WHEN DUTY CALLED

Wairarapa Times-Age, 5 July 1938, Page 5

WHEN DUTY CALLED

CAMP MEMORIES REVIVED. (To the Editor.) Sir, —As former editor of the old “Camp Courier,” whose readers in Trentham, Maymorn, Tauherenikau, Featherston and Papawai Camps totalled over a quarter of a million. I can but feel considerable personal interest in that section of a very unique collection of Great World War souvenirs—and more particularly at so great a lapse of time—which includes a framed photographic reproduction of' the Eighth N.Z. Expeditionary Reinforcements route-marching the then ever-rugged Rimutaka highway in the closing days of October, 1915; which at present forms part of a local shop window display, and to considerable passing notice, it seems. Scanning its now-faded columns, the writer finds that this old camp publication’s eighth issue coincided with the departure of the Eighth N.Z.E.F. by the troopships Willochra and Tofua (Nos. 35 and 36 respectively), on Saturday, November 13, 1915; and that its editorial remarks, under caption “Farewell the Eighths” (and pictorially surmounted by a pen-and-ink drawing of its commanding officer, Major Fleming Ross), reads: —“A finer set of men, or better-behaved and disciplined, never left New Zealand, That other portion which reads, inter alia, “therefore, with mingled feelings both of joy and regret. . .” stands out more convincingly true of them today, than when written of them in their younger manhood’s prime, ere chance sickness, shot or shell wrought its eventual sad havoc in its ranks alone, who, 1600 stalwart and strong, were rightly named the “Happy Eighth,” if only by reason of the endless war-time songs-they sang in their three days of route-marching, bivouacing, and all-night manoeuvring and final “at-dawn-attack” on this, and on the other side of the Hill. That a copy of the last photo of him taken in New Zealand (mounted), just prior to embarkation, came into the- writer’s personal, as well as camp editorial possession, at the bereaved hands of Major Fleming Ross’s widow within a year of his departure (he was killed in action in France on September 18, 1916) seems but one of the many similar tragedies affecting the “Eighths”; and each and every other reinforcement prior to, and succeeding them, and pushes further into the background of battle any mere idle if sentimental speculations such as these; yet are they as inseparable from memory’s completeness as the days and companionships—before entering the grim battle of life itself — we spent and made at school. Reverting to the route march of the Eighths, it seems but yesterday, and yet how long ago it is in actual period of time itself, since they, marched into Trentham Camp, led from Upper Hutt, township to the camp gates by the music of Bandmaster Fred Fox and his champion instrumentalists, playing their favourite marching tune, “The Starlit Dell,” close-followed by innumerable local township dwellers, school children, and an awaiting crowd of raw recruits from Trentham Camp itself —denim-clad, as usual — who could thus more accurately picture themselves, four months hence, likewise returning to the old parent camp, at Trentham, as bronze-skinned and shorted heroes such as these who came back for a week’s respite be-

fore packing their sea-kits and embarking for the noise and din of battle, countless ocean leagues away. Apologising for trespassing thus greatly upon your valued space by reason to chance an opportunity of an erst camp pen being found, once more, “on parade!”—l am, etc., N.J.B. Masterton, July 2.