-PN- GN -FN- G SURNAME GIVEN NAMES CH.FNsBIRTH DATE

084A15001AM WILLIAMS HERBERT R. GRAHAM73(18??)

^1 16014M ^2 See also comments in the entry for Letitia Hochee 13007F

ittle is known of (Herbert) Graham, although he corresponded for some time with John Young^1in Western Australia. He married Lottie Rumble in 1921. The English Civil Registration from 1837 Index states that the marriage was recorded in the parish of Woolwich, England for the June 1921 quarter, reference 1d 2001. He and Lottie had one son, John. By 1989, John Young had lost contact with Graham, who had moved to a nursing home somewhere in England, and may have died. Contact was also lost with his son John^2.

001A15001AF RUMBLE LOTTIE GEORGINA73(17. 5.1893)

^1 Sources of information: Kate Rumble's (14004F) diaries; Henry St.John Knight's (14015M) 1897 letter to Kate; John Young (16014M), and researches of Brenda Rohl (17033F).

rom the sources given below, we know that Lottie was born on 17 May 1893 in the parish of Kings Norton, England. She was the first child of Herbert Rumble and Mary Knight who, at that time, were living at Birmingham. Her birth was recorded in the parish of King's Norton for the quarter April-June 1893, [Reference 6c 463], in the name "Lottie Georgina", so we know that "Lottie" was not a nickname for Charlotte. King's Norton is on the A441 road just south of Central Birmingham. Lottie was Christened at St. Germain's Church, Blackheath, London, on 28 January 1894; She married Graham Williams, the marriage being recorded in the parish of Woolwich, July 1921. We do not know her year of death. She is also mentioned in the entry to the Index of Wills for her mother Mary, in 1949. In 1920, Letitia Hochee left her £100^1.

0 15 002A M WILLIAMS ? (18??)

Nothing is known of Mr Williams.

001A15002A F RUMBLE LETITIA MAUD GERALDINE(17. 9.1894)

^1 As recorded by Kate Knight (14004F)in a birth- day book given to her daughter Dorothy (15016F)

ettie, second child of Herbert Rumble and Mary Knight, was born on 17 September 1894^1. The London Records Office records her birth under the name "Letitia Geraldine," in the parish of Basingstoke for the quarter October - December 1894 Reference 2c 199. All personal family records note her as "Lettie". From her mother's will, it appears that she married a Mr Williams, but no details are known.

105A 15 003A M CARTER HAROLD ( ?. ?.1903)

arold was the son of Henry Carter, a farmer. At the age of nineteen, by special licence, he married Mary Dorothy Rumble and they had four children. He was a butcher by trade. Nothing else is known.

001A15003AFRUMBLE MARY DOROTHY(17. 9.1901)

	ary, the third child of Herbert Rumble and Mary Knight, was born on 17 September, 1901. The London Records Office shows that the birth was registered in the parish of Chorlton for the January-March quarter 1901, [Reference 8c 751.]
Details of her birth	Her birth certificate, in the registration district of Chorlton, sub district of Aldwich in the counties of Manchester and Lancaster, shows that she was born at 9 Beach Range, Gorton. Her father was listed as Herbert Montague Rumble, Mechanical Engineer, and her mother as M.G.Rumble. The birth was registered on 15 October 1901.
She married Harold Carter by special licence, in 1922	Mary was married on 30 December 1922, at the age of 21 years, to Harold Carter, 19 years, who was a butcher by trade. Harold's father was Henry Carter, a farmer. The marriage certificate shows that they were married in the parish church of St.Matthew, in the parish of Harlaston in the county of Staffordshire "by special licence".
They had four children	Mary and Harold had four children, Raymond, Richard, Dennis and Josephine.
Mary married a second time	Mary married for a second time, sometime before 1948, to Jim Allan. They had a daughter, Mary. It is not known when Mary Dorothy died.

0 15 003B M ALLAN JIM (1???)

Nothing is known of Jim Allan, the second husband of Mary Dorothy Rumble.

001A 15 003B F RUMBLE MARY DOROTHY (17. 9.1901)

he last Will and Testament of Mary Dorothy's mother, dated 27 October 1948, makes reference to "Mary Dorothy Allan". From this it is presumed that she married twice.

001A15004AM RUMBLE CYRIL FORTESCUE 95( ?. 9.1910)

yril was the fifth and youngest child of Herbert Rumble & Mary Knight. His birth is recorded in the September quarter, 1910, in the parish of Hayfield, reference 7b 929.

In the index of Wills, the entry for his mother states that he was a surveyor. In December 1939 he married Violet Govier, and had a daughter, Juliet, in 1940.

0 15 004A F GOVIER VIOLET A.C. 95(19??)

Violet married Cyril Rumble.

001A15005AM RUMBLE MONTAGUE HERBERT( ?. ?.1904)

onty was the fourth child of Herbert Rumble & Mary Knight. His birth is recorded for the January 1904 quarter in the parish of Chorlton, England. He may have been born late in 1903 or early 1904. He married Amy Augusta Tebboth, 22 years, daughter of Harry Tebboth, a greengrocer. The marriage certificate shows that the marriage was solemnised in the parish church in the parish of St.Nicholas, Radford, in the counties of Coventry and Warwick on 14 July 1928. He was then 24 years of age, and an engineer by profession. At that time he was living at 33 Hewitt Avenue (Radford?). His death on 11 March 1962 at Coventry, at the age of 57, is recorded in the parish of Coventry for the March 1962 quarter, [reference 9c 969.] The entry in the Index of Wills states:

Rumble, Montague Herbert of 77 Deansway Ash Green Exhall Coventry Warwickshire who died 11 March 1962 Admin Birmingham to Amy Augusta Rumble Widow

Personal Effects £2,429 5s

-PN- GN -FN- G SURNAME GIVEN NAMES CH.FNsBIRTH DATE

106A 15 005A F TEBBOTH AMY AUGUSTA ( ?.?.1905)

my was the daughter of Harry Tebboth, a greengrocer in Radford, County of Coventry and Warwick. She was born in the parish of Pancras in 1905. She married Montague Herbert Rumble in 1928 at the age of 22. She was still alive when her husband died in 1962. Nothing else is known.

002A15006AMRUMBLE JOHN FAITHFUL SCOTT 01-02( 3. 1.1919)

ohn was known throughout his life as "Jock". The son of John Euean Rumble and Gladys Scott, he was born on 3 January 1919. He married Joyce Rose, known as Judy, in 1948 and had two sons, Michael (b.1952) and David (b.1954). Jock died in 1971 at the age of 52.

The entry in the Index of Wills for his mother describes him as a Dental Surgeon. His entry in the Index of Wills states:

Rumble, John Faithful Scott of 85b South St Eastbourne in the County of Sussex who died 12 October 1971 Probate Brighton £13,349

015006AF ROSE JOYCE FLORENCE (JUDY) 01-02( 5. 1.1920)

^1 16001M ^2 16021M

ichael Rumble^1, in a family chart, showed his mother as Joyce Florence. However, she is known as, and signs herself, "Judy". She was born on 5 January, 1920 and married John Faithful (Jock) Rumble. She and Jock had two children. In 1994 Judy lived at 85B South Street, Eastbourne, Sussex, United Kingdom BN 21 4LR. In 1989 she was instrumental in putting John Fall^2 in touch with other members of the family in Britain who were interested in their family history.

002A15007AM RUMBLE THOMAS EUEAN (TIM)03-04,82(2.3.1922)

^1 15016F ^2 16001M ^3 Judy Rumble (15006F) in a 1989 letter to John Fall (16021M) stated that Tim died in 1986, but this was probably an error.

orothy Fall^1 recorded the son of John Euean Rumble and Gladys Scott as "Tim." However, Michael Rumble^2 stated his name as "Thomas Euean." It was the practice in this branch of the family to refer to all members by their nicknames. Tim married Adeline Firth, known as "Pat". They had three children: Gillian (b.1947), Melanie (b.1951), and Timothy (b.1961.) The entry in Index of Wills for his mother describes him as a Buying Manager. Thomas Euean died in 1985. His entry in the Index of Wills states: Rumble, Thomas Euean of Oakwood East La West Horsley Leatherhead in the County of Surrey who died 29 May 1985^3 Probate Winchester £387 12s

015007AFFIRTHADELINE ISABELLE (PAT) 03-04,82(7.6.1922)

^1 15016F

orothy Fall^1 recorded her name as "Pat." Born on 7 June 1922, she married Thomas Euean (Tim) Rumble. Nothing else is known. They had three children, Gillian, Melanie and Timothy.

-PN- GN -FN- G SURNAME GIVEN NAMES CH.FNsBIRTH DATE

065A15008AM BAYNTON GEORGE 80 ( ?. ?.1901)

^1 16021M

eorge was born in 1901. In a letter to John Fall^1 in December 1990, he wrote of an incident in his early life: I am never tired of telling of my early life when, as a boy of fourteen and two months, I started as an apprentice and was put on the hospital ship "Stad Antwerpan" bringing wounded back from France. It was a converted Ostend/Dover mail steamer, very fast with a bow rudder suited to the channel ports with their long wooden piers and small docks with little turning room. It was in fact the LAST ship to leave Ostend and many times I heard the Master tell how the Germans were within five minutes of ranging their guns on her, and were crossing the bridge at the end of the docks as the rope was cast off and she sailed away to England, and safety. Many times I viewed with horror the deep axe cut in the lovely teak deck where the quartermaster had severed the mooring line, there being no shore staff left to throw the rope off the bollard. About ten years ago when Frances and I were recalling past happenings, she mentioned that her Mother, an orphan and working as nanny to the children of the Mayor of Bruges, escaped with him and his family, "On the last Mail Steamer to leave Ostend." Imagine my amazement when I realised that I joined that ship a year later. What an amazing coincidence, and coming to light after about 64 years!! Just before the end of World War I George was transferred to deep sea vessels. After collecting his Master's Ticket he served for a while, but there was much redundancy, and he never held a command. He served as a purser for a year then `swallowed the anchor and took a shore berth.'

^2 17148F ^3 17149F ^4 These dates are estimated from an old family photo graph taken in 1966

He then worked for Powell Duffryn,P.D., a ship bunkering combine. His headquarters were at Dover. He said: Dover was a very hot spot during World War II, with every kind of aerial horror, and a target for mammoth guns across the Straits of Dover. But we survived. We do not know the name of George's first wife. We know that by this marriage he had at least one child, Joan. Joan had two children Judith^2, born around 1956, and Jennifer^3 born around 1958^4.

065A15008BM BAYNTON GEORGE0 ch( ?. ?.1901)

n later life George remarried. Frances Rumble became his second wife. They had no children. In 1994, he and Frances were leading active lives in Gairloch, Scotland.

George said that he has a sound and honourable heritage. In 1991 he wrote:

Sir Henry Baynton was Knight Marshall to King Henry II, and his son was a Knight of St.John, killed at a battle in Bretagne in 1201. The records show a continuance of people, often in high places. There is mention of a Captain Baynton who arrived with his battleship at Trafalgar.

