THE LIFE OF BILL WHYATT (from W.A. Whyatt’s Chess Problems, by Bob Meadley, 1979) The Whyatt family had long been involved in the building industry. Bill’s grandfather, Joseph Whyatt (married Elizabeth Smith) was a brickmaker as was Bill’s father, William A Whyatt (18831964). Bill’s father, who had come from Margaret Town NSW, married Jane (Jean) McMillan (1888-1969) at St Thomas’ Church, South Wellington, New Zealand on 2 June 1909. Jean’s father, Archibald McMillan, was a carpenter. William and Jean had 3 children, Frederick Joseph, Marjorie and William Alfred (Bill). Bill was the youngest of the 3 children, being born in Brisbane, Queensland on 4 February 1914. He was educated in Brisbane and attended Brisbane State High School. His best friend, Leo McCarthy, has described Bill’s early life: “Bill and I were very close friends and as teenagers and young men we lived in the same suburb, played cricket, tennis, table tennis and cards together, shared racegoing, books, films, etc. We were known to relations and friends as ‘The Twins’ … Between 1926 and 1940 we met almost daily. Bill was a highly intelligent man but the chemistry which produced this intelligence also conferred him into a very shy introverted man who found it extremely difficult to communicate with most people. I doubt if Bill ever had a girl friend, he often came over to our home but when any girls were present became tongue-tied and shy. I fancy the Whyatt family were shy people, I used to visit their home daily, but can’t recall any other boys being there. We were both shy introverts and gradually spent more and more time together solving problems, discussing books, films etc. He was a tremendous if unorthodox student – for instance he rarely did any homework and if taking a dislike to any teacher he would proceed to be almost last in his class during the year and then, in the final term exam, come top.” He sat for the Senior Public Examination in 1932 and obtained a very good pass: English-B, French-C, Mathematics A-C, Mathematics B-B, Chemistry-A, Physics-B. He was the only student to gain an A in Chemistry at the High School. This pass entitled him to matriculate to the University of Queensland but he did not enrol. Leo McCarthy: “After doing his Senior he contemplated being a teacher but was rejected for some reason – I forget which; possibly slight deafness, speech defect or something similar.” Early in the 1930’s he went to work as a burner in the Newmarket Brickworks where his father, the Manager of Brisbane Brick and Building Supplies P/L had reluctantly given him a job. “It was during this period,” says Leo, “that he started to become interested in chess. The night shift always seemed to give some extra time which he used to solve chess problems. I feel it was a great pity that Bill did not mix more on leaving college. A Burner’s job is a lonely one, sometimes hardly a soul would be met during a shift. I felt that I would never be a reasonable chess player unless I was able to devote more time than I could possibly spare and by this time our bookshop and coin interests left little spare time. These differences never affected our friendship in any way, and I can not remember the semblance of a quarrel although many topics were strenuously debated.” Bill loved cricket, animals and enjoyed going to the races. Leo: “After a number of successful punts he bought a racehorse, High Toby, with which he won two races at Albion Park. With one of these wins the horse started at 100-1. One of the longest priced horses ever to win on this course.” When war came Bill enlisted in Brisbane on 29 July 1940 in the A.I.F. Due to his academic qualifications, the enlisting officer protested at Bill’s request to be a stretcher bearer but he was

taken in, in that role. He was posted to the Australian Army Medical Corps on 4 March 1941 and arrived in the Middle East on 31 July. He was posted to the 2/3rd Field Ambulance which was a Queensland Unit formed at Redbank in November 1939 and which later moved to southern States. During 1941 it served in the siege of Tobruk, 1942 – the battle of El Alamein, 1943 – the Huon Peninsula campaign in New Guinea and at Morotai and Labuan in 1945. Bill served with the 2/3rd for the duration of the war. He had a lucky escape in Alexandria where he was blown off a ship in the harbour but not seriously hurt. He returned to Australia on 27 February 1943 and arrived in New Guinea on 6 August. Leo McCarthy: “Bill had several close shaves during army service, the closest he told me was in New Guinea. He had dysentery and in consequence was visiting the toilet very frequently, moments after leaving on one occasion, the toilet was demolished by Jap machine gun fire. He had a keen sense of humour and could always laugh at himself.” He returned on leave to Australia on 10 March 1944 and was posted to Morotai Island in the Moluccas, arriving there on 1 May 1945. He served there and at Labuan Island near Brunei in North West Borneo until his final return to Australia on 21 November 1945 and discharge on 22 December. During the war Bill’s parents had shifted to Merrylands, Sydney, where his father had been appointed Manager of the Brickworks – Walker Benson P/L. This was in Betts Road, Merrylands, and the family lived in the Manager’s cottage at the works. After the war Bill moved there to live with his parents. Leo: “We corresponded during the war and on Bill’s return we used to exchange letters each week and take it in turns to buy an Opera House lottery ticket … Mr and Mrs Whyatt senior used to return to Brisbane each year for a holiday but Bill would never come. Once when I urged him to visit us, he told me he became so sick of travel during the war that he never