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New South Wales 2337, Australia
Thursday, 31 March 1881
Tom Hewitt was a Master at Toowoomba Grammar School when war broke out. He was also involved with the School Cadets. He was the son of HV Hewitt and brother of Hubert Deane.Tom was killed in action at Pozieres 29 July 1916.
These letters were sent by Captain Thomas Cotgrave Hewitt to family members from Gallipoli, Egypt and Belgium/France during 2015-16. Scans of original letters can be viewed in Images at top of page. Family members mentioned in letters: ‘Helen’ Donaldson (née Hewitt) – Tom’s sister on property near Camooweal, Q’ld (1886-1978) ‘Bill D.’ (William) Donaldson – Helen’s husband (1886-1927) ‘Deane’ (Hubert Deane) Hewitt – Tom’s brother also in the army (1887-1980) - see links on site ‘Father’ Henry Vigors Hewitt – Tom’s father in Baulkham Hills near Sydney (1839-1931) ‘Mother’ Mary Hewitt (née Simmons) – Tom’s mother, who kept these letters carefully in their envelopes for the rest of her life (1875-1933) ANZAC, GALLIPOLI, 11/10/’15. Dear Helen,- A very interesting letter from you, dated, I think, about Aug. 2nd., came along a couple of days since. But I often get your letters sent on by other members of the family. They regard you as their pigeon in the letter-writing story, and save themselves by enclosing one of yours. I hope that the high price of beef has now rendered you a millionaire. I’ll try and describe my present days round, take yesterday as a sample. Rise – from the very hard uneven floor of my dug-out – 6 or a little before. Go round and look at my men fall in to draw water and tell them what jobs they’ll do. By the way 6 a.m. is 06.00 as we use the French system of clocking – 24 hours right off from midnight and always show four figures, whether they are wanted or not. Yesterday I had to tell the men each to draw half a gallon only, owing to the storm two nights before. They usually get one gallon – It’s just enough to do nicely if you don’t waste it. Half past six breakfast of crushed biscuit porridge and fried bacon and bread – We get bread nearly every day now, very seldom have to depend on biscuit. Half-past seven, 07.30, men fall in and go, some to the jobs and most to the beach, on the beach I take charge of about 300 men, and draft them off in bunches to report to various engineer officers for any kind of job from laying tram lines and pile driving to - well, anything else. That is done by eight o’clock, and then behold me a free-lance for the day or nearly so. Yesterday a Tasmanian Capt. Tyrrell – relation of the lad who slew Rufus I believe - and then I went half a mile along the beach to ANZAC. There we found a crowd of Tommies (about 40) trying to fix a pile up against a boat to lever it off where she had been blown by the Storm. They couldn’t do it so Tyrell and two more of us got to work and did it for them. Two tugboats (paddle wheelers) tied themselves on and broke the hawsers and the boat is still there. She is one of our water boats. We found a couple of our parties and saw them work – then we climbed a hill 300 ft. straight up, and found an artillery officer who is a friend of Tyrrell’s. With him we went down the hill again and inspected his artillery horses - nicely hidden in the creek, they looked a bit skinny I thought. Next we found, nearby, a party of ours pulling a huge big iron tank up the hill with ropes and iron pipes to roll it on. It weighed 1½ tons, and the hill was steep, but our men delivered the goods - they have that rep. We climbed up the hill again and had dinner with the Battery Officers, cold boiled shoulder of bacon, bread, tinned fruit and rice and bread and jam. After dinner we visited the Batteries. They are the most shelled on the Peninsula of our guns, so they have what they call funk pits where they can put the guns and go back to their dug-outs to sleep while the enemy wastes high explosives. They’re only little eighteen pounders anyhow. Capt. Robert Thompson, the Artillery Bird, is an Ex-Indian artillery-man from Tas. and he won’t talk anything but farming – he don’t like to talk war all the time. He showed us his guns and while we were there ‘Action No.1 Guns, Target J.” came from the control station through the speaking tube. The control station is a dug-out some distance off, with telephone to the observation station &amp;amp; speaking tubes to each gun. The reason for “Action” was that when the Turks shell us in one place we always shell them in another – it’s what we call retaliation. Capt. R.T.Tyrrell and I then went to the observation station about a mile off – it’s right near our front line of trenches – Turks and Ours. He, R.T. showed us all the Targets, each battery has registered targets &amp;amp; each target has a distinguishing letter. While we were there we were giving them a taste of shrapnel - the sound of the shell going through the air is the first thing you know, and then you see a little cloud of white smoke where the shell explodes in the air. Shrapnel explodes from a time fuse, and you set it to burst just over where you want to hit. It is a strong steel case with an exploding charge in the bottom, and stuffed full of bullets, and when it bursts the bullets shoot out in all directions. The case doesn’t burst – it acts like the barrel of a shotgun - but if it falls on you it usually hurts. Well my dear, to go on with the days round, after we had a good look round the battery we returned to the beach, and saw all our working parties and arranged for them to knock off work a little early for some reason or other. A swim in the Briny off our pier, was the next act, as some shrapnel was coming along we dressed more or less under cover behind a truck on the tramway we’ve laid there. Up the high hill for tea, I forget the menu but probably stewed steak and onions, boiled rice &amp;amp; jam. About 7 o’clock the orders arrive for next day’s work, and I sort them out for various officers, and the hard toil of “War” is over for 24 hours – so that you may see how hard my work is – nothing to do but enjoy myself in the fresh air and all day to do it in. Of course at times we do a little more, but most days that’s a fair sample. TO-DAY, for example, I am on a Court-martial but that’s unusual. I began this a day or two ago but left it - one gets lazy about writing letters. The uncertainty of this life is just about enough to make it interesting - since we have been here there’s been nothing done but sit down in trenches and wait till men get sick or wounded - but of course we might get called out at any minute for scrapping. The bombs are the worst part of trench fighting – they are horrid things – back here on the beach we get spent bullets, high explosives, and shrapnel. There are several kinds of Indians, who all think a lot of the Australians, and are a jolly useful lot of men, a good many Tommies of various kinds. Egyptians &amp;amp; Maltese labourers, and sundry men of the navy. The naval boats lie off, and at intervals amuse themselves knocking the trenches to bits for the Turks. Their shooting is wonderful. I must get off to work - Church. If Bill D. does come, mind he battles for a commission, the only thing he wants to know is how to handle men, and he understands that. But he is much more usefully employed growing beef. Yours, TOM. Just found a chap called Huxton, used to be up your way, droving or something. He is a blacksmith also. 13/10/’15 ANZAC 18.10.15 Dear Father, Your letter - the date about middle of August arrived perhaps a week ago. We have been here rather more than five weeks now, and have done nothing war-like. I have charge of about 300 men and they are detailed each day to about 299 jobs. I just sent a memo to the Colonel to tell him what work we were doing, and there were about 25 sorts of work – from wharflumping to carrying messages. For the first four weeks I was camped on the spur of a ridge overlooking the sea – I have now moved a mile nearer to Gaba Tepu and in full view of the ruined forts there, whenever Jacko, as the Turk is called, observes for his guns at the Olive Grove. They are a little over a mile south of my home. The place I now live in is no longer a dug out. It is cut in to the hill side and the walls are built up of sandbags. I have a fine canvas roof that I “found” as the place is about 14 ft square, you see I live in luxury. I also have risen to the dignity of an officer with a good serviceable home made desk. The food supplied is excellent – and we are even able to augment the splendid issue from a canteen at Imbros. My office and dwelling place are a few yards only from the sea – naturally I bathe nearly every day. You would be much interested in the variety of races here – Indians for transport and mountain labourers largely – or course there are several types of them; Ghurkas, who look almost celestial - very hardy and fine athletic looking men; Sikhs and others: Maltese and Egyptian labourers, and every variety of English, Irish and Scotch: Maoris, Australians, Ceylon Planters and all sorts. I have not tried to learn any of the foreign tongues, as I don’t have to work with them. The transport work is almost entirely per mule. We have also donkeys and a few large motor lorries. The hardy and hardworking mule is the most useful beast of