of the treatment.
One could be cynical and suggest this memoir is all part of the business of monetising Ozzy Osborne, but surely this is what being an icon is about. Ozzy is more than just a singer in front of a band. And there is a two-way contract between an icon and its fan base. The TV shows, the albums, and the memoirs: these contain the stuff that maintains the momentum of the fan base, giving them something larger than life to adore, talk about, and follow, distracting them from their own lives.
I read this book as a piece of light entertainment, a curiosity, but after reading it I got the impression there is a lot more to Ozzy than local boy makes the big time while partying wildly. When you strip away the bling and the outrageous bits, you are left with a normal well-meaning guy who doesn’t question his luck, tries his best and is happy to ride the wave. Now I understand the relevance of the opening quote.
Reviewed by: Rhonda Cotsell, Ballarat Writers Inc. book review group
Despite what its title suggests, this work is centred on a small town called Steenwerck, located near the site of the Battle of Fromelles. Steenwerck was the base for the 2nd Australian Casualty Clearing Station, a military hospital which played a major role in receiving and treating casualties from Fromelles and transporting them to the nearby railway for evacuation from the front. (Anzac Ridge was an important site in the Third Battle of Ypres, casualties from which would also have passed through the Steenwerck clearing station.) A feature of the area was the duckboards put down to make walkways over the muddy ground, an innovation my grandfather, who served as a soldier and stretcher bearer, would have been familiar with.
Patricia Skehan, author of The Secrets of Anzac Ridge: In Flanders Fields, was a founding executive member of the City of Canada Bay Heritage Society, who has toured Australia speaking and lecturing for organisations such as Probus and U3A, VIEW clubs and historical societies.
The story of The Secrets of Anzac Ridge: In Flanders Fields draws on a compilation of raw material extracted from Trove, the National Library of Australia (NLA) newspaper database, which contains digitised newspapers and newsletters. Other material is sourced from family-held letters, diaries, and the NLA catalogue. Much use is also made of material from the diary of General Sir John Monash, and another held by the family of a young enlistee, James (Jim) Armitage.
The material has been organised into sections grouping specific themes, colourfully headed such as Shattered Humanity, Strong Language, Cobbers, Mademoiselle From Armentieres, and more. Because it’s not organised chronologically, it presents as a series of short and highly colourful, always emotionally charged, snapshots of that very much larger and vastly more complex field. Hearing these voices rising out of this period of history is effective, but highlighting certain aspects while showing them out of that larger context, hence omitting much, and connected only by what the author chooses to say about them, risks skewing the reader’s awareness of the events.
Similarly, reviewers are susceptible to bias when they review a book. It’s hard to avoid sometimes. As this reviewer, I acknowledge my bias from growing up hearing WW1 stories my grandfather, Angus McSwain, told my father. Angus was a private in artillery, fought in the trenches and was also a stretcher bearer, first at Gallipoli and later the Somme.
Medical orderlies at the 2nd Australian Casualty Clearing Station near Steenwerck moving patients over duckboard walkways (to avoid the muddy ground) using a two-tiered stretcher holder on wheels. The stretcher holder could run along railway tracks leading to the train (seen in the background), which pulled up right at the camp. Here the orderlies are changing direction at a turntable. Source: AWM
My father told me about seeing the strange whiteness of his father’s feet, a result of trench foot Angus suffered for the rest of his life, and showed me the word neurasthenia on his discharge papers. He told me Angus’s story about walking on duckboards across mud at the head of a line of men, a bomb falling, and looking behind to discover he was the only one left standing. One day while out rabbiting together, he asked his father innocently as a curious boy whether he had killed any Germans, and his father just wept silently all the way home. The shame he suffered from hurting Angus lasted till he died.
Consequently, there were areas of The Secrets of Anzac Ridge that left me cold. Almost voyeuristic, the book reads as trapped in an unpleasant and unnatural excitement, like a closed bubble in time where emotions are huge and the events filtered by the author’s presence. There is also at times a strong sense of the author wanting to present a cheerful light that felt both invasive and manipulating. There is much about the Australian Digger spirit, their ‘good cheer and revelry’ despite dreadful suffering, and many extracts which seem to have little to do with what the title offered.