-PN- GN -FN- G SURNAME GIVEN NAMES CH.FNsBIRTH DATE

003A15008BF RUMBLE FRANCES MARTHA 0ch(29. 6.1919)

^1 Later than 1952 - see the entry for her father where, in the entry in the Index of Wills, she is described in 1952 as a spinster. ^2 14008F ^3 16014F ^4 16021M ^5 Source: letters to John Fall from Frances and her husband George.

rances, the daughter of Ernest Rumble and Martha Saelens, was born on 29 June 1919 and trained as a nurse. In later life she married George Baynton^1. They had no children. When her Aunt Eueanita Blanche Rumble^2 died in 1949, she was left her Ruby and Diamond ring. In 1994 she and George were living at: Beul-na-Mara, Gairloch, Ross-shire, Scotland. She maintained contact with a number of relatives in Western Australia including Miriamme Young^3 and John Fall^4. Frances lives right on the shore in an old stone house. There is a strip of grass and a few rocks between the house and the sea, so they have a superb view across Gairloch - meaning a "short loch." The loch is about half a mile across and there is a children's playground on the yellow sands of the opposite shore. Beyond the shore there is a nine hole golf course with a background of the 3,000 foot Torridon mountains, snow covered for part of the year. Gairloch catches the warmth of the Gulf Stream, so it never gets too cold, even though it is farther north than Moscow. Gairloch is about seventy miles from the large town of Inverness. In 1988 Frances said that she and George were both leading very busy lives, involved in many village activities: carpet bowls, golf, walking and exercising their dog; At the Women's institute, she is involved in tapestry and painting. They both go swimming every week in an indoor pool. They both garden and do their own house decorating, inside and out. In 1990 she was running a small painting group, giving help to beginners. She always had artistic talent. In 1939, when her mother died, she attended Dover Art school for six months. At the time, her father, Ernest, who was a fine painter, said^5 to her, `They will ruin everything that you have ever known about painting, but it will come back again when you leave.'

003A15009AM RUMBLE JOSEPH DUNCAN74-75,83(15. 9.1922)

^1 See 11001M

oseph, the son of Ernest Rumble & Martha Saelens, was born on the 15 September 1922. He married Joyce Caesar and they had three children, Mark, Mary (known as Maryanne) and Angela. Joseph became a dental surgeon, eventually specialising in facial accident repair and was associated with major London hospitals. He remained active in his field until reaching seventy years of age but in 1993 still engaged in some consultancy work. He found retirement hard to accept. Joe was always interested in cars, and in 1993 owned a BMW and was a director of the BMW Car Club. He possesses a copy of the de Brotherton Coat of Arms^1. His address in 1993 was 8 Kitchener Close, Barham, Kent, England, CT4.

015009AF CAESAR JOYCE MURIEL 74-75,83(19??)

othing is known other than that she married Joseph Rumble and had three children, Mark, Mary and Angela.

-PN- GN -FN- G SURNAME GIVEN NAMES CH.FNsBIRTH DATE

004A15010AM RUMBLE HORACE 05-08(18. 6.1889)

