BACK TO CAMP

Evening Post, Volume XCI, Issue 55, 6 March 1916, Page 8

BACK TO CAMP

LAMBTON TO TRENTHAM

"All tickets, please! All tickets,

please! "

The voices of the collectors ring out over the tread of heavy military boots and the occasional jangle of spurs. The long line of carriages is standing at the Lambton Station, and none but soldiers may travel therein. The men are going back to camp after an evening's or a day's or a week's leave. It is evident that they are in fine condition physically ; it .is also evident that they are under most reasonable discipline, apparently enforced by nobody in particular.

For a week the writer Avitnessed the departure by the night trains of the men who had been spending their leave in the city, and he closed the period of his investigation at a late hour on Saturday night with a firm and solid belief in the mental and physical solidity of the New Zealand troops, whom he saw at a time when there was more opportunity for display of weakness than probably at any otlier hour of the twentyfour. .

" Tickets, please ! " and a big, hefty private blocks up tho narrow gangAvay and turns his pockets inside out in a vain search. " i know I have one somewhere," he says, and he takes off his cap as an expression of bewilderment. He discovers the ticket in the lining. His troubles about the dozens of men behind him—a living tide blocked by his solid mass of forgetf illness! "Ticket, is it? Here you are.' It's the last you'll get. We're going away to fight. Kiss me, Charlie! " And before the ticket collector can realise what is happening he has been soundly bussed on each side of his collar. "Thank goodness he missed the mark," tho collector ejaculates fervently, and philosophically sings out, " Tickets! All tickets, please ! "

"Tickets, please ! Don't keep everybody waiting," says the collector to another man. "Good-bye, old girl; you'A-e got my address," is tho reply, addressed to a lady at the other side of the barrier. " Write as often\ as you can, and let me know how you' are all getting on. D—— the ticket! Here you are. Sorry to have kept you waiting, but—you know. Good-bye, old chap." And the collector says " Good-bye " in. the same tone. " Lot's have a dance," says some lighthearted squaddy. And in one minute half a dozen " couples" are waltzing (and in many cases waltzing very Avell indeed) up and down the platform to the strains of a mouth-organ. In many a carriage, dimly—too . dimly—lighted, popular songs are being sung; the air vibrates with choruses, and just before the time for leaving the atmosphere becomes almost electric.

"Picket, attention!" A lieutenant is giving the order, and the men fall in readily. " Keep guard over that carriage. Let nobody in." "Engineers, attention ! You go along there. Quick march ! Steady now ! " The discipline is excellent, and the long line of coaches moves out from the platform, with from 1000 to 1200 men, whoso blood runs strong in their veins, whose spirits are high, and whose chief occupations appear to be the singing of songs, the drinking of mineral Avaters, and the consumption of huge quantities of fruit.

Are any of them drunk? Yes. Are many of them drunk? No. Generally speaking, the man who has taken too much liquor is carefully looked after by his mates, but a week's experience goes to show that he is an exception, and in only one or two cases Avas he in the slightest degree prominent. In no case was he a nuisance, and in no case did the civil or military police feel called upon to interfere. In some cases sheer exuberance of spirits might have led to an assumption of insobriety. But "drunks" were very few and far between. Generally speaking, there was not much encouragement for the man who had indulged overmuch. He was treated kindly and with consideration, but he was in strong hands, which put him and kept him in his proper place. If he turned " nasty " —well, iavo could play at that game.

It is no procession of angels that files into the Lambton Station night after night en route to Trentham. It is a procession of hard, tough men, representing all classes of the community, who have voluntarily surrendered themselves to the discipline of a military camp, who have been let off the chain for a few hours, who have used their liberty as their fancy led them, and who know perfectly well that,' however they may feel in " the morning after the. night before," the only refresher they can look for is a bucket of cold water and a long day's work at soldiering, and under present-day conditions a hard day's work soldiering at Trentham is all a healthy man wants. One word more. The manner in Avhich the railway officials and the civil and military police handle their men is beyond praise.