A MAORI’S PRISONER

Bay of Plenty Beacon, Volume 10, Issue 72, 13 January 1947, Page 5

A MAORI’S PRISONER

UNIQUE FRIENDSHIP FORMED

FURTHER WAR STORY Yet another war story related to us by Rev. Wharetini Rangi, when acting as Padre to the Maori Battalion in the Middle East is well worth recounting. The story concerns the taking of a German prisoner by a Maori soldier, and illustrates once again the quickly forgiving nature of the Maori as soon as the excitement of battle dies down. ■ The hero of the story was a husky Maori who marched in one day with a huge Jerry, with his hands well above his head, and looking in the last stages of collapse. The Maori bayonet urged him on to the Battalion Headquarters but when an attempt was made to take the prisoner away with others recently ‘bagged’, the Maori captor was adamant. ‘This fellow is mine,’ he declared. ‘I captured him, and he is my 'property.” As it was fairly quiet, it was de- • cided to humour the private, who thereupon discovered a new status, with the Jerry doing all his chores, • cleaning his buttons, his boots, look--ing after his gear and generally act- • ing as batsman. The Maori drew •double rations, one for self and the other for ‘servant.’ They shared tucker and luck, until the German became quite a popular acquisition to the unit. He quickly recovered his spirits, and even entered into the military life of the unit. Several times those in authority sought to take the prisoner to the rear, but by this time he was the accepted mascot, of the company even sharing his owner’s blankets at night and contentedly sleeping . in the same bivvy. He never showed any inclination to escape, and took .an occasional ‘blast’ from his captor in good part, though the language barrier led to many inevitable faux pas.

Time went on and the battalion was once again ordered to advance. .Jerry’s master again put up a game fight to retain his ‘property.’ He threatened, raged and entreated. All to no avail. Serious work lay ahead, and no encumbrances were allowed. Jerry must go. “The last I saw of them,” said Padre Rangi, “was standing by the lorry which was about to take the Hun back to the cages. They had fallen on each other’s shoulders and there were actual tears.”