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Chapter XXIX Of How the New Zealanders Marched Into Germany

On 11 November the New Zealanders commenced to go back for the "King's Rest," a mythical holiday that the division had been promising itself for a long time. As the battalions moved they received word that the Armistice had been signed and that the fighting was over. The news was received without excitement. It had, of course, been expected. "Thank God the bloody business is over at last." And then slowly, as the shadow lifted, men commenced to talk of home and loved ones without the "if" that for so many years had darkened all bright plans for the future. Word came that the division was to form part of the army of occupation and that the men were to march to the German border. This news was received with mixed feelings. A trip to Germany was certainly something to look forward to, but marching long distances with full packs had never been a favourite pastime of the New Zealanders. Though tramping all day long over cobblestones or through slushy mud with an eighty-pound pack up is excellent for the health there were not many who appreciated the advantages of physical culture so carried out.

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When the line of march lay parallel with the railway, and cheering Tommies passed with glad shouts to the weary footsloggers, the atmosphere became distinctly thicker and more sulphurous. When the spirit is not willing the flesh has always a tendency to become weak. However, once the march was fairly commenced, it proved on the whole to be the best of good fun.

The route lay through the storied country of the Sambre and Meuse valleys. Every few miles the men passed some famous town—Jemapper, Valenciennes, Bavay, Maubeuge, Charleroi, Namur, Liège. Up and down this old road had gone the armies of William of Orange and Marlborough, of Napoleon and Blçcher and Wellington. The country was unmarked by ravage and the ancient towns were very fair to see. Each night saw the battalions in fresh billets—sometimes a great railway station with wooden floors for the lucky and asphalt for the remainder; or a factory, or some huge chateau that the Germans had stripped of wood to make their fires, and sometimes the barns of a little village. Friendliness was in the very air. | The liberated French and Belgians were overflowing with happiness and enthusiasm for the "brave British heroes." At Verviers there were marvellous scenes. For four years the inhabitants had lived as it were in Germany and through their streets had poured unending streams of men in field grey, singing German songs as they marched to the battlefields of the Western Front.

But now the tide had turned. In the last few page 313days the German men had repassed into Germany; many of them straggling, military discipline broken down; a great horde of men hardly any longer an army, anxious only to reach their homes. And now at their heels came unbroken men, with coloured pugarees round their slouch hats and the tread of victors. Lines of gay and high-hearted men who marched with the assurance of those "who were tolerably well known in the war." The whole town was in the streets. "Welcome, Tommy! We never doubted that you would come!" "Welcome to the brave British heroes!" Little boys begged eagerly for the privilege of carrying rifles. The girls laughed and blew kisses. Flowers were thrown or wreathed round gun-barrels and the horses' necks. The very limbers were decorated. There were gay jests and joyful weeping, and touches of old world solemnity as monsieur, bareheaded, bowed solemnly to "Monsieur le Colonel" riding on ahead of his men. There had been nothing like it since the men of the Main Body in the pride of their youth and strength marched through Hobart in the far away days of 1914.

Once across the German border the troops entrained at the little station of Herbesthal and proceeded to Ehrenfeld just outside Cologne, from where they crossed the Rhine by the bridge of boats and marched through the town to Mulheim and the surrounding villages. The German population came into the streets and watched with expressionless faces. Many of them were the men who had held the hosts of the Allies at bay for so long page 314a while. For them it must have been a bitter sight: but no doubt they were consoled by the knowledge that they had fought a great fight against a world in arms. The New Zealanders' main business was apparently to be impressive, with the result that guard-mounting soon assumed again something like the pomp and ceremony of Zeitoun Camp. Fraternization was strictly forbidden, but by degrees it became impossible to enforce the regulations with rigidity.

Fair-haired little Fritz was the beginning of it. He had been starved for chocolate and his national pride commenced to wilt before friendly men who offered him slabs of delight. His golden-haired little sister shyly took some, too, and friendship commenced to widen. With the women folk the New Zealanders rapidly became popular. Courtesy is a key that opens hearts the wide world over and the New Zealand standards of courtesy to women have always been high. When frau and the fräuleins found that the men in slouch hats gave up seats in tram-cars, opened doors, were not above carrying parcels or working the pump, they were at first a little suspicious, but when they perceived that such civilities were simply the outward expression of respect to themselves as women, they rapidly thawed and the billets became very friendly places. Many of the men were invited to dances and social functions and they went. If demobilization had not commenced rapidly and proceeded apace, there might well have been German war brides in New Zealand to-day.