WAR NOTES

Taihape Daily Times, 24 October 1917, Page 2

WAR NOTES

THE NEW ZEALANDERS HOW AN ANZAC MADE GOOD. THE BOY AND THE MAJOR. It has been said that one of the reasons for the success of the colonials at the front has been their readiness to take on any task, no matter how venturesome, whether they have had any experience in that special direction or not. A rather humorous instance of this, which fortunately did not end in tragedy, is related by a young Maorilander not very long out of his teens, who has recently been seconded for a commission “Brother Bill (himself),” he Avrites to his sister, “is on a good staff job just now, but I do not think it will last more than a week. You would never guess what it is. Well, I’m driving the Major’s car. They called last Saturday for a volunteer, who must be an ‘experienced driver.’ It. sounded too good a job to let slide, so ‘Brother JB'ilT hopped out, and was accepted. I have never driven a car or even been in a military car since I joined the army, and you knoAV how many I have • driven in civilian life (none). Of course, I thought that I would have a Aveek in Avhich to learn the tricks of the trade on the quiet, so imagine my feelings Avhen I Avas told to be ready in an hour to drive the Major to a place called Wylie (15 or zO miles aAvay)_ 1 Avas in a cold shiver, but it Avas too late to back out then, so I got hold of a pal and had ‘ls minutes’ instruction’ on how r.o start her, etc., and dashed aAvay to change, and my head Avas buzzing I with footgears, levers, etc.

“Well, we started. The car jumped and jerked, and puffed and bloAved while I AvaS endeavouring to get her out of the shed. I may add that I did not leave without taking with me any first field dressing, just in case of accidents. I picked up my Major at the officers’ mess. The Major in question is rather old and very much afraid of motors, so methinks ‘if I } can’t bluff you, old horse, into believing that I know a thing or two about motors, my name is not —’ He said he’d have a drive for a start. This wag right in my hands, as I could watch him and thus find out how the machine worked. T’m very nervous,’ ho said ‘l’ve only been learning for a couple of weeks.’ To this I replied, ‘You only need confidence sir, you’ll scon learn!’ ‘D— soon, too’ I said to myself; ‘if you get back to-night, old man, with a whole skin, your luck’s in!’ Well, the silly old fool backed Into a small and then gave the job up. So once we had dug the ‘b..s’ out, I took the wheel. I zigzagged. a bit for a start, but did very well considering. We reached a good straight country road, with no traffic, so methinks it’s noAv or never. I increased the speedy The Major turned slightly pale, and I put on a bit more. He Avas iioav hanging for dear life on to the side of the car, and his eyes Avere sticking out like this!! I glanced and smiled; then gradually went faster. His mouth opened, and I thought, ‘you’re mine, old sport.’ A little faster, and he jabbered, ‘Pull up —, I’m too nervous to travel as fast as this.’ So Avorkcd a good bluff. We

reached our destination and met the Major’s wife and daughter. ‘‘l asked the Major if he was going to drive back, but hi s wife said_ ‘No! We' must have a capable man!’ So Brother Bill again took the wheel, fully determined to see what the old girl’s nerves were like, too. So, back over the same road, I made her cry ‘quits’ too. The daughter, about 25 years, and her dad climbed into the back seat and the old girl was perched up alongside me. I am glad to say that we stopped many times on the road. The Major would take his family across the paddocks to see the sights. It was a great drive. "I took them out again on Sunday and ran them down to the station on Monday_ I motored the Major to the Bulford Station, and I decided to go f°r a joy ride to Salisbury (20 miles away) with my pal, so we borrowed the car and also some petrol, and away we went. We had a great time and left again at 9 p.m. It was pitch dark, bitterly cold, and we only had two small kerosene lamps to see us along the road. The bottom fell out of one, so we were practically in darkness and went dead slow, trying to feel our way as we Avent. We just missed a feAV telegraph posts, and. in dodging one, hit a fowlhouse. So there we were, in amongst the eggs and squealing hens in the fowl-yard! We squared up with the farmer, and started off again once more It was so dark that Ave missed the turning of the road, and, in trying to back, the car Avent into a ditch. Two officers came along and toAved us out, but the car refused to start, so there avo remained all night in a bitterly cold Avind, and consequently had no sleep. Wo reached camp next morning at 11.”