REMINISCENCES

Southland Times, Issue 21073, 3 May 1930, Page 13

REMINISCENCES

IN FAREWELL

(By 65144.'

I arrived home on a Tuesday evening and my brother, who had passed me in the North Atlantic as I went over, reached home two days later. He had been sent to Hanmer upon his arrival in New Zealand to receive treatment and, although the treatment could obviously have been allowed to wait for a few weeks, he was refused an opportunity to visit "his home. That was only one of the peculiar things which occurred in the army. We were given a public reception and then forgotten, and I had reason to learn later just how quickly the people of the district, who had made extravagant promises when we went away, could forget us. However, that is the way of the world and personally I have been able to stand on my own feet as I did in the army. I had an interesting illustration of just how much war-time promises meant to those who made them. When I left New Zealand I was given a farewell social and several speeches were made. One of the speakers, amongst other things, said: “These boys are going out to fight for our country and when they win the war they will have saved the country and the country will belong to them, ft is the duty of those of us who cannot go to see that they get a piece of the country for their own if they want it when they return, and we pledge ourselves to see that they get it.” His remarks impressed me so much that I still remember his words. I called upon him after I returned and asked him if he would sell his farm. He said that he would, so I asked him to put a price on it and he named a price that was at least twice as much as the place was worth. I had no intention of buying so' I did not trouble to discuss the matter with him. In fairness to him I will add that he has since done good service for another returned soldier in another capacity, and the service was done because the man was a returned soldier.

I found that my war illness had affected me in such a way that I could no longer pursue my old occupation and, like many more, I was forced to find a new means of earning my livelihood. I have managed to jog along, but I do not intend to write anything about that here. I started out to write of my war experiences because I was requested to do so, and having written I intend to stop, but before I do so I wish to refer to one aspect of the war or post-war years; which is exciting a great deal of interest at the present time; war books.

I have read a number of war books and have found a great deal of truth in all of them. I have suspected exaggerations in some but I would not say that I have found exaggerations in. any. Every man who went to the war had strange experiences and saw strange things and every man saw something that was not seen by others, so it is not safe to say that any writer exaggerates. After reading “All Quiet on the Western Front,” I remarked to another returned soldier that I did not believe that any man ever had his clothes blown off him by a shell, but he assured me that he had seen a man blown into the branches of a tree by a shell and, when the smoke cleared away, the man was hanging naked. I have no reason to disbelieve him.

I cannot appreciate the soldier who shot an enemy and then lay beside him all night worrying about what he had done. The men I met in the army were men. Perhaps men who would hate to kill a mouse in civil fife, but when they had to kill a man in their country’s cause they did it and did not lie down and worry about it. There again no man can judge, for the German youth who was so troubled had his own way of looking at things, and if it turned his mental stomach to Kill a Frenchman, that was due to a twist in his mental make-up, and not to any desire to exaggerate.

The arm-chair critics are apt to sit back and cry out in horror at the way in which the horrors of war are placed before the public, but why should not the public know about them? We had to go through them and know of them although we want to forget. The public started out to forget the war as soon as it was over and now they are being reminded of it, when the reminding may teach them to avoid such another ghastly mistake in the future. I do object to the implication that the common soldiers became bestial, for I knew hundreds of them and they were all men, and I intend that little word of three letters to be read with all the emphasis possible. I never met any angels in the army, unless they were in the ranks of the nurses, blit I never met a man in uniform who would refuse a helping hand to a comrade, or who would stoop to play a fellow soldier some of the beastial tricks that occur in civil life. A soldier would not “put one across” a companion in arms, but I have had a civilian attempt to “put one across” me for the sake of personal gain. I regard that as a bestial trick for one would only expect a beast to trample on tlje bodies of his fellows for the sake of fostering his ambitions in life. I have never met a soldier who would try those tricks, because the ‘training of a soldier taught him to consider his life and happiness and the happiness of others. No man can conduct a war on his own. He must work with others, and in learning to do that the soldier found that war is like peace in one way: it pays to work with others at all times. We met, a hundred or more of us, on Anzac Day, and we were still comrades. We were all “Diggers” to one another and the man who had a cigarette to spare offered it to his companion in the parade, even if he had never seen him before. The tall one was “Lofty,” the short one was "Shorty,” we were all of a family because we had learned to know each the other’s worth. We had learned the value of working together, and whatever we may have lost in the war we have gained the brotherhood of our fellow soldiers and the knowledge that a man is a man. The story of the war has yet to be written, and will be written,whether the critics like it or not, but it will not be a chronicle of beastliness for the sake of sensationalism; it will be the story of the war as it affected the nation; as it affected the men who went into it; as it affected the men who stayed out of it; as it affected the men who came out of it; and as it affected the men who did not return. [The End.] .