With the New Zealanders In England

Bay of Plenty Times, Volume LXIX, Issue 13141, 16 September 1940, Page 4

With the New Zealanders In England

In a letter to his wife and relatives. Martin Philip, of Mount Maunganui, who is now serving with the Second Echelon in England writes: This is being written in the Y.M.C.A. which is situated in the centre of a beautiful English village. We arrived here after a long train journey through the Island and were mighty glad to get settled once again. Our first job was to dig holes in which to hop in case of air raids which, however, don’t worry us much. Every time Jerry has come, | all he has achieved is to drop a pill i on an open paddock, and blow up a ' potato patch or something like that. , It is the summer here and everything 1 is at its best. I would have to be a real author to try and describe the * countryside. Little , country lanes wind and cross each other all over the place, and every few miles there is an old English village. These may only consist of an inn and a few.

houses. The lane will then wind on until another village turns up, every one of them typically old English. Two of us were out walking the other night and stopped at an inn to have a beer. We asked the innkeeper how long the place had been built, and he replied with a typical “ah, chum, a couple o’ hundred only,” yet the place was as sound as a bell, built of stone of course. When I say .we were out walking at night, I mean we left the camp at about 6 p.m. and arrived home just on 10 o’clock, yet it was still quite light. Seems very strange to us to look at the watch at nine o’clock and it’s still about the same as it is in New Zealand at 5 o'clock in the afternoon. The place I am in now is pretty, and about the size of Te Puke, but of course nothing like it. It’s not a bad place to spend a Sunday. During the afternoon we hired a canoe and paddied way up one of the old English canals, which are relics of the old days, and criss-cross the country everywhere. We passed all sorts of old places on the way and paddled about nine miles before we came to the first lock gate. ’These gates dam the canal up and after a barge goes through a series of them the canal continues on at a lower level for another few miles. Actually they are not used commercially nowadays. Last ’Wednesday we had our first leave so off to London I went for three days and nights. I stayed at a place called the Union Jack Club, right opposite the Waterloo Station in the centre of the city. The first day was spent just wandering round the main part of the city. We went to Picadilly Circus. This is really the hub of the world . . . crowds and crowds of people . . . hustle and bustle everywhere. From here we wandered down Shaftsbury Avenue into Charing : Cross, from there into Regent Street, Whitehall, and on into St. James Park, which is alongside Buckingham Palace. The Palace in

“LONDON IS A GREAT PLACE” PERCHING IN A SACRED SPOT

I itsetlf is a very uninteresting place, jOn our way back to the City via Rotten Row we were offered a lift. The people turned out to be really grand and drove us into the city and ! gave us afternoon tea in a fashionable West End cafe. Later on in the afternoon when we were in the Y.M.C.A. building at Westminster we were lucky enough to have tickets to the Princes Theatre handed to us. The show was a musical revue and comedy and I’ve never laughed so much in all my life. By the time the show was over London was blacked out and we had a h... of a job trying to find our way home. Well, next day we got an early start, and with-a sergeant from our section who knew London well we first went to Westminster Abbey, which is indescribably beautiful. The Houses of Parliament are just across the road from the Abbey, so they were our next call. Here a member

of Parliament showed us all over the buildings, through the House of Commons and into the House of Lords, in which there was quite a party, from which I managed to slip away and sit in the Speaker's chair, which is supposed to be V very sacred. Our guide told us we were definitely not allowed near it, but nevertheless

a dare from Bill made me perch myself up there. Big Ben, which adjoins Parliament Buildings, was the next call, and we climbed to the very top of it. We were in amongst the works of the clock when it struck twelve. It’s a wonderful piece of work . . . what a grand view of London from the top. The tower is only 300 feet high! I wrote my name on the face of the clock just above the letter six. From Big Ben we went to St. Paul’s cathedral, which is wonderful. I can’t describe the place. It’s immense. We climbed up to the whispering gallery and did a spot of whispering. It’s great how a whisper carries round that immense dome. From there we wandered down to the Tower of London, but unfortunately could not see through it. By the time all this Avas seen it was getting late, I so off to another show we went. This time it was ( “White Horse Inn” showing in the Coliseum Theatre. It cost us 3s 6d for a 10s 6d seat. Coliseum has the biggest stage in the world. Tfye whole affair revolves. There is no waste of time changing scenes. The curtain just closes and opens again and a new scene is on the stage. The next day was spent going through Madame Tussaud's waxworks. By jove that’s a great place. I made one mistake. I saw: a chap'sitting down reading a newspaper and thought he was a wax model, and was quite surprised when he moved. You don’t know which are models. Sitting in various places in the hall are wax models which one would- swear were real people, and only close inspection shows the difference. From here we. called into Regent Park and walked through the London Zoo, which was disappointing. Owing to the Avar quite a lot of good exhibits have been shifted.

The remainder of that day was spent just walking the streets in amongst the crowds of people. We had to catch the train back to camp that night, and in a way I was glad to get hack and have some rest, as I was tired out after three days in London. It’s a great place and now I’m living for the next leave, which •won’t be for some time yet. This week-end was spent in a little village about a mile from here. Typical old English .except for the soldiers about the place. The English people are very confident here, and they hold no fear of Jerry at all. Everybody is prepared for everything. The air raids so far haven’t done any damageto talk about. , 1 You’ve got no idea how r hard it is to write while in ca.mn. If I could orlv get some mail f”om home it might be easier.—-Cheerio.

The chap who had given his opponent twenty out of a hundred and run out without laying down his cue. put on his coat, lit his pipe, and started to talk about smoking. “There’s some blokes,” he said, “and IJcnow two or three, who smoke lor ten j minutes. Then they’ve had enough. Me, I like a smoke to last for two or three solid hours —and then some.” They all laughed. “What’s your tobacco, old sport?’ asked somebody. “Why toasted Navy Cut No. 3,” he replied. “I say I can smoke it for two or three hours at a stretch—yes, and enjoy every whiff.” Well, lots of men can do that (any number), if they smoke toasted- It contains no nicotine, you see, worth , talking about. It’s the real Mackay!—doesn’t .affect the throat, or the heart, either, for that matter. • For j a pure, mellow, sweet and fragrant smoke there’s nothing like the genuine toasted brands—there are just five of them —Navy Cut No. 3 (Bulldog), Cut Plug No. 10 (Sullshead), Cavendish, Riverhead Gold and Desi ert Gold.