Nation salutes the boy who took to sea (last Australian WWI Veteran)
The Australian ^ | 26th October 2005 | Stuart Rintoul
WHEN Evan Allan was 14, he ran for the great adventure of his life. A country boy from Bega, on the southern coast of NSW, he pleaded with his father to let him join the navy, and in March 1914 enlisted as a Boy, Second Class.
We know this because Allan became, by his longevity, a part of the Anzac legend - a story in which he has been cast as Australia's last warrior of the "war to end all wars" and the last survivor of the two world wars that dominated the 20th century.
It was a story that ended yesterday in a way he could never have imagined all those years ago, with a state funeral attended by a premier and a governor, a former governor-general, a former premier, navy brass and RSL representatives, all marching slowly behind a gun carriage bearing his 106-year-old body.
There was a three-gun salute, starched white uniforms, the last post and reveille, and a poem by Henry Lawson, When the World Was Wide, that speaks of days when "all was wonderful, new and strange".
There were few tears, for most of those who knew him as a friend were gone. Former premier Jeff Kennett said it best: "Few knew him, but 21 million shall never forget him and his kind."
The funeral, at HMAS Cerberus, south of Melbourne, was attended by Premier Steve Bracks, state Opposition Leader Robert Doyle, Governor John Landy, former governor-general Peter Hollingworth, Victorian RSL president David McLachlan, Veterans Affairs Minister De-Anne Kelly, representing the Prime Minister, and deputy Labor leader Jenny Macklin.
Five members of the Vietnam Veterans Motorcycle Club (Gippsland chapter) were there. "To pay respect," said "Buzz" Kennedy, a pigtail to his shoulder. "It's the end of an era."
More than 1200 navy personnel were involved, including 512 who lined the route from the chapel to the Seamanship Training School, 136 personnel manning the gun carriage, 24 in the firing party and 40 in the Royal Australian Navy Band.
In his eulogy, Commodore Jim Dickson, AM MBE RAN (Rtd), reflected that in 1899, the year in which William Evan Crawford Allan was born, male life expectancy was just 51. But Allan survived two wars, which snatched away the flower of Australian generations, and then lived another lifetime.
Only one Australian remains who enlisted for the Great War - Jack Ross, 106, who answered the call, but whose mother fought to keep him safe at home in the final months of a war that was not at all the war to end all wars.
In the Days When the World Was Wide
by Henry Lawson
The world is narrow and ways are short, and our lives are dull and slow,
For little is new where the crowds resort, and less where the wanderers go;
Greater, or smaller, the same old things we see by the dull road-side �?BR>And tired of all is the spirit that sings of the days when the world was wide.
When the North was hale in the march of Time, and the South and the West were new,
And the gorgeous East was a pantomime, as it seemed in our boyhood's view;
When Spain was first on the waves of change, and proud in the ranks of pride,
And all was wonderful, new and strange in the days when the world was wide.
Then a man could fight if his heart were bold, and win if his faith were true �?BR>Were it love, or honour, or power, or gold, or all that our hearts pursue;
Could live to the world for the family name, or die for the family pride,
Could fly from sorrow, and wrong, and shame in the days when the world was wide.
They sailed away in the ships that sailed ere science controlled the main,
When the strong, brave heart of a man prevailed as 'twill never prevail again;
They knew not whither, nor much they cared �?let Fate or the winds decide �?BR>The worst of the Great Unknown they dared in the days when the world was wide.
They raised new stars on the silent sea that filled their hearts with awe;
They came to many a strange countree and marvellous sights they saw.
The villagers gaped at the tales they told, and old eyes glistened with pride �?BR>When barbarous cities were paved with gold in the days when the world was wide.
'Twas honest metal and honest wood, in the days of the Outward Bound,
When men were gallant and ships were good �?roaming the wide world round.
The gods could envy a leader then when "Follow me, lads!" he cried �?BR>They faced each other and fought like men in the days when the world was wide.
They tried to live as a freeman should �?they were happier men than we,
In the glorious days of wine and blood, when Liberty crossed the sea;
'Twas a comrade true or a foeman then, and a trusty sword well tried �?BR>They faced each other and fought like men in the days when the world was wide.
