It's the twenty seventh of October nineteen sixteen. The First World War has been raging for two years and won't come to an end for a couple more. In Australia, the nation is about to vote in a referendum on whether to introduce conscription for young men. The issue is hotly debated and the atmosphere in the country is tense. The government has even gone so far as to deny passports to men of military age to prevent them from
fleeing overseas. It's in this political climate that sees a man named Les Darcy secretly stowed away on a ship bound for New York mere hours before his twenty first birthday. But Les isn't your everyday citizen. He's famous. He's Australia's raining heavyweight boxing champion. Hi. Welcome to the ballroom where we celebrate the winners, losers and the weird stuff between. I'm Tony Armstrong. Les Darcy was one of ten children
in an Irish Catholic family. He was born in Maitland, New South Wales, and grew up with a love of boxing. It's one of our oldest sports, and in Less's day it was also one of the biggest and most profitable boxes were professional athletes known all around Australia. When Les was just twelve years old, he left school and went to work. Apparently child labor was still rife in those days. Initially he was a carter, someone who transports goods with
a horse and cart. At fifteen, he became a blacksmith's apprentice. The physically demanding work swinging a hammer soon had Les developing a boxer's build. He challenged other kids in bare knuckle fights and he learned quickly. Standing at just five foot six, Les was small for a middleweight, but he made up for it with his strength and skill. Still fifteen years old, he won his first professional fight by knockout in the second round and was paid fifteen shillings.
Les Darcy's boxing career took off immediately cue the montage. For the next three years, he went undefeated, winning seventeen fights from nineteen ten to nineteen thirteen. He was still a teenager, but Les had well and truly announced his arrival. Eventually, he was tested when he faced Bobby Whitelaw, the Australian welterweight champion. Bobby was in his early thirties. Les was just eighteen. It was November nineteen thirteen and a sold
out crowd packed into a theater in Newcastle. Bobby was the clear favourite, having held his title for eight years, while Les was worse for wear. He'd injured his hands in a previous about just nine days earlier. You'll probably know what's coming, yep. Bobby Whitelaw won the match. It was a brutal encounter, but Les could hold his head high. He lasted an incredible twenty rounds, losing on points. The following March, a rematch was held in Maitland, Les's hometown.
He wasn't going to let this opportunity pass him by. With the crowd on his side, Les knocked Bobby out in just five rounds and Australia had a new weld toweight champion. The next twelve months were up and down for Les. He won four straight matches before two defeats to American boxer Fritz Holland. Next up was an American Jeff Smith. When Le's complained about a low blow, the referee mistook his objection for quitting and automatically handed the
win to Smith. That was a hard one to take for Les, but it was also the last time he would lose a match seriously. In a rematch with Jeff Smith, Les was given the win after Smith punched him in the groin. Oh, I guess he wasn't kidding with that low blow. From there, Les was in cruise control. He defeated challenger after challenger, including a whole bunch of middleweights.
Seeking an even greater test, in nineteen sixteen, he took on the Australian heavyweight champion, Harold Hardwick, and he won. Les had fought above and beyond his weight class, proving that size really doesn't matter. He earned the nickname the Maitland Wonder bub for his boxing prowess and youthful looks. He'd become a national hero, especially among fellow working class Irish Catholics, but things were about to change. As the Great War passed the halfway mark, pressure was mounting on
Australia to send more troops. Young Men were encouraged to volunteer and treated with suspicion if they refused. A fit and strong man like Les was an easy target for criticism, but the pressure on him to enlist was far greater than most Les was one of Australia's most famous and respected athletes, so it was believed that if he led by example, others would follow. It seems Les wasn't keen
on the idea. Understandably, neither was his mum. In fact, you would have been hard pressed to find any Irish Catholic in the country in favor of the war. But on the thirtieth of August nineteen six the Australian government announced that a referendum to introduce a military conscription would be held on the twenty eighth of October. Alarm bells were ringing for Les. He was due to turn twenty one on voting day. If conscription became law, he'd have no choice but to join the army and be shipped
off to war. Luckily, Les had a plan. He'd previously considered going to the United States to challenge for the world title. That was now made a little more difficult under the political pressure and the fact that the government had canceled the passports of men who were eligible to serve. But that didn't stop Les. With the help of friends, he was secretly granted passage on a ship leaving Newcastle
bound for North America. When he eventually arrived, he was welcomed with excitement by the big time boxing promoters, who at least initially all wanted to offer him a contract In New York, you can be a new man. Less's goal was to win four or five big fights, earning enough money for his family's financial security. He even vowed to join the Air Force if he could just find success fighting in America. Back home in I was the press court wind of his great escape, Les was branded
a coward and a deserter. Meanwhile, fifty one percent of Australians had voted against conscription. Eventually, the news of Les's controversial departure reached the States, and it looked like he'd made a huge mistake. Lez had a big fight lined up in New York before it was abruptly canceled. The major boxing promoters didn't want a bar of him. They actually banned him from competing for a while. Les was
forced to seek out boxing matches with traveling Vardelle shows. Then, in April of nineteen seventeen, he became a US citizen, which he hoped would make getting back in the ring much easier. Finally, an offer came his way. An old foe wanted to face him one more time. Jeff Smith,
the groin punching American middleweight. You better believe Les was up for it, and the match was set to take place in Louisiana, but perhaps having heard about Les's story, the governor of the state put a ban on the fight. Les Darcy was at a crossroads. He made the decision to join the United States Armed Forces. He enlisted and was sent to aviation school, obtaining the rank of sergeant. But Les wasn't ready to give up on his boxing career. Another offer for a fight came in and he immediately
entered training. He wanted to give it everything he had, and as it turns out, he did. After going on a long run, he collapsed and ended up in hospital. Doctors observed that he'd had a serious tonsil infection, which led to blood poisoning and an inflamed heart. After his tonsils were removed, Les continued to battle the illness, but it was too much. He contracted pneumonia and died less than a week later, on the twenty fourth of May nineteen seventeen. On one hand, Les Darcy was a man
of unfulfilled potential, a true athlete. Tragically cut down by illness at just twenty one years old. Who knows how much better he could have become, maybe a world champion. On the other hand, his record speaks for itself forty six wins, four losses and he was never knocked out. By the time Les Darcy's body was sent back to Australia, the nation had had a change of heart. Thirty five thousand people attended his funeral and he was honored as a sporting hero once again. No doubt he was one
of the greatest. Thanks for dropping into the ballroom. You've been listening to an iHeart production. I'm Tony Armstrong and I'll catch you next time.