"NOOSEALANDERS."

Taranaki Daily News, 28 October 1915, Page 7

"NOOSEALANDERS."

OUR WOUNDED IN LONDON. Tho remarkable reception given in London to wounded New Zealanders is vividly described by Cpl. W. J. Hill, of the sth Reinforcements, in a letter to friends in Wellington. "London at last," he says. "We finished at Waterloo station, and were taken in motors to King George's Hospital, about ten minutes' drive. There was no crowd to welcome us—they didn't know we were coming; but occasionally we had to pull up owing to congestion of traffic, and then' we; realised that even the "gutter imps' and "Arriets' had hearts of gold. They swarmed round our cars, cheering and greeting us, and I can tell you that we New Zealanders will always have a soft place in our hearts for the 'lydies wot wears big feavers in their 'ats.' Just an impression of one of the girls who jumped up on the back step of the car I was in: Clad in all the colours of the rainbow, and crowned with a monster black hat and huge white feather, her pinched face brightened by a huge smile, she shook hands with mc to the accompaniment of these words: 'Good luck to yer, mate. Wot are yer? Noosealander, eh? Sye, girls, these are Noosealanders.' And then, what a rush! The names of New-Zealand and Australia are magic words in England just now, and our friends of (The 'feavers' struggled witli each other to get a peep at us, and to say a few words of welcome. Ter've done yer bits, yer 'ave, mates. Yer , 'ave, by Gawd! Yes, we know wot yes done ter those Turks. Yes, we does. We know all abaht it. Yes. Good luck to yes. Good luck. 'Odray! 'Ooray for Noosealand.'

''Soon our ride was over, but our welcomes. had not ceased, because the huge staff at the hospital was just itching to do something for us, and do it they did.. Soon we were all in bed, wounds attended to, and by 10 o'clock we were all comfortably settled in the newest of England's hospitals, situated in the heart of London, the city we all had read about, but never expected to see. And even with the hospital staff our welcome did not end. As many of us as can get away are taken out every day in cars, 'buses, cabs, and every conceivable kind of vehicle. London's proudest women are vieing with each other in their efforts to honour the soldiers. Tea parties, theatre parties, and drives are on every afternoon. We go to all the fashionable places we knew of only in papers and hooks. We are treated and feted like kings. Our drives through the city are triumphal processions. Everyone waves; many cheer—the kids always do. The girls kiss their hands, and the old men take off tlieir hats. Nothing is wanting to make the soldier (whether New Zealand, Maori, Australian, Canadian, or British) feel that his efforts have been, and are being, appreciated. Of course, we are easily recognised owing to our hospital dress—blue trousers, blue jackets, with white lapels and red ties. It is rather picturesque, and is to be seen everywhere. We have been entertained by duchesses, having taken tea in their homes, and have made friends galore. It is just wonderful, this London. It more than comes up to expectations; in fact, the country is all that we expected it to be, and none of us want to come home until all the danger of German invasion is gone."