Born at Reading, England on 18 June 1889 ^1The entry in the English Civil Registration from 1937 Index states: Rumble, Horace, June 1889, Read- ing, 2c 361.	orace, the oldest of seven surviving children of Harry Humfrey Rumble and Kate Rosaline Knight, was born at Reading in England on 18 June 1889^1. His parents migrated to Sydney, Australia early in 1892 bringing with them Horace, who was then two and a half years old, and his brother Eric who was one. Three more children were born in Sydney before the family moved to Fremantle, Western Australia in 1897. Horace started working for the National Mutual Insurance Company in Perth, Western Australia in 1905, and remained with them all his working life. He married Vera Glover after returning from service in the first world war. His lifetime interest was yachting, and he lived to be over one hundred years of age. g In 1989 when Horace was almost 100 years old, he reminisced about the first house in which he had lived in Fremantle. He said:
Memories of living at Henderson Street, Fremantle in 1899	I remember that we were in a two storey place in Henderson Street because on the day we sailed on a yacht to Rottnest at daybreak, when I was ten, we came back with a lot of fish on board. There was a smart sea breeze and she rolled the whole way home. They sat me up on the deck with my right arm around the main stay - and I copped every wave! When I got ashore, the whole place reeled about, and I was still physically reeling about when I tried to go up the stairs to my bedroom. So I remember the Henderson Street House. Today there is a parking lot near the police station. That's where it was. There were four, two-story houses just there. We lived in the second one from the left.
Moving to Marmion Street Plympton. Staying home for a year to help mother Phyllis born 6 May 1898 Dorothy born 29 December 1900	When we lived at Henderson Street I went to Fremantle Boys School, but then when we moved to Marmion Street, Plympton, I went to the East Fremantle School which was just opposite. At about that time I stayed home from school for a whole year. My mother became ill and my father kept me home to help my mother do all the domestic work. I was about ten years old at the time; Dorothy and Phyl were both born at Marmion Street and I used to wheel them about in their prams and I did their washing.
Moving to Colin Street, West Perth. Starting work in 1905 as an office boy at National Mutual	The family moved to No.1 Colin Street, West Perth, around 1903, and Horace started work as an office boy in the National Mutual Life Insurance Company in 1905. He recalled that in those early days neither the Perth office nor the Head Office in Melbourne owned a typewriter, and that all communication with Head Office was by ship, there being no other means of transport.
^2Available diaries for Kate start in May 1911	It was in 1902 that Horace's parents became Catholics and his mother, Kate, recorded in her diary^2 that the children, including Horace, attended Mass regularly. All the children were confirmed on 5 November, 1911. Sometime in 1914 Harry and Kate ceased to be active Catholics, and did not return to the Church until 1922. From 1914 onwards there is no mention of Horace going to church. Horace and his younger brother Eric were keen Lacrosse players. Kate sometimes recorded this in her diary: Sat.3rd June 1911: Horace and Eric got their first beating at Lacrosse this season. They played at Midland. Sat.9th Sept 1911: Daddy, I, Phyl and Dolly went to Wellington Square to see Horace and Eric play a Lacrosse match Trinity V North Perth. Trinity won, so they play a semi- final against Y.M.C.A. next Saturday. Sat. 16th Sept 1911: Humfrey took Phyl and Doll to the pictures & Maudie & I went to Loton Park to see Horace & Eric play their last Lacrosse match this season, as they were beaten by Y.M.C.A. In May 1912 Kate wrote about Eric playing Lacrosse, but there is no mention of Horace. By this time Horace was more concerned with yachting. In August 1915 Harry Rumble was appointed Resident Engineer at Bunbury and the family moved to that town. The boys stayed in Perth as they were working.
Early interest in boats	Horace developed an early interest in boats. Together with two friends, Allan and Roy Murray he sailed in several small craft. The first mention of this in his mother's diary occurs on Saturday, 30 September 1911 when she wrote: `Roy and Allan Murray came for afternoon and evening to help Horace with his yacht.' She continued to make brief notes about yachting. Sometimes Eric joined Horace. The two boys also enjoyed camping. Kate recorded that on Christmas Eve 1911, after attending mass in the morning, Horace and Eric left for a ten- day camp at Attadale. Two days after Christmas, the family had a picnic at Como and joined the boys with their yacht there. Kate also recorded on that day: `We had our first ride in a motor car, from South Perth jetty to Como.' At this time the family lived at 102 Aberdeen street and, between seasons, Horace kept his yacht at home. Kate's diary, for Saturday 16 November 1912, notes: `At mid-day a lorry came for Horace's yacht which he and Roy Murray finished painting up last night and they launched her today for the season.'
Starting to build the "Merc edes" in 1913	By 1913, when he was twenty-four, he had started working on the boat that he would sail for the rest of his life from the Royal Perth Yacht Club. There are several entries in Kate's diary. On Sunday, 2 March 1913 she noted: `Horace and Roy Murray bought a new yacht - 25ft. - last week.' On Good Friday, 21 March 1913, she wrote: `Horace paid a morning visit to the Altar of Repose before going on building his new yacht at South Perth.' Horace purchased the basic hull, probably with the ribs completed, from a boat- builder who had suffered a fire. While the boat-builder's premises had burnt down, the stock in his yard was undamaged. Horace and Roy worked on the planking and gunwales, and it was not long before it was ready for launching. On 3 May 1913 Kate wrote in her diary: ` .. got up to lunch and went with Maudie and Horace afterwards to South Perth to launch Horace and Roy's new yacht, when she was christened "Mercedes" by Maudie. Mrs Murray and Barbara entertained about 15 of them for the evening.' Much fitting and finishing was required, so the boat was not ready for sailing until November. Again, Kate's diary records: Saturday 15th November, 1913: . . . Daddy and I biked to the ferry and crossed to South Perth to see the boys launch the "Mercedes" from the Murray's - Daddy snapped it with his new camera, twice, tho' we got there a bit late, so Alan piggy- backed him to the boat to see the interior. Mrs Murray entertained 18 of them to tea afterwards, but Dad and I biked back.
The first sail in the Merc edes ^3 For an account of this meeting, see the entry for Vera.	Again, `Sunday 30th November: Horace took his primus and went for their 1st sail in the Mercedes in spite of thunderstorms still continuing.' It was not long after this, on December 13th, that Horace met Vera Glover^3, to whom he later became engaged on 9 February 1916. Two days after Christmas Kate records: `Daddy and I went to South Perth at tea time and took Mrs Murray a silver plated cake dish inscribed "Mercedes 1913", in return for all her kindness in having the yacht built at her place.' Two weeks earlier she had taken the cake dish into the jewellers, Levinsons, in Barrack Street, to have it engraved.
Horace buys a motor cycle and has a bad accident with it in 1914	On Friday 31st June, 1914, Horace bought himself a motorcycle, but his enjoyment of it was short-lived. Kate's diary for 5 September 1914 has the following entry: Horace had a dreadful accident whilst riding Vera home to tea at her place on his motorcycle, after she had won her rowing race, the shaft of a cart running into him, breaking three ribs, and injuring his lung. The ambulance took him to St.John of God's, Dad and I following in Dr. Timms motor car. The accident was reported in the daily paper as follows:
The accident was reported in the paper	Cycling Mishap at Subiaco. - Horace Rumble, a young man, met with a serious mishap at Subiaco on Saturday night. He was travelling along the Subiaco road on a motor tandem, in company with a young lady, when the machine collided with a fruit cart. Rumble was thrown violently to the roadway, as was also his companion. A medical man who was summoned, ordered his removal to the St. John of God Hospital, where examination showed that he had broken three ribs. The young lady was much more fortunate, incurring nothing more than a shock.
He recuperated at Woor ooloo sanatorium ^4 A popular form of paint A friend smashed the motor- cycle in April, 1915.	The next few days the family visited Horace in hospital and Maudie took flow ers to Vera, as she was in bed with slight concussion. Maudie also calcimined^4 Horace's bedroom, ready for his return home, which was not until October 5th. He then spent the last half of October recuperating at Woorooloo sanatorium. Horace continued to use his motor cycle, his mother's diary noting that on 1 March 1915 he took a friend, May, for a midnight ride in the moonlight to Nedlands. There is another diary entry for 17 April 1915: Horace's unlucky motorcycle totally smashed today while Lawrence was trying it, and gave the latter concussion, and smashed a motor car in St.G's Terrace.
War was declared in 1915. Horace enlists and enters Blackboy camp ^5 By this time his parents were stationed at Bunbury, where his father was PWD resident engineer	England declared war on Germany on 5 August 1915. On 15 May 1916, having enlisted, Horace entered Belmont and then Blackboy Camp and sent his mother in Bunbury `his letter case, watch and chain, links and land title to mind for him until he returns from the war.' On July the eighth he was selected for the N.C.O. school at Claremont. A month later he wrote to his mother that he had come seventh out of 103 on the course, and was now a Corporal. He returned to Blackboy camp, and later, with Vera, visited Bunbury^5 for a few days before being posted overseas. Promoted to Sergeant, Horace left Fremantle by ship on 10 October 1916. He served in the AIF's 16th Battalion.
He sailed for England in 1916 and visited his grand mother, Letitia, at Blackheath, London He met Lottie and Aunt Jenny ^6Granny = Letitia Charlotte Knight (13007F) - born 1834, ^7Lottie = Lottie Georgina Rumble (15001F) - born 1893, ^8Jenny = Lavinia Jane Knight (14013F) - born ?	Soon after he reached Britain he visited his Grandmother, Letitia, at Blackheath. From there he wrote home to his mother, Kate: 2 Vanbrugh Terrace, Blackheath, London, England. 10th Dec. 1916 I'm sitting down to write to you all the news in your old dining room, with my back to a comfortable fire. Granny^6, Lottie^7 and Aunt Jenny^8 having just gone to bed. We've all been sitting around the fire roasting chestnuts since supper. You do not know how much I wish you were here with me, but of course, you couldn't be, so I must tell you all about it. You have had my letter from Codford telling you all about my arrival in England. Well, we were fooled around a lot at Codford Camp which is a wretched hole compared with Blackboy Hill (West Australia) and then, last Friday, were told we were to have our four days leave from 6 a.m. Saturday morning. Of course everyone was very excited at the prospect of going to London, and Saturday morning saw us up at 4 a.m. amidst rain and mud. It was a dismal morning. However, we had breakfast, got our tickets issued to us - 3rd class, for which we had to pay 8/-, and then marched down to Codford station, about 2 miles. The train left at 7.45 with 400 men on board and the first and only stop happened to be Reading, the place where I was born. You can imagine how interested I was, but I only had time to go up and down the old platform, and then we were off again to London and finally ran into Paddington station. From here we were marched through Hyde Park gardens to the Australian Headquarters, Horseferry Road, Westminster. It was fairly late then, so I dug up a friend of mine W.O.Howard Eyles who I knew was on Staff there and he was very pleased to see me, and we both went and lunched together. After that the fun began when I started out from there, alone, for Blackheath. London is a big place, but how dirty and cramped after Australia it is. I got into Victoria Street, Westminster, which seemed to go on forever, got on motor buses and off again, and on to others - dozens and dozens, it seemed - and at last, when it was almost dark, arrived at Blackheath Railway Station, and from there, of course, it was plain sailing. I walked across the Heath and soon found myself walking up the steps past Granny's round garden, all of which was quite familiar to me from having seen the photo you have of your old home.
Granny and her house	It would be hard to describe my feelings when I was shown inside into your dining room. It just seemed as tho' I had known Granny all my life. Granny is still remarkably well for her age. We talked about a lot of things, Granny being quite alone except for the servants, and then Lottie who had been out came in and I was introduced to my cousin, and we had tea, and I put on Grandpa's slippers which fitted me like a glove, and we sat by the fire and talked some more until dinner time, which was at 7.30. Granny sat at the end of the table away from the window with Lottie on one side and I on the other. Just fancy how I felt sitting up to the table where you had sat, so many years ago. Granny has had the old fireplace taken out and a modern one put in, so as to throw more heat into the room, and after we finished we sat by this talking until 9.30 , which is Granny's bedtime now. Usually she and Lottie are by themselves and don't sit up late for, of course, at her age, Granny gets tired early. Having got up so early and had such a long day, I went to bed too, and had the front bedroom next to the bathroom. Granny has the room behind that, and Lottie has your old room. After that old troopship and the camp you can't imagine how nice it was to go to bed in that comfortable big bed in a suit of Uncle Henry's pyjamas - for I came up to London with no baggage.
Visiting Auntie Blanche (14008F) ^9 Postcard	Next morning after breakfast Lottie very kindly set out with me for Streatham Hill to see Auntie Blanche and everyone there, Lottie, the day before, having sent a p.c.^9 saying we were coming across. I don't know what I should have done without Lottie to guide me about. We trained from Blackheath to Cannon Street, and took buses for the balance of the way. London is full of motor buses now, and they whiz everywhere, but it is very hard to get a taxi owing to the war. I managed to get one from Cannon Street to the Commonwealth Bank where I went for more money. From there we had to take buses again to Wavertree road which runs off the road going right down to Brighton, I think.
and Auntie Grace (14006F), Auntie Mercy (14009F) also Thomas Rumble Also Thomas Wall, Uncle John ^10 If Thomas Rumble was 85 in 1916, he would have been born in 1831 or 1832. Re cords show that he was probably Thomas William Rumble (13003M), Harry Humfrey Rumble's Uncle, who was born on 26 Decem- ber 1832. Harry's grand- father, also Thomas Rum- ble, was born in 1791 and died in 1856. ^11 Robert Wall 14006M ^12 John Euean Rumble 14002M - born 1875	We got off at the corner and walked up to 46, which is only a few hundred yards up. There I met Auntie Grace, Auntie Blanche and Auntie Mercy, and everyone talked at once, and then, when we went into their sitting room, who do you think I met? - Pa's Uncle Tom^10 , or is it Pa's Great Uncle, I forget which now. He was a doctor. Just imagine meeting him. He is 85, and Auntie Blanche says he had only visited them once before and only came in quite casually that morning. He didn't stay very long and after he'd gone we all sat down to lunch, and after the meal Auntie Grace's husband^11 came home, and later on, Uncle John^12. It appears that Auntie Blanche had wired to him I was coming across, so you see what a family party we had. Everyone was so nice, and it was so nice to be among my very own relatives, and next time I come up I have to go and stay with them. Auntie Blanche looks so well and is so jolly, and Uncle John said he had a nice country place with six bedrooms and only used one of them, and anytime I liked to come across etc. etc. . . from which I gathered that the other five were at my disposal. Uncle John is, I think, a bit of a sport. He said he built the huts at our camp at Codford and said they were so badly done that he hoped he'd never have to sleep in them. He likes a joke, I think. Well, we all just had a good old talk. I told them all about Australia and our doings and the time simply flew. Then we had tea and at last we had to tear ourselves away as Granny expected us home to dinner. We got home frightfully late for dinner even then. London is awful to travel in now. I got hold of a taxi and the man flatly refused to go down to Blackheath, so we had to scramble around on buses again with no lights - for London is very dark now - all the street lamps having black painted over the glass except for a narrow strip at the bottom. When we got to Lewisham we gave up the buses as a bad job and took the train home to the next station and walked across the Heath.
Visit to the church of St.Germain, and also St. Paul's	This morning I got up and went across to your little church, St.Germain's, with Granny and Lottie and then after breakfast Lottie took me to St.Paul's. We had the same troub le with trains and buses. None ran to time, and missed half the service, but I was glad I went to see the old building. Isn't it black outside with smoke, and what a lot of pigeons there are on the pavement in front. I thought it looked so grand inside and had a good look at everything around the walls. We came home early to dinner, being Sunday, and I found Aunt Jenny had arrived in the meantime and she is staying the night. After dinner while Granny had a nap on the sofa in the dining room and Lottie took her Sunday school class, Aunt Jenny took me out for a walk in Greenwich Park. How familiar all these places must be to you. After tea Granny has been showing me all her curios in the drawing room, and she has such a lot, among them a plate you were painting and did not finish with an orchid and maidenhair fern in the centre. I haven't seen your other paintings yet but Granny is going to show them to me in the morning, also the nursery. Of course I have seen all around the garden which is so nice, and the holly bush outside the dining room window on which Granny hangs coconut for the dear little birds - there was a Robin there this morning. I wish I could just pick you up and whisk you across here without any sea journey. I know you would love to be with me to show me everything in your lovely home. Everyone is so good to me, and Lottie is such a bright little girl, altho' she is older than Maudie she is much smaller and weighs only 8 stone. Tomorrow she is going to take me up to Selfridges and to see some of the other big shops after which we will come home and then, alas, my all too short leave will be up, as I have to be back at Paddington for the 4.45 p.m. train."
Horace goes to France in 1917	Soon afterwards Horace was in France. On the 21 March 1917, he wrote home:
describes his billet	We came back to a little village on Saturday last, so we are in our long expected billets. It's not to last, tho' for we've just been told we move back again tomorrow, so it was hardly worthwhile the march down - It does seem quite strange to be in a quiet little village away from the sound of guns which practically never ceases along the line and the mud shell holes and desolation. We are quartered in a large stable or barn, and bunks made of wire netting run around the walls in three tiers. I secured a top bunk so am up amongst the rafters and cobwebs. I'm sitting there now with my muddy boots dangling over the top of the man's head immediately below, having just come home from some manoeuvres in the field this morning. We took our lunch with us, and after the morning's work, the cooks dispensed tea and we sat down on the stubble and had lunch out, with two brass bands playing popular airs. This afternoon a football match is on between our battalion and another.
and village	The Village itself is nothing much, very dirty. Most of the houses are empty and used as billets for the troops, when they come back for a rest. The two or three little shops remaining only sell odds and ends like eggs, candles, tinned fruits and fish cakes and chocolate which soldiers are generally on the look out for - of course there are plenty of establishments selling beer and wine, but apart from these the village boasts nothing.
Horace is wounded	Horace, while storming the Hindenberg Line in France, had part of his right hand blown off. With no stretcher-bearers in sight he had to stem the blood- flow, and bandage it the best way he could with a field dressing. On 22 May 1917 his mother wrote in her diary: `Newspaper reports our Horace as wounded and missing.' Then, on Monday, June 4th, she wrote:
news reaches home	A cable arrived from Rumble, London, that Horace was 'in hospital Z3605 Soltan, Hanover'. I biked to Dad's office at once and he rang Maudie at hospital and found Vera has had a Red Cross cable on Saturday that Horace was seriously wounded with slight tetanus. On 21 June, Kate received a letter from a friend of Horace's who said he had been `fighting beside Horace, and saw his hand or arm blown off, and he was lying in a German dug-out.'
