The 1916 game in London was the blueprint for Anzac Day games many decades later. Picture: Australian War Memorial
THE 100th anniversary of a special event – in this case, one that provided a virtual blueprint for Anzac Day football – deserves special recognition.
That’s the attitude of a descendant of a prominent footballer-soldier – and what’s more, he’s acting upon it.
Dan Minogue is the grandson of the late Australian Football Hall of Fame member of the same name, who played a leading role in the ‘pioneer exhibition game’ staged by Australian soldiers in London in October, 1916.
The famous clash between the Third Division and the Combined Training Units at Queen’s Club, West Kensington, is believed to have been the first organised game of Australian Football played overseas.
In any case, it was the first such match involving predominantly elite-level players.
Adding to the London game’s significance, it attracted 3000-8000 spectators (depending on which source you read) and raised almost £1000 for the British and French Red Cross Societies.
Almost secondary, it was also a high-quality contest. The original ‘Danny’ Minogue – a co-selector and vice-captain of the victorious Third Division team – would, two decades later, hail it as “a slashing display” of the game “at its scintillating best”.
His grandson, Young Dan Minogue (as we’ll call him to avoid confusion), is a Melbourne lawyer who supports Hawthorn (one of the record five clubs his grandfather coached).
Young Dan is also the custodian of his grandfather’s treasure trove of memorabilia, including his ‘Third Divvy’ guernsey, which is on display at the Hawks Museum at Waverley and was exhibited at Collingwood (which Danny captained pre-war) before Anzac Day last year.
That day, Young Dan presented the match ball to the umpires before the traditional Collingwood-Essendon clash, and it was then that he experienced something of a light-bulb moment.
Concerned the London game’s historical significance would be overlooked, he decided to do something about it.
AFL Europe has shelved plans for a centenary match, but Young Dan believes the 1916 game deserves a permanent tribute. He is campaigning for a commemorative plaque to be placed at the site of the match.
Young Dan wrote to the AFL, which replied that while it wouldn’t produce a plaque itself, the League gave him permission to use its logo on any such memorial.
So he’s in the process of lobbying the Queen’s Club and the local London council, the Royal Borough of Hammersmith and Fulham.
If given approval, Young Dan would work with both the AFL and the Australian Department of Defence on the wording of the inscription.
Ideally, he said, an unveiling would coincide with the centenary of the event on Friday, October 28. Otherwise, Anzac Day next year would be a fitting alternative.
He suggested the occasion would provide “a wonderful opportunity” to promote our game with an AFL Auskick clinic and perhaps a social kick.
“To me it’s pretty simple: the 100th anniversary of such a significant event in the history of both Australian Football and our military forces needs to be recognised,” Young Dan Minogue told the AFL Record.
He highlights that Australia had suffered catastrophic losses in battle, particularly at Gallipoli and Fromelles, making it critical to boost morale among Diggers training in London before they joined the fighting.
“And what better way to boost morale than by putting on their own game, which is built on mateship, teamwork, cooperation and courage – traits that have come to symbolise the Anzac spirit,” he said.
“It wasn’t just about a game of footy – if it was, they wouldn’t have gone to so much effort. There was a genuine need for it.
“They made a big day of it – they even sent out formal, gilt-edged invitations and printed a match program – and they displayed great national pride and raised money for charity. That’s exactly what they do today (on Anzac Day). And it all started in London in 1916.”
Another issue to resolve is just where to place the plaque, as the exact site of the game remains a mystery.
Nick Richardson, the author of soon-to-be-released book The Game Of Our Lives, revealed the Queen’s Club’s pre-1950s records, including any references to the venue used by the Australian troops, were destroyed in a fire.
However, Richardson agreed it was reasonable to assume the game was played in the vicinity of the Queen’s Club Gardens, given its similarities with newsreel footage of the game.
The parkland – bordered by 1890s terrace housing and divided by tennis courts – is just a few drop-kicks from the Queen’s Club, which hosts the annual warm-up tennis tournament for the prestigious Wimbledon championships. It’s a lovely, leafy setting for a plaque to mark the momentous occasion.
The exhibition game was the brainchild of Brigadier-General Sir Newton Moore – the former Premier of Western Australia – who proposed the concept to legendary general John Monash, then commanding the Third Division.
The big job of organising the event went to Lieutenant Frank Beaurepaire, an Olympic swimmer who later added to his fame as Melbourne mayor and tyre tycoon.
The vision took about three months to become reality.
Dan Minogue’s memories, published in The Sporting Globe in 1937, amount to perhaps the most detailed account of those preparations and the game itself.
He recalled the “dismal” Larkhill training camp on the Salisbury Plain – 1.5km north of Stonehenge – and it being so cold that it seemed they were “near the North Pole”.
“Between parades many of us chased a football every chance we got to keep warm,” Minogue wrote.
Then 25, he and his Third Division mates were “thrilled” about the prospect of a proper football match.
As arguably the biggest football name in his Division, Minogue joined a selection committee that also included Beaurepaire and South Melbourne great Bruce Sloss (who captained the Third Division).
Keen for the game to be a success, the top brass ensured the excited hopefuls practised together. A week later, a trial match was held, revealing such a “wealth of talent” that Minogue felt the final team would “worthily represent any state in a Carnival”.
Teammate Harry Moyes (who played in Melbourne’s 1926 premiership side) went further in 1949, declaring it “the best team ever”.
Along with Minogue, Sloss and Moyes, the Third Division boasted stars such as Essendon centreman Bill Sewart, Richmond ruckman Hughie James, University and Melbourne big man Jack Brake (also Australia’s pole vault champion), Geelong utility Billy Orchard and Melbourne playmaker Charlie Lilley.
The Training Units also selected “a rattling good side” led by flame-haired Norwood champion and charismatic clergyman Charlie ‘Redwing’ Perry and featuring peerless Fitzroy and East Fremantle rover Percy Trotter, South Melbourne centreman George Bower and Essendon backman Clyde Donaldson.
Vice-captain Jack Cooper, the Fitzroy star, was among many Diggers who had been treated in English hospitals, having been cleared to play after being gassed in France.
Also picked was Thomas Paine, a young Victorian who had enlisted in WA and had a tattoo on his right forearm with the fitting words, ‘faith hope charity’.
The anticipation among the troops was such that Minogue recalled they “talked of little else for days” before “the great match”.
On game eve, The Times reported the event would “show how Australians have combined ‘Soccer’ and Rugby”.
That demonstration took place on a chilly Saturday that was remembered as “one of London’s happiest war-time afternoons”.
The happiest spectators were uniformed Diggers, many of whom had pulled various “dodges” to be there.
Also in attendance was the then-Prince of Wales (later King Edward VIII) and his third cousin, the former King of Portugal, Manuel II.
Corporal Claude McMullen explained the game to the prince, and later reported that his regal guest had taken a “keen interest” in proceedings.
McMullen, who also made the two balls used in the match, later told The Sporting Globe: “My part was most important, though my name does not appear on the official programme.”
That 12-page souvenir match program featured darkly humourous works by renowned Australian artists.
A cartoon shows ‘The advantage of the High Mark’, with a Digger leaping from a trench to ‘mark’ an enemy missile. Another, titled ‘Lessons of the Great War’, depicts a full-back on the last line of defence, barricaded behind sandbags and barbed wire, about to machine-gun a would-be goalkicker.
The players wore uniquely-designed, London-made guernseys – the Third Division donning a navy jumper with a white map of Australia (minus Tasmania) on the chest, huge white shorts and navy socks, while the Training Units wore a light red guernsey with a large white kangaroo on the left breast, along with black shorts and red socks.
The game was a low-scoring, seesawing affair that fluctuated with the breeze, with the Training Units leading by 11 points at the last change.
Minogue recalled that in the final term “their military blood up, the 36 men afield played with fanatical fervor (sic)”.
“I know that I never played harder,” Minogue wrote. “Hughie James and I toiled together in the ruck, playing as though for dear life.”
After the war, Minogue sensationally left Collingwood for Richmond, so the London match was the start of a great ruck partnership that helped the Tigers to their first two, flags in 1920-21.
The Third Division came home hard with the wind, adding 4.3 to 0.3 to win by 16 points – 6.16 (52) to 4.12 (36). It had been a contest that showcased all the skills of the game … except for goalkicking.
Despite all the League stars on show, Minogue believed the hero of the match was “a somewhat unknown follower” named Les Lee, who had played two games for Richmond in 1913 and later played for VFA club Williamstown.
“He was only a boy,” Minogue marvelled, “but he was of the Jack Dyer build and spirit … He was a champion in the ruck that day of days.”
Although locals regarded the foreign code as a novelty, the game generally received favourable reviews in the London press for its speed and skill.
Seemingly perplexed by the code’s freedom of movement and the absence of an offside rule, The Yorkshire Post sniffed: “Apparently the rule was that there are no rules.”
The Times observed that locals were introduced to Australian “barracking”, which it defined as “a cheerful running commentary, absolutely without prejudice”.
An added incentive to play in the game – if indeed any was needed – was that the players would be granted leave until the following night. Minogue recalled they “celebrated in true Digger style”.
Then they left for “the firing line” on the bloody Western Front.
The Aussies had played that London game like it was their last. Tragically for some, it was their last game. Six players, including four who had played League football, were subsequently killed in “the sterner game”.
Just two months later, Third Division skipper Sloss was the first to fall, followed by further 1917 victims Jack Cooper (the Training Units vice-captain), ex-University wingman Stan Martin, East Perth player James Foy, James Pugh (a Victorian who had enlisted in Tasmania) and exhibition match star Les Lee.
