DISTANCE AND THE DESIRE FOR KNOWLEDGE

New Zealand Listener, Volume 10, Issue 246, 10 March 1944, Page 16

DISTANCE AND THE DESIRE FOR KNOWLEDGE

The Farther Soldiers Wander The More Questions They Seem To Ask

‘T T would be unfair, and perhaps untrue, to suggest that the farther a soldier is from his base the more interested he is in education. But it is a fact that the troops on Vella Lavella are a long way from their base, and at least one man in eight of them (we were told by Lieut. Congalton, who is in charge of the work there) is taking a regular course of study under the Army Education and Welfare Scheme. Most armies are satisfied if five per cent of their ‘personnel go _ voluntarily to A.E.W.S. courses. That is the figure aimed at in Britain. But the figure achieved on Vella Lavella is 1242 per cent, and there is, of course, no kind of coercion. or even pressure. No Formal Lectures In a combat zone, there is little opportunity for the organisation of -_-

formal discussions. Current affairs bulletins, usually known as CABS, are received and circulated among all those anxious to study them; they are discussed and argued about; they may even lead to systematic courses of study. But that is incidental and not pre-arranged. Normally, bulletins are just an aid to conversation in huts and tents and dug-outs. If you have read one on China you have an advantage over the other fellow when China provokes an argument. If you have all read one, your argument will be more factual, and therefore more rational and useful. But you do not read in order to argue. You read for information, because you desire information, or because time is heavy on your hands and it seems better to you to ease the burden usefully. Vocational education, on the other hand, proceeds systematically. Some

men have done practical things all their lives without knowing why-the average artisan or farmer. Others have wanted, or supposed that they wanted, to do something else-a clerk who has dreamed of keeping bees, or a fruitfarmer who has envied an accountant. Army education fills in the picture for both groups. The courses of study it provides-usually in a brightly-written, attractively-printed series of lessonsare a technical school for the tradesman, a commercial school for the businessman, a school of agriculture for the man on the land. We saw a typical farming course, and noted with interest that it had been prepared by the staff of Canterbury Agricultural College. It was clearer, brighter, more interesting to look at and (continued on next page)

(continued from previous page) more interesting to read than any set of notes we had .ever seen used by a student of agriculture in peace time. And what applies to agriculture applies to carpentry, engineering, biology, book-keeping, agriculture, and most of the other courses provided for the Pacific army. Those who are facthungry are fed with the facts they are sighing for-and sometimes, of course, a few meals are enough. It has happened that men who have been hankering for years after a life on the land, say, have not hankered any more after a week or two spent on a farm course. Some, on the other hand, who did not know that they wanted to be architects, say, or keepers of bees, and who entered on a course idly, because there seemed to be nothing more interesting to do, have suddenly discovered their vocation. In both cases the study course has been an asset to them-in @ne case by ending foolish longings, in the other, by opening new and satisfying vistas. Social Adjustment Put another way, it means this, Lieut. Congalton suggested: that the men of the Pacific army are adjusting themselves socially for the days that will follow the war. Many who were wrongly placed before the war began are being helped to see what they should have been doing. Many who were doing: their work mechanically are being shown how to do it with fuller knowledge and a livelier interest. ’ Nor is it necessary to point out that there is hardly any battlefront in the world in which work of this kind is carried on under greater difficulties. It might be worse in Burma, perhaps, or among the guerrilla bands in the Balkans, but in general, jungle fighting in the Pacific Islands is about as unfavourable as campaigning can be for regular study. Continuity is Difficult Lieut. Congalton did not pretend to us that it was possible to maintain unbroken regularity with either classes or correspondence’ courses. Action necessarily stopped everything. But within a fortnight of the last operations in which they were engaged, our Pacific fighting units had built themselves a theatre to hold 3000 men, and supplies of reading matter went forward during actual operations as often as transport was available. When a man has nothing to do but sit in a foxhole waiting, a book or a magazine or a bulletin on current affairs can be very precious to him, If he is close to the enemy, he will not be able to read by night; and even if he is back a little in a tent or a semi-permanent dug-out, he will not have eléctric light to read by. A candle in a bottle is a-poor substitute for even a kerosene lamp; but it is the best most men can be given in forward areas, * and makes it all the more surprising that so large a proportion not only follow systematic courses but actually ask to be examined in them. Demand Exceeds Supply There are, in fact, far more applicants for study courses than can be supplied. And there are several men, too, who are taking degree courses for

university examinations. These men Army Education assists by supplying textbooks on hire. But it does not offer to coach them. The most it can do is to facilitate their studies by receiving and forwarding material to them, and arranging for their final examination. But in spite of all these drawbacks — accentuated. by the fact that a student must work in his spare time and in a hut or tent shared by others who are not students-in spite of all that, the men who sat for degrees last year gained as good marks, without any concessions at all, as those studying in New Zealand. Reading Becomes Serious One curious fact that should be mentioned before this article closes is the appreciable change in literary taste shown by the users of camp libraries. For this Lieut. Congalton had no explanation to offer-he merely suggested that getting adventure in one’s daily life is perhaps sufficient for most people without adventure in print as well. There might, he said, be other factors, too. But it was beyond doubt that while the literature of violence-West-ern and detective fiction, and so onwas most popular to begin with, there had been a swing lately to serious and factual books.