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Stepping Stones to the Solomons: the unofficial history of the 29th Battalion with the Second New Zealand Expeditionary Force in the Pacific.

Chapter Nine — The Road Back

page 72

Chapter Nine
The Road Back

Rumours about the future movements of the battalion once again began to fly thick and fast. There were a couple of false alarms for further moves up the islands, but New Zealand for a rest seemed the best bet. It had always been done with American troops. Yet, even so, there was a doubt.

Although all paragraphs, articles and editorials in the New Zealand papers were studied for reference to possible movements of the troops in the Pacific, it was with little hope. The 29th had lost faith in their press. They had been more or less ignored in Fiji, lavished with imaginary tropical delights and comforts in New Caledonia and transformed in Guadalcanal into lean, bronzed and hardy warriors with blood in their eyes. They had, it seemed, landed on Mono like a pack of wolves. The men liked none of these extremes.

They were not enamoured of the Pacific. In addition to this— New Zealanders make impatient soldiers—many felt they were doing little good. Doomed it seemed to the dull monotony of garrison duty or of labour battalions, they felt their place was in the Middle East or in New Zealand. Repeatedly the press—generally quoting someone who should have known—promised them just that. Probably the troops should have been grateful to the papers for the campaign in their favour; but the effect it had upon them was to see-saw their hopes bitterly.

So the battalion tramped the hills, unloaded ships and rolled drums of gasolene, looked at the coconut palms with a dislike that grew daily more personal—and waited. Only after five months on the island— months of manoeuvres, boat building, handicrafts and perspiration— did they learn their fate.

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At a parade at the theatre on Easter Friday the colonel read out an order that farm workers and those in other essential industries were to be withdrawn from the division. After that the unit just crumbled. The first draft of men to go back were notified on 15 April and left on 26 April on board the President Munroe. It was obvious that nothing remained for the rest of the unit but await the day when another transport pulled in. Extensive training was out of the question—and there was still the hope that when action did come again it would not be in the jungle. However, shooting practice continued on a large scale and a series of courses designed to give everybody a knowledge of specialist work were started. But it was only a case of filling in time until the inevitable happened.

As usual, once the time came for the main body to move, every thing happened in a hurry. Everyone knew about the move before it was announced. The process of laying in a stock of cigarettes for the lean days speeded up. Owners of yachts had their last excursions on the harbour before turning the craft at good prices, over to eager American buyers. The quartermaster's store was full of clothing that had just arrived after months of waiting. Captain Seton could not give enough jungle suits away. Courses on mortar, signals, RAP and intelligence work folded up, only half completed. Short work was made of a substantial issue of beer. In a last minute effort the church was completed.

Because of accommodation difficulties a small party of officers travelled on the Tyron, an auxiliary ship, which left on Monday, 15 May, four days before the rest of the battalion. The main body spent its last night on Stirling and left on the Mormachawk on the evening of Friday, 19 May. The Treasuries faded into the evening, looking very much the same as when they had come out of the gloom of a dawn, over six months before. A magnificent sunset hung in the sky. Above Mono a dark cloud moved slowly to the west. Rain would be falling on Falamai. The men smiled at the thought and looked again at the dwindling hills. This was what they had long wished to see—Mono disappearing to the north. It looked beautiful that way.

An amazing place, this New Caledonia. The battalion, which had been pleased to get out of it, was glad to get back. There was life in the air after the perspiring heat. The eye was no longer cramped by encompassing trees; the hills by day and the sky by night were page 74wide open to view. There was something comforting in the fact that had there been a Jap prowling on the heights one could have seen him—no search parties would have been necessary. It was surprising, too, to find that the cattle down by the streams, the broad expanses of grass, even reaching beneath the tents, the long roads that led somewhere—all these things had something of beauty in them. Even the niaoulis were not so repulsive. If New Caledonia looked like this, what must New Zealand be like.

Everyone experienced—and recovered again from—the shock of seeing a white woman. The 2YA concert party drew enormous crowds an estimated 5000 crowding the open air theatre at the first performance after the arrival of the 8th New Zealand Brigade. There was a certain amount of work to be done at camp. Tents had to be shifted, drains dug—all the old story. But there was plenty of recreation. The attractions of the Bourail Club and the Kiwi Club, dips in the surf and warm showers, picture shows and more concerts—all combined to make life at Tene Valley a real change for the better. All this time the farmer drafts which had come down a month before were trudging the roads with newly issued battledresses and greatcoats, and in small batches were slipping away south. Bound for New Zealand—the name had something magical about it.