intended to journey away again. Bill and I kept up our friendship for over 50 years.” Bill made few friends at Benson’s. One good friend he did make though was Wally Rochester, the foreman burner at Benson’s for over 40 years. He has provided the following picture of Bill: Bill was about 6 feet tall with a very rangy type of physique. He was lazy physically but tremendous mentally. A loner with few friends. A very quiet man who never married. His three consuming interests were chess, animals and betting on horses. He was a successful punter for some time. His memory was prodigious and he could read a book and quote passages from it years afterwards. He had a huge library and lent many books to Wally. Bill’s favourite authors were Zane Grey, Rafael Sabatini and Jeffrey Farnol. His library contained vast quantities of the Saturday Evening Post. Bill became an ‘honorary’ uncle to Wally’s son and daughter and used to buy books and encyclopaedia for them. He was still corresponding with Wally’s daughter when her first child was born but in later years they lost contact. A considerable amount of Bill’s wages were spent feeding and caring for animals such as dogs and cats. He sometimes helped friends out with anonymous amounts of money. Bill was very keen on cricket and able to spin a ball and bat well in friendly games at the brickworks. Wally considered Bill to be a “bonzer bloke” of very good education but lacking in ambition. A complete contrast to his father who was a self made man of driving ambition. Bill’s father was a very strong character who used to “bellow like a bull”, with Wally at times on the receiving end of the bellow.

Whilst at Benson’s Bill worked as a burner on rotating shifts. He hated responsibility and on one occasion when Wally was away for 6 weeks, he was appointed foreman burner. He rang Wally up more than once to ask him to come back and take over the job. Bill did not wish to be a burden on anyone nor did he like being fussed over. Wally was certain that Bill was not a member of any Returned Serviceman’s Leagues Club, nor was he interested in the Anzac March or attending the Repatriation Hospital in later years. Bill was not a church goer. On chess, Wally was quite sure that Bill sent many chess problems to the Sydney Morning Herald and that his workmates had little idea how involved in chess Bill was. “It was not quite the brickie’s hobby”, said Wally. He could not help with Bill’s chess life and laughingly told me, “My grandkids beat me at dominoes”. (There was no postwar Herald chess column nor were any of Bill’s originals sent to the Sun-Herald.) After his father retired Bill continued to live in the Manager’s cottage until late 1962 when his parents became ill and so he moved to live with them in 55 Wonoona Parade, Oatley. Bill remained at the works as a burner until 1969. Mrs Molly Prott, wife of the Whyatt family doctor in Oatley, lived directly behind the Whyatt home and she often talked with Bill. He had taken in a little dog that he named “Hobo” and Mrs Prott used to comfort the dog when Bill went away to Grand Final football matches. Bill was very attached to “Hobo” and was grateful to Mrs Prott for this. On one other occasion Dr Prott had asked Mrs Whyatt how Bill could stay at home all the time to which she replied “he is very happy and spends his time with conundrums”. Mrs Prott: “I feel much of the interest in his problem compositions was because he cared solely for his aged mother, refusing any suggestion offered by my husband to have a nurse care for her – and dear “Hobo” his true companion through that ordeal.” Bill nursed both his parents until their deaths. Mrs Prott knew Bill to be a very shy man who was always well dressed. She also knew the family to be one that didn’t mix much. Another neighbour living opposite the family in Wonoona Parade was Mr Hugh Davidson who knew them from 1968-71. After Bill’s mother died Mr Davidson occasionally spoke to Bill whilst he was working on his front lawns and garden and gradually got on speaking terms though never inside the front gate. On 16 July 1971 Mr Davidson noticed Bill’s milk had not been collected and going over was able to save Bill’s life as he had taken an overdose of his mother’s sleeping tablets. Bill recovered in hospital and confided to Mr Davidson that he had some financial problems to which Mr Davidson offered to help but Bill refused. The embarrassment caused Bill to sell the family home and take rented premises in 12 Boundary Road, Mortdale. Mr Davidson thought Bill to be very shy and reserved as was his mother. There were few friends and visitors and the family in fact didn’t seem to encourage contact with outsiders. Like Mrs Prott, Mr Davidson knew Bill to be very clean in his dress and habits, a non-drinker, and he felt it a tragedy that a man with such a clever brain was unable to come to grips with the rest of the world. Mr Davidson had heard that Bill’s father was a very dominating man and considers this may have had some influence on his life. It was around this time that Mrs Boshier, Bill’s niece, came to look after him whilst he recovered and though knowing him as a rather ‘shadowy figure’ in her early years she developed a tremendous affection for his kind and generous spirit. Mr Hunter, Bill’s landlord at Mortdale, tried to befriend him but it was not possible. He felt Bill was pathologically shy. On collecting the rent every fortnight nothing more was exchanged than the usual conversation whilst the receipt was written out. On another occasion Mr Hunter called to put a new refrigerator in the house. Bill opened the door and disappeared into his bedroom, never emerging until the new machine had been fitted and the old one taken away.

