Curio

State Library of New South Wales

Diary with pressed poppy, 21 September 1915 – 18 July 1918

Manuscript and pressed poppy

Purchased from GTC McClintock, 1919

MLMSS 2783 Item 3


Fragile and faded, a lasting memorial

One of the most iconic symbols of the Great War is the red poppy. Scarlet corn poppies (Papaver rhoeas) grow naturally throughout Western Europe, particularly in fields where earth has been churned up. The land around the Western Front, ripped open from four years of devastating war, provided ideal conditions for poppies to grow across abandoned battlefields. These wild, deep red flowers came to symbolise the sacrifice of those who died in the War. Australian soldier, George McClintock kept a poppy pressed within the pages of his diary. 


George Thomas McClintock

By Elise Edmonds, 2015

George Thomas McClintock enlisted to serve in the AIF at the age of 21 in September 1914. He was a boundary rider from Parramatta and left Australia in December 1914 on board the troop transport, A38 Ulysses. He served in the Australian Army Medical Corps, attached to the 13th Battalion, 4th Division. He later transferred to the 17th Battalion, in November 1917. McClintock served at Gallipoli in 1915, Malta in 1916, France in June 1916 and Belgium in November 1917. He was wounded at Gallipoli 26 August 1915 and again 8 September 1915. In early 1918 he transferred to the infantry. He returned to Australia on the ship, Kasir-a-Hind, 24 September 1918.


In Flanders Fields

It was Canadian surgeon Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae who wrote about the poppy in the famous World War I poem In Flanders Fields;

In Flanders fields the poppies blow Between the crosses, row on row, That mark our place; and in the sky The larks, still bravely singing, fly Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow, Loved and were loved, and now we lie In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe: To you from failing hands we throw The torch; be yours to hold it high. If ye break faith with us who die We shall not sleep, though poppies grow In Flanders fields.