A Hero Died Today

This dedication is given to one such Australian Navy Ship, the HMAS ARMIDALE, which fought a deadly battle off the coast of East Timor in 1942, when it came under heavy attack by Japanese aircraft, who sank this proud ship, with the loss of 100 seamen.

The HMAS Armidale (named after a town in the New England District of NSW) was a Bathurst Class corvette with a crew of 149. Her initial service was as an escort vessel protecting Australian coastal and mainland waters for the New Guinea convoys. She came under attack by Japanese aircraft and was sunk by enemy action during operations off Betano, south coast of Timor. Of the 49 survivors, only five are still alive today.

It was during that attack that ordinary seaman Teddy Sheenan distinguished himself as a hero and one who fought his personal battle against all odds. By his actions, he was most likely instrumental in saving the remainder of the helpless ships' crew from being strafed by the Japanese pilot whilst they floundered in the waters trying to escape the dying ship.

The ship badly hit and on the verge of sinking, the Captain gave the order to "abandon ship". Whilst attempting to do so, Teddy was badly wounded. Rather than face the possibility of perishing in the sea and the real possibility of attracting sharks due to the blood he was losing, he knew that it would create a feeding frenzy, resulting in himself and his surviving shipmates becoming a smorgasbord dinner, he chose to remain on board the sinking ship.
Clambering back on board he strapped himself behind a 20mm deck mounted machine gun and began his fight against a diving Japanese plane, who was intent on delivering the coup-de-grace to his beloved but stricken ship. He zeroed his weapon in on the diving plane and delivered a burst of deadly fire at his foe.

We cannot know for sure Teddy's exact feelings but can only imagine how he must have felt the pain raking his weakened body from his wounds as the 20mm gun kicked and shook his entire body under the recoil of the barking machine gun. The sharp distinct smell of cordite from the expired rounds filled his lungs and coupled with his horrific wounds made his movements difficult. Eyes focused on the immediate objective creating tunnel vision, a natural occurrence when one is experiencing the 'fight or flight' phenomena. Hazy pictures, time and motion stalled, so that everything appears to slow down, it is as if one is experiencing movement in slow motion. The many months of training for this one moment kicks in and hands automatically carry out functions that the brain fails to respond to. The smoke from the blazing weapon obliterates all vision making it difficult to see the target. But, firing, he hammers away at the direction of the diving enemy plane. Unaware he is automatically adjusting his elevation and judgment by the trajectory of the tracer rounds to bring it to bear on his moving target.

His aim was true and he could see the red tracers strike its target, noticeably by the clouds of smoke and flame as bits of the aircraft began flying off from the impact of his rounds. His hits to the frail light-skinned body of the aircraft spurred Teddy on as he continued to deliver a relentless barrage of fire from his machine gun.

The rounds from his aggressive attack raked the Japanese plane mercilessly to find the human target, mortally wounded the young Japanese airman at the controls of his now fiery plane drooped over sideways as his life blood soaked his jacket and obliterated his vision. His hands on the controls became locked in a death grip, sending the pilot and his aircraft downwards, towards the watery realm and the waiting arms of Poseidon, the God of the Sea.

With a huge splash the remainder of the frail craft exploded on impact and sank, leaving only a huge ripple and some white foam to mark its final resting place. Then, nothing as the waters closed in to leave no trace what-so-ever that a young Japanese Airman's body lay beneath, lost forever and far away from home, he lies still in an unknown and watery grave.

Two young men locked in mortal combat yet one the victor only momentarily as both would pay the ultimate price that war brings to young heroes. The sacrifice in blood that is sometimes the reward for doing battle.

Exhausted and weakened from the battle and the loss of blood Teddy felt the cool water immerse his body as the ship gave a final gurgling moan, then silently slipped beneath the waves carrying Teddy with it, still strapped to his machine gun.

Final thoughts for Teddy would not have been for the battle that demanded so much of him. Not the gloating, or the victory over the young Japanese airman whom he had just killed. As the young enemy pilot was also a warrior, and warriors do not gloat over such things, for it is simply a soldier's code, a silent tribute and a salute as a mark of respect to a fallen and vanquished enemy. Such is the fickle finger of fate in combat, sadness and a violent death for a fellow human being, whose fate had entwined them both by war and forces beyond their control.

Instead his final thoughts would possibly drift home to a warm sunny porch and a beautiful waiting wife and children whom he would never see again, but remain safe from this deadly cursed war in a large brown land we call 'Down Under'. Visions of loved ones who would be receiving the news tomorrow of his passing. Mates who will remember his life and his passing as they remember and periodically visit the wall and view his name. In time, his old shipmates will slowly die off or drift away, so that all that remains is a name obscured by many others who perished in this and other wars.

The grandchildren he would never play and frolic with on a lazy Sunday afternoon. The aromatic smell of a Sunday dinner, baked in the old wooden-fueled stove. Home cooked apple pie cooling on the window sill. The warm morning stillness broken by the melodious call of a butcher bird as it scavenged amongst the branches of the flowering golden wattle tree growing at the back of the little cottage that was home.

But perhaps his grandchildren on a visit to Grandma's, one day, would gaze in awe upon the framed picture on the wall of the young sailor dressed in his finest seaman's uniform, cheerfully smiling down at them, perhaps for a moment they would stop and wonder? Then rush off to be absorbed in another children's game. All this flashed before him and what seemingly took moments was in fact only nano-seconds, as he no longer felt the pain of his wounds that shattered his mortal body. For those who had returned from near death experiences have made claims that the final moments before death the body prepares itself and a peace and calm transcends upon it and a feeling of tranquillity develops the whole being. If this is true then Teddy would have closed his weary eyes then felt himself being lifted up from the depths of the cold water and away from the sinking ship. His spirit being drawn upwards to the soothing bright light, visions of former shipmates who went before him to guide his spirit on the long journey.
This we can only speculate.

Teddy has now stepped back into the passing parade of life and for his heroic efforts, his country bestowed upon him the distinction of naming a Collins class submarine in his honour.

Future sailors and those now serving in the Royal Australian Navy wear their ship's name with pride, for it is traditional that we remember our heroes and the tough legacy these extraordinary service personnel leave for us to follow. Just ordinary men and women from all walks in life who stand tall above their fellows in extraordinary circumstances and situations. They rise in all shapes, colours and form to place their mates' safety before their own and in some cases, they sacrifice themselves to save their friends' lives. These unselfish and heroic people do themselves and our country proud.

Heroes one and all, their names immortalized in stone at our National War Museum in Canberra, for it is these men and women whose unselfish sacrifice that makes it possible that future generations can enjoy the freedoms we take for granted. Remember our fallen warriors, for each name upon the wall was once a young person with the same aspirations and dreams as we, and for each name, a story. A story of personal achievement and bravery that we may revere and pay homage to and honour and cherish the gift they have given us.

"Freedom is not free, nor is it a birthright. We owe it to the many who paid for it by their blood and unselfish sacrifice".

Footnote:
The recent purchase by the Australian Government of a new fleet of corvettes of the Bathurst class was brought on by the increasing threat of terrorism and possible infiltration to our vast coastline. One has been named the HMAS Armidale, in honour of the original HMAS Armidale that sank during operations against the Japanese in 1942.
A fitting tribute to a once proud ship and the brave men who sailed in her.