Extraordinary: The journey of six notable World War II journalists, photographers and writers who moulded Australia’s collective sight and memory of armed conflict is shared in Truth Under Fire: Australia’s Second World War Correspondents. Photo: Supplied.
“Amid dangers and unknown, war correspondents report what they see and hear. Those words and images live beyond the moment and become part of the history of Australia.” This quote, inscribed around the granite oculus of the War Correspondents Memorial in the grounds of the Australian War Memorial in Canberra, is of vital historic value.
Historian and researcher Daniel Seaton points out the deep meaning, why this dedication matters and how it resonates across the country in Truth Under Fire: Australia’s Second World War Correspondents. It tells how six exceptional men transformed the Australian perception and remembrance of warfare.
The memorial, dedicated in September 2015, is dedicated to journalists, photographers, artists and film and sound crews who recorded Australia’s military conflicts. It honours those who braved dangerous frontlines to report the realities of war.
At the unveiling, the then prime minister Malcolm Turnbull called it a “memorial to the courage of men and women who do what is so essential in our democracy — hold up the truth to power.”
Drawing attention to the power of the epitaph on the memorial, Seaton writes: “… it was a given that Australian war correspondents, particularly from the First and Second World Wars, would find for themselves a significant place within the narrative of a still young nation.
“They helped to create and embellish an Anzac legend, weaving this thread through the fabric of Australia’s collective understanding of conflict. The war correspondents’ output was irrefutable and more than journalism — it was history.”
Of course, some correspondents carried more weight than others. The founder of the Australian War Memorial, and the visionary behind its creation, was war correspondent Charles Bean. Australia’s official correspondent in the First World War and later its official historian, Bean was one of the originators of the Anzac legend. According to Seaton, Bean had a greater significance than the others.
“His influence was felt not only during his lifetime but by subsequent generations of correspondents who had to grapple with his towering legacy. Reporting from war zones and then dedicating much of his remaining life to telling the story of Australia’s role in the First World War, ‘he himself constituted a part of the story’.”
Bean had emphasised that the search for truth must be the guiding principle of those in his profession. “In his diary from Gallipoli, he wrote: ‘I think the nation must have as true an account of the war as military necessity can permit. I do think the people of any modern state worth living in will require some sort of [truthful] information’.”
However, as Bean himself knew, the lines between fact and fiction, accuracy and embellishment, and objectivity and subjectivity, are often blurred amid the complexities and sensitivities of reporting from war zones.
Seaton points out that this is a quandary that sits at the heart of the profession and presents correspondents with an ethical dilemma. “How do they report the facts while also serving as mouthpieces for powerful news organisations, the government and the military? Censorships and propaganda are the inevitable bedfellows of war, meaning that the lofty notion of ‘the truth’ is stretched, distorted and competes with half-truths and misinformation …”
In fact, it was partly due to their favourable rendering of the truth, and of the Australian fighting man, executed with perhaps surprising levels of artistic craft, that helped to establish the reputations of the correspondents at the heart of this book: Osmar White, George Johnston, Kenneth Slessor, Chester Wilmot, Damien Parer and George Silk. Effectively, they became Charles Bean’s heirs.
This is a biography of six of Australia’s most notable WWII correspondents, who were also significant cultural figures. Some of their work, particularly their coverage of the Pacific theatre, has stood the test of time and remains strongly associated with Australia’s experience of the war.
Seaton argues that to truly understand these journalists, we must consider them not just individually, but as a network. Connected by work, social relationships, artistic ambitions and their engagement with the Anzac legend, their significance is clearest when we read them as a group.
In this vivid, well-illustrated, groundbreaking paperback, Seaton proves this point. Their compelling documentation has become a foundational part of Australia’s historical narrative. Truth Under Fire is an essential read for anyone who wants to learn about Australia’s military past and literature.
Truth Under Fire: Australia’s Second World War Correspondents, by Daniel Seaton, La Trobe University Press, $36.99