He is reported as a Prisoner of War	On 10 July, Kate's Sister-in-law Grace sent her a cable: `Horace better June 5th. Wall.' The Bunbury paper published a small item: The friends of Mr. and Mrs Rumble, of Bunbury, will be pleased to hear that after the anxious days which they have spent in regard to the condition of their son, Sergeant Horace Rumble, who was reported to be wounded and a prisoner in Germany, they received a cable message this morning to the effect that he is much better. Sergt. H. Rumble is now a prisoner of war in the military hospital at Soltan, Hanover. In August both Vera and Kate received cards from Horace, written by a friend. Early in September, Vera received a letter from Horace, dated the thirtieth of May:
He writes to Vera seven weeks after his capture he contracted lock-jaw He reports that prisoners receive parcels sent to them	My darling Vera, It's just seven weeks today since I was captured and I am sitting up on the side of my bed having just finished my mid-day soup - trying to write you a little letter with my left hand. I am able to take little walks about the grounds now, Vera, but feel very weak yet, of course. I can open my teeth about half, too, but cannot masticate, so you see I'm coming on although, of course, it will be slowly. The Dr. says I'm very lucky as not more than 1 in 100 recover from lock-jaw. My hand is still discharging, but looks pretty good. It looks a funny old hand with only a thumb and half the palm. What a pity it was not my left, Vera, isn't it. Still, we have a lot to be thankful for - it's better than being killed - And how is everything with Vera - I do hope you have not been too worried over me and that the news that I was alive came very quickly after being reported missing. And now, Vera, I must stop, because they are collecting the letters, so Au Revoir sweetheart and may we soon be together again in good old Aust ralia. One thing, I am eligible for exchange. Love to your mother and everybody at home. . . The South West Times printed the following item: A QUESTION ANSWERED DO THEY GET THEIR PARCELS? "YES," SAYS SERGT. RUMBLE. A question agitating the minds of thousands of relatives of Allied soldier prisoners now in the hands of the Huns is: "Do your boys get the parcels that we send them periodically?" Sergt. Horace Rumble, the soldier son of the Engineer in charge of the Bunbury Harbour works, has answered it in the affirmative in letters received by his mother and other members of his family by the last mails. He is in a prison camp in Hanover, and, as the following excerpts from one of his letters (dated June 30) indicate, is now reduced to writing with his left hand, he having lost the right prior to capture. Mrs Rumble was kind enough to allow the "S.W.T." to publish these sentences from the latest letters with the idea of giving comfort to the hearts of other mothers who have often bitterly doubted the assertion that parcels addressed to prisoners of war usually got to hand. `To begin with,' the letter announces, `I received my first letters . . . three from my aunts, saying that they had received my first card and had sent all my messages to Australia. Also that they had arranged with the Red Cross Society to send me some parcels right away. The first two parcels came along this morning - one of clothing. In it were two each of such splendid shirts, socks, singlets, underpants, towel, handkerchiefs, and a safety razor, soap, shaving and tooth brushes, comb, housewife, and a strong canvas kit bag. The other contained two tins of milk, jar of malt, malted milk, Benger's food and Bovril. Although quite past the bedridden stage, and able to eat just as well as anyone else now, these things are all very nice . . . and I'm marking time on it (the parcel) very heavily. This week also my hand has taken a turn for the better, and will, I hope, heal up in a couple of weeks . . . I feel more pleased with it than I have done for weeks; hope it will keep on the mend. . . . We are having quite hot weather here at present, some of the days reminding me of Australian weather . . . It is very tiring writing with my left hand, so must pull up . . .'
Early 1918 he is repatriated to Britain, and writes home ^13 15016F	Early in 1918, Horace was exchanged with a German prisoner, and was repat riated to Britain. He then wrote home a series of letters. His mother, Kate, noted the receipt of each letter in her diary, but did not comment on their contents. Horace wrote over forty letters before returning home, extracts of a few being preserved by his youngest sister, Dorothy^13. These extracts are reproduced below: Australian Auxiliary Hospital Southall, 3rd February, 1918 You don't know what all your letters meant to me in Germany and how cheering they were. Being captured and remaining in close captivity all that time, especially during the first months when we suffered so much from our wounds, neglect and starvation, was beyond a joke, and when I see how German prisoners are being treated, I want to rush out and kill a few more of them to go on with. England is too slow. Every morning a party of German prisoners ride past our hospital, in motor wagons, if you please, to their day's work. Motor Wagons! The party of wounded I was with had to march back after being captured thro' a snowstorm some 6 or 7 miles to a village behind the German lines.
description of his capture	I felt alright but some of the poor chaps could hardly drag their legs. I had my arm tied up to my shoulder with a handkerchief wedged into the V formed at the elbow to try and stop the bleeding and, by the time I got there, I had a big blob of red snow covering my hand almost as big as a football. That night I sat on my steel helmet in a church with a lot of the wounded. The roof was broken and the place was drenching wet.
travelling in crowded railway trucks for four days	Next morning we marched several more miles to a railway station. Put in trucks here, but couldn't see out to get any idea where we were going. In the evening got out at another village and was put down in the cellar of a large house on some straw. We were packed like sardines but were so fagged out that we fell asleep at once and slept soundly until morning. Then back into the trucks again and we had to stay in those trucks, packed 40 or 50 in a truck with no room to lie on the floor and rest for the next four days! All that time I was bleeding, and so were most of the others. One poor chap died, and our wounds absolutely stank. We were wounded on the 11th, finished our journey about midnight on the 16th, and that was the way I went into Germany. The rest of our treatment was on a par, too, so is it any wonder that my blood fairly boils when I see unwounded Germans being gently driven to work in motor wagons. I've done with every German for the rest of my life, and only wish I had my right hand back again so I could go over to France again once more, and have another go at them. But it is no good wishing, and I suppose really I should be more than thankful that I'm alive. Here, of course, everything is lovely. A nice hospital, good spring beds, and good food again.
repatriated to Britain, he is invited to "Frascati's" for dinner	On Thursday next I have an invitation to early dinner at "Frascati's," I think it is in Oxford Street, and a theatre party afterwards - just a small party of we chaps back from Germany. I don't quite know who our hosts are, but the last little party had a splendid time. One Australian in it amused me over his account of the dinner. Frascati's is rather a nice place and he said he was so mixed up over the display of cutlery in front of him that he had to let the lady next to him start first to see what knives and forks etc. he had to use for the different courses. After that they went to see "The Better 'Ole", a play of Bairnsfather, and I hope to go to the same, for it is very amusing. The scenes are laid in France and the characters are just like those in Bairnsfather's "Fragments from France." London is a great place for amusement, even now in wartime there are about 50 different theatres going every night, and some days they give two performances each - all first class shows, too - There are plenty of invitations always going for wounded soldiers - theatre parties, dinners, afternoon teas at Windsor Castle, and all that sort of thing. I could easily go to 3 or 4 each week but prefer to take things quietly for a start, and devote a bit of time to taking up the lost threads of correspondence again. I have many letters to write, and it's not too fast with the wrong hand, tho' that doesn't worry me. I never worry enough, I'm afraid, but perhaps that has been an advantage to me, at least I mean I never worry over myself, for of course I felt pretty worried over all my dear ones when I knew "missing" had gone thro'. Wounds and Death are not so bad to the soldier himself in all the excitement and noise of the battle, all you girls at home, waiting so patiently and hoping and fearing, without being able to do anything, are the brave ones. My respect for women has increased a thousand fold over some of the things I've seen. 17th February 1918 This week has simply flown by because I've gone in for quite a lot of dissipation. My massage only takes up the morning, so I've been running into town with some of the boys to some of these invitation affairs for wounded soldiers.
Horace tries to get treatment for his hand in Britain	I think I told you in my last letter that I was having difficulty in getting treatment here. The Colonel wanted to pack me down to Weymouth to catch the first boat back to Australia and get my hand done there. He said he had instructions that only leg cases could be attended to here. Of course I said I was most anxious to be fitted here and kept at him all the week, also went to interview several of the artificial limb firms on my own account. The result is yesterday he told me I could stay here, so I am quite happy. I wanted to have it done here particularly. The longer the wrist is left the worse it will get. I could get a much better fitting in London than I could out there, and will have plenty of time to get used to it by the time I get back. So I can settle down here for a couple of months I suppose. It will take a good time to fix me, the wrist will move about an eighth of an inch so far, and it's a moderately painful job. Say I stay here two months, or make it another, then take two month's holiday - It will be May before I can possibly leave here, so that means July is the very earliest you can look for me to be somewhere near home. It seems quite a long way ahead, doesn't it, Mother, but it will soon pass and about a week after I get back no one will know I've been to the war at all, except me. I shall have a little souvenir to carry around for the rest of my life to remind me when I start to forget.
He is entertained by the Red Cross	On Tuesday the Red Cross took eleven of us from here to Drury Lane to see "Aladdin", the pantomime, and go to tea afterwards. It was a matinee, and I don't think it came up to our Australian panto's that Williamson produces. After tea the Red Cross finished with us, so we had the evening before us. Another chap and myself went to the Aldwych to see Julius Knight in a comedy entitled "The Mollusc," which was very good indeed. After that we had supper and as it always takes 1½ hours or so - the "so" is when there is an air raid on and it may mean any time - got back to the hospital at some unearthly hour. Thursday we (the same chap and myself) went in again, had afternoon tea at Anzac Buffet - no charge is made! and then asked if they had any theatre tickets to give away to a couple of deserving cases. They then supplied us with two 12/- front stall tickets for the Lyric and, in due course, after dinner paid for ourselves, we repaired there at 8 o'clock thro' the maze of theatres all round Shaftesbury Avenue and saw Doris Keane and Coy. in "Romance," rather a nice little play. Next day I went on the outing I had missed the previous week. About 100 of us went at 10 a.m. in private motor buses sent to fetch us to "Frascati's" in Oxford street. Got there 11.30 and Pathe Gazette's people took a film of us as we walked across the pavement outside. I managed to figure largely in the tail end of it as they stopped my pal - with a no-legged man on his back - and me right in front of the camera while several people shook hands with us.
he has a luncheon at "Frascati's" and goes to Bairnsfather's play: "The Better 'Ole"	At 12.30 sat down to a nice five course luncheon in a splendid banqueting room upstairs with music and vocal items to accompany us, and one or two speeches from our hosts. It was soon two o'clock and we all trotted in next door to the "Oxford" to see Capt. Bairnsfather's amusing play, "The Better 'Ole". You can picture what it's like when I tell you the characters are all taken from Bairnsfather's "Fragments from France". The afternoon soon passed and then we came back to "Frascati's" and had a very nice tea after which our buses came along and, amidst much cheering and cooeeing on our part, we whizzed thro' the traffic of Oxford street and out home, reaching there about 8, nice and early, so I turned into bed with Jerome K Jerome's "Idle thoughts for an Idle Fellow" and read till bedtime. It was a very good day and must have cost £200 or so, I should think, as soon as one sat down in Frascati's half a guinea would go down on the bill for a start. Yesterday I went to buy some clothes. After that I thought I might just as well see something or other to finish up the week, so had dinner in town and went to the Aldwych and saw "The Chocolates". Not a bad show at all, on similar lines to the Pierrott's, but better. I intended getting home before midnight if I could - never yet managed it after an evening in town - but it was not to be for, just as the show finished, my late hosts, the Huns, came over on another air raid.
There is an air-raid in London	I emerged from the theatre to hear the boom of the guns and people and buses with no lights rushing everywhere, as per usual. All the lights are out too and its pretty funny in the dark with all the motor buses tearing along without lights in a Saturday night crowd in the Strand. The civilians all dash about with the "wind up", as we say, trying to get into tubes, cellars and such places for shelter. I knew I had no chance of getting my tube home then, so I strolled about the streets and Trafalgar Square to see the fun, eventually to get the tube at Victoria and got home at 2 a.m. Up again 6.30! Not worthwhile going to bed at all. After a good sleep tonight I shall be ready for next week. There are sure to be plenty of theatre parties going for us chaps, for the moonlight has just started, and people keep away from theatreland for fear of the raids. They always come along as long as there is sufficient moon for them to see where to drop their bombs. I have one show ticked off for Wednesday next, also an afternoon trip to Windsor Castle and afternoon tea (with sugar) with Princess Alice on Tuesday. From the pictures I've seen Windsor must be very pretty and I'm looking forward to going over the castle. Altogether, this is better than Germany. 6th April, 1918
Description of fighting in France and of his capture	No one to look at me now, would recognise the starved and ill prisoner of war I was 10 months ago. I went very close to death then, only my pals who nursed me then know how bad I was, but a miss is as good as a mile, as I soon found out in France during the few months I was there before I came to grief - even in that short time I was under almost continuous fire from beginning of February till the 11th April, 1917. I had had so many close shaves that I got quite confident I should never get hit - it came as a great surprise when I did stop one, I can tell you. It was like a kick from a horse but, in the excitement of the moment - it was pretty hot work that morning, tho' we were fighting in the snow - I didn't mind the pain much and felt as good as gold. It was a great shock to me later on to get captured like I did without a ghost of a chance of escape. I felt down then, down and out, but wouldn't let the Germans see it. When we captured some of their wounded and unwounded too, just before, they cried like girls, so we cracked hardy and showed them how British wounded behaved. Most of us were going about bleeding and unattended for a week after being captured, but all they got out of us was good Australian cursing. They reckoned we were totally mad, I think.
Description of contracting Tetanus	About the 9th day tho' that tetanus came on me in a sudden paralytic sort of stroke and that was just about my finish. They were bad days for me after that, and no one seems to know how I pulled thro'. I shall never forget that nine months in German prisons, it seemed more like 9 years. It is impossible to describe to anyone who has not experienced it, the utterly helpless feeling that comes to a wretched prisoner of war, just the same as when people ask one "What's it like in France?"
The impossibility of telling people what it is like	It's quite impossible to answer them because there's nothing they've ever experienced that one can use by way of comparison. Only those who have actually been to the front can know what it is like.
night time in prison camp	I well remember the long hours of daylight last June, 1917, in Germany. It never seemed to get dark and we had no blinds in our huts to pull down. After the other boys had gone to sleep I would lie awake, and long for darkness. Of course, I was very bad then and never seemed to be able to get any sleep and, as my eyes were affected by the tetanus, the light was very trying. Outside the windows of our hut was a pine woods and I used to watch the sun's rays creep up these trees at night-time and then keep watching them thro' the long hours of the night until the rising sun next morning tinged the tree tops and then crept slowly down the straight stems. I used to judge time like that night after night without a wink of sleep - only pain and dirt and creeping lice and sores. It was rather pleasant, wasn't it. Never mind, here in England I can enjoy the lovely long evenings to my heart's content. The weather is beautiful and so is the whole country. Aren't the country roads just lovely. We drove between green hedges, with fields beyond, full of buttercups and daisies and cowslips here and there peeping thro' the trees. Quaint little cottages, and then, by the roadside, we would pass a little old tavern with its thatched roof and sign hanging from a post in front, with maybe 2 or 3 farm labourers sitting on a bench outside discussing a pint of ale. It all seemed so quiet and peaceful that one wondered if they ever knew there was a war on. Yet they do, for our driver has 3 sons soldiers, one even being a prisoner of war at present. April 1918
a letter written home one year after being wounded description of the day he was wounded.	It's exactly one year on Thursday since I was wounded. What a difference here to that eventful day. I can remember just as tho' it were only a fortnight ago how we snatched a couple of hours' sleep in the snow from 10 p.m. to midnight on the 10th. It only seemed as though we had just closed our eyes, to have to get up again. Yet that two hours sleep amid the bursting shells was wonderfully refreshing. All the same, as we brushed the sleep from our eyes, flung our equipment, packed in readiness with cartridges and food, on our backs and crammed some bombs into our pockets, we one and all cursed Fritz and, in the same breath, wished one another good luck. Stumbling through the battered and deserted village of Norienl(?) - now in the enemy hands again of course - which looked ghostly in the darkness, falling over bricks and mortar, and occasionally a dead Fritz, we came out on the open snow-covered ground beyond, across which other battalions on our left could just be made out, trudging wearily in single file towards our front lines.
waiting to go over the top	Fritz did not spot these long lines creeping onwards and tho' he kept sending in some shells for luck, in about half an hour we were all in our front line - an abandoned railway track sunk below the ground level - without sustaining any casualties. Then we got our final instructions, fixed our bayonets securely, filled the magazines of our rifles with cartridges and then "stood to". That was the worst part of it, that waiting until 4.30 a.m. with every nerve strained for the word to be up and over the top, when we knew all hell would be let loose.
the charge of the Fourth Brigade at Bullecourt	When I cut out of my thoughts those wretched months in Germany and think of myself just sitting back here comfortably in England, the charge of the 4th Brigade at Bullecourt seems only the other day instead of 12 months ago. Poor old 4th Brigade. It got cut to pieces that day, and now I hear - tho' they will have been all new men in it, practically since my day - the same Brigade has had a pretty bad time in the recent heavy fighting. I can hardly realise that all that ground I knew so well from behind Albert thro' to Bapomme and on to Bullecourt, is back in German hands. Anyhow they'll find out what a different game it is compared to what they are used to, to have to drag all their supplies over those battered battlefields as we had to do, to get to their present front line. Many, many years later, in 1989, reflecting on this still very vivid experience in France, Horace said:
^14The attack was at dawn, not dusk, as recalled by Horace in 1989.	We had taken the second line of trenches, but at dusk^14 Jerry counter-attacked and, after blasting a few more of us to pieces, took the rest of us prisoners. It was five days before a German doctor saw my mangled hand and by then it was black. Gangrene set in up to my elbow and, on top of that, I got tetanus. The prison camp doctors gave up on me. But a young German doctor, who was experimenting with tetanus treatment, used me as a guinea pig and stuck dozens of needles into me, and cured me." Horace was in central London on Armistice Day, 11 November 1918, and next day he wrote home to his mother about the excitement:
