“OLD COBBERS”

Hauraki Plains Gazette, Volume 51, Issue 3137, 29 June 1942, Page 5

“OLD COBBERS”

PAEROA R.S.A. REUNION

GREETINGS, HANDSHAKES

THE VALUE OF THE FUNCTION

(’By “Columbus”)

“See you at the R.S.A. reunion, R.S.A. on Saturday night. You goin’?” “R.S.A. smoko? Sure I’ll be there.”—and so on. Such phrases as these could be heard in Paeroa for some days before the “smoko.”

Yes, I went, too, in what capacity doesn’t matter. I had. been before —in fact I had been to several of them before in one place or another and mostly they are all the same. Each year one sees the same faces, a little older, a little greyer—perhaps a few new ones—but all the same object in view, to meet old cobbers, have a yarn and perhaps to get a little merry.

■We all knew what would happen. There would be music, some singing, reminiscences, only meant for that night. But still, we would . enjoy ourselves for wouldn’t there be the usual refreshments. On the tables would be biscuits and cheese and large bottles, a glass in front of each chair and later would come sandwiches and pies or perhaps fish and. -chips. The tables would be distributed all over the room, chairs and forms would be in the usual places and on one side a table, a little higher than the others, for the chairman and a few favoured guests with most likely a different sort of bottle on that table. A Bigger Crowd

'Well, yes, we knew what to expect. Except this time there would be a bigger crowd—we always said that. It sort of helped to make us believe it would be worth while being there. Anyway wouldn’t the the ranks be swelled by the newlyreturned soldiers.

And so, as usual, I was there. It was to start at eight, but like most functions of the kind it would be easily half past before we- got started and so it was. From eight till half past they kept rolling along, an ever-changing group outside the door gradually drifting in to stand around the inner door and make a start by accepting small glasses of refreshment. iSlowly they found seats, usually by spotting a friend somewhere. A veritable din pervaded the hall'. They were talking in groups, twos and threes and shouting across the room. The air was already thick with tobacco smoke. Whew! What would it be like when they got really going. One really entered to smoke and noise. Everywhere could be seen men shaking hands and slapping each other on the back and at the same time shouting greetings to all and sundry. “Hello IBill,” “Cripes, it’s : Andy. Haven’t seen him for years.” And so the greeting and hand-shakes went on. A Start Made The orchestra was on the stage tuning up. They, too, knew it would all be the same, judging from their remarks. They said to each other, “Been to dozens like this. Here’s yer music.” “Hope it’s like last year’s show”—and the noise went on until somewhere about half-past eight there was a feeling that things should be starting. The men found their seats a little faster, the talking died down a bit and the orchestra settled into their places. Then the chairman made for his table. A gong sounded once and then again—things became quieter—the chairman was speaking—something about enjoying ourselves and. that after the King the band would play. The gong and —“Gentlemen the King.” The orchestra stood up and played the King and the evening had started. The orchestra would play a “selection.” Everybody waited while the members held a whispered conference. The noise started to rise again —the gong went again. The conference resulted in the double bass retuning which started, all the others tuning up again. Eventually we had the “selection” and a march. A very creditable performance. The evening wore on to toasts while the noise increased. The usual rowdy individual was there and the singers gave their songs to ever-increasing demands for silence. The stewards came and went —so did the fish and chips. The air got thicker until some windows high up in the wall were opened.

Every Endeavour

A speaker’ rose to propose the toast of the returned soldiers of the last war. He started to speak as I sat hack and gazed around. The rowdy

one interjected and was politely told by the speaker, “Shut up you.” He shut up and the speaker went on. The crowd became silent and his words, quietly spoken, disturbed my thoughts. What was he saying? “ ... we should make every endeavour to encourage the returned soldiers of this war to join our association —not form ■a new one—and then when we aie too old they will, carry on this association . . .“ .Those words did have a deep meaning.

I gazed around again and my thoughts shifted on to ten years hence. The ones sitting here to-night would be getting on and the men from this war would still be young —would nearly foe the same as the ones around me to-night—and so I went on another year, two years, three four, five, ten and then what? There would he a new chairman, a new orchestra, a noticeable lack of old members. Too old now to come out or perhaps gone to the Valhalla of all soldiers.

And year by year the oldei' members would become less and less and we would stand in silence for them. The younger members drinking a silent toast to their fathers and we a toast to lost acquaintances. We would all go—in ones and twos each year until only the younger members remained and. they too would be waiting to pass on and God forbid that more wars should give us new members to carry on the R.S.A. Older and Greyer Mentally I saw them all getting older and greyer and giving way to the new members. Soon all of them would foe “men of the old brigade.” Mentally I saw that new generation coming to their reunion just the same as we came to-night and to “ - . . and I ask you to and drink the toast of the returned soldiers of the last war.” The speaker concluded and another toast was drunk.

Around me were the men of this brigade still ready to go shoulder to shoulder with the new but with the passing of years both present and new would join the old brigade marching in never-endipg glory to the rewards of their labours. Labour that has left a heritage of freedom.

Ah, well! ‘Back to earth again. We were just us and why chase after the future. Let’s live for to-day for tomorrow —who knows? Sparkling eyes and unsteady legs were still coming and going. Even the stewards were now taking their duties lightly and one of them filled my glass again and I drank to —the present. “Sine qua non” and l why not?