Chapter IV.
At Sea.

Saturday, the 15th August, broke mild and calm, with a pale moon in its last quarter dipping over the city as New Zealand's first transports moved from their anchorages, passed under Kau Point, and headed seaward. Wellington was not yet awake, but, passing Seatoun in the still morning air, the boats assembled there under Admiralty orders awaiting entry to Port sounded a rally of whistles, and the Permanent Artillery on the Fort Hill cheered a lusty good-bye: and watchers from Karaka Bay observed a heavy trail of smoke from the Moeraki's funnel gradually take shape and form a perfect horse-shoe over the two ships—a good omen for the gallant expedition.

There was much speculation aboard as to what course would be taken upon clearing the Heads. The burning question for days had been "Where are we bound?" The general opinion was either an Australian rendezvous or a tropical seizure. In support of the latter the surf boats were pointed to as proof of a self-contained expedition, and the fact that both masters of the ships were old Island skippers, lent colour to this view. Against it, however, the troops were clothed in the heaviest of underwear and thick woollen uniforms.

But passing the wreck of the old Devon under Pen-carrow light a northerly course was shaped, and all that day the expedition hugged the East Coast of the North Island.

Choppy weather was now experienced, and many a stalwart son, who had never before left his native soil, was laid aside. Parades became a farce and were abandoned, and while the "casualties" were strewn in helpless confusion, the "sitting up cases" were able to seek out the sunny spots of the upper deck, and the 5th Regimental Band struck up a feebly-rendered selection. The amateur cooks and table waiters were left in sufficient force to provide meals for those who fancied them; but the average "sailor" cared not, and the feelings of the majority were page 31summed up in the following concise extract from a soldier's diary:—

"We started off at daybreak and struck a rotten sea at the beads. I was one of the first to hang over the side. No breakfast, no dinner, no tea, and a night that was worse than the day."

Are we downhearted?

After darkness fell lights were obscured, and the "Monowai" followed directly astern of the "Moeraki," which showed only her stern lamp. Ploughing thus in the darkness through the night brought sensations weird and strange to the unseasoned seagoers, the absence of lights being sufficient reminder of the possibilities and dangers of running across a hostile cruiser.

At dusk on the following day—Sunday, 16th August—the rendezvous was reached, and two small warships joined the expedition as escort. They were the third, class cruisers "Psyche" and "Philomel," of the New Zealand station. By next morning the "Pyramus," also a "P" class cruiser, had linked up, and the whole expedition continued its Northerly course.

A church parade, called for Sunday morning, was well attended, so also were the first sick parades, held upon that day. But men were now recovering their sea legs. A party was armed with paint and brushes, and set to work to convert the red and

Painting Ship.

black funnels and the hulls of the troopships to a French grey. Instructions in the use of the fire extinguishers, with fire alarms and boat drills, were given and a more hopeful appearance became evident throughout the ships. At night all ships steered on an intermittent light from the "Pyramus," and with its puny escort the expedition had left the shores of New Zealand well in its wake to run the gauntlet of the German Pacific squadron, which mysterious wireless signals indicated was somewhere in the vicinity.

It now became necessary to make many issues of clothing and equipment, and to ascertain how the hold was stowed, but this presented great difficulties, the holds being filled to overflowing and many of the necessary articles being under the cargo. Nor did the positions of the articles agree with the tally clerk's lists, and the A.S.C. men, who were called upon to handle the work, proved unable to stand up to the combined smell of the hold and ships' motion. But some experienced ships' hold men were unearthed, and the work was accomplished. Ships' can-page 33teens were opened, the vendors reaping a rich harvest, for of cash in the pockets of the troops there was plenty, and "ginger pop" sold at one shilling a bottle, with other goods at an equally exhorbitant rate.

No lights were now allowed after sunset, and the vigilant eye of the Navy soon brought to book any delinquent by peremptorily flashing an order to "obscure light in starboard porthole." Parades commenced in earnest, and no effort was spared in getting the men proficient in the handling of the rifle and a facile connection with the bayonet, in machine gun drill, bayonet exercises and physical training. The intervals between parades were assiduously devoted to lectures. Notwithstanding the severe discipline and hard training, there was a total absence of defaulters, the men buckling to with a will and making light of the troubles.

Meals continued of very poor quality and a few sacks of onions stowed aft on the "Monowai's" top deck were surreptitiously raided and eaten raw with ships' biscuits with great relish by a fortunate few. Of fresh water there was none for washing purposes and very little for drinking. The benefits of the early morning hose parade, when all hands doubled naked around the decks and received each in turn a hurried salt water splash, were enjoyed to the full, especially as the weather was fast becoming balmy and warm. Every possible article of clothing began soon to be discarded and parades were held in shorts, shirts, hats and bare feet.

Closely cropped hair also became a la mode, an enterprising private having included in his kit a barber's hair-cutting machine, with which he soon did a roaring trade, seating his victims on a stern staunchion, where the breeze conveniently carried the clipped hair aft and rendered the use of a covering sheet an unnecessary luxury.

Practice alarms (three short blasts from the ship's siren) were sounded frequently and gave the troops further exercise in promptly taking up their allotted boat stations.

The chart was being studied closely. No one, excepting the very few, knew the destination of the force, and the secret had page 34

Route taken by the Samoan Expeditionary Force, August, 1914.

page 35been well guarded. Matupi, the German coaling station off New Guinea, became a point of interest, and Samoa, lying well to the East, for a time fell out of reckoning.

Meanwhile, a written consideration of the matters affecting the plan of operations against the objective was being threshed out between the high commands, and various messages passed between the Senior Naval Officer and the O.C. Troops.

The permanent force known to be stationed on the Island of Upolu consisted of native armed police under European officers, but there was the possibility that marines, reservists, guns and armaments had been landed from the small warships that were reported to have been recently dismantled. There was also the possibility of German warships being in the vicinity of the port of Apia.

The German population of the Island was believed to number between 300 and 400 men of military age, and in all likelihood they had been organised to assist in the defence of the place. It was further known that heavy cases marked "machinery" had been unloaded at Apia some time previously.

In considering the plan of attack, it was anticipated that H.M. ships still to join the expedition would be sufficient to deal with any hostile warships in the vicinity, while the troops (provided they got safely ashore) would be able to cope with any land force the enemy would be likely to bring against them. The possible landing places appeared to be:—

Safata Harbour (South Shore), exposed to a southerly swell at the time of year—separated from Apia by a range of heavily-wooded mountains 3000 feet high and accessible only by fifteen miles of bridle track.

Apia (North Shore), provided a landing could be assured, would be the most effective and decisive. It was possible, however, that the resistance given by the enemy would be greater at Apia than anywhere else, for if they intended to resist they would certainly concentrate at the capital and wireless station.

Mulifanua (West Coast), at that time a regular anchorage for the Island steamers, where a narrow passage gave entrance through a reef. Being a regular calling place it would page 36no doubt be watched and the narrow passage lent itself admirably to mine-laying. It also was situated a distance of twenty miles from Apia, with which it had access by a good coastal road.

Vailele (North Coast), but lying close to Apia, also appeared to afford a desirable landing place.

Saluafata (North Coast), the best harbour in the Island, had attractions. It was situated ten miles East of Apia

Upolu, showing various points of contemplated attack.

with little information available as to the connecting road. The latter was believed to have been improved and to run through coconut plantations and across streams of considerable dimensions, but to be passable to troops.

Falefa, near Saluafata, also appeared to be a suitable place for effecting a landing, particularly in conjunction with a page 37landing at Saluafata, with which it was believed to be connected by road.

Bearing in view the facts that the initial object of the Force was to effect a landing, and that the troops were powerless until landed and deployed, and also that many of the troops were but partially trained, the proposal to obtain a footing on shore by making an attempt on two points simultaneously had to be carefully considered. Saluafata and Falefa being a convenient distance apart, and yet not so far distant that the two landing parties would be long out of touch, a scheme of landing from Transport No. I at Saluafata, and from Transport No. a at Falefa, came into prominence, the landing to be coincident with any operation conducted by H.M. ships against Apia itself.

The consensus of Naval opinion favoured a daylight landing at Vailele Bay, where the landing was good, with one cruiser supporting from Fagalii Bay and another from East of Vailele Bay.

But Vailele was only some three miles from the capital itself, and if fortified the transports and boats would be under effective gun fire. Even taking into account the supporting gunfire of the escort, it had to be remembered that the enemy guns would be concealed, and should fire be reserved until the first flotilla of boats were on the way, the latter could be wiped out before the Naval covering fire could become effective.

While these various projects were being fully considered the course bore steadily Northwards, the troops were quickly adapting themselves to the new life, and order and precision began to reign. All men were cleaned, shaved, and breakfasted, and bedding stowed by 7 a.m. Paint and brushes were issued, and all kit-bags marked with various blue dots and red bands to represent the different units. Several of the men had already cracked up under the new life, and were marked for return to New Zealand. The long trousers had become permanently discarded for shorts, tunics had given way to shirts, while coloured handkerchiefs were issued as a neckcovering. This remained the general uniform of the expedition. Detachments were also per-page 38mitted to sleep on deck when the weather was favourable—a blessed relief to those situated in the cramped spaces below, which were fast becoming unbearably hot. The first inoculation against typhoid was given, and this brought to light the ubiquitous conscientious objectors, who were promptly tagged for return to New Zealand at first opportunity. On the "Moeraki,'" Prjvate Carl Ifwerson, of the 3rd Aucklanders, developed acute appendicitis. An improvised operating table was erected in one of the cabins, and the first operation was neatly and successfully

Washing Day.

performed by Major Holmes and Captain Stout. A few days later he was on deck, a cheerful patient, and made a quick recovery.

The majority of the troops had now become quite at home on shipboard, and the rough seas on the 19th, which pitched the gunboats about in fine style were rather enjoyed. The weather, too, was becoming beautifully warm and balmy, flying fish became numerous and in their uncertain flights provided a new outlet for the instincts of the sporting element. For a space even the worst sailor found life becoming bearable once more.