Sometimes, artefacts show up at the Museum entirely without context. This creates very particular challenges for museum staff, especially when the item looks interesting.
Items might be left on the Museum’s doorstep by an anonymous donor, or a volunteer may finally get time to clear out the deep recesses of long forgotten storage – only to reveal a box of objects that (for any myriad of reasons) escaped being assessed and catalogued at the time of arrival at the museum. That is the nature of a volunteer run community museum like the Batemans Bay Heritage Museum, which has grown into an established community archive over the course of decades.
When this happens – especially when there’s no note, and no known donor – it’s even harder than usual to uncover the history and significance of curious artefacts.
But if you’re into mysteries? Well, then you’ve struck gold, and this time I have a real puzzle for you: the Mystery of the Diary of Bombardier J Sadler.
The Discovery of a Small Black Book
It all started when a long-forgotten storage box at our museum revealed a small paper journal, 4 x 6 inches in size, with patterned black paper cover.
The journal has 150 lined pages, filled with neat handwriting in pencil and page one it is signed “Bdr. J.R. SADLER 425211, 109th Bty. 9th Field Brigade”.
The first page isn’t dated, and the writer launches straight into a narrative, as if it was the continuation of a previous entry:
“The British and French delegates, it is believed, persuaded the Russians to make this gesture of confidence in Poland. The Poles will now feel free to send the greater part of their eastern forces to reinforce their army on the German frontier. Coal valued at $900,000 will be exported to Russia from Poland. The first shipment will leave Gdynia tomorrow. Germany is pressing Hungary for a customs and currency union well-informed quarters in Budapest declare. The Tientsin blockade will be intensified if Britain does not alter her attitude,”
The paragraph references several central events in the lead up to World War Two: (a) the negotiations between the Anglo-French alliance and Russia, which were abruptly cut off when the Molotov-Ribbentrop pact was announced on August 23, 1939; (b) the mounting tensions on the Polish-German border, and precarious position of Poland facing Russia on one side and Germany on the other; as well as (c) the so called “Tientsin incident”, in which the Japanese army carried out a blockade of the British trade enclave in the Chinese city Tientsin (today called Tianjin) in response to the British providing refuge to three Chinese nationalists who had assassinated the manager of a Japanese owned bank. The paragraph is dense with significance, and shows a writer with excellent grasp of the importance of these events for how the subsequent history unfolded.
The pages which follow document two weeks of key diplomatic developments in Europe and Asia, leading to the German invasion of Poland (September 1, 1939,) and to Britain declaring war on Germany (September 3).
The account is drawn from multiple sources, with the writer clearly consulting most of the papers of the day. In the quote above he references “well-informed quarters” in Budapest, while other parts of the diary rely on news from The Guardian, and The Times, as well as the US foreign office and various news correspondents based in Europe. For example, in the first dated entry, on August 18, Sadler writes:
“Reviewing the crisis in Europe, a British Official Wireless bulletin significantly approves a “Daily Herald” statement that there can be no second Munich. The German Press belligerently denies that Germany & Italy are planning a conference with Britain & France on the Danzig issue.”
A Diary with No (Personal) Details?
It is notable that the diary includes no references to Sadler’s personal life or circumstances. After reading 150 pages of his diary we know almost nothing about J Sadler the individual – his plans, his hopes, or his daily life – during the two weeks of historic turmoil he documents.
His account is also almost entirely descriptive, recounting events and the views of political and diplomatic players in the unfolding events, but devoid of analysis or opinions of his own. For instance, on September 3 (p. 136) he soberly reports that:
Sunday evening about 8.15 p.m. Britain declares war on Germany. This was announced over all wireless stations and by special editions of the paper in the city.
It is, however, clear from references to “Hitlerism” (p.139) that Sadler’s position is wishing to avoid a war, but accepting that one may be unavoidable as a result of Hitler’s aggressive conduct in Europe.
A rare show of emotion is indicated on page 137, when Sadler reports that: “A British ship has been torpedoed!”, punctuating with an exclamation mark.
