Wartime Days - Leaving New Zealand

It was of course war time and I now took up my military career. After my disastrous experiences in the 21st Battery I had become a member of the 1st Field Regiment which had been formed out of the various territorial batteries. We had five months intensive training starting with an N.C.O. course at Hopuhopu camp at Ngaurawahia. The officers trained with us and apart from the weather it was very interesting. We slept in Bell tents on floorboards to set us above ground level. It was bitterly cold and wet which together with the fog from the nearby Waikato River made it very miserable. Reveille was at six and we spent half an hour doing squad drill on the often frosty ground. The squads of about twenty would march backwards and forwards over open ground and at times in the fog would be completely out of sight of the sergeant. It became common for them to become less and less as cunning soldiers kept marching when the order came to ‘about turn’ and sneaked back to their tents.
I became what was known as a Technical Assistant or an “Ack’.   Our job was to survey the guns into position plot targets and pass on fire orders to the gunners. After this training we went home and the regiment was mobilised for day training at Avondale racecourse. We were given tram passes and left home each morning to travel to Avondale. We had to be there by nine o’clock. I learned a lot in this time as we had a very intelligent officer. He had taught my brothers at Takapuna Grammar and knew how to teach technical subjects by stripping away the jargon and talk in every day language that we all understood. I had been quite good at using logarithms which we used a lot in gunnery without having any idea of the principle behind them but he explained exactly how they worked and why and I now felt much surer of myself.
Despite this I was not getting on any better especially when older men were brought in from local businesses and promoted over the rest of us. However they had to admit that I knew more about gunnery than most of them and when they had been given commissions I was eventually promoted and became a sergeant in charge of the battery command post.
On my transfer to Wellington I was posted to the 2nd Field Regiment and paraded at Buckle St. The war in the Pacific was imminent and even before Pearl Harbour we were mobilized and quartered in the Boys High School at Palmerston North. They were building a camp at Linton just out of town and we soon moved there at first sleeping in tents. Later they built small huts but it was all quite primitive.
My Battery Commander had taken a violent dislike to me,  I was an Aucklander and there was another sergeant who coveted my position in charge of the Command Post. It was not a happy state of affairs and at length the O.C. hit on a solution. They were calling for recommendations for O.C.T.U. (Officer Cadet Training Unit) He told me that I lacked ‘tactical appreciation’ and that I would be better suited for the new Anti Aircraft forces being formed. I went off to Trentham Military camp to become an officer. I would like to be able to say that this was the end of my clashes with my superiors but it was not.
All went well for a start as I was chosen to be a mathematics instructor. My having passed Stage 1 maths at University plus my gunnery experience made me well suited for this and I enjoyed it immensely. Many of the cadets were older men chosen for their leadership potential but sadly lacking in technical skills. Most had not gone beyond simple arithmetic at school and were now required to become familiar with logarithms and trigonometry.
In those days calculations were done on paper and there were no hand held calculators. Using the techniques my officer at Avondale had taught me I guess I showed off a bit and taught them a fair bit more than they needed to know although this relieved the boredom for the one or two in the class whose education was equal to mine.  
Things, however, came unstuck when I aroused the enmity of a permanent staff instructor who found me disrespectful. He knew very little about gunnery and my attitude towards him obviously rankled. At the end of the course we sat an exam which was extremely simple and I had no trouble in answering the questions. I was surprised to be called in to see the Camp Commandant who told me that although I had failed the exam he was going to pass me because of the good work I had done during the course. I couldn’t believe it and asked to see my paper. Apparently there was a lot of unhappiness over the marking and when I got to see my paper I found that out of four parts to the exam I had been given marks for only two. Instead of a mark of 49% I had in fact got 99% and guess who added up the marks?
I found that I was not to be posted to Anti Aircraft but was sent to Greytown in the Wairarapa to join the 12th Field Regiment. Although I liked the place and got on well with most of the troops trouble soon occurred. The Battery Commander was a martinet who was henpecked at home and took it out on all of us officers. He was too old for overseas service and knew very little about Artillery but insisted on all the I s being dotted and the t s being crossed.
We would be sitting in the Mess eating our meal when he would bark out ‘I saw Gunner ……… strolling across the Gun Park at 3 o’clock. What was he supposed to be doing?’ He was very strict about our giving the correct orders exactly as per the manual. One of the officers was heard  to omit one word from the order to deploy the guns and was not allowed to do his job again, having to stand by while his Troop Commander did his job instead.
The Colonel was no better also being only fit for home service and was aspiring to higher rank in N.Z. I went to the local dance on Saturday nights and met a local girl with whom I had quite a romance. I also got to know the Matron at the hospital who was an older woman and treated me like a son. I would call in after the dance and she would have a meal ready for me. First I would have a bath which was a real luxury and then we would sit and chat over the meal. I would then walk the mile or so back to camp.
Being an officer I didn’t need a leave pass and didn’t have to be back by twelve thirty like the Other Ranks. In fact the Guard would salute me as I went through the gate. I was still only twenty and often got abused by older men at the dance who didn’t realise that I had already been a soldier for three years and much longer than they had.
My downfall came when I got week end leave to home Auckland. There were about eight of us and as the only officer I was made Railway Transport Officer and responsible to see that they got there and back. I thought that I had done everything right but I forgot to check that the train was leaving Auckland on time. As a result I got to the station at 1 a.m. only to find that the train had been rescheduled and had left at 10 p.m. Two others were in the same boat and I wrote a note to their units saying what had happened as being absent without leave was a serious offence.
I eventually arrived back in Greytown to find that I was in serious trouble. I was held to blame for the whole affair and was called before the Colonel. He cited another occasion when I had dozed off one morning and had been late for parade and suggested that I was not fit to be an officer. By now I was inclined to agree with him and felt that if that was what it entailed I didn’t want to be one. I said that I would be happy to resign my commission on condition that I could revert to the rank of sergeant and be transferred back to Auckland. He agreed to this and I signed my resignation.
We went to Waiouru for live shooting and while there I was called before the Colonel again. He informed me that my resignation had been accepted and that I would revert to the rank of Gunner immediately and transfer to a Medium Battery in Palmerston North. I reminded him of his undertakings but he merely said that it couldn’t be arranged. I went to Palmerston and joined a battery of 6 inch howitzers as a gun number. It was rather humorous if a little embarrassing. I was glad that this battery never went into action as it was hopeless. The guns were large and cumbersome and of World War One vintage.
The Gun Sergeants were quite able but the officers and their assistants knew nothing. We would practice going into action luckily without ammunition to hump around. To load the guns we would have placed the shells on a thing like a stretcher and four men would raise it to the right height. It would then be thrust into the breech using a large ram rod and the charge of cordite rammed in behind it.
What did cause the trouble was that the Acks could not understand how to use the Director which passed on to the guns the line of fire. They kept reading it back to front. This would have meant that had we fired the guns they would have been pointing away from the enemy. The sergeants however were not going to turn the guns around and would query the orders.
The officers did not understand what was wrong either and soon the cry would go up for Gunner Gilbert to come and sort things out. This made them look ridiculous and so I was moved on.
My next posting was very pleasant. A Japanese midget submarine had got into Sydney Harbour and although it had not done much damage had caused some red faces. It was decided that Wellington Harbour needed protection and a Beach Battery was formed. It was sited at Scorching Bay right under Fort Balance which guarded to inner reaches of the harbour. Two old 18 pounder guns were procured and placed on a rocky shelf  looking out across the harbour towards Eastbourne.
The troops were housed in the cabaret which was empty and disused and was a couple of hundred yards from the gun position which was just out of sight around the cliff face. The officers and sergeants lived in the staff quarters on the top floor while the O.R.s slept on the floor in the Dining Room area. That is except for the two ‘Gun Sergeants’. I was surprised to find that I was one of them, the other was a two striper.
