Stone Town was about to witness the shortest war in recorded history. The conflict lasted from 38 to 45 minutes depending on the source and was preceded by messaging between Khalid bin Barghash and Basil Cave:

“We have no intention of hauling down our flag and we do not believe you would open fire on us” — said Khalid bin Barghash in his message to the Consul.

“We do not want to open fire, but unless you do as you are told we shall certainly do so” — replied British Consul Basil Cave.

Khalid bin Barghash barricaded himself and his forces in the palace. Captain Saleh from the palace guard placed artillery and machine guns at the British ships. As soon as the ultimatum expired at 09:00, the heavy bombardment with high explosive shells started at 9.02. In just minutes the Royal Navy forces unleashed a massive attack: 500 shells, 4,100 machine-gun rounds, and 1000 rifle rounds were shot at the Royal Palace and Harem.

The defending artillery was disabled, HSS Glasgow was annihilated by the return fire from HMS St. George, and the palace was destroyed. At approximately 9.37 to 9.45 AM Khalid bin Barghash surrendered. Sultan's forces suffered 500 casualties in contrast to only one British sailor accidentally injured. The disparity between casualty numbers is not surprising. Some Zanzibari defenders rode into battle on bicycles.

Depicts two soldiers, one ducking and crouching to the ground in the wake of a shell burst behind him, while the other remains upright and walking. Both men are carrying full kits and wear expressions of horror and fear.

Will Dyson was the first Australian official war artist to visit the front during the First World War, travelling to France in December 1916, remaining there until May 1917, making records of the Australian involvement in the war. He was formally appointed as an official war artist, attached to the AIF, in May 1917, working in France and London throughout the war. His commission was terminated in March 1920.

. This image was reproduced in 'Australia at War: Drawings at the Front'(London, 1918, p.45) with the following caption; '....The fatalist is born not made. The growing strain of the game is not producing more fatalists if ducking under shell fire is a proof of an absence of fatalism. For many who never ducked are now ducking, whether from wisdom or war strain they are taking this instinctive precaution...he can't prevent the 'whiz-bangs' and the 'five-nines' but he can defy them... As though he were to say 'If you are going to hit me, you swine, you will hit me, but you can't stop me calling you a bastard while you are doing it'. '

For the title of this painting the artist chose the text of the signal from HMAS Sydney to HMS Minotaur announcing victory in the Royal Australian Navy's first fight. As the convoy carrying the first Australian and New Zealand troops overseas passed within eighty kilometers of the Cocos Islands, a signal was received reporting a strange warship approaching the cable station there. HMAS Sydney was immediately detached from her escort duties with the convoy and sped off towards the islands, encountering the German raider cruiser SMS Emden. In the engagement that followed the Sydney sustained some early damage and casualties, but the fire so battered and crippled the German ship that Captain von Muller ran the Emden ashore on North Keeling Island

On 30th November 1854 miners at Ballarat in the colony of Victoria swore allegiance to the Southern Cross flag at Bakery Hill and built a fort at the nearby Eureka diggings. They were disgruntled with the way the colonial government was administering the goldfields.

Peter Lalor, (leader of the rebels and depicted above in the painting wearing blue trousers brandishing pistol), made this declaration;

“It is my duty now to swear you in, and to take with you the oath to be faithful to the Southern Cross. Now hear me with attention. The man who, after this solemn oath does not stand by our standard, is a coward at heart … We swear by the Southern Cross to stand truly by each other, and fight to defend our rights and liberties.”

Early on the morning of Sunday 3 December 1854, when the stockade was only lightly guarded, colonial government troops including British Army and Victorian Police attacked. At least 22 miners and five soldiers were killed. The rebellion was ended although reforms were instituted in its wake.

The dense, moist jungle of New Guinea created an entirely new set of conditions for Hele. The terrain was all but impenetrable, with vegetation covering the landscape and creating a canopy of perpetual semi-darkness. As the only mode of transport was often on foot, Hele was allotted a bearer to carry materials and guide him through the jungle. The adverse conditions gave Hele the opportunity to experience first-hand the arduous movements and activities of the Australian troops. Accompanying the soldiers in the thick of dangerous territory, Hele often sketched within a few metres of the Japanese enemy waiting to attack.

In Walking wounded, Missim Trail, Hele paints the injured soldiers struggling through the jungle, their camouflage clothes blending into the dark browns, greens and greys of the vegetation. There is no indication of sunlight in this lush growth. The men appear exhausted and gaunt and resemble one of the exaggerated figures in paintings by William Dobell (1899-1970).

The Missim Trail was a narrow, slushy track that wound up and over precipitous mountains, a track considered worse than the Kokoda Trail. In Hele’s paintings from New Guinea the brilliant light of North Africa has vanished. The men barely emerge from the jungle; their path is unclear, and their feet are hidden by the thick undergrowth. Hele adopts a more painterly style, lessening the technical draughtsman appearance of earlier works

Both as a soldier and an artist, Ivor Hele felt a great sense of empathy for the "ordinary" men in the field. This work captures on canvas the physical and mental exhaustion of troops who have coped with endless marching, extreme temperature fluctuations between day and night, dust storms and lack of sleep. The bodies and uniforms piled on top of one another tells much about the weariness of war. The pink and mauve hues adopted by Hele for his North Africa paintings are sensuous and warm but amid these desert colours some of the human forms appear deathly. Hele's painting explores the notions of sleep and death, as being almost one and the same for men who are past feeling, overcome by fatigue that is beyond imagination.

On 1 November, off Coronel on the coast of Chile in the southern Pacific, the Royal Navy suffered its worst defeat in over a century. S Pawley was an officer in HMS Glasgow – which, although damaged, managed to survive the battle.

“We formed into battle line ahead with the Otranto on our port side at some distance and steamed north. It was not very long before smoke appeared on the horizon and we soon discovered this smoke came from two German heavy cruisers. And we were able to recognise Scharnhorst and Gneisenau. We were not long in closing on the enemy and soon the battle commenced. The Good Hope opened fire, a ranging shot, which fell short and then the battle became general. I was standing on the upper deck at the time; the sea was very rough under a leaden sky. At times the waves came clean overboard, came clean in over. We were hit in several places. One of our mess decks was flooded; the captain’s cabin was wrecked; the signalman’s arm was blown off in the foretop; holes were knocked in the coal bunkers and we were in a generally poor condition.”

Two British armoured cruisers – the Good Hope and the Monmouth – were sunk by a superior German force, led by Admiral von Spee. A. Bushkin witnessed the loss of the Monmouth from aboard HMS Otranto.

“The Good Hope, a shell must have hit the magazine – she blew up. The Monmouthsoon afterwards also blew up. Just before that, their guns – although they were sinking – their guns were firing and those men were carrying out their action stations right until the very last. There’s a darkening sky; there’s a leaden sea; the weather is getting gradually worse. And we were steaming south getting away out of it, our thoughts mixed, very mixed. Cursing because we couldn’t get to our pals to help them; glad to get away out of it. What could we do? Nothing, just nothing.”

The Good Hope and Monmouth were both lost with all hands, the sea conditions contributing to making rescue attempts of survivors impossible. One of the 1,600 British sailors who died in the Battle of Coronel was the brother of newly-enlisted soldier, Joseph Murray. He remembered how this news affected him.

“My brother Tom was a reservist and he was on special reserve which meant that he did a month’s training every year instead of a week. Now on the 1st of November they were sank off Coronel which is on the other side of America. Now up until then I was very patriotic, and after getting to know that I was out for blood! And I swore blind that I’d kill every so and so that I could – and I did! I was out for revenge. So patriotism turned to hate.”