Ross Jackson
THE word Cenotaph comes from the two Greek words kenos taphos; translated into English, they have the literal meaning of empty tomb.
As 1920 closed, the rear guard of surviving combatants to the Great War trickled home to hearth and kin. A price had been paid; in many cases, even for those still breathing and upright, the price was heavy.
An urgent need to do something to acknowledge this debt lingered in the soul of a nation deep in mourning. An acknowledgement to those who went, from those who did not, was foremost in every rational thinking citizen of the towns and cities of the free world. Sale was no exception.
The Honour Board was the most popular form of recognition; shires, boroughs, churches, schools, clubs, sporting groups and many more unveiled their tribute in a prominent part of their establishments.
A Sale and district Borough Honour Board, made of hardwood, was put forward at a council meeting and the job of collecting the names was placed in the hands of the Town Clerk, Mr Andrew G Holt.
The honour board idea was rejected by the councillors of Sale because it was successfully argued that the board would be at the council chambers, and would be seen by a limited amount of people.
1922 saw the inauguration of the Solders Memorial Women’s Fund, initiated by Mayor Cullinan and taken up by the Mayoress Ms Sarah Cullinan, the Mayor’s sister. 17 women attended with four apologies; the women voted in a committee and began their fundraising within days.
The women met each month and devised strategies to seek donations. Donors were encouraged to join the meetings and the response became favourable; the meetings became known as Subscribers Meetings.
On September 17, 1923 at one of the Subscribers Meetings, 28 designs of war memorials were presented. A selection committee was quickly formed, comprising of both men and women. This committee dwindled the number of styles down to six: four obelisk styles, a bronze figure of a soldier “resting on his rifle”, and one marble statue of a woman symbolising victory. The selection was voted on and the statue of “the victory woman” was the successful choice.
The location of the memorial became an issue, with many disagreeing on the planned site – the intersection of Foster and Raymond Streets in Sale. One Subscriber pointed out the obvious: the memorial was in danger of being run in to by motor vehicles.
Victoria Park (next to Sale Primary School) was an alternative, but dismissed by the fact that it was tucked away off the main roads. Eventually this issue was resolved by a vote from the Subscribers, and the intersection of Foster and Raymond Sts with a southern aspect prevailed, despite the danger to motor cars.
The monument was unveiled on June 16, 1924 without the names of the fallen inscribed.
Soon after, a donation from Messrs Charles and James Napper allowed the inscription of names on the cenotaph, done by the volunteer service of Mr J. Triggs, the Monumental Mason in Sale.
Ross Jackson is the resident historian at the Gippsland Veterans Centre in Sale. This story is comprised of extracts from his non-fiction book Empty Tomb: The story of the Sale and district Cenotaph 1924 – 1949. The book is available to read at Wellington Libraries.