John Regan was born in Jarrahdale, Western Australia around 1895. He played for Training College before the war. He enlisted in October 1914 and embarked for Gallipoli in May 1915. His casualty form makes stark reading. Private Regan received gunshot wounds to both arms and legs on 6 August 1915. Though his legs were amputated, that did not save him and he died of wounds the next day on 7 August 1915, the day on which he was also buried.
The following letter to cousin M. Brindley was published in the Geraldton Express on 16 August 1915, nine days after Private Regan’s death.
30th June.
Dear Mick, — Your letters and papers arrived O.K.; many thanks for same. Grossy, Luke, and a few more of the Geraldton knuts arrived here a few days ago. They are all looking fit, and like their new job. We had a bit of a storm here last night. It was very dark, and the wind was blowing and the lightning flashing; and to make things a bit lively the Turks made a bit of a charge, and, as they always do, came off second-best. I can tell you, it was lively while it lasted. We would like them to charge every night. If they did we would all be spending the midsummer holidays in Constantinople.
One of the German officers threw a note into our trench a couple of days ago. It read something like this: “You are playing a hopeless game, and if you don’t surrender within 28 hours we will drive you all into the sea. Don’t be afraid to surrender, as we will treat you well, and you can have a good time in Constantinople ” Our 28 hours are up long ago, but we are still on the earth.
There was a bit of a battle on some time ago here, and the enemy was charging, and the boys were pouring lead into them, and mowing them like flies. “Pink Top” (you remember him who had a shop in Perth) was doing his bit, and somehow a German officer got into our trench, and said to “Pink Top”, “Pass the word, along to cease firing.” “Pink Top,” thinking it a funny thing to cease firing at a time like that, said to the “Square-head,” whom he thought was one of our officers, “Is that dinkum?” The German, not knowing what it meant, thought “Pink Top” was inquiring if the officer’s name was “dinkum,” and, of course, the German said, “Yes, that is, my name.” “Pink Top” said : “Eggs, a-cooked you —– Take that,” and gave him about 12 inches of cold steel. There are many good tales told here about different scraps.
I suppose you heard about poor old Reg. Clarke. I went up to see him when we first landed here, and I seen Les. Witing and Harry Reid, and I asked them where Reg was, and they showed me his grave. Lou Bertram was looking O.K. the last time I seen him. The fighting was rather rough around where he is last night, so the first opportunity I get I will go around and see if he is well. I was told Bill Bowie (the barman at the Victoria) is here somewhere. I have not seen him yet. Let me know the whereabouts of Snowy Sweeting. If you have any books (novels) you have read, give them a passage over here. Don’t be too long in answering.
Love to all at home.— your affectionate cousin, Jack