Sub-Lieutenant Richard PIRRIE MiD
 The
eldest son of six children, Richard “Dick” Pirrie was born
in the Melbourne suburb of Hawthorn in 1920 and was studying
law when the war broke out. He grew up two streets
from Glenferrie Oval, a member of a family footballing
dynasty which continues to this day.
Dick Pirrie played three games on a wing for Hawthorn,
including at least one alongside his brother Kevin.
Kevin returned from the war emaciated and diseased, but went
on to play more games for Hawthorn. Kevin was said to
be inspired by his older brother’s example, in what is
described by his son Michael as a role of a remaining
brother-in-arms. Kevin applied a strict discipline and
military-style fitness in an approach later popularised by
Hawthorn coach John Kennedy. Their father also played
for Hawthorn.
Their uncle Mick McGuire, was thought to be the youngest
ever player in the VFL (15) until Essendon’s Tim Watson
bested him by a few months three generations later.
Throughout life, McGuire kept a photo of his fallen nephew
on his desk at home.
Dick's nephew, Kevin’s son Stephen, played for Richmond, St
Kilda and Essendon. Ned Moyle, the son of Dick
Pirrie’s niece, now plays for the Gold Coast Suns.
Dick gave up his promising football career with the Hawthorn
Football Club when he enlisted in the Royal Australian Navy
Volunteer Reserve as an able seaman and subsequently being
promoted to sub-Lieutenant. He was later seconded to
the Royal Navy aboard HMS Invicta.
On 5 June 1944, Sub-Lieutenant Richard Pirrie sat down to
write a letter to his family.
“My dearest Mother, Dad, and boys,” he began.
“Well, my dears, the pressure is on now and as soon as the
weather improves we sail for the greatest event in the
history of the world.
“By the time you receive this you will surely have heard
some of the bare details. This is the greatest Armada that
ever was formed. A colossal feat of organisation; the
product of years of planning and hard work.
“Yesterday morning our chaplain came aboard and with the
soldiers, Canadians, we received General Absolution. If
anything happens, it is just the will of the Sacred Heart. I
will leave this, and hope and trust in God that I will
conclude in a few days.”
Pirrie never finished the letter.
The following day, 6th June 1944, he was the first
Australian to be killed on D-Day.
Tasked with spotting German gun positions, Pirrie was part
of the first wave of landing craft to reach Juno Beach
during the Allied invasion of Normandy.
Known to his British crewmates as “Digger”, Pirrie had the
dangerous job of piloting his craft close to the beach so
that he could relay information to a naval artillery
observer where to direct gunfire onto the German defences.
He had performed a similar task during the invasion of
Sicily the year before, but this time disaster struck.
Pirrie and two others were killed instantly when his landing
craft struck a mine and was simultaneously hit by enemy
shell-fire close to the shore. In the words of his
nephew,
"he got so close to the German strongholds that he became a
sitting duck".
But the Pirrie family was later told that the low subsequent
casualty rate along that stretch of beach was attributable
to the bravery and skill of their lost son.
Allied landing craft underway
to the beaches of Normandy. Universal History Archive/UIG
via Getty Images
His boat, amid scenes depicted in the opening sequence of
Saving Private Ryan, was hit by a mine or enemy shell.
He was killed instantly.
Pirrie had been a school prefect who sang in the church
choir. When on service leave in London, Dick was known
for his renditions of Waltzing Matilda. A lone Aussie
placed with Canadians and Brits, he was nicknamed "Digger".
Sydney Daily Mirror
- 29th June 1944
Australian Hero Died On
D-Day
(From ROBERT RAYMOND, Daily Mirror War Correspondent on
H.M.S. Invicta, off Normandy.)
THIS is the story of Dick ("Digger") Pirrie, Australian
Sub-Lieutenant, of Melbourne, who gave his life while doing
his share to make the invasion of Normandy a success.
Few could have played a braver or cooler part than "Digger,"
who went ahead of the invasion forces with an artillery
spotting officer to within 1000 yards of the beaches, in
broad daylight, to range our invasion bombardment.
Typical RAN Man
Dick's close-cropped black beard and satanic grin were
widely known among the little ships of the Royal Navy.
He was typical of the many R.A.N. men over this side of the
Channel today.
I can tell you about him, because he was from this ship and
while we waited for D-day I learned to know him.
When we anchored just off the beaches of France in early
daylight on D-day, "Digger" and his major climbed into a
little motor-boat, which turned its nose towards the shore.
Behind it, hundreds of ships were marshalled for the great
assault.
Before leaving, "Digger" came up on the bridge and swore
blisteringly at the weather, which was making the sea
choppy, but when I leaned from the bridge and waved him off,
he grinned and cocked an impudent beard at the enemy.