At last, at the beginning of June, the first small leave draft took truck for Noumea, bound for New Zealand. As the month went by, slowly for men who had again wearied of New Caledonia, the move grew faster, speeded up still more in July and reached a climax in August, when the mosquitoes were starting to multiply again around Bourail and the new grass was climbing into the crispness of a New Zealand spring.

So the 29th Battalion came back again, not complaining of an uncomfortable journey, not caring when the wind and rain beat upon them as they turned into Waitemata Harbour, not chafing when speeches of welcome seemed a little too long, not quite knowing how to express their gratitude to an army organisation which really organised them, quickly and without fuss, to the gates of their homes. Two days-leave for every month of service overseas meant ample liberty to work the islands out of one's system, particularly for anyone who had been in Fiji. During that time few gave really serious thought to what the future might bring. To those who did wonder the position did not seem very clear. Although there were stories that the page break
An Allied cemetery occupied a corner of the former village and here the New Zealand flag the Stars and Stripes were displayed side by side. The native church was built close by and facing the beach.

An Allied cemetery occupied a corner of the former village and here the New Zealand flag the Stars and Stripes were displayed side by side. The native church was built close by and facing the beach.

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This panoramic view of Bourail Beach shows the Kiwi Club and the fine expanse of sand and surf where many thousands of soldiers took their ease at weekends. The beach was within easv reach of base camps in and around Bourail and the club provided meals served by WAACS Below is a view of St. James's Theatre in the 29th Battalion area on Mono. Like all other jungle theatres coconut logs made unresisting but reasonable seating accommodation. On the opposite page is a view of the Bourai! Club, in Tene Valley, which claimed to be the largest bure in New Caledonia and the meeting place for every New Zealander in the area

This panoramic view of Bourail Beach shows the Kiwi Club and the fine expanse of sand and surf where many thousands of soldiers took their ease at weekends. The beach was within easv reach of base camps in and around Bourail and the club provided meals served by WAACS
Below is a view of St. James's Theatre in the 29th Battalion area on Mono. Like all other jungle theatres coconut logs made unresisting but reasonable seating accommodation. On the opposite page is a view of the Bourai! Club, in Tene Valley, which claimed to be the largest bure in New Caledonia and the meeting place for every New Zealander in the area

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Distances were great in the Pacific. This map indicates the Third Division's long lines of communication and gives a clue to Pacific air routes

Distances were great in the Pacific. This map indicates the Third Division's long lines of communication and gives a clue to Pacific air routes

page 75Third Division was to be maintained, it was hard to see where the men would come from, and the activities of a rear party in New Caledonia in shipping all ammunition and stores back to the Dominion indicated that the Necal story, at leasts had reached its last chapter.

When the troops returned to camp at the end of their leave, however, it was apparent that not even in high circles had any definite decision been reached. There followed almost two months of desultory activity, including a gorsegrubbing venture which aroused a lot of feeling, before it became plain that the bulk of the force would go to making up reinforcements for the Second Division, now fighting in Italy.

By this time, in September, the battalion was well split up. A number of officers, including the commanding officer, Lieutenant-Colonel F. L. H. Davis, and other ranks were still in New Caledonia as part of the force rear party. Others were at a camp at Mangere clearing unit equipment, bringing records up to date and acting as watchdogs for a substantial residue of battalion funds. Many of the men were still on leave and the remainder in Papakura were not enough to make up a platoon.

As it happened the 29th Battalion was destined not to function as a unit again. Although the headquarters was still in existence at Mangere the men were under the control of an infantry pool, and before the last of the rear party reached New Zealand in the middle of October a further dispersal had taken place by which everyone was returned to the main camp nearest his home. The final blow came in an announcement that as from 1700 hours on 20 October, 1944, the Third New Zealand Division Headquarters ceased to function.

As personified by its headquarters, the 29th Battalion lingered on until January 1945, when it faded away in traditional style to become but a memory—but one deep etched by experience, good times and bad, jokes, grumbles and comradeship into over two thousand minds.