He was the most popular man in the Australian Imperial Forces by the end of the First World War. He’d been amongst the first men to land at Gallipoli and he was one of the last to leave those dreadful shores. He served on the bloody Western Front until late in 1917. 1917 was the worst year of the war for the Australians. 55,000 casualties, 38,000 at Passchendaele alone. He was always amongst the worst of the fighting.

The need of his men for him to stay with them was great, but the man was shattered by the end of 1917 and ordered back to Australia. Then he was shattered at having to leave them.

When he got home, the government organised for him to go around Australia to bring news of the war, and because he was an absolute legend to so many people. When he was touring, people travelled hundreds of miles to where he was going to be. To see him, or better still to hear him speak. Most importantly of all, for so many tragic people, to feel the touch his precious hands.

There was a kind of magic about his hands. It wasn’t magic like in some goofy TV series, it was a tragic magic that drew many many Australians, irresistibly to him like a magnet. His hands were often left raw and bleeding at the end of a day. Why?

This is a man whose story you need to hear from me, because nobody else is telling it – and it should be told. This man is one of the greatest Australians – and at the same time nothing.

No wonder they say "Thank God for the Salvos" - the Salvation Army.

Tag words: Australian Imperial Forces; First World War; Gallipoli; Western Front; William McKenzie; Fighting Mac; Christians; Presbyterians; Great War; Salvation Army; Jesus Christ; angels; Pope Francis; Abraham Lincoln; Garden of Gethsemane; Greg Sheridan; Lyn Edge; Morotai; God bless the Salvos; The Fountain of Public Prosperity; Stuart Piggin; Robert Linder; Lone Hand; ANZAC; chaplain;