War artist Horace Millichamp Moore-Jones’ 1918 painting is inscribed in print by the artist: “To the memory of our hero comrade Simpson killed May 1915”. However, the artwork depicts a New Zealand stretcher-bearer Private Richard Alexander Henderson. Photo: Supplied.
John Simpson Kirkpatrick was born on 6 July 1892 at Tyne Dock, South Shields in County Durham to Scottish parents. At age 17 he joined the British merchant navy and then washed up in Australia.
In May 1910, Simpson deserted his ship at Newcastle and travelled widely, taking on various jobs, such as cane-cutting in Queensland and coal mining in the Illawarra.
As always, in local mining communities during this period there were individuals just passing through, such as a Pommy immigrant named Simpson who did a few shifts at Coledale pit and moved to a few other South Coast mines before recklessly enlisting in the AIF from Western Australia.
He later gained some jingoistic fame as “the bloke with the donkey” – even though he probably didn’t actually save a single life before he himself was shot. It is even suspected that Simpson may only have enlisted in the vain hope of getting a free trip back to England if the war did not drag on for too long.
Nonetheless, it comes as a great surprise that Simpson’s Illawarra letters to his mum sent from Coledale provide one of the best accounts of just how bad living conditions were and why it was really not such a big deal for miners to lose a few day’s pay.
Put simply – the miners were accustomed to poor working and living conditions. And the unusual combination of bitterness and sang froid in Simpson’s letters throws quite a bit of light on what things were like for the drifters who passed through northern Illawarra colliery townships in the years leading up to WWI.
In one of John Simpson Kirkpatrick’s letters displayed at an exhibition curated by Robyn van Dyke at the Australian War Memorial in 2014, Simpson (signing himself “Jack Kirkpatrick”) told his mother that “when you answer this letter address it to me c/o post office Coledale New South Wales because it is only a little township and there is no postman”.
Then, on the first day of October, Simpson again wrote (idiosyncratic spelling and no punctuation) to his mother explaining his unsatisfactory experiences at Coledale.
“You remember that last letter I wrote you telling you that I was going to start at Coledale well I started and it only lasted four shifts and than a gang of us was payed off for slackness
“I was on stonework and damned heavy work it was and from then until three weeks ago I was knocking around the best way I could until I got a start at south Bouili [Bulli]
“I have been there for three weeks on stonework I have 8 bob a shift for 9 hours and all nightshift it is rotten I can tell you
“Now Mother you will be saying he is doing well but what a mistake people at home make thinking they make good money out here, true but what is the good of it if you have it all to pay away
“Now look at me for instance I work for about £2 2s a week and the[n] it is not constant it is very seldom the pit works the full ten shifts a fortnight if so you get about £ 4.4.0 of that
“I have got a pound a week to pay for lodgings you cant get them a penny cheaper and no washing done so that is 2 quid and by the time I send you something each pay you will see I have not much left I am about sick of it although it will not be too bad if anyway constant for I am always looking round for something better.”
There is no evidence at all that Simpson was some sort of political animal but this very matter-of-fact statement of affairs provides us with at least glimmer of understanding why single itinerant men such as the man who went onto become considered the symbol of compassion at Gallipoli, had very little to lose.
Sadly, even the image seen at the top of this article is not what it appears to be. Although widely believed to depict the heroism of John Simpson Kirkpatrick, the original photograph this artwork is based on actually depicts New Zealand stretcher-bearer Private Richard Alexander Henderson.
The artwork is by New Zealand artist Horace Moore-Jones and was painted shortly after the war in 1918 and used as a propagandistic symbol of courage and compassion during the otherwise pointless Gallipoli campaign.
