The Amazing Tales of Grandfather Conolly

I only ever met one of my four grandparents….my grandmother on my mum’s side.   I could never work out why she didn’t like us as kids but as I got older mum shared the stories that aren’t dinner table conversation let’s say, but it all made for some great laughs and interesting insights as to why we weren’t favored.

It all started with my Grandfather – Henry Montgomery Foxley-Conolly, yes quite the mouthful really, born and raised in London, England in with his roots squarely set in Ireland (how could it not with a name like Conolly).  He came from wealthy stock and so growing up quite grandly with some prestige and privilege.   University changed all that – rumor has it that it was Cambridge; well what can I say except that he had a deep appreciation for “wine, women & song” rather than his studies and so brought a fair amount of disrepute on the family, and so tarnishing their good name!

His family apparently tried a number of remedies, but finally settled on the least embarrassing and painful for them - they “banished” him to Australia for the term of his natural life.   However there apparently was an “up-side” to all of this in that if he followed the rules and stipulations he would be provided with a handsome monthly allowance…

Grandfather Conolly seated
front center - Mount Morgan,
Queensland - circa 1911

So it was under these circumstances that he set sail for Australia in the late 1890’s.   Let’s face it, by the sounds of it he was a bit of a “jack-the-lad”, and tried his hand a host of successful and not successful ventures finally settling in the town of Mount Morgan in Queensland.

He married into a well-known local family, and given his personal circumstances they were well off and were fortunate enough to have cook, maid, gardener and nanny for the children.   By Australian standards they were on easy street, however this was also the time that dark storm clouds were gathering in far away Europe and as England was pulled into the First World War, so was by definition the Commonwealth of Australia.  

Emotions were running high in Australia as many of the young men clamored to sign up with the first AIF (Australian Imperial Forces) and head overseas to war and high adventure.   It wasn’t long before everyone realized the terrible price being paid in the blood of our nation; especially with the Gallipoli (modern day Turkey) campaign where Australia lost over 8000 men killed and a further 19,000 wounded.   With every passing day the pressure on every able-bodied man irrespective of age was to “sign-up” and do his bit for his country….if he didn’t then the dreaded “white feather” would undoubtedly find its way onto your door step or into your hand.  

Private Henry Montgomery
Foxley-Conolly
49th Battalion, 4th Division
First AIF
Taken in Sydney prior to embarkation 1916

And so on November 11^th (how ironic) 1916 Grandfather signed up – age 35.  He left his wife and four young children to head to the battlefields of France and Flanders with Queensland’s 49^th Battalion, 4^th Division[†].  

He soon found himself in the thick of battle surviving a number of intense engagements.   However his luck ran out in Feb 1917 being wounded in the face with shrapnel on one occasion that required convalescence back in “Blighty”.  Once back in the field he was again a casualty in July 1918 this time suffering a gas attack and being temporarily blinded.   On each occasion he was sent back to England for treatment - to two different hospitals for two different types of injuries where apparently on both occasions he fell in love with a nurse (yes, two nurses for those keeping count at home) and promised that after the war he would come back for them (yes, both of them).

Now was it because he was fatalistic and didn’t believe he would survive the next battle like many of his friends or was he just being himself and indulging in the fruits of life?   I guess we’ll never really know for sure.

But here’s where the kicker comes in…..the war ends and he finds himself both alive and surprisingly well, but rather than head home with his comrades he decides to demobilize in England (remember the place of his birth) and take a slow boat to Canada, a leisurely train trip across the prairies to Vancouver and an even slower boat back home to Australia. It takes him over a year to get home after the end of the war, arriving to late in 1919 and shows up on the doorstep expecting to be taken back with open arms – which surprisingly he was.   Go figure??   Shortly thereafter Aunt Dorothy was born (1920) and then finally Mum (1922) the last of six children.

All well that ends well, except that one fine day in late 1928 there is a knock at the door!   You can see where this is going and it isn’t going to be good….  Yes, one of the nurses has tracked him down and is now standing on the front porch with suitcase in hand after coming out the 8,000 miles from England in search of her “one true-love”.

The shit truly hits the fan, and after a prolonged argument from all and sundry both women promptly leave (Grandmother Conolly included).   In that instant Grandfather became a single father with six children to care for and raise, all would have been fine except that the Great Depression was about to reek havoc on the fragile post WWI world, and clearly all bets were off in terms of an income from England, they got by like everyone else but were no longer "well off".  

Grandfather Conolly at the
beach in Queensland just
prior to his passing - 1958

Mum[‡] was the youngest and became Grandfathers favorite companion around the garden, often trailing behind him wherever he went.  As she grew older he often regaled her with the unbelievable tales of his adventures, both good and bad, ensuring that she knew the stories of his life much like these are for Zach and Sami.  

Sadly he died the year before I was born but I grew up in his shadow, mum always used to say half jokingly that I was “just like your Grandfather”.   I’d like to think that it was because of my quick mind, clever wit, easy charm and winning smile, you be the judge on that one.

Enough said!

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[†] I’m fortunate enough to have a full account of Grandfathers military records provided free of charge by the Australian War Memorial   

[‡] April 19^th marked the 25^th anniversary of mum’s passing and so I want to dedicate this blog to her for helping shape the person I am today J