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18
In Reflective Mood

In writing this book I have, necessarily, and with differing degrees of pleasure and discomfort, relived those wartime years. It was not, of course, the first time I had done so.

On the long journey home from Suez in 1945, we had plenty of time to reflect and talk about the various campaigns we had fought in. What struck me most forcibly was the vast difference between our efficiency at the beginning of the war in Greece compared with the end of the war in Italy. In Greece we were sent like sheep to the slaughter, ill equipped and only partly trained and, thanks to the navy, we were saved from both Greece and Crete. The Germans had been preparing for war for seven or eight years while our side dithered. Their troops were highly trained and superbly equipped and, while we cowered beneath the olive trees, they flaunted their superiority in the air above us — it was particularly galling. Their aircraft, guns, tanks, radio and training were all vastly superior to ours and we felt we had been badly let down by our political leaders. In spite of all page 203 these inadequacies, we still had blind faith in our ability to win in the end. Why we thought so no one knows. Perhaps it was the power of good over evil which produced a conviction among our men that we would “beat the bastard”, even when the odds were overwhelmingly against us.

Gradually, as the war ground on, we were given better equipment and we learned from the Germans how to conduct a war. The one thing the Germans hated, and we increasingly excelled at, was night attack and I do not think historians and military planners have taken sufficient notice of this fact. For most of the first three years of the Second World War, the Allies lost every battle fought against the Germans. At Minqar Qaim in June 1942, the New Zealand Division staged a wholly successful breakout at night through the encircling Afrika Corp, the initiative of the New Zealanders proving to be more effective than the rigid discipline of the Germans. Our men proved they could cope with the unexpected.

Was night fighting the catalyst which finally turned regular defeats into a stunning string of victories? The night attack launched at Ruweisat in July 1942, under General Auchinleck, was a step in the right direction, but it was marred by troop movements in daylight during the build up, which were observed by Rommel, and by the inexcusable lack of co-operation from the Allied tanks during the attack. The infantry were successful, but the lack of tank support proved disastrous.

Learning from this, Montgomery planned the finally successful night attacks at Alamein, which proved to be the turning point in the war.

In Italy we were involved in many night attacks which, while successful, too often followed exactly the same pattern. Usually our opening barrage would co-incide with, or precede the start time and be followed by a creeping barrage as our troops advanced. The German mortars and artillery would retaliate page 204 immediately with uncanny accuracy, catching our men on the start line and creating chaos and confusion. Had the start time been advanced 10–15 minutes before the opening barrage, we would have had fewer casualties and earlier successes. Often the final objective was taken by small groups led by natural leaders without rank who had taken over in an emergency.

The Germans did not like night attacks and, when their chain of command broke down, they surrendered more readily. More than anything else, this highlighted the difference between Rommel's troops and ours. If our chain of command broke down, there was always someone prepared to take charge, carry on and eventually take the objective as planned. The kiwi is, after all, a night bird.

Time and time again, New Zealand Division conducted successful night attacks which were well prepared and superbly carried out by the troops. On many occasions I can recall our night attacks starting off badly with considerable confusion and reports of casualties and setbacks coming in early but, gradually, the tide would turn as the natural ability and sheer courage of our front line men turned chaos into success. On two occasions after successful night attacks on the Adriatic Coast, I sought permission to follow up fast without artillery support, catching the Germans by surprise before they could establish new gun lines. This saved us a great many casualties and resulted in good bags of prisoners.

When the History Channel recently broadcast a series of programmes on the history of warfare from the earliest times to the present day, it appalled me that no reference was made to night fighting. The final scene showed modern infantry in a daylight attack over open ground laden like donkeys with gear which would hamper their ability to fight.

They were so hopelessly overburdened and exposed that none of them would have reached the objective. Had they page 205 attacked at night with artillery and tank support, with engineers using artificial moonlight, and with armoured supply vehicles carrying reserve ammunition and food, backed up by helicopters and fighter bombers the following day there would have been some chance of success.

Close study of the evolution of the 2nd New Zealand Infantry Division under General Freyberg should be very rewarding for historians and for our military. Over a period of nearly six years of war many weaknesses were overcome and mistakes were rectified. We emerged as a very effective fighting machine with, as always in the history of warfare, the infantry being the final prevailing force. The politicians, the navy, the air force, the intelligence service, the artillery, the engineers, the tanks and all the other support personnel are there to assist the infantry to occupy territory. It is the infantry who should be in charge of the battle with all other ancillary personnel under their command.

The Germans used the technique of dropping supplies to their forward troops by parachute on to dropping zones marked by swastika flaps, which enabled the infantry to go into battle lightly laden. Armoured supply vehicles and helicopters could do this job more effectively. Our infantry should be regarded as elite troops and not as cannon fodder which has been the case in so many battles in history.

The natural leadership characteristic of New Zealanders was evident in many fields when our troops worked or fought alongside men of other nations. Whether it was unloading a ship, laying a railway line, building bridges, completing military courses, or fighting on the battlefield, our men excelled. We should all have great faith in our people, and all we need to make New Zealand the best place in the world to live is good political leadership combined with the natural ability of mainstream New Zealanders.