Two Important Exceptions
The descriptive account of the lead up to the war is interrupted on two occasions, and are the only real places where we learn something about Sadler the man.
The first example (pages 79 and 80) is from August 28, namely two hand-drawn diagrams of electrical components of a car engine. One bears the caption “Field circuit grounded directly to a generator frame. Used on Models 81 & 91 without Radio (Grahams Car)”
The second diagram is labelled “Step voltage control. Used on model 91 with Radio (Grahams car).”
“Grahams car” was the colloquial term for an automobile manufactured by Graham-Paige Motors Corporation, an American company active briefly during the interwar period. The company pioneered a streamlined look with fringed fenders and back sloping grille, and brought supercharger technology to mid-range cars. In the Australian context they were rather upmarket, particularly given the steep tariffs on importing foreign cars.
The inclusion of the two schematics in the middle of his account of developments on August 28 suggests a few different possibilities. Either the drawings predate the account of the breakout of the war, and Sadler simply completed his journalling around them. Or his summary of August 28 took place over at least two sessions, with something occasioning the drawing of the diagram in-between. Either way, Sadler clearly had some technical skills, and was well versed in engine mechanics.
The Fascinating Final Page
The other exception to the documentary account of the breakout of war was on the final page of the notebook. On the penultimate page Sadler writes: “Bombing started at 5 p.m. Sydney time Friday Sept 1st. News announcement here at 9.15 pm Syd time.” On the next and final page he continues enigmatically:
The Mutual Life & Citizens Assurance Company Ltd Castlereagh Street and Martin Place (Mr Stewart).
Blue shoes, good one. 2 old pair.
Old slippers.
Cup and saucer.
Green slip left in bathroom things in dirty clothes.
It is difficult to know what to make of this sudden shift from global affairs to what must be issues relevant to Sadlers personal circumstances. The words suggest a to-do list, or perhaps a packing list. It is tempting to assume that the words have something to do with the outbreak of the war – perhaps Sadler was organising life insurance and packing prior to shipping out. Or the list was scribbled at a different occasion altogether, when something to write on was called for, and the last page of the notebook was all that was to hand.
There is much that can be learnt from a text like this without a detailed understanding of the author’s identity and their specific circumstances. As a historical document the diary captures the mood of the time. It shows us what caught the attention of a soldier weeks from shipping out. It highlights the language that was used and shows us how the emerging conflict was represented and understood by those living at the time.
Digging Deeper to Find Sadler
However, if we want to move from general knowledge about the time and context, and perhaps understand the specific intentions of the writer we need to know more about them.
One of our museum volunteers researched the archives of the Australian War Memorial to see if J.R. Sadler could be identified, and found four men by the name of J.R. Sadler. None of them have apparent ties to our local Batemans Bay area, but the most closely associated man was James Raymond Sadler, born in 1912 in Cowra, and killed in action in Papua-New Guinea in 1942. However, this J.R. Sadler was a Bombardier with 2/1st Field Regiment, service number NX12908, while our diarist was in the 109th Battery, 9th Field Brigade, service number 425211. The same soldier could receive more than one service number, as the structure of the army changed, so it wasn’t impossible that this is the same man.
The National Archives of Australia provides access to Australian war and defence records, and in their database we find the full service record of JR Sadler. Thrillingly, the record indeed lists both service numbers, and we are therefore able to confirm that this is indeed the diarist.
Through this record we find out that Sadler was a technical fitter by trade, which explains the diagrams of the circuitry of the Grahams car. We also find out that he was married to Marjorie Joyce Sadler and lived in Katoomba. A handwritten letter from Mrs Sadler dated to 1977 requests a copy of her husband’s death certificate, which gives us a sample of Mrs Sadler’s handwriting. This hand is similar to the list at the end of the diary, raising the possibility that the final page was written by his wife, rather than Sadler himself. Given the reference to a life insurance company, perhaps even after his death.
The real puzzle is how this diary ended up in the Museum, and that is a mystery we won’t so easily be able to solve.
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Thank you to museum volunteers Andy Pond and Deb Hope for invaluable help with researching this puzzle.
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