One extract the author chose to include really threw me. It is the author’s choice of material to give a picture of British Field Marshal Douglas Haig compared to that of Australian Brigadier General Harold ‘Pompey’ Elliott in relation to Fromelles and the Battle of the Somme. Haig responsible for the needless death of thousands, and Australians specifically, and the other, also aware, who had to send his men into it. Angus among them.
General Haig … what struck me more than anything when he came into the room was his firm, healthy appearance and his keen, but sympathetic, eyes. His skin was clear, and he looked what he was, a clean-living man of action … (p158)
This is followed by more of the same. No mention of the horrendous death toll and inevitability of defeat that his ‘action’ would result in, nor the fact that opinions about Haig are still disputed today.
There is little re Elliott, the strict disciplinarian devoted to his men first and foremost, who, when the order was made, as a professional soldier and leader of the Australian 5th Division, was forced to obey despite his fears.
In Trove, I found mentions of Pompey’s role everywhere, for example, an article in a 2006 issue of Army about an exhibition at the Australian War Memorial cites curator Peter Burness:
“The 5th Division, the most recently arrived and the least prepared for battle … was put into the front line at Fromelles, resulting in 5500 casualties overnight and no ground gained at all,” Mr Burness said.
…
“Brig ‘Pompey’ Elliot [sic], one of the great fighting generals in the Australian Army, saw his brigade destroyed in front of his eyes,” Mr Burness said. “He greeted the survivors coming back off the battlefield with tears running down his face.”
Skehan’s only reference to the Australian leader is roughly three sentences, referring briefly to his popularity with his men, nothing about his role, and a brief comment re his postwar suicide, suggesting it due to an unnamed financial matter involving letting people down.
I located this unnamed financial matter in Trove – bad investments adding to his depression over feeling he had failed to provide for his family properly – along with an inquest report and an item quoting the sister-in-law and attending doctors referring to deep depression caused by wartime suffering, shell shock and the suffering of the men under his command, plus copious records referring to the sort of man he was and his role in Fromelles, and his ongoing work postwar protecting the rights of those men who made their way home.
Central Highlands readers may also find it interesting that Pompey Elliott was from the Victorian Wimmera town of West Charlton, attended Ballarat Grammar and began law studies at university before leaving to fight in the Boer War.
However, though playing a massive role in the Gallipoli landing, in this work he is as good as invisible, while Haig glows, and this is what the reader will be left with.
Easy to read and entertaining as it is, I therefore would strongly recommend readers make sure to follow up with other reading on the same topic.
Review copy provided by the publisher.
If anything in this article has disturbed you, please know that Lifeline is available 24/7 on 13 11 14 (https://www.lifeline.org.au/), as is Open Arms, assisting those in the armed services, veterans, and their families – 1800 011 046 (https://www.openarms.gov.au/)
The Ballarat Writers Inc 2026 AGM will be held on Wednesday 28 January 2026 at 7:00pm in the Champagne Room of the Lakeview Hotel, 22 Wendouree Parade, Lake Wendouree, VIC 3350 in conjunction with our regular social meeting.
To be eligible to vote or hold a position on the committee you must be a paid member of BWI. (All memberships are due on January 1 2026. If you would like to join, or need to renew, you can do so here.)
We are seeking members to fill the following roles:
President
Vice-President
Treasurer
Secretary
Publicity officer
Proxy forms will be emailed to all members in early January with the formal notice of the AGM, and must be completed and with you at the meeting in order for you to cast a proxy vote.
Members who intend to nominate for the committee are strongly encouraged to read the relevant position descriptions so as to be aware of the responsibilities of the position.
Nominations of candidates for election as Officer Bearers of the Committee must be either:
made on the night at the AGM, when nominations are called for; or
delivered to the Secretary of BWI not less than 3 days before the date fixed for the holding of the Annual General Meeting, ie 25th January 2026
nominations can only be made for paid-up, financial members on the date of nomination.
If the number of nominations exceeds the number of vacancies to be filled, a ballot must be held.
The ballot for the election of Officer Bearers of the Committee must be conducted at the Annual General Meeting in such manner as the committee may direct.