Bill and “Hobo” remained at Mortdale until just before Christmas 1975 when “Hobo” was run over and killed. This upset Bill greatly and he wrote a long pathetic letter to Alex Goldstein about the accident which was so heart rending that the Goldsteins were near crying. In March 1976 Bill wrote to Alex and myself stating that his health had taken a sudden nosedive and that he would write again in a few months time if things picked up. He requested that both of us not write again until we heard from him. On 17 May Bill wrote to Mr Hunter enclosing the key of the house and a note that stated he didn’t have any further use for the home or the chess books and other material that was there. Mr Hunter rushed over to the home but Bill had gone. Where he slept that Monday night is anyone’s guess. The next day Tuesday 18, Bill was sighted on the Harbour Bridge around 4:30 p.m. by the police. He was near the North Pylon and though the police tried to stop him from jumping it was to no avail. He was dead on arrival at the Mater Hospital. A later inquest revealed no abnormalities. Mr Hunter identified Bill’s body the Saturday after. Bill was buried by the R.S.L. N.S.W. branch, some of his effects including his lawn mower and war medals being used to defray the cost of the burial. His body was interred in the lawn section of the Field of Mars cemetery in Epping, Sydney, on 2 June 1976. *************************** Bill was almost an unknown person to all his friends in the chess scene. Alex Goldstein met him once in 1967 yet they corresponded for 23 years. Frank Ravenscroft never met him – yet they lived but 15 miles apart. Mrs Ravenscroft told me that though Frank had wanted to call and meet him, that Bill had not wanted that nor did he wish to call and visit Frank. They had corresponded since the early 1950’s. I never met him. I did have a couple of phone conversations with him but that is the extent of it. Like Frank I had wished to meet him but was unable. (See letter 6 January 1976.) The biography has been built up from his non-chess playing friends, Leo McCarthy, Wally Rochester, Bill’s niece Mrs Boshier and Mrs Jessie Whyatt his sister in law. I am grateful to them all for their kind help in piecing together a picture of this man who through Mrs Whyatt’s eyes was a kind, generous and sensitive person who had built up a barrier between himself and human relationship. I also thank Mrs Prott for her nice letter. She believed that Bill’s mother’s death and also that of “Hobo” resulted in his whole world collapsing. Mr Hugh Davidson was also very helpful with his long letter and phone call. Leo McCarthy: “With the death of his family he often mentioned he was the last of the Whyatts; loneliness, the illness of friends and finally financial problems, made the business of coping with life impossible … Bill always felt a person had a right to terminate their existence rather than put up with pain for years.” On 9 January 1977 having not heard from Bill for many months I decided to call on him whether he liked it or not and this was when the news emerged. Through my brother who is in the Police Force the news was passed on to his next of kin. The Whyatt family as a whole have to be thanked for permitting me to acquire Bill’s chess effects from the Public Trustee as Bill’s Manuscript Problem collection was amongst these effects. This MS now remains in the Anderson Chess Collection in the State Library of Victoria. It would have been an impossible task to put together the problems in this book without that Manuscript.

As for Bill’s life, the Biography reveals a sad and lonely one. He had a slight speech and hearing defect and possibly this was a factor in his dislike of contact with people face to face. I must say though that he was clearly intelligible over the phone when I spoke to him. I could find no evidence of a terminal illness causing his suicide and can only put it down to loneliness, increasing ill health through a stomach disorder and a desire to give up living. All the people he corresponded with could not help him at the end. I know for certain that I would have if I had met him just once. That’s all it takes to get to know someone one has corresponded with for years. There would be many people who would have helped had they known. If anything reveals a more tragic picture than the following newspaper extract then I don't know what it could be: The Sun: Wednesday 19 May 1976. “A man died after falling from near the North Pylon of the Harbour Bridge yesterday. Police have been unable to identify the man who was found lying near the corner of Broughton and Fitzroy Streets Kirribilli at 4:15 p.m. He was aged between 60 and 70 with grey hair and neatly dressed in a grey coat, grey suit and green hat.” With the loneliness this man endured through his life and the contrastingly wonderful pleasure that he has given lovers of the chess problem art through his compositions, the only conclusion that can be drawn is that Bill was capable of great love for others in an impersonal way. He was just unable to cope with friendly personal contact. At the finish when the going got rough no one was able to help him. Maybe if we can all have a kind thought for others we know who today are in Bill’s situation and can help them, then this sad story might mean progress is being made.