MAORI WARRIORS.

Otago Witness, Issue 3216, 3 November 1915, Page 5

MAORI WARRIORS.

FOND OF THE WAR

A dozen burly members of the Maori Contingent _ returned on the ship. They were laconic, and disinclined to speak of their exploits, as became warriors and the descendants of a warrior race. But nowhere else was the genuine agressive fighting spirit and love of combat more strikingly evident than in the conversation of these men, when once they could be warmed up to narrative pitch. Their eyes lit up and they grinned ■ with pleasure when they told of a tight corner, a fierce rush, and a strenuous resistance. There was no doubt that the game wan to their liking. “Like a game of football,” said one big North Aucklander, with a bullet embedded in his hand, in reply to a suggestion. “Well, a lot better when you got warmed up to it. But war is not much fun for a start.” He supplemented this information by a description of the manner of his and his comrades’ landing. They embarked on open boats, and all was plain sailing for 200 or 200 yards. The land appeared quite harmless, and gave no indication of the offensive j forces that were concealed on it. Then, as j they neared the shore, there were splashes 1 in the water, arid something chipped away j a bit of the woodwork of the boat, and then one of its occupants fell forward and lay still, and they realised that they were having their first taste of the real thing. There were no false heroics about the manner in which the Aucklander told his tale. I “I was frightened,” he admitted; —’’pale ' as a sheet,” he added in laughing allusion to his brown cheeks, which nothing could j whiten. “We were all frightened at the ] start. You couldn’t hit back, but just had | to sit there and wait for it. Well, we got j to the shore, and it continued. Now and i then the shrapnel shell would come along, I and soon we learnt what to do to dodge that, if possible—throw ourselves flat on our faces and hone for the best. The shrapnel was awful.’* “The Maoris had a bad run?” “ Well, we lost a good few,” he said. “The rest of us were distributed among other units, after our heavy losses on August 6,7, and 8.” It seemed that the Maori was a sad ■ puzzle to the Turk. What used to worry | the latter was the haka. Anybody who has j seen and heard a body of Maoris at “Komate, Komate,” and the rest of it, will [ understand what an uncanny thrill it would send up the spine of an enemy to whom it ■ was a complete novelty. When big things ■ were in the air the Maoris would raise haka : after haka, and the Turks in nearby trenches j had surely good_ excuse for calling out to j Allah that cannibals were upon them. j The Maoris liked using the bayonet. The ; hand-to-hand fighting was the thing for i them. “It must have been like the days of ' our forefathers,” said the big Maoris, re“We got our blood up, and went i right into it when wo had a chance of sticking a bit of steel into them. This sitting and waiting for a bullet, or for a chance to fire a bullet —that was not the same thing. 1 Sitting in a boat at the landing and not j able to fire back was no good at all—cold 1 feet on that.” j He leaned over the rail, this big brown I Aucklander, and scanned the faces of the ! spectators eagerly. “I am looking for one j of our officers who came back before,” he ) said. “Captain Dansey—he was a great j fighter. The chaps who knew him at home ! said ho used to fight the, -way he played | football —like hell! Ono day a big Turk I jumps up ahead of him and levels a rifle | at his head. But Dansey just ducks and I goes for that Turk low down; and the bulI let goes over his head, and the Turk goes to heaven !” j Bayonet fighting in the dark seems to j have been a nasty business. Bor instance, I there was always the danger of mistaking ; your man. One night the Auckland infantry j captured a trench well forward and hold it. The Maoris, who were behind them, were I unaware, in the dark, that the Turks had 1 boon dislodged, and, thinking that the trench j was still manned by the enemy, they preI pared to launch an attack. The Auck- * landers, aware of the mistake, hailed them 1 in explanation; but English, it seems, is ; common in the Turkish trenches, and, suspecting nothing but treachery, tho Maoris held to their determination. Then one of the Aucklanders had the sense to say something in Maori, and tho others halted. Could ; tho Turks have picked up the New Zealand Native tpngno? Surely not I Careful re-

connaissance -was made, tlj® mistake was discovered, and what would otherwise have been a headlong, charge and an awful error was averted. One of the Aucklanders was standing by when the Maori told this story. “.Lucky for you you didn’t attack that trench,” ho said laughingly. “Lucky for you we didn’t!” retorted the Maori, also hugely amused. It must be'admitted that the Maoris were the only men on the ship who seemed genuinely fond of fight for its own sake. There was not one of the others who did not strike the observer as being full of oourago and a sticker, determined to see it through. But the Maoris said, with real conviction, “By Jove, I’ll be glad to get hack. You see, when you got over the first fright, it is good fun, especially the bayonet charge. Yes, wo want to got into it again.”