SI GEORGE RICHARDSON – OF SAMOA

Sun (Auckland), Volume I, Issue 122, 13 August 1927, Page 24

SI GEORGE RICHARDSON - OF SAMOA

From Master-Gunner to Administrator 0 . . Distinction at Cambarlejo . . The Retreat at Antwerp o . .

Much has been written of Sir George Richardson's administration in Sa- j moa , particularly in recent months, but not so much of the man himself, Tlic folioicing pen-picture of the Administrator of our mandated territory * written for THE SUN by A.A.G. | will be of interest.

■Tffl .‘lgi'. HE first time I saw Sir 'if—George Richardson was in 1901. It was at (KBTfß3i'§Y summer morning, and I fcisdaKLilril he was shaving, at the door of his tent, in an amazing manner, without the aid ot a looking-glass; his razor in one hand, while with the other he held his cheek taut for the stroke of the blade, as he smiled through the lather at a driver who was trying to catch a horse which had got away from the lines, and was careering over the parade-ground. That was his way—he did everything just a little bit better than anybody else, and he always did it smilingly. He was a master-gunner then, the smart, efficient non-commissioned officer par excellence and without a peer in the opinion of all the officers and men of the New Zealand Artillery, both field and garrison, who had the good fortune to receive his instruction. For eight or ten years I soldiered with him; drilled under him; rode all day with him; slept at night beside him, sometimes on the hard ground, with only a little straw to cover it; shared the soldier’s frugal ration with him; yarned with him; laughed with him; discussed the whole world with him, from the care of horses to the government of the Church by bishops; taught him to drink cider, and he practically a teetotaller; learned from him, and practised under him, the intricate art of gunnery: watched him as he displayed in his inimitable manner all those fine points of soldiership which were the admiration of all who served with him. Yes, I claim to know him well, as well as I know my own brother, and better than I knoV some of them; and, during all the years I was so closely associated with him, I never knew him to do or say a harsh thing. If he could not speak well of a man, he simply did not speak of him. His temper was always under control; I never knew him to lose it, even in the most provoking circumstances. He was kindness itself to animals. He had to deal with all sorts and conditions of men, and he won the regard of them, one and all, by his absolute fairness and higb sense of justice. His efficiency won their respect, and his good-comradeship won their regard. If anybody tells me be is different to-day from what he was when I soldiered with him, I tell them

1 1 don't believe it. I have watched i him during his whole career, from ! the time he was an instructor of | artillery till to-day, when he is AdI ministrator of Western Samoa, and I J do not believe he has changed in ! character one iota since the day I j first knfew him. I remember wben he was promoted to commissioned rank, very largely through the actions of the officers of the battery to which I belonged and 1 couldn’t see that his promotion made the slightest difference in the sweet amiableness of his character. After that he went Home to the Staff College at Camberley, and went through the most stringent course in strategy and tactics with conspicuous success. The photograph reproduced herewith shows him as he then was, his rank that of major. When the war broke out he was doing duty at the War Office, and was attached to the staff of the Royal Naval Division which was sent to Antwerp. Subsequently I met in New Zealand a man who had served with that division, and I asked him how Major Richardson fared during the disastrous retreat. He said; “The last I saw of him was in a staff car, which he had filled with refugee women and children, whom he was trying to take out of danger, while at the same time he kept in touch with the retreating column.” Yes, that was just the sort of thing he would do. He -would be doing his duty all the time, and would be doing a little more, in addition.

Not long ago I was talking with an old comrade of mine who was telling me his experiences on Gallipoli, where he served as a gunner in a field-bat-tery. He said that one day he and a squad of gunners were detailed to carry up shells from the beach to the battery, and while they were tolling, half-way up the rugged track, they were overtaken by a group bf staff officers who were going to inspect the front positions. Among them was Richardson, now promoted to Lt.Colonel. “Ha!” he said, recognising my friend the gunner, -whom he had last seen in New Zealand. “Aren’t you Gunner McConochie, of H Battery, New Zealand? I remember your face quite well.” Then after a few encouraging words, he passed on up the hill, and joined the other staff officers. I tell this small Incident to show how far-reaching were his sympathies and how close his association with the men he trained —he could remember them individually and by name, though he had not seen them for years. This is not a biography, but merely a few notes; therefore I will skip a few years. When Major-General Richardson was knighted, in 1925, I

wrote to congratulate him. and ... is what be replied:—'“You knot t4i well enough to know that thisw? means little to me. . . Honours awards do not mean success i» However, here I am with resnirj l * ity. and 1 have to W whether I like it or not Mv t'"’ feelings are. however, those n f* : master-gunner, and always will iL : That I believe to be ahsolutehTo day liis outlook on life is the a,’ as it was when I first saw him n,‘ ing his toilette over a bucket , water in his tent-door. He i s a same considerate helper and comr£ of hts fellow-men, possessed of unerring sense of duty and serrii* Ambition and he were as far sea ated as the poles. For twelve as a master-gunner he did his dsn faithfully and well, without anyott.reward than his meagre pay. Pmtion came to him because he desem? it. because his merit c;ould not b hidden and must perforce be warded. Before he went to tlIslands, he told me that his pop? would have as its chief object If! furthering of the natives’ we&r* which was the first principle la; down by the ■ Mandate, and thong doubtless there would be those *- would dislike and even resist tktt policy, he would certainly carry through. The trouble which has beecreated is not, I am convinced, of hi creation. But I recognise that u ; soldier he will not brook disloyalty csedition in anyone, either Europeaor native, who seeks to upset bis ameliorative policy. For, after i Sir George Richardson is a fightr and once a quarrel were forced os him he would fight to the end. Bs> he would fight fairly; it is not in to physical and mental composition ic do a mean or cruel action. We vko have served with him, year in ate year out, and know him through a;-: through, never wished for a betteleader, because we knew he was sap peur et sans reproche. I am satisfy he is so still, and that when he is free to break the silence imposed this official position, he will so clear vindicate al.l his actions that the No Zealand public will not merely tpprove, but will applaud, his policy.