As a sailor, please forgive my indulgence in relating a naval story.

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It is the story of a single ship, and indeed a single man, which embodies the very spirit of the term ANZAC.

At nine o’clock in the morning, a small ship sailed from Darwin under a clear sky.

87 young Australians were crammed onboard, and our country was at war.

In fact, as the ship headed out through the harbour, the air raid sirens wailed out and the city Darwin came under attack.

The ship was HMAS Armidale, in company with HMAS Castlemaine, and the date was 29 November 1942.

These two tiny workhorses of the fleet were being sent on a desperate mission to evacuate soldiers and civilians from Timor.

The enemy knew that a rescue mission was imminent, and as the reconnaissance planes flew high over Darwin that morning, the two northbound warships were spotted.

Any hope of an easy passage was lost.

It was apparent to the Officer in Tactical Command that there was very little chance of success for their mission.

He signalled as such that morning – “Consider prospects. Operation doubtful. Request orders.’

The blunt reply came back from Darwin “RISK MUST BE ACCEPTED.”

That risk was quickly realised. For the next day, the ships were unable to shake the air superiority of the enemy, and came under attack several times.

Fortunately, on the first day, both managed to escape damage.

In the small hours of the following day, November 30th, the two ships crept in to Betano Bay to carry out their mission – evacuate allied personnel.

When they failed to make contact with anyone ashore, the two ships cleared the coast before dawn and headed out to sea.

Shortly after dawn they located the third element of the task force HMAS Kuru.

Kuru had managed to evacuate 70 women and children from Betano only an hour before the other two ships had entered the harbour.

There were more awaiting ashore to be rescued.

There would have to be a second attempt that night.

As the evacuees were being transferred to the Castlemaine, two enemy planes appeared.

Low on endurance, Kuru managed to cast off and seek shelter in a rain squall, while the two corvettes took the fight to the enemy.

Although the Zeros were unsuccessful in this attack, the warships realised they had again been located by an enemy with free range of the sky.

They still had a mission to accomplish though, which was locate and evacuate the remainder of the survivors that night.

With a deck full of civilians, at 1100 Castlemaine reluctantly left Armidale to complete the rescue alone that night, and headed towards Darwin with the survivors.

The sailors in Armidale knew they faced another ten hours of daylight, alone within easy flying distance of a major Japanese airbase.

They knew they had been located, and they knew with just as much certainty that their mission was hopeless.

So what did they do?

They grabbed a quick lunch of tinned peaches and a sandwich - and they manned their guns.

They didn’t have long to wait.

Armidale came under attack by five Japanese dive bombers just before 1300.

They managed to fend off this attack while signalling desperately for fighter support.

At 1430 however, the fatal attack arrived – nine bombers and four fighters turned up to account for the lone Australian corvette.

I will finish by reading Frank Walkers account of the battle..

“The end came quickly. Just after 1510, a torpedo slammed into the port side of the ship at the after end of the mess deck where the Dutch soldiers were huddled. It killed most of them.

A jagged hunk of metal the size of a bucket tore into the Comcen, ripping the sets to bits and preventing Armidale getting a signal away to say she had been hit.

“One minute later, another torpedo hit home between the engine room and the boiler room on the port side, breaking the ships back.

“Then a bomb struck the water on the starboard side aft, blowing another hole in the ship’s hull. There was nothing Richards could do except give the order to abandon ship.”

“Able Seaman Jim Pellet and Ordinary Seaman Teddy Sheean took to launching the ships motorboat, which would prove crucial in the tale of survival about to unfold. Armidale was now heeling sharply to port, and it was hard to keep a footing.

“Some of the crew were already in the water, swimming away to avoid being dragged down with the ship.

“Having crippled the ship, the Japanese now turned their full fury on the survivors – streaking in at sea level with guns and cannons blazing. The men in the water seemed doomed. Some duck dived to avoid the hissing bullets, only to come up for air and have their heads shot off.