	12th November, 1918 At 11 a.m. yesterday morning the last shot in this long and terrible war was fired and directly the clock struck the hour, guns were fired, bells peeled and flags were displayed everywhere. People left off work and swarmed out into the street cheering and singing with joy. And in the City and in the West End the scenes were indescrib able.
Horace goes into central London on Armistice Day, 11 November 1918	I managed to get half way up Whitehall on top of a bus towards Trafalgar Square. It was a mass of buses, taxis, motor wagons, and people outside the War Office, and no one could move, everyone simply climbed over the tops of the different vehicles, using them as a sort of grandstand, from which vantage point they yelled and cheered, singing and waving flags. Our Australian Headquarters Band came around there too with a huge tin Rising Sun on a pole and a miscellaneous collection of Australian troops and girls all mixed up together, quite an impromptu affair, of course. When it got into the crowd at Whitehall, it broke up in disorder, some of the soldiers danced with the girls in the crowd, others got on top of buses with their musical instruments and made a horrible noise, one against the other.
he picks up Auntie Mercy so she can join in the fun	I thought I couldn't keep it all to myself so got off my bus and managed to get back somehow to Westminster where things were quieter. Here I got a bus back to Streatham and, after a hurried lunch, Auntie Mercy and I set off for town again. We got to Whitehall at last and there, profiting by my experience of the morning, I managed to get Auntie up on top of a bus. The block was not quite so bad now, as some of the buses were running down other streets, so that we were able to move slowly along thro' the crowd and see all the fun.
They got through dancing, singling crowds and into Trafalgar Square	We got at last through dancing, singing crowds into Trafalgar Square which was densely packed. Some of our officers were out on top of a taxi with top hats on. They did look ridiculous, had evidently lunched well if not wisely, and I wonder they didn't break their necks every time the taxi managed to move a yard or so. The last I saw of them, they had hauled some girls out of the crowd up there too. Army motor wagons seemed to be carrying anything up to a couple of hundred persons. A lot of Flying Officers jumped out of a building on to the top of one of these wagons and the roof fell right thro'. Men and women were riding on the engines of vehicles, mudguards and everywhere. One lot of medical students had a wagon with a skeleton sitting on the engine, one of the men sitting behind it, making it salute as they went along.
and then into Piccadilly Circus	We came at last to Piccadilly Circus. It was fearfully crowded here tho' it was now raining harder than ever. I wouldn't take a coat, so was just about wet thro'. Up Regent Street, signs of rejoicing were everywhere. On a bus near me was a solitary member of our band making horrible noises on a trombone. At Oxford Circus we got down and walked back the way we had come to Trafalgar Square and along the Strand. At Piccadilly Circus we couldn't move for a long time. I came through the crowd with Auntie hanging on to my arm and four girls I didn't know hanging on to my waist! They put their arms around me and simply let me drag them thro'. It was great fun! I passed one man holding a woman who had fainted and he couldn't do anything with her, as he hadn't a hope of getting anywhere. We got through at last and the parties I was towing disengaged themselves and then we had a pretty fair run to Trafalgar Square, where the crowd, in pouring rain and semi-darkness, were singing patriotic songs and dancing. The Strand was awful, and we couldn't get in anywhere for tea, so we got down the embankment and came home.
He never thought he would be in London to see the peace	I never thought I would be here to see Peace and am wondering whether my sailing for Australia will be delayed by it. They will require boats for all sorts of things now, and there are all our prisoners of war in Germany to come back at once. I wonder if all the chaps I left behind in Soltan have the good news. What a glad day it will be for them. Some had been there four years. I expect the overseas troops will be sent home as soon as possible, they were taken out of the line about a month ago, after a lot of heavy and continuous fighting, which left the Divisions pretty weak, altogether they've done just about their share. One thing, we shall be able to sail home now by the shortest route, probably via the Suez canal. There will be no dodging submarines, and we shall be able to have lights on the ship at night instead of being in total darkness for the first few weeks out of England. The war was over and Horace started thinking about returning home to Western Australia, and making further visits to his relatives. We have records of two more letters he wrote home before his departure: November 28th, 1918
He discovers he will be returning to Australia on the "Karoola"	On my return to the hospital I was able to get the name of the boat that I'm going home in, so that really is as if something is doing this time. It is the "Karoola" - one of our inter-state boats belonging to McIlwraith, McEacharn and Co. which we often saw in Fremantle. She is a very nice boat and since the war has been running as a hospital ship, so I should be very comfortable - provided, of course, that there are no more alterations. The only idea I can get of possible sailing is that the "Karoola" is the second next boat due to go and will go shortly after the first boat which may go first week in December.
he spent a day with Aunt Jenny and her boys Aubyn and Valentine ^15Aubyn = Courtney St.Aubyn Knight (15019M) - born April 1899. ^16Valentine = Valentine Anthony R. Knight (15017M) - born July 1892. ^17 Valentine = Valentine Elphinstone Knight (14013M) late husband of Jenny. He died in 1904.	Since I last wrote I went to spend the day with Aunt Jenny. Found Aubyn^15 her youngest boy home on ten days leave after being laid up with pneumonia. Though only about 19½ he is a very big boy. Valentine^16 (his brother) is quite slight in comparison, being a few inches shorter than I am and weighing 13 stone. He is very boyish tho' in his manner and seems to be still a schoolboy. He joined the army in November 1914 but had to serve all the time in England until he became 19 this year, when he went across to France. A few month's ago he was blown up by a shell but this has left no injuries and since then he has been in various hospitals in France with colds etc., ending up with pneumonia, which got him over here. Under the existing conditions I don't know if he will have to go back to France when his sick leave is up. I expect there are enough troops there already to clear things up. Thousands of our prisoners are coming back from Germany almost daily but I have not heard of any yet from Soltan or the other camps far back in Germany. Most of them are from near the frontiers. It is rather amusing, the attitude of the Soldier's Council and workers in Germany now towards our prisoners. In some camps before setting our men free they addressed whining appeals to our men to let the people of England know they never wanted this war and were our brothers! etc. etc. Addressing our prisoners as "Gentlemen"! In my time it was "Schiseinlund", which in English is "Pig-dog", and such like gentle terms. How they change their tune when they are beaten. But they were just the same in the field. While they were behind a machine gun and could mow you down like dogs, they'd blaze away, but once you get in on them close with cold steel and a few bombs, they'd howl "Kamerad" pretty quickly. I'd know the way to treat all their appeals now. At Xmas week the Food Controller is allowing everyone a quarter of a pound extra sugar each, also a double meat ration and turkeys, and birds without coupons at all." London 6th December, 1918 I went over to Aunt Jenny's again last Sunday as I heard Tony D'Arcy, a friend of Valentine's^17, from Sydney who belonged to the A.I.F., was captured last April and had just got back from the hands of the Germans, was to be there. He proved to be a very nice gentlemanly fellow and I enjoyed meeting him, in fact, Aunt Jenny and her friends were amused at the way in which we two ex-prisoners of war put our heads together and compared notes. D'Arcy had some interesting tales to tell. He was unwounded when captured so was kept working behind the German lines and had a pretty rough time. Fortunately he didn't have a winter to go thro' there, but during the seven months of his captivity he never received one parcel of food, or any clothing from here - the Germans would never deliver any parcels to the men they kept behind the lines. A fever broke out among them, which D'Arcy got, but he recovered and was put back to work again then, with about 150 others. On the Wednesday after the signing of the Armistice their German guards simply walked off and left them, so they escaped from their prison, split up into parties of twos and threes and walked back to the British lines, meeting all along the road German soldiers fleeing back towards Germany, who took no notice of them whatever. In their weakened condition they were not able to make good progress, but after four long tramps during which the Belgian people fed them, they came into contact with the advancing British armies, who attended to their wants and told them to remain with them a few days and they would be sent back. However, D'Arcy and his companion - another Australian - decided not to wait for the workings of the red tape methods of the army but slipped off, and riding on army motor wagons and French trains, got down to Calais on their own brook where they easily got on one of the troopships running from that port to Dover, and came up to London - Two of the first Australians to get back since the signing of the Armistice. The Australian Headquarters fitted them out with new uniforms, pay, and 32 days leave, so now they're going to enjoy a well-earned holiday.
Kate receives news of Horace's expected return 13 December 1918: Departure on the Karoola	Back in Western Australia the family wondered when Horace would return. On October 26th, 1918, his mother received a cable: `Not Leaving Yet.' The Karoola did not leave Southampton until Friday 13 December 1918. This ship was a twin-screw steamer, 430 feet long, with gross tonnage of 7391 tons. She was proud to be fitted with `a Wireless Telegraph System.' Built in 1909, she plied the West Australian coast until she became a hospital ship during the war. When she left England in December 1918, she had on board a full complement of patients: 27 officers and 406 other ranks. On the homeward voyage to Australia, two patients died and were buried at sea.
Horace kept a diary while on board. Leaving Southampton	Horace kept a small diary of this voyage. His entry for the day of departure included: After many goodbyes at the No.2. Aust. Aux. Hosp. Southall, & amidst the sobs of all the girls we left behind us on the railway station, our hospital train drew out for Southampton about 1.30 p.m. Had a slow journey down & a light meal on the train, arriving alongside the "Karoola" at Southampton about 4 p.m. Ship looked very well, having just been repainted. . . Winches above are very noisy getting our kits on board. Don't know when we shall sail - there are a few more stretcher cases to come on board & then it is rumoured we shall leave. . . . Fearfully hot down below - we're on the second 'tween deck. If it's as hot as this down below in port in England in the month of December, what's it going to be like in the tropics?
Christmas Eve: Pt Said Christmas Day and The Suez Canal	Every day, Horace recorded the distance travelled, and bemoaned the slowness of the journey. On Christmas Eve they reached Port Said. Horace recorded: In Port Said. Ran in this morning just after breakfast - a few miles out from shore, passing the masts of two sunken torpedoed steamers which had apparently run into shoal water before going down. Interested in the statue of De Lesseps on the Western breakwater at entrance to harbor, also a homeward bound troopship just leaving harbor. Dropped anchor inside in the stream a few hundred yards from the shore and casino. Ship immediately surrounded by Gypos in bumboats selling oranges and cheap souvenirs for which they were asking about ten times the fair price. No leave to go ashore granted, but from what I could see, Port Said is not much of a place, tho' the water-front is not bad, being laid out somewhat like a parade with decent square buildings on one side & small boat landings on the other. The Suez Canal offices at one end of this parade very fine looking building. On opposite side of harbor is the 4th Aust.Genl. Hosp. containing 1400 beds. Some of the staff came on board. Commenced coaling from barges alongside just after midday - the niggers carrying baskets of coal on their shoulders & tipping them in quick succession thro' doors in the ship's side into the bunkers. Coaling thro' the rest of the day & evening - believe it will continue thro' the night & we shall commence our journey thro' the canal some time during the morning. Can hardly realise that tomorrow is Xmas day. Wednesday 25 Dec 18 Xmas Day! Beautiful day. In Port Said until about 5 p.m. Ship in a fearfully dirty state & everyone covered in coal dust. Took several photos from the ship. Each patient on board received a parcel from Aust. Red X, containing tobacco, chocolate, raisins and jam. Xmas dinner at 1 p.m. Very good for the army. Roast pork and duck after soup, plum pudding and fruit. Left Port Said about 5.30 p.m. & entered the Suez canal with a canal pilot & two canal boats on board & a large searchlight in our bows which shone ahead on either bank. Just before turning in passed Cantara Camp on the banks of the canal brilliantly lighted up. Spoke to some men of the Norfolk Regt. & exchanged the season's compliments. Were to have had a concert this evening but all the artists somehow got colds (?) during the day so it had to be postponed. Ship going very slowly - think we will take about seventeen hours getting thro' the canal. On January 14th, he noted:
Wireless messages received from Applecross. ^18The Applecross Wireless station in Perth was built by the Germans in 1912. Now long gone, the area is known as `Wireless Hill Park'	Our wireless picked up the first messages from Australia today when we got news from Applecross^18. The run at noon was the best yet since leaving Port Said - 296 miles, making the total distance to date 7920 miles. It's absolutely gorgeous in the moonlight on deck tonight - makes me think of the girls we left behind us in old Blighty. When I think of them I always recall the familiar song: "I wonder who's kissing her now "I wonder who's telling her how "I wonder who's looking into her eyes "Breathing sighs, telling lies, "I wonder who's buying the wine "For lips that I used to call mine "I wonder if she ever tells him of me "I wonder who's kissing her now." A lot of truth in that!
Nearing the West Australian coast.	Soon they neared the West Australian coast. On Monday the twentieth of January Horace `sent off two wireless messages in the morning - one to Mother in Bunbury & other to Vera in Perth to say we should arrive in Fremantle on Wednesday.' On the day before, he had written in his diary: The sea begins to look to me as tho' we're getting near the coast of Australia. This will be my last Sunday on board & I have been sitting on deck wondering where I shall be next Sunday & what I shall be doing. Only three more nights to sleep on board! I can't think how it is I am taking this homeward voyage so casually. There were times when I used to look forward to the time when I should be on the boat for home, especially when I was in Germany as a prisoner of war & hadn't the faintest idea when the fortune of war would release me. Then, this trip seemed ever so far off - but now that it has really come I find that I'm taking it just as casually & calmly as all my other movements from place to place in the army. Perhaps when I sight our old coastline it will be different & I shall realise all it means to me. The day's run was very poor again - only 249 miles, making the total run 9,185 miles. He recorded the last entry in the diary on Wednesday 22 January 1919:
Arrival at Fremantle	The cable rattling thro' the hawser pipes about 2.30 a.m. awoke me with a start - I was sleeping on deck as usual - the ship was perfectly still in marked contrast to the heaving and rolling motion she was subjected to when I went to sleep. Sitting up and looking across the port rail I could see the familiar lights of Fremantle & the dim outline of the two moles I had sailed out of in the old troopship "Suffolk" just two years, three months and twelve days ago to I knew not what adventures in the Great War - and many varied and unexpected - especially the latter have been. But I have no time to think of those now. Lying so close to land has caused a heavy dew to fall on deck. All my bed clothes are wet thro'. So hastily gathering them together & bestowing an affectionate look out to sea at the old Rottnest lighthouse, I descended to the well deck & turned in to sleep on a seat there till daybreak. Slept like a log until almost 8 o'clock when an orderly awoke me & said he thought I would have been up looking at Fremantle hours ago! Breakfasted - had a very careful shave! Handed in all my hospital clothing for good & got into my uniform which felt pretty hot for the Austn. climate we were in again. Then went on deck to join the crowd there - thirty seven of us were for Western Australia and we had a busy time going the round saying goodbye to all the friends we had made on the voyage out who were bound for the longer journey to the East. Several vessels were anchored out in Gage Roads waiting for medical examination to permit them to enter port. We could see the doctor's launch visiting boat after boat and became very impatient at having to be just about the last boat visited. However, he came on board at last, inspected all those on board and passed us as a "clean ship" - up came the anchor & we headed slowly in for the harbor. As we came inside & drew in towards the quay which was crowded with people, whistles blew & a band of welcome struck up familiar airs. Many were the conjectures as to who would be among the crowd to meet us & as the boat drew in & the boys could pick out their own particular relatives & friends, many were the greetings shouted across the ever narrowing strip of water & great were the wavings of hats & handkerchiefs. Quite early I picked out the group waiting to welcome me - chief among whom of course were Mother, Vera and Maudie all looking just the same as of old, but a much more joyous group than the small group of two that saw me off in Oct 1916. I don't know what we were all shouting at one another. I only know I expected the girls to fall in the harbor every minute, they seemed so excited. However, the boat is alongside at last & the gangway down - in a few short minutes I shall be ashore with those I hold most dear to me & who have waited so patiently for this day of days. So, in packing away my diary in my kit in readiness to leave the good ship which has been our ocean home for the last five weeks or so - it is fitting that I should bring it to a conclusion also. To attempt to chronicle the further doings & sayings (especially the latter) of today will, I know, be quite beyond me. Also recorded in this diary is the following poem written by a fellow member of the 16th Battalion 4th Brigade: The Charge of the 4th Brigade at Bullecourt on 11 April 17 You boasted a wall of granite strength Which nothing on earth could break The skill you learnt in forty years You defied us blokes to take. Four thousand men from the Southern Seas In war but infants yet They swept grey eyed from a sunken road And thro' your barbed wire swept. No guns to aid - no barrage long To sweep the wire away But a headlong charge of a thousand yards And the dark blues paved the way. A time of hell thro' machine gun fire Right thro' a death swept zone They charged as only Australians can And the tanks were well at home. The first line thro' - the second held They fought as strong men do Hindenburg's Line with its vaunted strength Was smashed by an Anzac crew. No bombs to throw - No guns to speak Nothing but lives to sell And the fourth brigade like a quivering wave Swept thro' this infernal hell. Officers this way - the men come here The Hun O.C. called out But the men hung back as men will do They broke - & a few got thro'. There's a tale to tell in History Its large in the scroll of fame Of a charge they made in the Crimea Balaclava is its name. But the charge we knew & the charge we made Never from our minds can fade God speed the day we'll avenge these boys Who fell with the Fourth Brigade. While Horace was writing his diary on board the Karoola, the family at home was becoming excited. Firm news of the ship's arrival was not received until Saturday, 18 January 1919 when, at 9.15 am, Vera rang up Chad's, the little store next door to the Rumble's house in White Road, Bunbury, to say that Horace was coming to Fremantle on the "Karoola" on Monday. In her diary Kate recorded: I was breakfasting in bed, but I quickly got dressed, half-packed, then biked to Dad's office to tell him. Caught the 2.40 (train) to Perth. . . Maudie and Vera met me at the Station.