the lot - you can’t hurt him and he always looks to be in good condition. The roads here are mainly saps - cut about 6 feet deep &amp;amp; crooked to avoid be enfiladed. They wind in and out, along creeks mainly of course, but not invariably. I don’t know what will happen if we get heavy rain – but some of our saps will certainly have to be avoided. I don’t think that the rain here is very heavy – I think the climate is almost English. The trenches are mostly 6 ft deep and very narrow - unless they are a long way apart one never looks over the top except with a periscope - which one wants a fair amount of practise with, to use. It is very simple - just two glasses set cross wise like this: The top glass sticks over the trench and reflects the other side’s trenches on to the bottom glass and that reflects it to the eye. Dozens of top glasses get broken of course. A similar device is fixed to a rifle butt and you can fire a rifle over the top in the same way without exposing yourself. You also have iron loopholes set in the sandbags - these have a door and are shut when not in use. I have seen holes punched in the iron plates, by rifle bullets. The Turk bullet is sharp pointed and smaller than ours - it is often turned round as it gives more of a punch when reversed. Very many of their rifles must be worn out, as the rifling hardly marks a lot of their bullets. A new rifle leaves deep grooves on a bullet, but we pick up hundreds of their bullets hardly marked. Since we have been here we have lost a lot of men from sickness - they go away sick and very few come back promptly. I am afraid some of them don’t want to. A few of our men have been wounded, but our battalion has been in reserve and so we have not suffered much. Long before you get this I expect we shall have moved into the trenches. The main things that wound men are bombs and shrapnel - a few get hurt from high explosion shells and bullets. The shrapnel is just as bad on the beach as anywhere, tho the much dreaded “Beachy Bill” gun has been quiet for a month. I hope he remains quiet. It is already getting quite cold - I expect we shall find the winter pretty tough, but probably we shall be as tough as the rest. I am glad you had a mild winter - look after yourself. Best love to you - mother - and all. If I don’t get a chance again – here’s to wish you a happy Xmas, Your affectionate son, Tom. Russell Top 23.11.15 Dear Mother, Your letters - and enclosure arrive with much regularity and great acceptability. But I wonder if I shall ever teach you that one should only write in one direction on the same sheet of paper. Mary also has the same pernicious habit of writing to leave a margin - then along the margin at 90 and then along the top at 45! I suppose one should not attempt to dictate one’s grandmother - but I guess if I ever get my grandchildren writing so, there’ll be dark deeds did! I am in a good state of health - temperature 98.4, appetite good, and appreciating to the full the present cold snap. It is just as cold now as at Glen Innes in mid winter - so you may guess that the warm goods we get so freely from our friends are in much demand. I have a very good scarf, and a balaclava and a pair of mittens from Dollie - which is a good start - and sox from - legion friends and all good - and a big tin of lollies just arrived has proved OK. – another promised from the Renwick girls whom Ethel knows. A fine pair of sox and a cake of Pears just arrived from Mrs. Martin - and every mail brings stax of letters and parcels. The mails are now working wonderfully well. It is hard to answer all the letters I get - but the last few days I have sent off a lot as I am off duty for a few days after a pretty solid time in the trenches. We had quite a few interesting goes with Johnny Turk mostly underground. A couple of old T’ba [Toowoomba] boys got much praise in the go - and the Colonel actually seemed pleased with us all. Finally we pushed Johnny right back into his own trench along his own drive and blew the show up. Gun-cotton is used on a larger scale. Johnny’s last explosion had a breeze that blew all the gas our way and did us not much good - but I wasn’t affected: probably because I knew it wasn’t really “gas” which the others were scared of. Knowledge is power – ahem. Hutton Harvey has proved himself worth his weight in gold - in fact I have more than once considered making him a Lance Corporal - which would lose him to me personally to a great extent. He is very annoyed today because while he was observing for a chap today with a telescope, the chap missed a good shot that he pointed out. We mostly shoot in pairs - one observing &amp;amp; the other shooting. I picked up an exploded shell today, full of mud, &amp;amp; the nose cap, &amp;amp; I put the two together &amp;amp; gave it to an officer. A little later he came after me in a great state: a bombardier (artillery man) had told him it was loaded and would go off! But he left me satisfied. There are some pigeons near here on a high cliff &amp;amp; I intend to have pigeon pie soon. They are homers - &amp;amp; are supposed to belong to a Turkish sniper who used to live on the cliff. The poor chap is now no more - a machine gun was put to him. But there are lots of pigeons. As it is cold now we have no flies - but the fleas seem content. I have a tin of Keatings. It is curious, but the chaps who turn up trumps in the tight corners are not always the ones that you expect. Several of my “old drunks” are among the best men we have. I had about five that I kept in the guard tent for the last week in Abbassia, for fear they would - with the best intentions in the world - get drunk in the last day &amp;amp; stay behind. Over here they are fine chaps. One of them is a Boer - another fought against him - but, they are all handy men in a risky place. One lad who built a barricade in a very touchy place is a fellow that was always blundering - but when I told him what was wanted in a dark explosion hole underground, with a dead man at his elbow - he just went straight ahead and made a splendid job of it. And that with a Turkish bullet hitting a few feet off every minute or so. We have the finest lot of chaps that a man could wish for. Things are much more interesting now we are in the firing line. Best love to you all. I hope all goes well at home, Tom. [Fragments of a letter – 1st page cut off at start of sentence – not completed or censored?] … This paper is from Janet C. Yesterday we had an inspection by General Sir A Murray, late Chief of Staff to General French. The men certainly looked a splendid lot: all Australians. I was in charge of the company as usual &amp;amp; I have a horse for myself at present which is a great scheme. … but other … … I wasn’t so fortunate and had to take the Regiment: the Colonel is a Wesleyan &amp;amp; the 2nd in command an R.C. But everything went alright, thanks. Our Brigadier is now General Paton for good services in the evacuation &amp;amp; discusses it too. I have been recommended for a step, but don’t expect it to eventuate – at any rate not for some time. Too many officers here, who didn’t like the Peninsula climate! I had a pleasant ride today along the Ismailia Canal - it’s a fresh water canal to Ismalia on the Suez Canal. Fingers getting cold – I’ll finish this tomorrow. Tel el Kibi 2.2.16 Dear Mother, I got a letter from Ethel &amp;amp; Leila written on Xmas Day - all was well. I have seen Deane twice. He looks very well and has been recommended for Corporal twice I believe. His officer is an old friend of mine from Toowoomba - Mr. Atkinson. I have been into Cairo, for a few hours each time only, twice. We have been here nearly a month - now we are off to the Canal tomorrow, but only for more training I think. Anyhow, our Brigade Major told me today that he didn’t think there was hope of a scrap there. It is not much good, waiting for fight - we want to finish the war sometime. There seems nothing much to write about when one is in this sort of camp - they are dull after the pleasing whiz-bang of the 75cm or the swish boom of howitzers. I am in splendid health - my only anxiety is to know how my promotion is faring - I should like to get news of it. Very much love to you all Tom. P.S. I enclose 5 pounds for glasses etc. 21.2.16 Dear Mother, It is a most terrible job, this writing of letters when there is nothing to tell. Everything goes along with a certain amount perhaps of monotony - the chances of writing are not always available - and there you are - a week gone &amp;amp; no letter sent. However! I don’t often apologise but I’ve started three letters to you &amp;amp; been called off &amp;amp; not sent them. The last letter I got from you is dated Dec 12th 1916. It seems wrong, somehow, but one does lose count of days at this job. I am soon to be transferred to a new Division - &amp;amp; I expect the promotion will hang fire till the transfer comes off. I send a photo - not a beauty - to show that the Peninsula did me no damage - while Deane also looks pretty fit - the picture was taken under the most unholy light that was ever invented - a long glass tube. Well dear – I am quite well &amp;amp; must go to a lecture, Love to you all Tom. 28.2.16 [letter card] Dear Mother, I got a wee note from you – omitted - by accident from Leila’s