FIRST WORLD war A NEW ZEALANDER’S EPIC

Press, Volume CII, Issue 30278, 2 November 1963, Page 3

FIRST WORLD war A NEW ZEALANDER’S EPIC

(Reviewed by aJU Gallipoli T. The Smum. Becolleetton® of a New Zealand Infantryman Bv Alexander Aitken. Oxford Inlveraity Press. IM pp. In his introduction to this nook. Sir Bernard Fergusstai. Governor-General of New tealand, pays tribute to the *riter, Professor Alexander , Graig Aitken, and compares i ' jP‘S “Recollections’* with Edywiund Blunden's classic of, fthe First World War, “Under- ' tones of War.” Sir Ber-' nard Fergusson, a writer! distinction on the fight- j ing m a later war and in other lands, must be ac-i counted a connoisseur of the literature of military memoirs and of personal reminiscences of wartime days. When, there- 1 fore, he says that he found! Aitken’s story "deeply moving" a«d writes: ’There are no heroics in ‘Gallipoli to the: Somme,’ and the writing is restrained; but I believe that many others besides myself will rate it, with ‘Undertones of war,’ as an epic of devo-, tion and sacrifice,” he will] surely inspire many citizens in this country to read this important chapter in the life-! story of a distinguished New i Zealander. Professor Aitken, now Professor of Mathematics in the! University of Edinburgh, a Fellow of the Royal Society,: and a man with a fantastic memory and incredible. pow’ers in mental arithmetic.! was bom in Dunedin in' 1895. He was only 20 years Of age when he left Trenthani with the 6th Infantry Reinforcements on his way to Egypt and Gallipoli. His war service, during which he rose from the ranks through the grades of N.C.O. to become an officer and platoon commander. lasted little more than one year. In late September. 1916. serious wounds in both his arm and his foot ended his campaigning and he was returned to New Zealand. As he tells us in a prefatory note, the first draft of this book was written from memory in Dunedin between April s and September. 1917. Two friends, frequently mentioned in its pages, certified the accuracy of the contents which the author revised and put into chapters in 1930. Last year be revised it again, while still offering it as "a faithful presentation of my own small part in the war of 1914-18. and of my feelings at the time.” It is typical ot the modesty of the man that he should have refrained from publishing this autobiographical account of his experiences in the period August, 1915, to September. 1916. till 1963. This account of one man’s war is a smaU masterpiece. I w-hich will make him well I known to many who have no: knowledge of his great repu-, tation as r mathematician: and as the,author of works! on various branches of | algebra and statistical mathe- : matics. Although he refers! to his "unskilled pen.” he is. able with superb economy ot words to transport his I readers quickly from Tren- i tham to Zeitoun on the Suez Canal and to Gallipoli.! that “narrow, ridgy, barren j peninsula, the tail-end of Europe, probably a magnified edition of my own Otago Peninsula, sun-baked and unhealthy of late.” Professor Aitken gives a vivid description of the sad state to which those who were left of the Main Body had been by five months on Gallipoli without relief. He shows himself to have been much more than the student of mathematics: “steeped in

the Aeneid” and with a feeling for the past, he touches lightly on the civilisations which have come and gone on Lemnos and other islands in rhe Northern Aegean. But it is as a narrative descriptive of a sensitive scholarly man’s reactions to the brutalities of war that this book will live. While he never exaggerates the discomforts and hardships of the infantrymen in the blizzard of November, 1915. on Gallipoli or in the trenches in France, he knows from personal experience that the “traditional emollients” and

phrases used by “such a noncombatant poet as Tennyson” can never restore the glamour of war to those who saw action in the front line as he did. The man who emerges from these pages is conscious of the moral and ethical problems which arose from the slaughter of thousands on the Western Front. But while commenting on “tbe insane paradox” of having every energy devoted to killing by the soldiers and of having equal eflor; exerted by medical officers and stretcher-bearers to preserving human lite “with no favour or distinction of nationality,” he himself courageously continued to do his duty. He felt the loss of his comrades both sincerely and deeply, recording their deaths with grief, especially when they were "mature, responsible, generous, and brave.”

Most of Aitken’s personal , friends were men of fine 1 character and admirable records. Probably none had a better record than James Har--1 gest. Aitken’s Company commander in 1916. who became a Brigadier and the commander of 5 Infantry Brigade in the Second ’World War. But one could wish he bad givnp the full name to Private S—whose exploits should be better known “Private S , a more or less permanent inmate of the clink (not for moral faults but from a congenital recalcitrance to discipline), had asked to be given some remission of punishment by taking part in the raid. He was wounded, but went back over the parapet at least a dozen times, bringing in a wounded man each time, and at dawn had to be restrained by main force—a hot-tempered and impulsive man—-from going out again.” Professor Aitken’s descriptions of the build-up preparatory to an attack and of the nervous excitement which is generated in the period of waiting could not be improved upon. He is critical of the falsely optimistic communi-

ques but knows bow valuable to morale are the careful briefing of all ranks and the explanation of a plan which has taken care of all foreseeable contingencies: “Such thoroughness bred confidence everywhere; there seemed every chance of success.’’ Although he holds his active service to have been ‘‘sligbt. unimportant and uneventful compared with that of hundreds of thousands of others who went through such things over and over again, who saw three or four years where I had seen less than one,” his own record does him great credit. That he was appreciated by his fellows may be gleaned incidentally from his

comparison of food in the sergeants' and officers’ messes: “On the last evening. August 28. of my ' nonc mmisstoned rank the sergeants' mess of file 10th Company, buying two ducks, paid a French mademoiselle several francs to roast and serve these as pert of a dinner a la francaise in mj- honour, of four or five courses, and wonderful it seemed, and voice and violin suitably responded. By comrxrtscm the cereals of the officers’ mess with the +th Otagos next morning were frugal and austere ”

What Sir Bernard Fergusson terms the " obbligato to this bock” i$ provided by the saga of Aitken's violin, which is mentioned, usually with affection, on no fewer than 22 pages. Smuggled ashore at Gallipoli, taken well forward at Armentieres and other sectors of the front in France, it is now a treasured possession of Otago Boys’ High School where it is to be seen in a glass case in the front hall, a reminder of the gallant owner’s connexion with that school and “of the service and sacrifice of New Zeaiandlers in the First World War.” Professor Aitken’s feats of I memory have become something of a legend in this country. His ability in this direction is well illustrated In his book. For example, he tells how after a battle he was lying on the floor of the company headquarters when he heard Captarin Hargest and others discussing the problem of providing a casualty return for No. 10 Platoon, the roll-book ot which had been lost. ‘‘Speaking from the matting I offered to dictate the details; full name, regimental number, and the rest; they were taken down, by whom I do not know.” In a footnote, the modest author states: “In later years this incident, Ito which I attached no importance, was much exagger- ' ated by legend; as late as i 1933 I met it again, with the platoon expanded to a bat- ! talionj” “Ga&ipoli to the Somme" I has a freshness which can 'only be described by saying i that it reads as if it were I written today about the ! events of yesterday. It is I definitely a book to read, not to be read about.

Thousands of books must have been written on PUBLIC SPEAKING but one of Foyle's handbooks with this simple title has a new approach. John Radcliff begins with an engaging chapter on “turning nerves into elation,'' describes the development of a pleasant and powerful voice, and preparing what the audience will want to hear. All this, he says, is as important as actual articulation. Personal attitudes will determine audience attitudes.