RUSH TO ARMS.

Auckland Star, Volume LXIX, Issue 224, 22 September 1938, Page 7

RUSH TO ARMS.

AUCKLAND SCENES.

CRITICAL DAYS RECALLED.

WAR ALARMS IN 1022.

Dark clouds hang over Europe again, and the world waits tensely. But as you walk down Queen Street a friend calls laughingly to you across the footpath: "Enlisted yet?"

You might remember other days when that question would not have been asked in jest. The European sky was

gloomy, too, in August. 1914, and in September, 1922. In 1914 the storm broke; in 1922 it drifted away; but on both occasions that query, 'Enlisted yet?" would have been asked in all seriousness. Newspaper files show how in both those yeans men, and women as well, converged upon the defence headquarters in Auckland even before a call was made.

Austria was launching an attack on Belgrade when the month of August, 1914, began; but in the House of Representatives at Wellington the Prime Min. ister, the Rt. Hon. W. F. Maasey, was reassuring. "So far as I can judge from the information that has reached us there is no occasion for serious alarm. . . ." Yet he did not overlook the worst possibility, and announced that preliminary arrangements had been made in the event of a Xew Zealand contingent being required by England. This was enough to put Auckland in a ferment of excitement. Newspapers of the day recalled the enthusiasm of the Boer War years—"the many efforts to deceive the judges of shooting and riding: the hurried way in which keen candidates for military honours crammed much practice in these manly arts into a few days, at infinite bodily pain and stress. ..." Air Was Electrical All through the evening of August 4 large crowds awaited the latest news in Queen Street. The air was electrical. "On one occasion," it was recorded, •'when an anti-militarist waxed sufficiently bold to declare that he would rather go to gaol than fight for his country, the gathering of civilians broke forth into patriotic songs which effectually silenced the advocate of 'peace at any price' and any kindred spirits that might have been hovering round."

On the afternoon of August 5, when the Governor, Lord Liverpool, announced that Britain had declared war, the pentup feelings of the crowds which thronged the city streets gave way in frequent outbursts of enthusiasm. As evening came the feeling grew more intense, and groups of young men, waving Union Jacks, marched up and down Queen Street, cheering and singing national airs.

At nine o'clock, when an announcement was posted at the "Star" office that the Government had decided to call for volunteers for active service, there was a remarkable scene. A crowd of at least I.jOO men, marching up Queen Street, reached the Shortland Street corner just as a cheer from those waiting outside the "Star" office greeted the message. Immediately the crowd in Queen Street stampeded up Shortland Street, and wild enthusiasm was witnessed.

j So keen was the rush of volunteers next day to enrol in the force for home defence or for service abroad if required that by noon more than 1000 applications had been received. These were apart from those which would come through the recognised channels from members of the territorial forces.

The proclamation posted early that morning eet out that failing a sufficient supply of volunteers from territorial sources, applications from others with military experience would be entertained. Under this clause a constant stream of young men called at the office of the group commander. The supply of application forms ran out by midday, and clamorous demands were made for more. Going Into Action. Within a few days the news came that New Zealand volunteer soldiers would have "the honour and responsibility of going into the zone of active operations." The response made to the call for volunteers had been far in excess of the best expectations. There seemed to be an all-enveloping wave of patriotism and self-denial sweeping over the country, and the general result, it is recorded, gave promise of "something really worthy of this remote part of His Majesty's possessions.

The war dragged on. Peace came; but in September, 1922, its preservation was threatened by the Turks. Full return of pre-war territory was their demand. The Straits of the Dardenelles were menaced. Troops began to move. History repeated itself with New Zealand's prompt offer to send a contingent if Britain thought it necessary. On September 18, 1922, a reporter from the "Auckland Star" who visited the headquarters of the Northern Command was greeted with this exhortation:

"For goodness sake put a notice in the 'Star' saying that we know nothing about the matter, and that it is not the slightest use any recruits coming here until the Government says what it is going to do and definite orders are issued."

As soon as the doors were opened men had begun to turn np to offer for service. And they didn't seem to care much where it wu. The scene, according to the reporter, was quite enough to show that the old enthusiasm was anything but dead. There were even three nurses in the crowd that besieged the office. It was the same all over New Zealand.

But later that day it was announced that the names of volunteers would be enrolled at the Drill Hall, and by two o'clock next afternoon there were tome 2000 names on the roll. It was just like the 1914 days all over again.

There was a big difference, though. The crieis passed. The men went back to their jobs.