How could we not feel bitter about our pre-war politicians, page 206 and those in the British Government who had so criminally neglected our defence forces, when by the mid-thirties even laymen could see war was coming? Our political leaders have been responsible for the deaths of thousands of good men and have not been called to task. All our politicians should be held accountable for the security of our country. Our representatives have failed us badly and are probably worse now than they have ever been. They shoulder a huge responsibility in human lives, but do not seem to be aware of it. Expenditure on national security and defence has been cut to the bone at a time when we are being threatened with international terrorism which could escalate out of hand. The lives of our families are, these days, at risk as much as the lives of our troops.

Lord Baden Powell's Scout motto is as valid today as it was over a century ago: ‘Be Prepared’. As citizens and as politicians, we should all recognise the security of our country is paramount and should be protected. Had we been prepared, the Second World War would not have occurred because no nation will begin a war unless it believes it can win it quickly. The cost of a war far outweighs the cost of prevention and, had the Allies countered Hitler's military build-up, he would never have dared to wage war against us.

I shall always remember that, when the 22nd Battalion was formed in 1939, the regular army was able to spare only three trained soldiers to bolster our ranks of nearly 900 men. And our equipment consisted of leftovers from the First World fought 20 years previously.

Expenditure on security and defence should have the overall purpose of helping to prevent war or terrorism; in the case of a small nation like ours this can only be done in close collaboration with our allies. The ending of our involvement in the ANZUS alliance has had regrettable consequences and it is time to repair the damage.

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Not very long ago, our senior politicians, in response to requests for more funding for defence, were asking, “Where is the enemy?” One might just as well ask a fire insurance salesman agent trying to sell a policy, “Where is the fire?” Military spending is insurance against war. Switzerland has always been well-prepared for war and no country has dared attack it.

Today, New Zealand has troops serving in Afghanistan, Iraq, Bosnia, the border of Israel, the Solomon Islands, Sierra Leone, Angola, Cambodia and East Timor — nine different countries. Our enemies are international — can our politicians not see the wood for the trees? On April 16 2004, in The Dominion Post, the Chief of Defence did not mince words, his “We're too stretched” comments making banner headlines. In the past, military officials have been sacked for making such statements publicly, so the defence forces in New Zealand must surely be in a grim state.

Of course, the amount of money a small nation such as ours can spend on defence is limited. But the answer is not difficult. If all political parties would agree to spend an acceptable portion of the Gross Domestic Product, say 2% annually, on security and defence, their consciences would be clear and we would be a respected ally within the free world.

New Zealand's strength is in its people, not its exchequer, and this is where most of our defence funds should be spent. Young people should be attracted into the armed forces where they can be taught an appropriate trade as well as military skills. A four year term, with an obligation for future service, would produce well-trained personnel who could then be released into the workforce to help fill many of the gaps for skilled people New Zealand is experiencing today.

In company with naval or air force friends, we have often discussed who had the most dangerous job in war. I certainly would not have liked to be torpedoed in the middle of the page 208 ocean, although there were often rescue ships close at hand. Would I have lived had I joined the air force as a fighter pilot, as originally planned? Their chances of survival in the early days of the war were slim indeed. There was rivalry between the services as to which was the most important in the war. The air force won many important battles like the ‘Battle of Britain’, as did the navy, including the Battle for Crete, but only the army can win a war, which ultimately involves the occupation of territory. And who carried this out? Always the PBI — the poor bloody infantry!

Why did I survive when so many of my contemporaries died — many of them alongside me? I had been wounded four times and could have just as easily been killed. On at least five other occasions, I was knocked unconscious but managed to hang on to life. The evidence would indicate it was sheer luck, but I do believe that a hunter's instinct and a sixth sense of impending danger may have contributed.

As a platoon commander, I had thought this the most dangerous job of all. Leading patrols at night was a scary business and, in a set piece attack, a platoon commander had to set a good example under the close observation of his men. As a company commander, I had thought my exposure to danger might be reduced, but I soon found out I had three platoons to look after instead of one. One's presence in a sticky situation helped to bolster morale. Would it be safer as a battalion commander? I had fondly hoped so, but I soon found that, with more troops to look after, more sticky situations occurred and, believing the only way to be sure was to see for yourself, I found the job was no sinecure. In a battalion attack, the commander is on the job all the time — not for him the luxury of a night off in reserve, but time off for cat naps had to be taken or efficiency suffered.

The war in Italy was a most cosmopolitan affair. The New Zealand Division fought alongside Poles and Greeks, Indians page 209 and Canadians, South Africans and French, Britons and Americans and Moroccan Goums. The Americans, I believe, even had Japanese, Brazilian and Italian units fighting with them. Was there ever another army composed of men of such a diversity of nations? We, of the Eighth Army were proud of our reputation, spawned in the Desert and enhanced in Italy.

The New Zealand Division was very highly regarded by those under whose command we fought — the British, the Americans and the Canadians — and also by those against whom we fought, particularly the Germans. I also believe we left each country we fought in as lasting friends rather than as erstwhile enemies.