letter. Thanks. I hope you get the little scarab brooch that I posted to you today - the scarab, a sacred beetle I understand, was made 4000 years BA (before Adam). We are going to front line here in a couple of days, but within a month we are going to where I hoped to go at the start: we are considerably bucked up about it. As I told you before I expect to go to a new battalion very soon, but so far have had no orders. Tis somewhat dull here, tho not so bad in some ways, we miss the merry scream of shrapnel &amp;amp; the cheerful “whiz bang” of the 75, while the machine gun no longer buzzes out a friendly stream of bullets to chop your sand bags to ribbons &amp;amp; give you healthy occupation by replacing bags. Yesterday I had a day off the chain in the local town - after church parade and a talk from our gallant guard, (about the move), I went in with one of the Majors &amp;amp; had lunch &amp;amp; dinner at the French Club. Everything OK, Yours, Tom. 21.3.16 HMT S.S.NORTHLAND 259 Dear Father &amp;amp; Mother &amp;amp; Others, After a most excellent six days we are in sight of the white cliffs of – the South of France. Yours truly is very well &amp;amp; fat despite the numerous inoculations that form part of the “duties” of a soldier. I’ve just had a couple more. The men naturally are in great spirits &amp;amp; the pink of condition. We have had a very easy time for the last few months &amp;amp; are told that we are to have more training over here, which is a nuisance! We want to make a move &amp;amp; get home. We expect to live in billets over here, which will be a new experience. I don’t expect to have any bothers with our men - they are a good lot of fellows. We travelled in open trucks, as usual, from Ismalia to Alexandria - but really if it had been a 1st class trip it wouldn’t have been any better. We all slept well &amp;amp; the journey was only at night. I am awfully pleased to get our boys away from Egypt - it was quite the wrong place to put them &amp;amp; I personally never liked the place. Ismalia was the best place of the lot as far as I saw them. I suppose you heard I was transferred to B coy. - I did expect to go to a new Division, but our Brigade has been taken intact to be the first for France, &amp;amp; so we miss our turn, which is rather an expensive compliment for a lot of us. But it will be alright in the long run. The name of the company doesn’t make any difference in my address as the Battalion alone is quite enough. This boat was a German, but she will do me for a sea voyage - We have a bathroom for our cabin. The 27th Bn are on board with us – it’s the first trip we’ve had with them. The 28th came with us from Australia &amp;amp; 25th to &amp;amp; from Lemnos to Alexandria, so now we know the lot. Best love Tom. Pilot just coming aboard. Stinking Farm. Belgium 24.6.16 Dear Mother, Here we are again. OK &amp;amp; full of oates. Thank goodness it’s Saturday night. The Hun likes Friday for a hate so last Friday week he gave us a beautiful gas attack when yours truly &amp;amp; his trusty gas helmet were in the firing line, where the gas &amp;amp; bullets &amp;amp; shells &amp;amp; bombs were thickest and the horrors of gas are a thing of the past - thank goodness. Not that it ever did have too many horrors for your scientific son after he had seen the latest fashion in gas helmets. I am not sure if I told you before about Mr Hun’s effort to gas us. I was just down in the line on a friendly visit - to pass the time away &amp;amp; have a look round before we took over from the Tommies. After doing the rounds &amp;amp; seeing all was O.K. at 12.15 I decided to vamoose to my home a couple of miles off. So with the 2nd in Command of the Regiment, off we went. Suddenly a man rushed up over our parapet. “A raid” I thought feeling for my revolver that wasn’t there. “Gas” quietly said the chap who had been in front as a listening post. He had heard the cylinders hissing, for the gas comes off like steam out of a boiler. Off came our steel helmets &amp;amp; I saw a cloud of white coming up. “Gas alright” says I &amp;amp; on goes my gas helmet. It’s a cloth bag with two goggles &amp;amp; a spout to breathe out by. Of course there had been a lot of shelling but now she livened up considerably &amp;amp; the range shortened on to us. All their machine guns also were going so as to drown the noise of the gas. Well we went along from bay to bay &amp;amp; gradually the fog lifted and at half past one I tried a cautious sniff &amp;amp; then off came our helmets. “Look out for a second cloud boys” we passed along, but none came. The shelling had been very severe &amp;amp; ours had