MARTIAL ARDOUR

Dominion, Volume 8, Issue 2485, 11 June 1915, Page 6

MARTIAL ARDOUR

f ♦'THIS IS THE LIFE 1 ' WHAT THE MEN THINK OF TRENTHAM GREAT ENTHUSIASM 1 "It's a great life. I wouldn't give : it up for anything." He was a tall, bright youth, looking . hardly the nccessary twenty years. He had heard the call way up in Taranaki, and had answered in the British way. Due time saw him ordered into Trcn- ] i tham Camp. There someone found that this mere ■ lad was a smart recruit, trustworthy, and made of the best of material. That 1 . someone was on the lookout for smart, ' reliably men, and the lad was promoted. ; He hasn't been in camp very long, '■ but now lio's a sergeant. That's tho : Trentham way. it is a democratic ' camp, and the man who can learn, and will—and does—marches ahead. A very little while, ago this youth was j beating up and down the grass field doing "right turn," "left turn," and : so forth. But he did it a little better. and learnt it all more quickly than most of the other men, and now his tidy khaki uniform has threo stripes. You like Trentham? • "Liko it? This is the life!" ' These smart, young soldiers, who, only a few months ago, were among the j rawest of what the English Tommies call "raw rookies," are more keen on ] Trentham than they have ever been on , anything else. You meet a friend of , your Rugby days; meet the hoy who , would wait patiently his chanco for a j game of billiards in the city saloon; -| meet the bookworm; meet tho man who j always wanted to know "what won tho , last race" ; meet the person in whom , every theatrical show had a valuable ' patron I All have changed. All their i enthusiasms aro pooled in, one common work—soldiering. No Rugby soldier was ever as keen about Rugby as lie is about soldiering. No bookworm ever thumbed the pageß of "Cabbages and Kings" as he now thumbs that "Handbook for Territorials," or whatever the , text-book may be. ; "Do you have much fun in camp?" I "Well, no; in a way we don't. But J we have all we want. Tho men don't look for fun, but there is nothing to c prevent them from amusing themselves, ! and they do 60 to a certain extent. 1 And that's just one of the things about 1 the camp here that you people in town 1 can't realise—you've got to live here, 1 you've got to be one of us, to appreciate the keenness of the men. It's simply great. Tho boys are here for business. As t'bey 6ay: 'It's dinknm now; things are plenty serious enough.' "Even these new fellows who como into camp," he went on enthusiastically, "are as kenn as you can get them.' From tho first day they land in camp n they aro frothing for work. They may i, strike fatigue duty (pick and shovel) p lor a while, but they don't mind, and n many of them are real good at it. Early B rising in these frosty winter mornings n is a matter of indifference to everyone. s; Most of the men would like to be up t: and about long before they are called. E They go about their hour's physical drill p in the early dawn with the greatest n heart, and after a while everyone looks si forward to it. If the war ended to- S( morrow, and these men were turned w out of Trontham, it would be many a d day before they would forget their c Trentham habits. Anyhow, we don't j t want to leave Trentham—except to interview the Turk." To one who has visited Trentham on a Eevoral occasions, the thought has oc- b< curred that the early stages of training aj are probably very monotonous. Ask n , tho reoruit, and he will scorn the sug- S! gestlon u , Don't you sometimes get a little ti tired of doing "Quick march! Right a turn! Loft turn I Right turn!" all dayP k "Tired of it —no. It all looks simple p enough, but it takes time to do oven ti that .perfectly, and there's a certain s( amount of pleasure in fooling that you are progressing gradually, but surely, y in the art of executing oven theso s< simple commands." a , And tho goose-step? "Oh, tho goose-stop ' is good, lc p , teaches you to march, and you learn to_ carry yourself properly. One doesn't. mind going over and over the work a , again and again to learn these tilings. ' 0 , And then tho open air is so good that Work is a pleasure." +i "Did you see the Fifth?" he asked. t ] "Put in a good word for thom. Ray 0 . they are the finest troops you ev«r saw because they really are splendid." t* What do you do of a night hereP i: ''Turn in eafly. There are concerts .v ana picture shows to go to, and the i, men when they few inclined, but q most nights most of the men turn Q j in. They are glad to. Early rising „ and hard work 'makes sleep very wel- Vl come. Then the men are very keen J on feeling fit for the next day's work, r I tell you they ARE keep. The camp t is very quiet at night. You would not hear a sound. There is no rowdyism, § and the men are all well behaved." Who adapt themselves best to the ?' life, and generally make tho best sol- 11 diers—the outdoor workers from the ■} country, or the town men? " "It would'not be possible to make Vl a distinction of that kind. Among JV the bost are both town and country fellows. Trentham soon evens out the S differences_ which exist in men when they first join, and the best material is turned into the best soldier whether 111 that material has previously been a a rural worker or a town worker. The Si FMii by the way, is largely (as we oall it) a bushman's contingent. So ™ far as I know most of the men of the Fifth are from the farms—farmers and farm labourers. A good many of the s * Samoan garrison, too, are in tho m Fifth—about 250, I think. Altogether, there must be about 500 or moro of ti the > Samoa Contingent in camp now." Time was up. "pood-bye"! nj "Good-bye," ho said. "Hop© to see it: you again—but we're going through A with this." be