THE WEEK.

Otago Witness, Issue 3214, 20 October 1915, Page 67

THE WEEK.

The war news did not look at all cheerful last week, did it ? A little while before we had had our hopes raised by the apparent turn of the tide on the eastern and western fronts. It really looked as if the enemy were in difficulties, and beginning to feel the pressure put upon them, when behold! they come bursting out in a fresh place, and with a new ally on their side start another energetic campaign against Serbia. Truly they are a marvellous people. All our contempt and loathing cannot prevent a certain admiration for their skill and knowledge, their powers of organisation, their determination and persistence in spite of all obstacles. It only shows us once more what those who know have told ns so often before: that it will take every ounce of our povrer and energy to bring to terms this apparently indomitable nation and save ourselves, our homes, and the world at large from the triumph of cruelty, oppression, and absolute unscrupulousness. We are inclined to think that, we have done very well already, and there are even some bold enough to declare that we are doing as well as Great Britain in the number of men we are sending. That is very far from being the case. In proportion to our population—without taking into account the fact that there is a larger proportion of men in this country than at Home—the 40,000 figure which our army should reach by the end of the year represents barely * half the number sent by the Home countries, who are besides manning the navy and making enormous quantities of munitions, munitions without which our own boys would fare very badly. So we have a long way to go yet before we can say wc have done onr duty, and there must be no resting until the end is accomplished. However, it was not of what we ought to do, but of what is being done now that I set out to tell you this week, for I have been seeing something of the work of the Women’s Patriotic Association, and I can tell you that the last few weeks have been a very busy time for them. They always find something to do, and all day long the Early Settlers’ Hall is open, and some of the workers are there attending to the people who come and go with bundles of socks, or requests for wool, packing, checking, sorting, and so on. That is even in slack times, and what with the hurrying-up of the reinforcements, the rapid approach of Christmas, and the preparations for the winter campaign there has been lately not a minute to spare. Leather waistcoats alone absorb the energies of an army of workers, and at one time it seemed as if the required number could not possibly be got away in time. The factories could not supply the demands made upon them, and so the work had to go on at the hall, which just now resembles a huge saddler’s shop. Great stocks of skins waiting to be. made up lie beside bundles of vests which have -come in to be “buttoned,” the floor is thickly strewn with scraps of leather flung down by the cutters-out, who are working at top speed to prepare the vests for any patriotic women who will take them away and machine them at home. Several machines are whirring away busily all dav long, and at long trestle tables sit a little army of workers cheerfully engaged in the monotonous task of sewing on the buttons. This has to be done by band, as the factory machines cannot do it firmly enough, and to any who turn up their noses at such an apparently simple piece of work, I can only say “Just come and try, and you will have more respect for those who are doing it.” It- is a slow business, for the leather is stiff and the waistcoats unwieldly to handle, and there are many little tricks of the Hade which arc only acquired after some practice. You have to leave a good long shank, of course—that is most important—aud you have to learn to wax your thread so that it will go through easily', and remember to take it fourfold, and bow to give it the proper twist round to make the shank, and to make it firm without starting with a knot, because that tears the leather, and the chances are that when you find it takes you nearly an hour to sew the seven

buttons on one waistcoat, you will be inclined to give it up as a bad job, and wonder if there isn’t something else you wouldn’t be quite so useless at. However, the work acquires a sort of fascination as you get more expert, and you will find yourself passing on your knowledge to the new hands with a most superior feeling. They are such a cheery little band of women, too, those workers, although nearly every one has a son, a brother, or a husband at the front. That is why they go, so that they staying at home may do a little bit to help on those dear ones who have gone away. The talk is all of Gallipoli and Malta and Alexandria, and they pass round photographs of strong young men in khaki, and discuss the inadequacy of the parcel post arrangements, and laugh over the latest jokes from the trenches. An hour or two at the Early Settlers’ Hall would be a very good thing for those women who say “Wo could not bear it if my brothers went,” or “I simply can’t let my boy go.” Some of those sewers have sent their only boys, some have sent all their boys, three or four, or even five of them. Another scene of industry is the room in the Bank of New Zealand buildings, where the Gifts for Soldiers Committee make up and dispatch their parcels. Some details of this scheme were given in the Witness a week or two ago, and I think those who have sent in orders for parcels | to be forwarded would be glad if they i could see how their requests are attended j to, and how carefully the parcels are ' wrapped and addressed. This room resembles a kind of general store, and,

indeed, one of the workers confessed that it had all the fascination of “playing at shop.” The tables along the walls are piled with, goods—tins of shortbread, tins of sweets, packets of cigarettes, cakes of soap, writing blocks, medical comforts, face cloths, etc., and as the orders come in the things are selected from the different piles and put together ready for packing. Some of the parcels are such an odd, bumpy shape owing to the many tins that the packing is quite a problem. However, here, as everywhere, practice makes perfect, and each package is carefully sewn up in a service-bag, and then wrapped up, and the address clearly printed on it as well as on the label, and it is stamped ready for posting off. Many people who have no relatives of their own at the front send iu orders for parcels for “lonely soldiers,” and these are forwarded generally to one of the chaplains, ■who will see that they are distributed in the hospitals, and make a cheerier Christmas for some friendless ones who would otherwise have but a sad one. ELIZABETH.