AUCKLAND'S WELCOME.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LII, Issue 16021, 13 September 1915, Page 4

AUCKLAND'S WELCOME.

ARRIVAL OF THE TRAIN.

MANY HAPPY MEETINGS.

GREAT CROWDS IN STREETS.

* The fact that a further batch of wounded soldiers from the Dardanelles were to arrive in Auckland yesterday afternoon brought thousands of citizens into the city streets, early in the afternoon. The weather was clear, with brilliant sunshine and a light breeze, which was just fresh enough to stir the bunting with which the streets and approaches to the railway station were decorated. The National Reserve, under Brigadier Baragwanath and BrigadeMajor Hall Skelton, paraded at the corner of Customs Street East and Commerce Street at 1.30 p.m., and companies were detailed to guard the line of march and the railway entrance. In the railwayyard men of the National Reserve were lined along the platform and across the opening at the railway crossing. Although dressed in their civilian clothes, their smartness and food physique was freely commented upon. Fourteen motor-cars, in charge of officers of the Motor Service Corps, were in attendance to convey the 'soldiers to their homes, Captain Neville Newcomb being in command. A guard of honour was provided by the 3rd, Auckland, Regiment, under Captain Neely. Captain H. L. Garland was in charge of the military arrangements in connection with the arrival and detraining of the returning men.

The Waiting People. The train was timed to arrive at 3 p.m. Shortly before that hour, the Mayor, Mr. J. H. Gunson, arrived on the platform. He was accompanied by Mr. H. D. Heather, chairman of the Auckland Harbour Board, and Mr. R. W. Wilson, town clerk. The 3rd, Auckland, Regimental Band and the Onehunga Band took up positions on the arrival platform, and in the intervals of waiting for tho train to come in ' played patriotic and marching tunes. There was no movement or sound from the expectant people who were packed close against the fences, and occupied positions of vantage in windows and on fences and roofs overlooking the yards. A train which left for Onehunga at three o'clock appeared to steal out with unusual quietness ; after it had gone, the silence was as complete as before. The long lines of National Reserves looked almost military, so rigidly they stood. Near the entrance were grouped a number of convalescent soldiers, who returned with the first batch of wounded, several weeks ago. Scene on the Platform. The hospital train steamed m at twenty minutes past three with nothing to herald its coming but the whirring of the crossingbell and the opening of the line of reserves who guarded the crossing. Between their ranks the train steamed up to the platform, and still silence was supreme. Suddenly a voice called from the crowd behind the fence, " Hullo, Jimmy 1" A pale-faced soldier, with black shadows beneath his eyes, was stepping off a carriage platform. He looked across, a happy smile lit his thin face, and he cried, " Hullo, old son!" Then the regimental band played the opening bars of " See the Conquering Hero Comes," and cheers rang out as the men disembarked and fell into line. In a few minutes they were dismissed. As they did so, a battle-scarred man called for three cheers for the Auckland Regiment. It was a thin and scattered cheer, but it stirred the onlooker who realised that they were cheering for their comrades still fighting in Gallipoli. Old Comrades. Friends and relatives quickly gathered round the men, though occasionally a man would be seen looking a little forlorn amid the scenes of welcome. There was no one there to welcome him. But the countenance of one these cleared suddenly when one of the wounded men who returned in July hobbled up to him and hailed him familiarly by the name of "Ginger." They were old comrades, and quickly discovered that they had both been in Gallipoli for 11 days before being wounded. " But I beat you home by two months," Ginger's friend declared. *' That's so. But what matter, as long as we're both home, old man was the

reply. The dropping of the hospital cars at Newmarket was the cause of some disappointments. An agitated old lady asked an officer where these cars were. She was nonplussed to learn that they had been left at Newmarket. " Where's my boy, then ?" she demanded. " Safely in hospital," the officer replied. " Come this way, and we'll have you up with him in a lew minutes. The motorcars are waiting." Courteously he piloted her to one of the motor service cars, in which she was despatched to the hospital, smiling gratefully, though still anxious to be at her eon's side as soon as possible. Cars Proceed Up Queen Street.

When the men, accompanied by relatives, began to emerge from the station and enter the motor-cars, the cheering broke out afresh and with renewed vigour. As car after car filled up and moved away, the cheering grew in volume and the throng pressed forward against the doubled ranks of the guard. At the corner of Customs Street and Queen Street a rousing reception was given by people in the roadway and on the balconies of the buildings. All the way up Queen Street the same hearty welcome home was given the men as they sped to their respective homes in the cars. It had been arranged that the Mayor of Auckland, Mr. J. H. Guneon, should briefly address the returning wounded on their arrival at the station, during the short interval necessary for the transference of baggage to the waiting cars. The platform had been left clear, relatives of the soldiers standing in an improvised enclosure, behind a line of members of the National Reserve. The arrangements, however, went considerably astray and immediately the train had pulled into the station, the platform was taken possession of by the waiting relatives of the soldiers. It was quite impossible to address the men under euch circumstances.

SOLDIER! Soldier, back from the wars to-day, Back from the firing-line, Where have you been since you marched away? What have you seen, that your cheeks are

. grey. And your eyes with fever shine ? Soldier, say, are you glad to be in your own home-town again? Soldier, tell us what is't you 6ee, When your eyes are filled with pain? Is it something you saw when a bullet sped ? "My mate's still fighting out there, he said.

Soldier, back from the firing-line, Back from the wars to-day. See how the eyes of your sweetheart shine, See how she tries, with a bravery fine, To turn sad thoughts away ! * Soldier, since you have played your part, Will you stay at her side awhile, To light with laughter her lonely heart, To bring to her eyes a smile? The soldier's sweetheart raised her head — " My man goes back when he's fit," she said.

Soldier, back from the wars to-day, Back from the firing-line, What think our men of the lads who stay Loiterincr when the bugles play And the troops are marching fine? Soldier, say, in the battle's flame* When the roar of the guns was heard. Had they aught to say that was hot with blame, Or fraught with a bitter word? " It made them sorrow," the soldier said, "To think of the livingand think of the dead." Will IlAJwson. Auckland, September 12, 1915.