One hundred years ago this week, columnist "Clio" of Melbourne's Punch was worrying about peaceful Melbourne being a dangerous place for the young soldiers waiting to sail away to the war.
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"There are signs it is just about time our first contingent got away, for they face a grave danger here in being 'killed by kindness'. Everybody is vying in giving them farewell entertainments. And these farewells are a little too prolonged. The convivial send-offs began two weeks ago, the contingent, has not sailed yet, and so the pause is filled in with more 'farewells'. It is enough for a boy to be wearing khaki to be the recipient of hospitality from the 'man in the street', who is, of course, proud of him, and wishes to show it, even though ill-advisedly. It is no kindness to 'shout' drinks for boys, who, perhaps, have never touched alcohol before.
"On a recent afternoon, I saw a khaki-clad boy who looked no more than 15, though he must have been the regulation age of 17, walking along one of the principal of suburban streets, taking each step with a care that was frightful; but, as luck would have it, a go-cart upset his centre of gravity, and over he went. A corporation labourer flew to the rescue, and helped him up again. Shaking his rescuer gravely by the hand, the soldier said, 'Thanks, old man, meecher in Berlin for Christmas dinner.' Bystanders laughed; but, truly, the incident seemed more a cause for tears.