There was a notice in the paper about the returning soldiers	The following notice appeared in the paper: RETURNING SOLDIERS The following have been listed for return to Australia, and are actually en-route from abroad. No further information can be supplied excepting the approximate time of arrival which will be published in the Press shortly before disembarkation. This list is as cabled, and is open to correction on account of mutilations in cabling, and other causes. `Rumble,H.' was in the list that followed. Kate wrote that on Monday, Vera received a `wireless' from Horace to say `Arriving Wednesday,' and the following notice appeared in Tuesday's paper: KAROOLA AND BURMA MOVEMENTS The troopship Somali is due to arrive at Fremantle this morning with 108 Western Australians who, it is definitely stated, will undergo a period of isolation in quarantine. The hospital ship Karoola is due to arrive early tomorrow morning and the patients re turning to this state will disembark at 9 a.m. The Burma contingent numbering 65 will be landed at about 10 a.m. tomorrow.
A friend of Vera's in the Water Supply Office writes a poem for Horace's return	Vera worked at the Water Supply Office, and a friend in that office wrote her a poem: He is coming! He is coming, Oh, my heart the words are humming Thro' mine ears I feel them drumming Since I heard the joyous news I must be calmer - cooler Ere I meet the ship Karoola Ere I meet my future ruler (I'll obey him - when I choose) He's arriving - He's arriving To calm myself I'm striving As towards the sea I'm driving To clasp him in my arms And then in words laconic "Farewell Bells Telephonic" The Big Bells Matrimonic Will have much greater charms.
The family takes the train to Fremantle to meet the boat	On Wednesday the twenty-second, Kate wrote in her diary: Mrs Glover, Vera, Maudie and self caught the 6 a.m. train to Fremantle to meet the `Karoola', were on the wharf at 7, saw the doctor go out in the launch to overhaul her at 7.30, so we walked back into town to get breakfast. Returned at 8.30 & sat on wharf till 9.30 then watched the boat slowly steam into the harbour and presently come quite opposite to us, till within speaking distance. Mrs Glover was first to see Holl who was looking at us thru field glasses. As the boat came alongside we went round to E shed where they were to be received. . . Vera's friend Mrs Beadle got her in there first, and afterwards myself, & thru her we got away thru a side door with Horace, who looked in splendid health & bigger than ever! to a hired car Eric had procured, as he and Humfrey had come down by a later train - so we all piled in and drove to the Base, where they only detained him 20 minutes. . . .
Back in Bunbury, they hold a "Welcome Home" supper	On Thursday, Vera obtained leave from the Water Supply, and they all travelled back to Bunbury. Friends gathered at the house on Saturday for a "Welcome Home" supper, cooked by Phyllis, toasted the hero, and all sang "For He's a Jolly Good Fellow." Horace brought presents with him from family members in England, including a collection of 45 miniature jugs for Kate from her sister- in-law Blanche. Kate immediately posted a parcel back to Blanche containing all the dry ingredients to make a cake in honour of Horace's safe return from the war. g
Horace plans for his wedding and buys a house in Nedlands ^19 Jean Warren 16005F ^20 Bob Rumble 16006M	Horace returned to Perth and plans were soon afoot for his wedding. Before the war Horace had bought a block of land in Pangbourne Street, Wembley, probably with the intention of building there. However, his plans changed. In 1991 his daughter Jean^19 explained: Before the First World War Dad had a motorbike. Often he and mum went to the Nedlands swimming baths at the river end of Broadway. They noticed a house being built in Broadway. It was the only house there, and it stood out. They admired it each time they drove past. When Dad came back from the war he noticed that it was for sale. So he bought it, and sold the block in Pangbourne street. In 1991 his son Bob^20 recalled that Horace had seen this house initially on an earlier occasion. He said: Before Dad went overseas in the First World War he trained at Blackboy camp. On one route march they came down Broadway to the Esplanade opposite the Nedlands hotel. At that stage No. 75 Broadway was being built, and Dad noticed it. He was impressed by it and thought it looked a fine place. It was later that he took Vera to see it. The family came up from Bunbury a few days before the wedding and stayed at a boarding house in Colin Street. The day before the wedding, Horace took his mother to Nedlands by tram to see the house he had bought at 75 Broadway.
The wedding notice is placed in the paper	The following notice was placed in the daily paper: RUMBLE - GLOVER - On Friday February 26, 1919, at St.Mary's Church, Colin Street, West Perth, by the Rev.G.H.Holland, Horace, eldest son of Mr. and Mrs. H. Humfrey Rumble, of Bunbury, to Vera Louise, third daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Arthur W. Glover, of Subiaco. The wedding was held in the evening. Kate wrote in her diary:
Kate described the Wedding	We all went across (to the church, opposite) at 7.20. Doll & I waited at the door for Mrs Glover, then for the two bridesmaids (Elsie Glover & our Maudie) after which we left them at the porch to await the bride & went to the front seat. Vera was very little late, & came up the aisle on Mr. Johnson's arm, looking very sweet in a short girlish frock of crepe de chine & georgette & silver edging. The Church was full. When the bride, etc. went into the vestry, Mrs Glover and I went home in the bridesmaid's car to receive the bridal couple first and then the guests. The feast was laid on the lawn, a three tier wedding cake on the bridal table, at which Mrs Glover and I sat one at each end. The Rev. Mr Holland was present, who married them, and made a most complimentary speech. The high hedge guarding the lawn and the verandah were decorated with flags, ferns, and electric fairy lamps. The large dining table was placed in the drawing room with all the wedding presents on show, both numerous and costly. Vera's Auntie Laing came from the "Home of Peace" and at 9.30 Bert Dawson took her back in his car, returning for the bride and groom, taking them amidst many cheers & kerosene tins, also many farewell kisses, to the "Savoy" hotel.
Horace and his children	Horace worked all his life for National Mutual Company in Perth, starting as office boy, and retiring as assistant manager. During the Second World War so many of the office staff were away in the Armed Services, that Horace carried a heavy work load, often working until very late at night, returning home from work by taxi, as it was past the hour of the last tram service. Often he felt that he ran the office single-handed. His daughter Jean said that she doubted whether he greatly enjoyed his work as he had said he had always wanted to be an architect. Presumably his parents had insufficient means to let him pursue this course. Throughout his life he was always drawing plans of boats and houses.
^21 DUPLEX UNIT = Two houses joined with a common wall The House in Broadway	He and Vera had four children: Jean (b.1920), Robert (Bob)(b.1922), Peter (b.1925) and Nancy (b.1928). Horace and Vera lived in their Nedlands home until well after retirement, when finally they moved to a duplex^21 unit at 3 Stevens Road, Daglish. Their Broadway house looked large because it had wide verandahs, but initially it was basically a one bedroom house with a lounge room, dining room and kitchen. The original bathroom had been converted to a very tiny second bedroom and still showed the signs of the original pipes. In 1991 his daughter Jean said:
^22 A chip bath-heater was a simple water-heater using old newspapers or small wood chips as fuel. It was mounted at the end of the bath and fed the bath, and sometimes the shower.	The bathroom was now up in the back yard. Right on the back fence there was the toilet, then the laundry and then the bathroom, all side-by-side. It had a cold shower only, and a chip bath heater^22. Mum used to take us up there and bath us, wrap us round in a towel and carry us down in front of the fire in the winter time." As the number of children grew, there was pressure on living space. Horace enclosed part of the verandah as a "sleepout". This was a very common method at that time of gaining extra space in a small house. The children slept in the sleepout or on the verandah. When their fourth child was due, Horace built an extra room at the back. In 1991, Jean recalled this: Dad built a little room, about ten feet by ten feet, at the back, just before Nancy was born in 1928. He decided that mum should have a live-in housekeeper. There was a boat arriving from England with some housekeepers on it who had completed a course in England. Dad arranged for one of these girls, Margaret, to become our housekeeper. She lived in this small room for eighteen months before she married and left. We had various live-in maids, always when mum was sick, and we had people come to do the washing and ironing for us. The house was under pressure even when the family grew up. Jean established a hair-dressing business and operated from home. A partition was erected in the sleepout for this. After the Second World War there was an acute housing shortage. Sons Bob and Peter married and, for a period, both couples lived at their parents' home. g
Yachting interests with the Royal Perth Yacht Club	Throughout his life Horace was a keen yachtsman, sailing the "Mercedes" with the Royal Perth Yacht Club until well after retirement. He did not sell "Mercedes" until he was eighty-eight years of age. He was particularly well known and respected amongst the yachting fraternity of Perth and won over one-hundred yachting trophies. As an early example of his activities, he sailed the Mercedes down to Mandurah in 1920 and then, on the tenth of April took part in an ocean race. This was reported in the Perth paper:
A 1920 Ocean race	R.P.Y.C. OCEAN RACE The last race of the season took place on Saturday afternoon, when the sailing craft of the Royal Perth Yacht Club competed over an ocean course for a cup presented by Mr. S.H. Leggatt, most of the boats being towed to the Port by the motor boat owners. The fleet, consisting of 11 starters, was sent away at 3.15 p.m. under ideal sea-going conditions. The course was from the mole, round Hall's bank; thence to Penguin Buoy, at Rottnest; continuing with windward work to Kingston Buoy, and finishing at Rottnest between Penguin Buoy and a mark boat. The racing was excellent, and all the craft carried extras on the long run to Rottnest. One of the back markers - Mercedes - put up the best performance, and finished first at 6.33.35 closely followed by Genevieve at 6.34.15 . . . . The visiting club members were provided with an excellent supper at the hostel during the evening, and a musical programme was carried out, the commodore presiding. . . The outing was probably one of the most successful sailing events yet held by the "Royals", . . . The boats returned to their moorings without mishap on Sunday. Following the second world war, Horace's son Peter joined his father as a crew member of the Mercedes on racing days, and sailed with him for twenty-five years. In 1991, Peter recalled this racing period:
Racing with the Mercedes: The crew ^23 15016M The grog	The Mercedes had a pretty happy crew: six crew was an ideal number for an average day but, in heavy weather, seven or eight helped to stabilise the boat. She was a good old heavy-weather boat. She was never a good performer in the light weather, not by more modern standards. But in the good old days, when most of the boats were of the same type - the old plumb stem and stern, centre board, gaffe rigged boat - she was more or less competitive with the others. As modern boats came along in the years after the second world war, they were much smarter in the light weather. Much smarter. But, for some reason, the old Mercedes could always hold her own in the heavy weather. Fortunately we did not have a big turn-over of crew. Horace's brother-in-law, Vic Fall^23, was the sheet-hand at one stage - while Dick Lovegrove, an ex-footballer, also did the sheet-work sometimes. We had Cecil Abbott, a dentist, who did not want to rip his hands too much, so he did the menial tasks. We always had a barman. Dear old Ray Axon was the first barman in my time. Ray was pretty useless in the boat. He didn't know what made them work, and he wasn't quite with it, so he had the job of looking after the booze and pouring the drinks at the appropriate time. Later on, Owen Atkinson became our barman. A lovely bloke. Would do anything for you, but was useless as a sailor. Another person who added character to the crew was Bill McGillivray - a booze artist, a womaniser and a real, rough-nut. Bill was an entirely different fellow from Horace, who was so staid, but Bill stuck with the Mercedes right through pretty well to the end of Horace's career. He helped drink a lot of the grog. He never poured much, but he drank a lot of it. We had a big ice-box on board that I made for the boat. We would take half a dozen beers out every Saturday and knock them off as we went around the course. But, we did not drink from the word go. The common rule was that when you're tacking up- wind, you haven't got time to drink, because of go-abouts, and the fact that the boat is heeling at a pretty difficult angle sometimes. But as soon as you got round the top mark, which was brick-landing buoy in the Swan River, it was a matter of getting the spinnaker up and heading down the track. The old Mercedes was very stable and very comfortable. She didn't roll. She didn't have any vices. Then you could bring your beer out, and the barman of the day would pour drinks all round. We would have a good old swig coming down-wind. Of course, when you got down the bottom mark, you'd have to down spinnaker and head off up-wind again. So there was no drinking up-wind. That was about the extent of the drinking. But, as I said, we got pretty thirsty, working up-wind. It may seem as though we emphasised the drink, but it never detracted from our performance. Some people - the modern sailors - say, `Oh, you can't have booze on the boat.' But let's face it, the old Mercedes was a trend setter and set the pace at the club for many years.
^24 Top Class, Leader	As the yacht club grew, they divided the fleet into two divisions: Division I and a Division II. Some of the more modern, larger boats comprised Division I. But in Division II, Mercedes was a Gun^24 Boat. She was still the boat with which many people compared their performances. If you could match it with Mercedes, you were doing well. Many a boat came into the club and was tuned up gradually to improve perform ance. Slowly they came closer and closer to us. We won many races because we had a good boat, the skipper had a ton of experience, and we had a stable, well-trained crew: every man knew his job. We all sought after the trophies: the Felix Levinson trophy on Opening Day, the Governor's Cup, and the Winterbottom Cup at Rottnest, and many others. But, the poor old Mercedes, she'd been in so many of these events, and the one that eluded her for so long was the Governor's Cup. I think that, when Dad eventually won it in 1962, he said, "That's my forty-fourth time, trying for the Governor's Cup." He dearly wanted to win it because it was the one to win. In addition to races in the river, off-shore races were also scheduled. Peter described these events:
Off-shore races A typical race on a fresh day	Sometimes we sailed down to Rockingham, through the South Passage, out the back of Garden Island to Rottnest. Sometimes we would come down the coast to Scarborough, and then beat back a bit to the Kwinana channel entrance, and back to Leighton, and across to Rottnest. Many of these races finished at Rottnest because there you could relax then for the rest of the weekend. A typical race started at Rottnest in Thomson's Bay and went in a triangular course, going North towards Roe Reef, then back Sou'west towards Kingston Reef - a buoy was put out there in the form of a moored dinghy, and then another leg into Rottnest, which made it a triangular course. This was a two-lap, triangular course - usually sailed in pretty good breezes because they were always held on a Sunday afternoon of a long weekend and, starting in the afternoon, the sea breeze would have always settled in, and was usually roaring right around about start time. On this particular day it was blowing quite strongly in the morning. The race didn't start until afternoon and by that time it was really piping up. We knew that the old Mercedes would love it. We needed some extra weight aboard, so we picked up a couple of extra fellows from the island to add to the crew. It was a handicap race and we were one of the back markers, with Thera, sailed by Bill Lucas, as the back-marker. By the end of the first lap we had caught up most of the boats ahead of us, and Thera had not made as much ground on us as we expected. Some of the other boats were in trouble with the conditions, and we thought we would have a comfortable win. But even we had our moments. We kept the pumps going as we were taking a lot of water over the side - mainly spray - but also burying the bow into green ones, and chucking water over ourselves. Well, of course, what gets chucked in you've got to chuck out. I remember being down on the lee side of the boat where most of the bilge water had formed, heaving it over the side with a bucket. Thera gained on us during the run out to Roe reef, and the reach from there to Kingston buoy. We sailed the boat as hard as we could, pumping and bailing, and grinding into that wind as hard as we could. We crossed the line, a comfortable winner over Thera. Later, Bill Lucas quipped: `The weather was that fresh that I'm yelling out to my crew, "Ease the sheet! Ease the sheet!", and there I can hear old Horace calling to his crew, "Pull that sheet in! Pull that sheet in!"' We were all very pleased with that race because the boat really did sail well. Not all ocean-races were as exciting as that. Most were much more relaxing than river- races because you had much longer legs; there wasn't such a flurry to do all the work, and you could sit back and relax. Once again, we usually took a good supply of beer. When my brother Bob was sailing, he and his friend Bill McGillivray seemed to get thirstier than everybody else. They suggested that we opened the ice-box more frequently. When the race finished at Rottnest there was always more socialising on the island.
Interest in Football	Yachting was Horace's main interest and he sailed until he was in his eighties. However, he and Vera always enjoyed watching a football match and, from the 1930s he was a Claremont follower. When his son Peter took up football, Horace's interest increased. Jean said: Peter played first for Perth for a year, and then went to Claremont. Dad became a very bigoted, one-eyed Claremont supporter. But he stopped going to the football as soon as it was time to do up the boat ready for the yachting season. So it was really the boat that was his life.
Family boating activities For details, see entries for Horace's children.	The family also enjoyed the boat. Family holidays were centred on it. Sometimes his brother Eric, who also owned a boat, joined them and the two families took a holiday at Penguin Island near Rockingham. Rottnest Island, twelve miles off the coast, was also a popular spot. Sometimes they took the boat over to Rottnest and hired a bungalow on the shore.
70th Wedding Anniversary 100th Birthday, and his death in 1989	In 1989, Horace and Vera celebrated their 70th wedding anniversary. Shortly afterwards he celebrated his 100th birthday. On that day, there was a constant flow of family and friends in and out of his house. The television cameras came and, later, an entire contingent of older members of the Royal Perth Yacht Club arrived, complete with the Club barman, who brought in many bottles of champagne so that the club members could toast the "Old Salt" who had shared the river with them for so many years. g Not long after this, it became too difficult for them to maintain their own home. In October 1989 they both moved into Concorde Nursing Home, South Perth. He had been there only a short time when he died at 8.30 in the morning on Friday 1 December 1989. Throughout his life Horace was a man of great bearing. He stood tall and straight, even when greeting visitors on his one hundredth birthday. Although he spent his life in Australia, he remained British in outlook. He was very patriotic and each year he marched in the ANZAC day parade. As Nancy recalled: He took part in the parades until he could no longer walk very well. They marched down the centre of the city. I liked to go down by Riverside Drive where they took the salute. He invariably looked quite an outstanding character. When he marched by, I always called out, `Good on you, Dad.' and he would always raise his hat to me. Like many people of character, there were different sides to Horace. As a young unmarried man he played a central, cohesive role in family activities and celebrations. He was very close to his mother and did much to help her, particularly when his father had periods of drunkenness. He placed all women on a pedestal. He could be fine, upstanding, strong, strict and proper. He could be a boy with the boys when sailing, and could tell as good a story as the next man. He could be arrogant and sarcastic and, at times, snobbish. He was meticu lous in everything he did, and both expected, and demanded the same of others. He believed it wrong to pry too closely into other people's affairs, even when those people might be family members in need.