“Sheean could see that his shipmates were being ripped to bits. He himself was as yet unwounded and could have sought shelter near the bridge or the funnel. He could have dived overboard and trusted his luck by duck-diving. He did none of these things.

“Instead, he scrambled back to the Oerlikon gun abaft the bridge – a distance of some ten hazardous meters from where he launched the boat – thrust his young shoulders into the semi-circular grips at the rear of the gun, and strapped himself in.

“The ship was already sinking fast – it took only three minutes from the time the first torpedo struck until she vanished.

“The moment Sheean fastened that strap, he must have known he would go down with the ship.

“He poured a stream of 20mm shells at the strafing Japanese planes, sending one cartwheeling into the sea. A Zero flashed in, its guns blazing, and slashed Sheean’s chest and back wide open. With blood pouring from his wounds, Sheean kept fighting, forcing some of the planes to sheer away on approach. The ship was sinking faster now, and water was lapping his feet. Sheean kept firing.

“The men in the water gasped in amazement as this blood stained youngster wheeled his gun from target to target, his powerless legs dragging on the deck.

“Then the most incredible sight of all – the ship plunged down and the sea rose up past Sheean’s waist to his shattered chest, but still he kept firing as the gun itself was dragged into the sea.

“Even when there was nothing left of the ship above the water, tracer bullets from Sheean’s gun kept shooting up from under the water in forlorn, bizarre arcs.

“Armidale, and a young seaman 17 days shy of his 19th birthday, had kept fighting beyond the end.

“It was an act of sublime, selfless heroism. It was not the result of years of training and discipline – Sheean had been in the Navy just a few months.

“He was not acting on orders. It was his decision and his decision alone.

“It was not a question of duty – the order to abandon ship had been given, and he was free to save his own life.

“Instead, he chose to try and save the lives of his shipmates and to inflict as much damage on a merciless enemy as he could.

“It was valour above and beyond the call of duty.”

“Sheean was not the only hero that day, or on the grim days that followed. The appalling ordeal that lay ahead of the survivors was going to bring out qualities that they did not even know they had.”

Of her crew of 86, ARMIDALE lost 40 dead in the attack and in the days that followed.

There were 46 survivors rescued from the ship’s whaler and motorboat after ten days adrift in the Timor Sea.

More survivors sighted alive on a raft eight days after the sinking were never found again.

While I hope well known within our community, I never cease to be moved by the story of ARMIDALE and of Sheean.

While the youngster has deservedly achieved hero status in our naval history, the entire ship embodied what we loosely know as the ANZAC spirit.

Although in a hopeless situation, they did not give up hope, or give up the fight. The ship and her crew doggedly tried to achieve the aim until the bitter end.

I count it an honour to have served in the submarine bearing SHEEAN’s name; to have served in the follow on class of ship to bear the ARMIDALE name; and to routinely ply the azure northern seas in which ARMIDALE was lost.

HMAS SHEEAN remains the only RAN ship to be named in honour of an ordinary seaman, and its simple motto “FIGHT ON” cannot help but inspire.

While I dare not compare my service to that which ARMIDALE 1 was called upon to give, I see in today’s youth the same grim determination to do the job when called upon.

I witnessed that determination, and so many of the traits of the elusive “ANZAC spirit” amongst my own crew on numerous occasions.

I was fortunate enough to attend a talk by Corporal Daniel Kieghren, VC just a week ago, and know that the spirit of ANZAC is alive and well in modern day theatres of operations.

Today there are more than 3000 ADF members deployed on operations right across the globe, in some of the most demanding operational theatres we have ever been involved in.

From Afghanistan to Ashmore Reef, the ADF continues to follow in the tradition of the original ANZACs who stormed ashore at Gallipoli 98 years ago this morning.

That battle would ultimately come to be recognised as a military failure, however it in no way lessened what was achieved by a young nation over the coming months.

It is a tradition we are all a part of, and of which we can be justifiably proud.

Lest we forget