The ODD ANGLE

Auckland Star, Volume LXXVI, Issue 151, 28 June 1945, Page 4

The ODD ANGLE

By MacCLURE

• "WE'VE GOOD HOMES OURSELVES - ' It is quite-evident from the City Council's rejection of the proposal to use the existing Army buildings in the Domain and Victoria Park that at least eleven of our councillors — those who voted against the motion —do not consider "an emergency" has arisen to render such a step ("an extraordinary step," the Mayor termed it) necessary. On the other hand, to the home-seeking folk in our midst, the rejection of the plan ( a real godsend if they'll only do it, one homeless aged couple called it) is already causing much bitterness. Some of the language used towards the rejectors is, to put it_ politely, not such as would be used in a lady councillor's presence. To me the action of the rejectors savours not a little of the "Im all right myself" attitude. But perhaps the rejectors are being busy finding an alternative. Shall we wait and see? Of course, having homes ourselves, it's easy for us to wait. ® PLENTY TO TALK ABOUT Last night an old cobber of mine, a returned Digger of the "last war" whose son has just returned from this "very last" war, dropped in to see me. Naturally, we found quite a lot to talk about (including that picture in the newspapers of "Anzacs at San Francisco," a picture showing Dr. Evatt and a Mr. Peter Fraser "discussing developments of the United Nations, etc., etc.") and talking about these things kept me up to a late hour. During the whole of our conversation, though, I could not help feeling that he had something on his mind that was troubling him a great deal, something he'd prefer not to talk about. Hours later, on posting a letter, I discovered him walking aimlessly about our almost deserted city. "It's no good me going home for a bit, yet" he blurted out, "I might as well make a clean breast of it, Mac, it's like this ." And then and there, late as the hour was, he told me the whole tragic story. This son of his, the one who went away and came back again, went away as an apprentice, in his late teens. He has returned, after four whole years of absence, still an apprentice, to an occupation he has grown to dislike thoroughly and— worse, a thousand times worse—to a New Zealand he doesn't recognise, where, as he put it, everyone who didn't go away is well dug in, has a banking account, a business of his own, a house of his own or has grabbed up all the handy-sized, easy-to-get-to sections, has his name down with some tobacconist and his home furnished with stuff purchased at pre, or at any rate, early-war prices. And, incidentally, has cleaned up on endless deals involving the one-time goods and chattels of those who responded to our nob.le patrioticspirited public men—many of whom, (you may remember some of their names) having made a few more or less "moving appeals" to our young men to enlist, dropped back into the throes of their own businesses. Again incidentally, he has come home to find a large number of the young married men of "his pre-war acquaintance, with much larger families and doing "not so bad, thank you, taking everything intoconsideration." I could quite understand all that myself, but just why it should keep his old ma., walking the streets till an early hour in the morning beat me. He explained this, though. -

• SONNY BOY ASKS SOME QUESTIONS "This boy of mine asks questions," he informed me, "tricky ones at that —load upon load of 'em. It's not a bit of good me going home until he's asleep. As soon as he wakes in the morning he starts shooting questions at his mother and me: 'Why don't you people do something about it, for your own sakes if not for the returning fellows?' he usually starts off with, and follows this up with an alphabetical list of our food.shortages, commodity shortages, following this up by quoting the present prices of clothes, tools, everything in fact, compared with when he went away. After that he has a go at the Divorce Court exposures as detailed by the Press, cutting out all the cases of infidelity on the part of oversea soldiers' wives, dragging in the rise our Parliamentarians gave themselves, the gas and power shortages, the j utter silence of our Parliamentarians now they're in, comparing their silence to-day with the propaganda distributed to him and his cobbers at election time. After that he demands an answer to the one matter that, as you know, is taboo—the coal shortage. Yesterday the missus foolishly sent him to order some, and they told him. they couldn't promise any for at least three months—'if then.' So what does he do?—goes and buys a radiator in the auction room for £2 15/, and we have to warn him he mustn't switch it on. I've got no tobacco to give him and he can't buy any. 'I can't make you people out—especially you returned men of the last war,' he ends up with. 'All that hooey about looking after the returning boys' interests, etc.— gah; the home-staying public's attitude about the blokes who've lost their limbs—and their sight—how are they faring? Do you know.—do you care? Does anybody? We did a hell of a lot of thinking' over there— and planning—and we heard a lot from visiting Government officials, but it strikes me they were all warned to put the soft pedal on conditions at home—perhaps they were afraid it would affect our morale.' The missus is trying to get a doctor's order to get him some eggs— we haven't had one since he's been back—and when he starts talking about pork and oranges and such like—well, it does look as if we've slipped up quite a lot. What d'you think, Mac?". I don't. Not now.