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066A15010AFGLOVERVERA LOUISE05-08(22. 3.1894)

	era, the third child of Arthur Glover and Louisa Mary Shayer, was born on 22 March 1894. She had older sisters Gladys and Elsie, and a younger sister, Mavis. As a child she lived in Brisbane Street, Perth. After leaving school, Vera wanted to be a nurse, but her father opposed this. So she started work as a telephonist in the Water Supply office. On 26 February 1919 she married Horace Rumble, and they had four children: Jean, Robert, Peter and Nancy. She died on 3 October 1992. g
Vera describes how she met Horace ^1 To the Eastern States of Australia	In 1989 Vera recalled how she met Horace: I can tell you how I met Hol. In fact, I can tell you the very spot where I met him. It was the 13 December 1913. Roy, with whom I worked in the office used to tell me about a boat he and his boyfriend were building. He brought in photos and showed it to me. One day he said: `When the boat's finished, Miss Glover, will you come out for a sail?' I was nineteen then, and I said, `If my mother will allow me to.' - Fancy that, at nineteen years of age! I went home and mother said, `Oh no, It's so dangerous, I don't think so.' Anyway, she came around, and finally said I could go out, so, on the thirteenth of December my sister Elsie was going East^1 and, in those days, a State ship used to leave Fremantle on the tick of twelve every Saturday. So I went to see her off, then rushed off and caught a train to Perth, and a boat over to South Perth. I had to go over to this boy's place in Melville Waters - that's where the boat was built - and after I met his family, he said: `Well I suppose we had better get a move on, the skipper will be waiting for us.' So off we went. We were standing in about six inches of water and there was this tall, handsome young man, in a pair of white shorts and a polo necked jumper - and that's how it started.
Her engagement Illness Children's doubts about her illnesses	Kate Rumble recorded in her diary that they became engaged on February 8th, 1916. In her early married life, Vera had much illness. Kate Rumble recorded that, in 1923, Vera had an internal abscess. She was admitted to St. John of God hospital on 13 September, and was operated on four times between the 14 September and the 29 October on which date she had another "appendical abscess" removed. She spent ten weeks in the hospital and by 28 November was convalescing in her mother's home. All her life she spoke of her illnesses to her children, but they found this hard to believe, as she was such an active and seemingly fit person. Her daughter Jean said: She was always very active. She sailed with Dad and did a lot of swimming. Before she had us children, she and Dad would anchor the boat at Point Walter. From there they would swim to Attadale jetty and back. That jetty has long been removed, but it was quite a swim. In her single days she and her sisters belonged to the Perth Rowing Club. Often she walked. As far as we children were concerned, she seemed perfectly healthy, but she got the idea that she was dying. I've been hearing that she's dying ever since I was in primary school, yet she outlasted Horace - and he lived to one hundred. She has had many things wrong with her, but I can't help feeling that many of them were imaginary or exaggerated: She said she had a bad heart, but did not. Once, she put herself to bed for six weeks. Another time she spent one day a week in bed to rest her heart. As a teenager she did have rheumatic fever twice. First when she was fourteen, and then when she was seventeen. It was said that this often led to a weak heart, and my mother was convinced of this. When Dad retired, they made a trip to England, and he took her to a Harley Street Specialist, but he could find nothing wrong. During her life she had several major operations, but we children were convinced that they were neither `major', nor necessary. Dad spoilt her by sending her on recuperative holidays and by employing a maid, so there was always someone to do the washing and the ironing, as she was supposed to be so frail. We children found this hard to believe as she could walk for miles and miles - and swim. Nonetheless we were afraid that we might be left without a mother, to be brought up by a wicked step-mother. As children, we were brought up a strong diet of fairy stories, and we knew that all step-mothers were wicked. Dad had a great respect for women, and placed them on a pedestal. They were something to be looked after, and waited on. He gave Vera housekeeping money and a dress allowance but said she must not be worried by things like rates, electricity bills, or things like that. In later years she said she had emphysema. I took her to a specialist, but there was nothing the matter with her lungs. Another time she had a hiatus hernia, for which there is no cure - but she does not have it now. At one time her doctor told me not to go along with all her supposed illnesses.
Her passion for Bridge	Vera developed a very early interest in the game of Bridge. She had several bridge groups. Some met in the afternoons, and some at night. She had a book in which she wrote her bridge commitments. She played at Inglewood and Mt.Lawley. She belonged to the Perth Bridge Club but resigned when the players made so much noise she could not concentrate. Jean recalled: Bridge was her main lifelong interest, but we children took a dim view of it. We only had a lounge room, so we had to go to bed at seven-thirty when the bridge players came. When I was fourteen we had our first radio, and we were not allowed to have it on if there was a bridge party in the house. Nor could we make any noise that might break their concentration. We all vowed that we would never play bridge.
She was a good mother to her children	In spite of this, Vera was a good mother to her children. She was always there for them or, if she was out, she made sure there was somebody there for them when they returned from school. Jean said: We were never neglected. She sewed our clothes and gave us beautiful birthday parties. She was a good cook. Vera's son, Peter, remembered that even as a small boy he thought that his mum was always ill. Horace, he recalled, was very attentive, and arranged a series of live-in maids to help her. There was Margaret, who came from England, and then there was a plump, pleasant Winnie Neiling. Vera got on well with some maids but not with others. Peter recalled: Mum did not get on well with a lot of people. She was never very tolerant of other people. . . Her disposition was quite different from that of her mother's. My grandmother never complained about anything and always had a good word for people, whereas my mother was the opposite. Mum had lots of complaints.. She came from a household of girls, and she and her sister Elsie were very jealous of each other. They were for ever having a shot at each other. Peter agreed that when it came to looking after the family and providing for it, his mother did a good job. She sailed the Mercedes in Lady Skipper's races and joined in all the family boating activities: Mum fitted in very well with the boating, packing up clothing and food. I've got to take my hat off to her for that, because it gave us so much pleasure as a family. She was tolerant of our friends and welcomed them in to the household. . .
Retirement	Vera and Horace lived for many years at 75 Broadway but eventually moved to a duplex in Daglish. There, they celebrated both their seventieth wedding anniversary and Horace's one hundredth birthday. Shortly after this, in October 1989 she and Horace moved into Concorde Nursing Home in Como. Horace died six weeks later on 1 December 1989. In 1992, after a period of ill-health and hospitalisation, Vera died on the afternoon of 3 October.

