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New Zealand's Part

In the War

By F. M. Hickey.

On the first day of August, 1914, very few New Zealanders imagined that within a few hours practically the whole world, and particularly themselves, would be plunged into the most desperate war ever conceived. We in this lonely outskirt of the groat British Empire were living the tranquil life, ignorant of the terrible plots being hatched in Hunland. We knew nothing and cared less. We were prepared for nothing, in the major sense. Then the bells rang out. The peals came like a thunderbolt upon the peaceful people of this Dominion. On that fateful fourth of August the news went round that Great Britain had declared war on the strongest national combine the world knew then—Germany and Austria.

Quick as a flash the situation was sized up here. The Hun territories near us were the first thoughts of the legislators, and in next to no time an army was formed and despatched to win a bloodless battle in German Samoa. The significance of that victory can be imagined when the exploits of the Scharnhorst, Gneisenau, Emden, and Wolff are recalled. Had Samoa remained in the hands of the Huns, it ran readily be conceived what immense damage could have been inflicted on our transports by raiders who would have sheltered, coaled, and victualled at Samoa, besides being able to keep in touch with each other per wireless, using the island as a rendezvous. Two of the enemy ships mentioned above did visit the island, but sailed away again without entering into a conflict.

Meantime arrangements were in train here to assist in the great struggle at the other end of the world. The military intelligence of the Dominion was organised, and camps filled with eager patriots were soon in full swing. Men sold up their businesses and farms and rushed to the colours, fighting and scheming to cheat the medical examiners if they possessed any physical defects that would debar them from being accepted for service. No one who witnessed the sight will ever forget that memorable morning when some eight thousand men sailed out of Port Nicholson under the escort of men-o'-war of the Allied Fleet.

Here we are, twelve thousand miles away from the scene of the conflict, and with a population of but a million; yet we sent to the great war one hundred thousand fighting men—warriors who have earned undying glory for our country by their magnificent deeds of valour, by their courage, and particularly by their discipline and self-restraint. Those men knew naught of war or soldiering: they were from the office and the farm; from behind the counter and from the bush. But what soldiers they made! The world to-day rings with the deeds of the New Zealanders. One has only to note the fact of the late visit of that great French military genius, General Pau, and remember what he said, to see the great name New Zealand now has in the world. And General Pau is not given to saying things he does not mean. He is the personification of sincerity.

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We had our ups and downs in the war. We met adversity fairly often, as the Roll of Honour denotes, some eight thousand of the flower of our manhood remaining behind on the sacred battlefields, silenced forever, but heroes still. We have also the maimed: he who has lost one or more limbs; he who has lost his sight, or his hearing, or his reason. It is our duty to tend those men, and not grow callous with the waning of the war excitement. They cannot forget their troubles.

During the great conflict there were doubtless many blunders committed by both sides. There always will be. What one has to do in these circumstances is to sit down and consider just for one moment the immense amount of responsibility resting on the shoulders of the head of the fighting forces. If he attempts a coup and brings it off successfully he is a magnificent hero; but if his effort fails he is a blundering idiot who should not be in charge of a handcart. So says the man in the street. As a rule that gentleman is somewhat intolerant.

Various arguments have been propounded and expounded regarding Gallipoli, where we were hit so hard, but not defeated. We came within an ace of winning, but the plum was thrust from us at the last moment. But we were not disgraced. Gallipoli was always declared impregnable, and the only way to win it was the way it was won—starve out the Turk. It is less expensive than an assault, from the point of view of man-power, munitions, and finance. The names of

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New Zealand and Gallipoli will ever he associated, just as the coined term "Anzac," the letters of which stand for Australian-New Zealand Army Corps, will for ever remain an illustrious item in British history.

Throughout the four years of strife our trade continued with the Motherland; and although we lost a ship or two, it could nearly be said that we escaped scathless. Not one of our transports was lost, which fact was undoubtedly due to the everlasting vigilance of the great and grand British Navy, about which sufficient can never be said or written.

The part played by the New Zealand Government in the war has been criticised in various circles for political reasons; but when it is considered where we are, how small we are, and what we have done, the Government of this country can, to use a colloquialism, pat itself on the back. The military heads of the Dominion throughout the war wore mainly drawn from civil life, but few being professional soldiers, and the magnificent material they turned out to fight for the preservation of the rights of the weak will redound to their credit for evermore. Schoolmasters and merchants, farmers and lawyers, clerks and labourers, all combined to equip a force second to none in the whole world. And they were eminently successful in the great mission they undertook.

God Save the King!