been tip top on to them. Of course when they sent the gas along we thought that they would attack, and I picked up a thick waddy &amp;amp; amp; got a few Mill’s bombs (hand grenades). I don’t know if they were stopped by our artillery or what, but we were all much hurt at their reluctance to come along. The Tommies behaved splendidly - I had to congratulate their colonel in the morning. After it was over you should have heard them whistling &amp;amp; singing quietly to themselves. They were good. Yesterday was Friday so the Hun tried to frighten us with “minnies”. They can’t throw them very straight, thank goodness. They make a nice little bang and dig a nice little hole - only about 8 feet deep &amp;amp; 15 across. Luckily they are very local in their effect. We got a “dud” - one that didn’t go off. It was just a big paint drum or oil drum, filled with explosive. Arthur is OK – he was in the gas attack too but a bit farther back. We hope soon to hear that Mr Hunn is tired of war - very tired. We are going strong. Cheeroh Mother dear. Give my love to them all at home. I hope Father &amp;amp; you are well &amp;amp; happy. We are. Your loving son, Tom. Belgium 7.7.16 Thanks for letters. Mother dear, Just a brief note ere I turn in for a 3 hours sleep. Ratt-a-tat-tat go the machine guns – Bim boom bom bam bim go the guns away down on the right where they’re strafing. Next door our cheerful signallers are singing quietly. I have a pipe from their dug out to mine. And they’ve some dugout! Dug in - steel rails - concrete - sandbags. Mustn’t lose your post commanders you know. “26 minutes to eleven” calls the signaller “Divisional time Sir”. “Message from the Sgt. Major Sir” says my orderly corporal. It’s a list of work done on the various sectors. We are busy improving as usual - parapets to be made thick - Dugouts to be put in stronger - trenches improved and that ilk. All the machine guns are at it tonight. Of course they do no harm - only make the men keep a bit lower than usual. And did you see that German flare just land outside my dug out? It makes a bright white light on everything. You fire them out of a big pistol into the air. They’re really not much good to see things by, but when they go up everyone keeps quite still. Today the poor old Hun had an accident. He was firing his biggest bomb at us - a “minnie warfer” &amp;amp; it exploded before it left the gun. That’s the best luck we’ve had today, because we don’t like Minnie. I am O.K. Best love to you all, Tom. France 16.7.16 Mother dear, Two letters from you - one at Glen I. [Innes] &amp;amp; one at Daruka, reminding me of the old spot. Both very doleful because I am killed or something. What matters it if one is killed provided we win! Don’t be silly or I’ll not write a line to you at all. As a matter of fact I have been enjoying exuberant health &amp;amp; been enjoying the time of my life. I don’t know if I told you I saw Sonning, Reading &amp;amp; Windsor &amp;amp; found them very pretty - almost as good as France. We have been in three different lots of trenches &amp;amp; left them all much improved &amp;amp; the Huns quite pleased to have met us. Some of them even came to live at our place! Just now we are near a big river and having a good time. Can’t even hear a gun go off. Got a letter from Deane who to his great delight is now in France too. Talks French like a native he says (native of Australia I expect). Tis a great life, the soldiers. Yesterday I had a fine ride an my noble steed &amp;amp; visited a ruined chateau &amp;amp; stayed out for tea with “the Heavies”. They put on no end of dog, the heavies – heavy trench mortar batteries. I got a very excellent pair of socks from you (28th pair) and as luck would have it I was very glad to get them as we have left most of our things elsewhere. Also 2 pairs that I gave away from Mrs. Lee of T’field [Tenterfield]. I’ve 128634 pairs of socks now and have rented a deserted factory to store them in. But I’m wearing your last pair just now &amp;amp; very good them is. Church parade today – second time in France. Not nearly as nice as the church parade on the flag ship two days before the Jutland fight. The British have been doing some real good work lately &amp;amp; everyone is feeling very pleased. The Huns are almost out in the open at last &amp;amp; even the cavalry get a chance. You should see the poppies, cornflowers &amp;amp; other flowers in the fields round here - regular splash of colour everywhere. I struck an old dame at work in the fields – 74 years old - yesterday &amp;amp; gave her a bob for beer. She was pleased! Arthur is OK. Best love to you all, Tom. Thanks for sox.