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004A15011AM RUMBLE ERIC 09-10(14. 1.1891)

Summary ^1Birth Record: The entry in the English Civil Registration from 1837 Index states: Rumble, Eric, Mar 1891, Reading, 2c 342a.

ric, the second child of Harry Rumble & Kate Knight, was born in England on 14 January 1891^1. Shortly after this, his parents migrated to Australia and then moved to Western Australia in 1897. He was educated in Fremantle and in Perth. Leaving school, he worked for Goode, Durrant and Murray but, by the end of 1921, had established his own business as a manufacturer's representative. This business grew into a pharmaceutical agency and eventually became Rumbles Limited - an enterprise in which his two sons played considerable part. In 1915 he married Isabel Anderson and had two sons, James (b.1917) and Ross (b.1919). Around 1930, this marriage failed and later he and Isabel separated. Eric formed a relationship with Lydia Bassett and had three daughters, Elsa (b.1931), Robin (b.1937) and Penelope (b.1942). He had two major recreational interests: sailing and stamp collecting. Some years after retirement, he was killed in a motor car accident in Perth in 1965. g

Early life Starting work ^2Lacrosse: See entry for Eric's brother Horace (15010AM)

Little is known of Eric's childhood. As a youth he played Lacrosse^2 for some years, this being mentioned in his mother's diaries in 1911 and as late as 1922. Unfortunately volumes of the diary before 1911 are not available. After leaving school he joined the firm of Goode, Durrant and Murray as a representative. There he met Isabel Anderson who was more than eleven years his senior. His mother wrote in her diary on Sunday 10 November, 1912: