Post by Dave Homewood on Feb 26, 2023 18:16:50 GMT 12
Here is an article from the NZ Herald dated 18th of March 1939:
With the Gay Gunners
By A. M. HENDERSON
A Keen Enjoys Life In a Territorial Training Camp
"WAIOURU, 2660 feet above sea level." This notice is an indication to the passing traveller that he is at the highest point on the North Island main trunk line, and a short distance from the military training camp. For many miles around the barren, tussocked hills are strikingly offset by the snow-capped grandeur of Mount Ruapehu. The unrelieved ruggedness of the land extending to its slopes makes the mountain all the more imposing, especially when outlined in the early morning sunlight.
On the Road
To those whose normal routine consists of indoor work, the life in camp at Waiouru is most exhilarating. The crisp mountain air makes itself felt about dawn, and when reveille is sounded at six o'clock the camp is wide awake. The first parade for a battery of artillery is to inspect the guns and equipment in preparation for the day's manoeuvres. The cleaning and testing of gear occupies until half an hour before breakfast, and at seven o'clock there is great activity in the tent lines, with everyone folding blankets and making the tents clean. Breakfast at 7.30 is a very welcome meal.
Little time elapses before setting out for exercises, which take place several miles from the camp. The battery commander and his staff lead the way to the site of mimic battle. We move along a pumice road which has not improved under the wear of heavy army trucks. Soon it is necessary to branch off the road for some distance to reach the destination, and as the truck bounces from one tussock lump to another, one feels that the road wasn't so bad after all. Eventually the truck bumps to a standstill and out climb the dusty staff ready to put communications into effect.
The target on a practice shoot such as this is predetermined, and the battery commander and his assistant officers spend their time setting up instruments and finding the range. The staff is busy getting the firing position into touch with the observation post either by flag, wireless, telephone or whichever is the most convenient.
Telephone is the usual means, but over longer distances wireless is more practicable. The motor-waggons with guns in tow arrive some time later and are drawn into position by the gun portion officer.
All is now in readiness for the shoot. Orders for "ranging" are received, and the guns detailed for this duty go into action. The roar of the shell leaving the gun is heard. Standing exactly behind the gun, one can see the shell, like a tiny black dot, flying into space for a second or two. As it whistles through the air the noise is not unlike that of an express train gliding on cushioned rails.
Several seconds elapse before a suddenly-rising cloud of earth and smoke shows that the shell has landed. Another interval elapses, and the boom of the shell-burst returns to those watching.
"In Retreat"
The battery commander raps out more orders, and immediately all the guns of the battery are brought to bear on the target. Meanwhile the lunch waggon has arrived, and at twelve-thirty the battery retires to a low-lying position to enjoy bread, butter, jam, cheese and hot tea. There is no short rations in our territorial army!
Afternoon operations are similar, although the battery may shift and bombard a fresh target, or conduct a "retreat" to a different position. Waiouru, barren as it is of trees, is sufficiently rugged to make the moving of equipment quite a strenuous occupation.
Return to camp is finally made about four o'clock and equipment is again overhauled. Before parading for dinner at five-thirty, everyone shines buttons, cleans boots and dons service kit. The time available for this is usually limited and after a few days the speed at which everyone washes and dresses is remarkable.
End of a Perfect Day
After dinner the army relaxes, and all except those on guard duty are free to spend the evening as they please. "Talkies," free to the troops, are screened several evenings a week, and although of rather ancient vintage, provide the camp with a pleasant evening's entertainment.
Table tennis, bagatelle and quoits are much used games, and if one is lucky, the Y.M.C.A. will have a tent at the camp's disposal where delicious hot cocoa is served during the evening. A sing-song round the piano, a cup of cocoa, and the day is over.
The comradeship among territorials is a most attractive feature of camp life, and the recruit soon learns the value of co-operation. Co-operative effort in helping his battery to outshine others is essentially the object of each individual member, for it is as a unit the men are judged. The regularity and precision of the army routine has everyone mentally alert and efficient, and above all, the healthy exercise in the open air acts as a tonic to the indoor city man.
With the Gay Gunners
By A. M. HENDERSON
A Keen Enjoys Life In a Territorial Training Camp
"WAIOURU, 2660 feet above sea level." This notice is an indication to the passing traveller that he is at the highest point on the North Island main trunk line, and a short distance from the military training camp. For many miles around the barren, tussocked hills are strikingly offset by the snow-capped grandeur of Mount Ruapehu. The unrelieved ruggedness of the land extending to its slopes makes the mountain all the more imposing, especially when outlined in the early morning sunlight.
On the Road
To those whose normal routine consists of indoor work, the life in camp at Waiouru is most exhilarating. The crisp mountain air makes itself felt about dawn, and when reveille is sounded at six o'clock the camp is wide awake. The first parade for a battery of artillery is to inspect the guns and equipment in preparation for the day's manoeuvres. The cleaning and testing of gear occupies until half an hour before breakfast, and at seven o'clock there is great activity in the tent lines, with everyone folding blankets and making the tents clean. Breakfast at 7.30 is a very welcome meal.
Little time elapses before setting out for exercises, which take place several miles from the camp. The battery commander and his staff lead the way to the site of mimic battle. We move along a pumice road which has not improved under the wear of heavy army trucks. Soon it is necessary to branch off the road for some distance to reach the destination, and as the truck bounces from one tussock lump to another, one feels that the road wasn't so bad after all. Eventually the truck bumps to a standstill and out climb the dusty staff ready to put communications into effect.
The target on a practice shoot such as this is predetermined, and the battery commander and his assistant officers spend their time setting up instruments and finding the range. The staff is busy getting the firing position into touch with the observation post either by flag, wireless, telephone or whichever is the most convenient.
Telephone is the usual means, but over longer distances wireless is more practicable. The motor-waggons with guns in tow arrive some time later and are drawn into position by the gun portion officer.
All is now in readiness for the shoot. Orders for "ranging" are received, and the guns detailed for this duty go into action. The roar of the shell leaving the gun is heard. Standing exactly behind the gun, one can see the shell, like a tiny black dot, flying into space for a second or two. As it whistles through the air the noise is not unlike that of an express train gliding on cushioned rails.
Several seconds elapse before a suddenly-rising cloud of earth and smoke shows that the shell has landed. Another interval elapses, and the boom of the shell-burst returns to those watching.
"In Retreat"
The battery commander raps out more orders, and immediately all the guns of the battery are brought to bear on the target. Meanwhile the lunch waggon has arrived, and at twelve-thirty the battery retires to a low-lying position to enjoy bread, butter, jam, cheese and hot tea. There is no short rations in our territorial army!
Afternoon operations are similar, although the battery may shift and bombard a fresh target, or conduct a "retreat" to a different position. Waiouru, barren as it is of trees, is sufficiently rugged to make the moving of equipment quite a strenuous occupation.
Return to camp is finally made about four o'clock and equipment is again overhauled. Before parading for dinner at five-thirty, everyone shines buttons, cleans boots and dons service kit. The time available for this is usually limited and after a few days the speed at which everyone washes and dresses is remarkable.
End of a Perfect Day
After dinner the army relaxes, and all except those on guard duty are free to spend the evening as they please. "Talkies," free to the troops, are screened several evenings a week, and although of rather ancient vintage, provide the camp with a pleasant evening's entertainment.
Table tennis, bagatelle and quoits are much used games, and if one is lucky, the Y.M.C.A. will have a tent at the camp's disposal where delicious hot cocoa is served during the evening. A sing-song round the piano, a cup of cocoa, and the day is over.
The comradeship among territorials is a most attractive feature of camp life, and the recruit soon learns the value of co-operation. Co-operative effort in helping his battery to outshine others is essentially the object of each individual member, for it is as a unit the men are judged. The regularity and precision of the army routine has everyone mentally alert and efficient, and above all, the healthy exercise in the open air acts as a tonic to the indoor city man.