The good ship bound for the Southern seas when the beacon was Ballarat,
With a "Ship ahoy!" on the freshening breeze, "Where bound?" and "What ship's that?" �?BR>The emigrant train to New Mexico �?the rush to the Lachlan Side �?BR>Ah! faint is the echo of Westward Ho! from the days when the world was wide.
South, East, and West in advance of Time �?and, ay! in advance of Thought
Those brave men rose to a height sublime �?and is it for this they fought?
And is it for this damned life we praise the god-like spirit that died
At Eureka Stockade in the Roaring Days with the days when the world was wide?
We fight like women, and feel as much; the thoughts of our hearts we guard;
Where scarcely the scorn of a god could touch, the sneer of a sneak hits hard;
The treacherous tongue and cowardly pen, the weapons of curs, decide �?BR>They faced each other and fought like men in the days when the world was wide.
Think of it all �?of the life that is! Study your friends and foes!
Study the past! And answer this: "Are these times better than those?"
The life-long quarrel, the paltry spite, the sting of your poisoned pride!
No matter who fell it were better to fight as they did when the world was wide.
Boast as you will of your mateship now �?crippled and mean and sly �?BR>The lines of suspicion on friendship's brow were traced since the days gone by.
There was room in the long, free lines of the van to fight for it side by side �?BR>There was beating-room for the heart of a man in the days when the world was wide.
With its dull, brown days of a-shilling-an-hour the dreary year drags round:
Is this the result of Old England's power? �?the bourne of the Outward Bound?
Is this the sequel of Westward Ho! �?of the days of Whate'er Betide?
The heart of the rebel makes answer "No! We'll fight till the world grows wide!"
The world shall yet be a wider world �?for the tokens are manifest;
East and North shall the wrongs be hurled that followed us South and West.
The march of Freedom is North by the Dawn! Follow, whate'er betide!
Sons of the Exiles, march! March on! March till the world grows wide!
Now when I was a young man I carried me pack
And I lived the free life of the rover
From the Murray's green basin to the dusty outback
Well, I waltzed my Matilda all over
Then in 1915, my country said, "Son,
It's time you stop ramblin', there's work to be done."
So they gave me a tin hat, and they gave me a gun
And they marched me away to the war
And the band played "Waltzing Matilda"
As the ship pulled away from the quay
And amidst all the cheers, the flag waving, and tears
We sailed off for Gallipoli
And how well I remember that terrible day
How our blood stained the sand and the water
And of how in that hell that they call Suvla Bay
We were butchered like lambs at the slaughter
Johnny Turk, he was waitin', he primed himself well
He showered us with bullets, and he rained us with shell -
And in five minutes flat, he'd blown us all to hell
Nearly blew us right back to Australia
But the band played "Waltzing Matilda"
When we stopped to bury our slain
Well, we buried ours, and the Turks buried theirs
Then we started all over again
And those that were left, well, we tried to survive
In that mad world of blood, death and fire
And for ten weary weeks I kept myself alive
Though around me the corpses piled higher
Then a big Turkish shell knocked me arse over head
And when I woke up in me hospital bed
And saw what it had done, well, I wished I was dead -
Never knew there was worse things than dying
For I'll go no more "Waltzing Matilda"
All around the green bush far and free -
To hump tents and pegs, a man needs both legs
No more "Waltzing Matilda" for me
So they gathered the crippled, the wounded, the maimed
And they shipped us back home to Australia
The armless, the legless, the blind, the insane
Those proud wounded heroes of Suvla
And as our ship sailed into Circular Quay
I looked at the place where me legs used to be
And thanked Christ there was nobody waiting for me
To grieve, to mourn and to pity
But the band played "Waltzing Matilda"
As they carried us down the gangway
But nobody cheered, they just stood and stared
Then they turned all their faces away
And so now every April, I sit on my porch
And I watch the parade pass before me
And I see my old comrades, how proudly they march
Reviving old dreams of past glory
And the old men march slowly, all bones stiff and sore
They're tired old heroes from a forgotten war
And the young people ask "What are they marching for?"
And I ask meself the same question
But the band plays "Waltzing Matilda"
And the old men still answer the call
But as year follows year, more old men disappear
Someday, no one will march there at all 
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