CITY GIVES OPEN-ARM GREETING TO TROOPS

Auckland Star, Volume LXXIV, Issue 164, 13 July 1943, Page 2

CITY GIVES OPEN-ARM GREETING TO TROOPS

In its first glimpse of the "furlough" boys of the Second N.Z.E.F., returning triumphant from war, Auckland let down the barriers of its habitual reserve and enfolded them in mothering arms. Not since the homecoming of the first Anzacs has there been such a release of emotion as was witnessed at the Newmarket station this morning when the first troop train passed tnrougn. Most of the troops did not even belong to the city—but that made no difference. Pent up during the three and a half years while these boys have passed through ordeal after ordeal, their gallantry undimmed, on to the glory of the Tunisian victory, pride could no longer be contained in silence. So, when the North Auckland contingent, first group of these heroes to be seen on the homeward journey, made their Auckland stop at Newmarket, the crowd which packed the station raised such a cheer that the thunder of the engine was submerged. As one, that crowd rushed the train and there were wild scenes of enthusiasm as the soldiers leaped down into the throng to be seized and hugged and kissed. Home Coming For some of the boys Auckland was home . . . home, at least, in the sence that here was mother, or wife, or sweetheart with a warmth of greeting that would wipe from the mind all that had passed in the years since they last were together. There were swift excited cries, laughter and tears coming together, and embraces that held and enfolded. To. such a greeting one soldier flung-'himself through the open window of his carriage, to land, catlike, on his feet before a wife who held in her arms a suddenly shy little girl. This was "Daddy" . . . and here was Gwendoline, little more than three, to greet him. for the first tims.

And in the way of children, excited beyond measure, Gwendoline clung to mother—and cried. Mostly these men were packed on the platforms of the carriages to descend in a crowding, crushing body upon the station. Many of them were Maoris, heroes of so'many irresistible bayonet charges in Greece, Crete and Libya, now laughing, eyes gleaming, excited as children at their first treat. It was one with many such scenes they had witnessed since they left the ship yesterday to board this train, but it was as new as ever. Lcmiie Comes Back One there was who ran forward from the train through the crowding people, to stop hesitating. Here was one who expected to be greeted by loved ones . . . but the crowd was so dense. Then, suddenly, even over the din of greetings in hundreds there came a shrill, throbbing cry . . . "Lennie! Oh, Lennie . . . There's Lennie!" Ttfiere was an upheaval in the crowd. It parted, as the grasses part to emit a startled partridge, and from it burst a thin little greyheaded Maori woman. Her feet left the platform as she flung herself in his arms to cling there with an abandon of mother love that was unheeding of the throng about. They were everywhere about such scenes. Human, over-acted scenes—for emotion on occasions like these knows no restraints. Some of these people had been waiting since 4 a.m. The train was due at 6.18, but a slip on the line, and the multitude of welcomes along the way delayed it, and it did jiot reach Newmarket until nearly 8'.30. By then the crowded station was tense with excitement. Twice, as the minute of arrival drew near, there were false alarms. "Here it is," someone would cry, and the crowd, pent in the small station, packed on the stairs of the overhead bridge, and

lining even the rails of the bridge itself, swept forward to the platform edge, with uprising cheers. And twice the crowd found itself greeting suburban trains, with their loads of workers bound for the city . . . the cheers fading and being overcome by laughter. But when it did come there was no mistaking it. Troops hung from windows and platforms, and their yells caught the ear for a moment before being swallowed up in the din of cheering from the station. Then all was confusion. The warning bell rang twice before the train could go on its way again, and then it had to be chased by many soldiers to whom the minutes had been fleeting seconds of excitement. Welcomes at Every Station It had been like this at nearly every station on mat long journey, which started early yesterday afternoon. There was not a settlement, however small, which had not had its delegation of welcome, and this carried on throughout the night. None of the troops had had any sleep, but they were worried by that. "Plenty when we wore on the boat," they salfl, "ana we will get in some more at home." At many stations along the route members of the returning party had left the train, and "They did them proud" ... as one soldier put it. At three stations, Taihape and Taumarunui among them, there were bands out, and at Frankton Junction, where they breakfasted, the Maori boys were given a special greeting. Maoris from the surrounding districts were on the station in numbers and throughout the stay there entertained the troops with ■hakas and songs of welcome. "Nothing we have been through so far has touched this," said one First Echelon veteran. "We knew we would be welcomed, but we could not guess even that we would be given such a welcome." He looked up as he spoke to whei-Q, between the train top and the station verandah a glimpse of sun was coming, and then, with a grining look about. . . "It's good to be home," he said. "I guess I'll know even more about it when I get back home up north. Bit of an ordeal, isn't it? But I guess I'll survive. I can take a lot of this."