In the letter dated 23 November 1915, the transcription of the name Hutton Harvey is incorrect. It should be Arthur Harvey. Arthur Havey's full name upon enlistment was Edward Arthur Harvey. He was the brother of Thomas' finance, Dorothy Harvey.
Standard issue Field Service Postcard - dated 13.3.16 by Tom and postmarked 25th March 1916. Readdressed to Tom's Father staying with another of his son's in Glen Innes, NSW.
'I am quite well', selected from limited options, is the sole message Tom sent on this card. His signature and the date, 3.3.16, were the only additional writing permitted.
'I am quite well', selected from limited options, is the sole message Tom sent on this card. His signature and the date, 3.3.16, were the only additional writing permitted.
Roll of Honour Thomas Cotgrave Hewitt Rank Captain Unit 26th Australian Infantry Battalion Service Australian Imperial Force Conflict/Operation First World War, 1914-1918 Conflict Eligibility Date First World War, 1914-1921 Date of Death 29 July 1916 Place of Death France Cause of Death Killed in action Age at Death 35 Place of Association Toowoomba, Queensland, Australia Cemetery or Memorial Details Villers-Bretonneux Memorial, Villers-Bretonneux, Picardie, France Source AWM145 Roll of Honour cards, 1914-1918 War, Army
Accession Number P06234.003 Description Memorial plaque at Toowoomba Grammar School for Captain (Capt) Thomas Cotgrave Hewitt, 26th Battalion. The memorial was erected in the school's physics laboratory by students of Hewitt, a science master at the school before the war. Capt Hewitt was killed in action at Pozieres Ridge on the night of 28 July 1916. His gallantry in the battle was recommended for Mention in Despatches. Note the incorrect date of the year of his death on the plaque. The photograph was owned by Major Cyril Albert Clowes DSO MC, a student at Toowoomba Grammar School before the war.
Commonwealth of Australia Gazette (National : 1901 - 1973) Sat 8 May 1915 [Issue No.36] Page 827-828 Department of Defence, Ex. Min. No. 297. Melbourne, 3rd May, 1915. AUSTRALIAN IMPERIAL FORCE. Appointments, Promotions, Etc. HIS Excellency the Governor-General, acting with the advice of the Federal Executive Council, has been pleased to approve of the following appointments, promotions, &c., being made in the Australian Imperial Force, to date from 23rd April, 1915, except where otherwise stated :— To be Lieutenants — Captain T. C. Hewitt, Senior Cadets. Commonwealth of Australia Gazette (National : 1901 - 1973) Sat 22 May 1915 [Issue No.41] Page 953 Department of Defence, Ex. Min. Xo. 356. Melbourne, 19th May, 1915. AUSTRALIAN IMPERIAL FORCE. Appointments and Promotions. HIS Excellency the Governor-General, acting with the advice of the Federal Executive Council, has been pleased to approve of the following appointments and promotions being made in the Australian Imperial Force, to date from 15th May, 1915, except where otherwise stated : — To be Captains— Lieutenant T. C. Hewitt. Dated 16th May, 1915.