New Zealanders' Share In Western Desert Battle

Northern Advocate, 26 December 1940, Page 5

New Zealanders' Share In Western Desert Battle

(From the Official War Correspondent attached to the N.Z. Expeditionary Force, in the Middle East, 'Mr. ißobin T. Miller.) WESTERN DESERT, December 24. |> Y THE CLEAR LIGHT OF A FULL MOON, THIS MESSAGE WAS WRITTEN AS THE LAST OF OVER 200 NEW ZEALAND TRUCKS DISCHARGING A LOAD OF WAR PRISONERS AT A NEARBY CONCENTRATION POINT, AND 500 DRIVERS AND RELIEFS, BEDDED FOR THE THIRD CONSECUTIVE NIGHT IN THE BLEAK OPEN DESERT.

The huge convoy of vehicles, drawn from the first line of transport resources of the New Zealand contingent serving in the desert, have just returned from a mopping-up expedition in the wake of the westward push by British troops.

Tt carried war material to a forward point, and brought back nearly 3000 prisoners from remote temporary depots.

This was the first, 'and so far the only, opportunity afforded New Zealand fighting units to partake in the advance, and for the drivers selected it was some compensation for the disappointment shared with all other troops who have been left out of the picture at the start of the offensive.

Thumbs Up.

When they sped westward to begin the expedition they passed a checking point with thumbs up and a broad grin of anticipation on every face. Slogans like “Skypu go-getters” and “Bring ’em back alive” chalked on the trucks reflected their high spirits. That was nearly three days ago, and ■tonight, after long hours at the wheel over trackless desert and through choking dust, nights of biting cold, and with scratch meals at odd hours, they seem to have lost none of their enthusiasm. Self-Contained Unit. The convoy was a self-contained unit, complete with workshops, doctor and navigators. “I journeyed at the head with Major J. Burroughs, of the Canterbury battalion, and Captain H. Parata, infantry brigade transport officer, who guided the column as if it were a convoy of ships at sea.” Once the few well-defined tracks were left behind they spread maps and compasses across their knees and turned almost imperceptible mounds and depressions into signposts that led unerringly to the point where, they were to dump a big load of vital war supplies. A Desert Greeting. Passing through the area, which, until recently, the enemy had charitably been allowed to believe he

dominated, we answered a greeting wave from New Zealand signallers attached to the advancing British forces, and later chatted with New Zealand army service corps drivers, who were veterans in the supply work in which we were being initiated. They had driven 2000 miles in the past few days. At dawn next day the convoy loaded the first prisoners, a small party of Italians held by a platoon of a famous English regiment. They included a sailor, who was violently landsick after a few bumpy miles. A Motley Crowd. We collected from two depots nearly 3000 more prisoners, of whom half were Italians of a good type. The remainder were a motley crowd of Libyan natives in shabby multicoloured clothing. They scrambled aboard the trucks almost eagerly, and at dusk were filing into this concentration area.

The scene here is one which the New Zealanders are never likely to forget. Dust from a thousand shuffling feet hangs like a cloud over the camp, of which half is bluish grey, with the uniforms of the true Italians, and half with a gaudy patchwork quilt, of Libyan colours. Strange tongues mingle in weird chatter rising through the still air.