A thousand, yards from the shore, almost close enough to
look down the barrels of the German coastal battries,
"Digger" heaved to — and stayed there while the major
spotted ranging shots for the artillery which was to give
powerful short-range support to the Canadian spearhead from
our ship by means of Canadian 105mm. self-propelled guns
fired from Landing craft.
Hit By Enemy Shell
The major quickly radioed his batteries, which soon were
throwing stuff over as fast as the crews could load.
But as the barrage really was getting going, "Digger's"
little craft, lying in full view of the enemy batteries,
caught a direct hit from an 88mm. shell which killed him and
the major and most of the crew.
So died a gallant Australian, one of many who carried out
heroic duties in the bloody initial stages of history's
greatest invasion.
Before the war, Dick Pirrie worked in the Commonwealth Audit
Office at Melbourne. He joined the R.A.N, in 1941 as an
ordinary seaman and soon was posted with a group of A.B.'s
to the armed merchant cruiser Ceramic.
He went to Britain the same year and spent most of his sea
life aboard destroyers, including the Quentin.
"I sculled around Russia for a while and then, when
commissioned in 1942, I started running convoys to Malta,"
he told me.
"During the invasion of Sicily I started this new job of
taking an artillery spotter close inshore. My cobber
and I swapped craft the night before the assault.
"My former craft caught a direct hit from an 88 mm. and my
cobber lost a foot and an eye. I never saw anything come
back from this show."
While crossing the Channel on D-Day, "Digger" told me about
crowds of Australians he had trained and sailed with and who
were now up to their necks in it along the Normandy coast.
Other Aussies There
For example, there was Lieutenant Commander Appleton,
R.A.N.V.R., of Sydney, second in command of a division of
tank landing craft. He nursed this branch of the
service from the very beginning of the great assault.
Our "picnic trip" across the Channel in the Invicta
was perhaps partly due to the efforts of Sub-Lieutenant
Bruce Ashton, R.A.N.V.R., of Sydney, who volunteered for
secret work; Sub-Lieutenant Dave Wood, R.A.N.V.R., of
Melbourne, where his father is said to be a well-known
veterinary surgeon — his brother was with Squadron 10
Coastal Command (Australian Sunderlands) and is now on his
way home: Sub-Lieutenant Ken Wright. R.A.N.V.R., ex-bank
clerk, of Adelaide, commanding an infantry landing ship
carrying 100 men.
Then there was Lieutenant Johnny White, R.A.N.V.R., of
Geelong, who commanded tank landing craft; Lieutenant
Neville Yuille, R.A.N.V.R., of Adelaide, engineer aboard a
big troopship, and scores of others.
Everywhere one looked during the Invasion there was evidence
of Antipodean participation in the magnificent amphibious
operation.
Just ahead of us on D-Day was H.M.S. Monowai,
former armed merchant-ship in the Pacific. It has a
New Zealand skipper and several Australian engineers.
Every officer on this ship knows Sydney, Melbourne, Adelaide
and Brisbane almost as well as he knows Liverpool or
Southampton.
Remembrance of Australia was heightened on that, grim but
glorious day by my friendship with "Digger" Pirrie.
"Digger" often showed me his boat. He had rigged up
formidable armament aboard his tiny craft. There were
two heavy machine-guns and a four-inch mortar in the cockpit
beside him, not to mention an assortment of smaller weapons.
"I'll have a good crack at the cows," he shouted, as he went
in to the shore on D-Day.
"Digger" never had a chance, but the Canadians fighting
ashore today know what he did — and won't forget.
A fellow officer, Lieutenant Tom Longford, wrote to Pirrie’s
mother to express his deepest sympathy.
Pirrie, he wrote, had performed his duty “so courageously
and efficiently” that “on our portion of the beach not one
of our troops failed to get safely ashore”.
“The whole flotilla is deeply grieved by the loss of so
deeply loved and much respected friend,” he wrote. “His
friendly nature, cheerful, willing devotion to all his
duties, and his firm belief in the ultimate good of all
things made him an officer with whom we are all proud to
have served.”
Today, Pirrie’s name is commemorated on the Plymouth Naval
Memorial, which lists the names of 15,993 sailors of the
British Commonwealth who were lost at sea.
For his “Gallantry, leadership and determination” Pirrie was
posthumously 'Mentioned in Dispatches'. He had
performed his task with “great skill and his conduct and
bearing greatly encouraged his men”.
On that day, D-DAY - 6th June 1944 - was Richard
Pirrie's 24th birthday.
LEST WE FORGET
Sources:
Australian War Memorial
Melbourne Herald-Sun
Trove / Daily Mirror
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