IN CAMP

Evening Star, Issue 23370, 13 September 1939, Page 10

IN CAMP

IMPRESSIONS OF A RESERVIST THE FIRST WEEK [Written by Kiwr, for the ‘ Evening Star.’] . On the Monday of the last week in August all the available “ old-timers ” were paraded for their first “ muster parade ” as the National Military Reserve, class 11. Of the 400 odd reservists who paraded some were limbless, some partially blind, and some looked ill, but over half of them volunteered for immediate service if re-, quired. The possibility of war loomed large, but these men had developed minds which instinctively resisted anything savouring of propaganda, and their 2iolicy, under a working class Government, was “ when in doubt, disbelieve what the newspapers say.” Thus the atmosphere of the Drill Hall was busy, but lighthearted. On one side the Territorials did their weekly drill—just as they had done for the past 20 peaceful years; on another, the newlyformed Scottish regiment created a favourable impression even on this most critical audience as they marched and counter-marched in their ill-fitting “slacks.” Mostly the reservists were cheerful and a little self-conscious.

“ Hello, Bill, thought you had enough of this sort of thing last time.” “So I did; better get in early this time to land a ‘ cushy ’ job,” Bill hides his embarrassment and slopes off among the crowd. Then a civilian, somewhat portly, it is true, hut with the unmistakable bearing of a sergeant-major, gives an order. The round shoulders straighten and pipes come from mouths as hands snap to the “ attention.” Training tells —even yet. The men fall in, the civilian officers address them. “ Fall out the officers.” “ Fall out the men who (know that they cannot pass medical examination.” No one moves; surely these men don’t think they can get away with this. The officer explains that such men will probably get positions as instructors, and pleads with them to be reasonable and fall out. At last a few stragglers leave the ranks, led by a man with two artificial limbs; others follow slowly. “ Fall out the men who are eligible for immediate service.” Most of the remainder fall out. and are marched off to give again their names and addresses and telephone numbers. They march away again, keeping good line, and await the issue of rifles. It appears that none are available at the moment, and the men are told to dismiss and return for rifles in 10 days’ time.

“ Well, that’s that. A chap had to show that he was willing to do his job again, but it appears to be a fizzle out. Parade four times a year and be ready for service at any time.” Well, there was no war and there would be none; one couldn’t believe .these scaremonger newspapers. The following Saturday many homes were invaded by polite young men in the peculiar and efficient uniform of the Motor Cycle Corps. They were precise and definite in their message. “ Report at the Drill Hall before 9 to-morrow morning.” Reservists smiled ; they were now to get rifles to take Home so that the public would, feel that something was being done about the international situation. Rifles that would.be of no use in New Zealand because here was no enemy, and, after all, the Japanese menace seemed to have gone for ever. But full fighting equipment was issued with the rifles on the following day. The men. were cheerful, and speculated on the subject of Army pay. All thought that Territorial pay of 12s per diem would be the minimum for private soldiers if it ever became necessary to guard the “ secondary ports,” but then, why guard them when there was no war on? '

The parade which followed was brief andl to the point. The men took the usual oath and were instructed to parade in uniform at 1 p.m. At 1 p.m. they “ enbused,” according to the parlance of the veteran sergeant, and aped away to their various places of guard duty. No war yet, but such places as petrol dumps, aero fields, arsenals, and the like were quickly and efficiently picketed. There had been no instructions. The men told their wives that they might possibly have to stop for the night in camp. They hoped that there would be a meal while they were on duty. Evening came and sentries were posted for duty throughout the night. “When are we going home, sergeant?” “ Don’t know, old son; you’re here ‘ for the duration,’ and that may be 10 years yet.’ ” Men had no personal gear, no shaving kit, no cleaning outfit, no change of clothing. Surely they would not be expected to stay for more than one night. But next night the orderly officer arrived and said quietly: “ Wellchaps, we’re at war.” The news was received quietly; only one man, who had no first-hand knowledge of what war meant, said; “Good.” All the ex-servicemen seemed thoughtful. “ We’ll have to get our gear as soon as possible.” Ammunition was issued, with instructions to use it if unlicensed persons attempted to approach the sentries. “ There is a war on.” The old soldiers began to remember, and that night .few of them slept very well. The medical examination was held, and as man after man came back with hurt looks and a muttered “ C 3 ” or “ unfit,” one began to realise that the word" “ war ’’ had awakened in them something of the past, when a man had good “ cobbers ” and when a spirit of sacrifice and service for one another had been manifested by all ranks. They had been keen to be into the fray once more, and felt cheated by the medical reports. Some who still remembered that war is hell at any time were frankly grateful. They had offered their services, and they were to be used for home defence only because their previous service had rendered them unfit for active warfare. Only a small percentage, which included those who had not been at the last war, were passed as fit for active service anywhere. Would they be sent to Singapore or to England? No one knew anything. After the third day the camp began to take on a permanent quality. Electricity was installed and water. Sentry boxes appeared and further equipment was issued. The food was good; the men were contented enough. Then the papei’s announced the rates of pay. Men remembered that they had been earning more than twice the amounts offered in civil life. Were they being fools? The public servants had been assured by the Prime Minister that they would not he out of pocket, and yet they were included in the same list, with the additional benefit that the Government would pay their superannuation contributions. On the understanding that these promises would be honoured they had signed on “ lor the

duration ” without seeing any conditions of service. They began to talk about the fellows who still remained at their work. Who was going to sabotage anything in New Zealand? This question was quickly answered by the cabled news that an aerodrome in Australia had. been destroyed with all its fighting planes. Apparently the Nazi agents were active after all, and this sentry work might be a valuable precaution. The men settled down to their job with more interest—it was something worth doing. The Army boot, issued to all reservists, has received its full quota of anathemas. .City workers who have been used to a light shoe now wear iron-shod boots with a half-inch sole, which, though capable of hard wear over rough country, is as unyielding as stone. All the painful minor foot ailments common to recruits are being experienced once more by these men, and a hobbling gait is all most of them can manage in lieu of the brisk march to which the war accustomed them. This phase will pass in time, but the present cannot be overlooked, and every ruse is adopted to overcome the nagging pain in heels and toes. Some leave their hoots in water overnight, and go on duty next day with water oozing out at the lace holes in an endeavour to mould the hoot to the foot. Others try hammering the leather to reduce it to a pliant condition, while the “ pacifists ” treat the feet in order to harden them. The boots are well made, and are of good stout leather, and even a combination of all these methods of relief is insufficient to effect an immediate cure. The traditional Army food in short supply and of poor quality is well out of date. Plenty to eat and the best obtainable seems to be the new slogan of the defence authorities. The oldtime waste of good food, too, is not noticeable. The men eat well and have plenty, but sensible catering obviates undue waste. This is a thing almost to be regretted, because it leaves many of these old soldiers almost nothing to growl about. Army food used to be a valuable source of discussion arid protest, but that topic of conversation now ends with a surprised acknowledgment that “ the food is not too blinkin’ bad.”