My crew consisted of the Battery Sergeant Major a cook the Quartermaster who was a captain and two Gunners. The two of us slept in a hut beside the guns and our main task was to grease the lands that ran along the barrel and slid within grooves to hold the recoil steady when the gun was fired. The sea air was very corrosive and this was an important task. I never saw any ammunition and the dial sights were locked away. We never did any gun drill and I understand that shortly after the battery was formed they had a live shoot. I imagine the results were kept very secret. Eighteen pounders are known as ‘flatfire’ guns with a relatively high muzzle velocity as compared with howitzers that lob shells with a high trajectory. When the guns were fired they being so near to the water level the shells ricocheted off the water and clearing the hills opposite finished up killing some sheep in the Orongorongo Valley.
Apart from the greasing of the lands the main activity was manning the command post which was situated within the protected area of Fort Balance.  We had to take turns at manning the telephones in case of enemy attack and subsequent fire orders. We did two hours on and four hours off during the night. It would be a good question to ask what would have happened in the case of attack with the man in charge of a gun up the cliff in the fort quite apart from his not knowing where the ammunition was stored and not having a trained gun crew.
The officers meanwhile kept open house with a party every night. I found out that I had been selected to join their merry band but disaster struck again A chap and I had become friendly with a married woman who lived a few hundred yards away along to road. She was no better than she ought to be and in fact fell in love with my friend. Anyway I was detained there one night and quite forgot that I was supposed to be manning the phones. I failed to report for duty and was put on a charge. In that I had left the Capital City completely unguarded my punishment was very light a ten shilling fine and the loss of two days pay. However with a conviction against me I was ineligible for promotion, standards had to be met after all.
I had my twenty first birthday there and was now eligible for overseas service. Next I was posted to Papakura to join the 37th Field Regiment which was being mustered along with the 38th Field for service in the Pacific. Once again I was placed in an embarrassing position because of my wide experience of Artillery work. I was made an Ack and the Command Post Sergeant was from a coastal battery and knew nothing of field artillery procedures.
Each morning when we broke off from the Regimental parade the sergeant would march us off to where we were to be instructed and fall us out. Then Gunner Gilbert would proceed to instruct all including the sergeant. The Battery Commander was from an Auckland manufacturing and importing firm and I knew him quite well. He had been in the course I attended in 1940 when the 1st Field Regiment was formed. One day Routine Orders announced that I had been promoted to Lance Bombardier. I was deeply insulted and went to him. I told him how I felt and said that if that was all that I was worth he should leave me as a Gunner. He was a very plausible chap and turned every argument around until I gave up and thanking him left the room. It became a standing joke among the Acks and from then on I was known as Jim Gilbert the little ‘shit striper’.

It was there that I met the closest male friend I ever had in my life. It is probably no coincidence that he had a somewhat similar experience to mine although for a different reason. He was part Maori although only about a sixteenth and his uncle was a cabinet Minister. He was in fact Minister of Maori Affairs. Trevor had joined the Air Force and earned his pilots wings. While on leave he had met an older woman and a divorcee. He had fallen for her quite heavily much to the dismay of is family. On being appealed to his uncle decided that the best thing to do was to post him overseas immediately.
This was done only to find that, realising what was happening, Trevor went absent without leave. The family didn’t know what to do. It was wartime and he faced a stiff penalty with suggestions of cowardice and the uncle was in an embarrassing position having improperly interfered  in a military matter. In the end he was transferred to the Army and he insisted on wearing his wings on his uniform as was his right. The foolishness of the family action was highlighted when his lady love fell for a Yank and dropped Trevor completely.
He came to us when we were on manoeuvres and we hit it off immediately. We were inseparable on leave and became close buddies even when we finished up in different units. In fact on the day the war ended he crouched beside me behind a rocky outcrop above Trieste as a German fanatic fought to the bitter end firing anti tank shells down the road we had been travelling on.
