N.Z.M.R

Observer, Volume XXXIX, Issue 48, 2 August 1919, Page 3

N.Z.M.R

Those Deathless Regiments

THOSE New Zealand soldiers often described by the daily press as "mounted men," but most often under the meaningless title of "mounteds," were fortunate enough to be designated by some person whose mind sadly needed a bath,.as the "cold-footed mounteds," a title that should become as famous as the Kaiser's great sneer, "The Contemptible British Army." The N.Z.M.R. already havijig great and splendid traditions, earned in one of the most arduous campaigns ever undertaken—the Boer War—were imbued with precisely the same ideals a-s: their comrades in the New Zealand Field Artillery and the Infantry. Their work as infantry in Gallipoli is a chapter of magnificent achievement not excelled by any troops who have had the honour to wear His Majesty's uniform. * * * These M.R. Regiments fought with terrific determination. .They were in the real sense "diggers." They are buried under every bush on Gallipoli, their regiments ~ going in almost full strength, came out twenty or thirty odd "strong." There were cases where every officer was either killed, wounded, or sick, and the CO. Regiment was anon.com. The subsequent work of, these "cold-footed" M.R. has been beyond praise, and certainly beyond belief, by the armchair critic, who was so indispensible to the door-mat trade, or who "farmed" in Queen Street. The M.R. man has worked and ridden and died in a climate often hideous in its treatment of the white man. He has been racked with dysentery and tropic disease, including sand-blindness and fever and ague; he has had on the whole a harder time physically than his comrade in France. He has been cut off from sxipplies and "Blighty" leave, his medical services on account of the great area he has covered, and his mobility have been less effective. * * * Above all, much of his work has been done in the open. His horse and camel lines were always easy marks for enemy airmen. Utterly played out with incredible marches and heavy day fighting, lie was never allowed to rest at night, for the nature of the war terrain made air attack single. He has been lousy, ragged, and without water. He and his horse or camel has staggered forward and died in the sand. He has perished with thirst. He has met poison wells and scorpions, snakes and human canaille, even more treacherous than the Huns. He has been frazzled to a shadow with the blistering sun, his tongue has been like dry leather, his eyes like red-hot points. His feet have been frozen in the stirrups, his buttocks raw with riding, his belly and his haversack empty, his "leave" non-existent, his life a mere blurr.

Imagine even discussing whether the men of the famous N.Z.M.R. are worthy of a reception by smug, comfortable people, who don't know the stink of rotting horses, 'Who haven't seen a putrid camel, who have forgotten Gallipoli, whose imagination does not grasp the wonder of Allenby's conquest, or the sufferings of these M.R., who were among the very finest of his troops. Cold hearts for "cold feet." The dreadful person who dared to impugn the glorious name of N.Z.M.R. should be given two biscuits and a bottle of water, and a spent horse, and turned adrift on the desert. Groups of these typical New Zealand soldiers are coming back home. It's up to the comfortable and pursy crowd who can't distinguish war from a football match to honour them deep-