With the African campaign finished there was a need to relieve the troops who had fought for so long in the Middle East and it was obvious that we could not man a complete division in the Pacific as well. It was decided to disband our regiment and send us as reinforcements to Italy.  We then went to Trentham and later to Plimmerton where they had formed a camp on the Kapi Mana Domain at the entrance to the Porirua Harbour.
There Trevor and I among others were taught to become army surveyors. We had leave in Wellington and it was a most pleasant time. We went to one of the clubs where we met some lovely girls and Trevor once again became involved as did I. It was an interesting course and there were several who had worked in Lands and Survey Department on the course. For the first time I had some real competition and had to work hard. We became very fit lugging theodolites and banderoles over the hills at the back of Porirua. They never gave out any final results but I think that I did at least as well as the others.
Just before Xmas the course ended and we went back to Trentham. We were given Final Leave and knew that we  would soon be going overseas. Sure enough early in January we were taken to the wharves and boarded the Mooltan an old P. & O. passenger and cargo liner that had been on the run between England and India. I was looking over the rail at the hundreds of family and friends who had gone down to farewell their loved ones when I saw my sweetheart from my time in Greytown. I thought she had lost interest in me when I lost my commission as I hadn’t heard from her. She was there to see her brother off and we soon made contact albeit from a distance of about twenty feet from the deck of the ship down to the wharf. She was always a resourceful girl and wrote a note, wrapped it in a half crown coin and threw it up to me. She was very accurate and it landed right in my hands. I was most impressed and we wrote to each other all the time I was away. She even went to Auckland and visited my mother who was also impressed with her.
I don’t know what went wrong but I never heard much from her after I got home. Perhaps she expected me to go to Greytown and sweep her off her feet but I had no plans to marry and settle down and didn’t even know what I wanted to do for a living. In fact it wasn’t until I became engaged about a year and a half later that she suddenly turned up in Auckland and told me that there had never been anyone else in her life.
I lost track of her completely after that but a few years later she came to my aid when Joan was in hospital with polio. I was stuck for someone to look after John during the school holidays and on a sudden inspiration rang her. She had married and was living in Greytown. She hesitated and said that she would ring me back. She did ring and agreed to do it. I realised when I got to Greytown that I was not popular with her father who felt that I had treated his daughter very badly. I lost track of her again and only recently when there was a death notice in the local paper for one of her brothers I found that she has passed away, how long ago I have no idea. 
Trevor and I had been going steady with a couple of girls from one of the clubs set up to entertain servicemen in Wellington. I think it was called Webby’s and three or four couples would meet on Sunday’s often at one of the beaches. I was quite taken with the girl who was part French. As usual I was a bit offhand and far from assiduous in my courting. Just when we were due to go overseas she informed me that she had been writing to a soldier in Egypt for some time. He had been badly wounded and was due home on a Hospital ship. Although she was not in love with him she had agreed to marry him and look after him. I was really shattered and I must confess that I didn’t behave very well. Luckily there was little time to brood and in no time I was on the high seas heading for the war which had now shifted to Italy.
There was a curious sequel to my broken romance. The other girls felt sorry for me and asked a friend to write to me thinking that I would have nobody to correspond with. As a result I acquired a pen pal who it turned out was a very proper young lady. She had the impression that I was a Roman Catholic because the girl who asked her to write to me was one as was her soldier boy friend. I never enquired whether the other girl was a Catholic and although with her French ancestry she may well have been. In addition I had been admiring a girl in Customs in Auckland who was very much a Roman Catholic hence the casualness of my admiration. We went out a few times when she decided to learn ballroom dancing. I had decided to learn as well and I enjoyed her company a lot. She was very intelligent but quite a dedicated R.C. and I could imagine my mother’s reaction if I wanted to marry one. So there I was with three pen pals and a lot of letter writing to do.