Ebook pdf for issue 126

APPET I SER

POW Number 765 Sue Courtney writes, “My father, one of 1856 New Zealand soldiers captured in Greece, was to spend his next four Anzac Days in Lavamund, Austria, in work camp 10030 of prison camp Stalag 18A. Paul Churton is photographed here in 1941, shortly after entering the prison camp. He is holding his POW number 765.

Turn to page 20 for the full account.

1

Appetiser 126 .indd 1

15/05/17 12:14 PM

E D I TORIAL

Dear Readers, The calm composure on the face of Paul Churton belies his recent capture by German forces in 1941; Paul will spend four long years in the Austrian prisoner-of-war camp as “Number 765 - Camp Stalag 18a”. In the article Following in My Father’s Footsteps, Sue Courtney pays homage at Greece’s Battle of Kalamata site and sheds a tear for the brave men in this poignant account.

It seems inevitable that New Zealand’s State Housing scheme, an idea originating from the Liberal Party and implemented in 1905, was destined to be marked by controversy. Viewpoints of subsequent governments and their constituents have varied widely, and will no doubt continue to do so. Claire Duncan, in her well-documented historical overview, leaves the reader with questions as to the wisest future direction of the scheme and brings the focus back to Richard Seddon’s original claim that all New Zealanders have a right to a decent home.

Although the name of Brian Sutton-Smith will be unfamiliar to most, the prompt of his mid-twentieth century publication our street may ring a subconscious bell. A man ahead of his time, Sutton-Smith’s early ideas and writings attracted much criticism as Geoff Lealand reveals in his fine article.

Our shorter anecdotes never fail to please. Neville Martin alerts the Inland Revenue to his illegal activities, Barry Edwards recalls a lunch with Spike Milligan, John de Bonnaire pays a touching tribute to his Margaret, and how aviation has changed since Mike Whittall’s 1956 flight.

As I write this letter the days are drawing in with the approaching winter. I send all my readers warm wishes and happy reading.

Wendy Rhodes, Editor

Subscribe

and

Save!

For just $75 you receive an annual subscription to New Zealand Memories.

Six superb issues direct to your letterbox.

A Gift of Distinction

Surprise a friend or relative with a gift subscription.

We will even gift wrap the first issue, include a gift card with your personal message and post it direct.

Freephone: 0800 696 366 or Freepost: 91641 PO Box 17288 Green Lane, Auckland 1546 Email: admin@memories.co.nz Visit our website w w w . m e m o r i e s . c o . n z for subscriptions and gift ideas.

Order online securely today and pay via internet banking, cheque or credit card.

2

Ed-Contents 126.indd 2

15/05/17 4:40 PM

C ON T EN TS

Editor Wendy Rhodes Photographic Scanning Anne Coath Administration David Rhodes

Contents Learning the Ways of the Gold: 70 Years Ago

4

Me and the Possum

9

From Des Styles, Central Otago poet and gold miner..

Distributed by Gordon and Gotch Subscriptions & Enquiries Phone tollfree: 0800 696 366 Mail: Freepost 91641, PO Box 17288, Green Lane, Auckland 1546 email: admin@memories.co.nz www.memories.co.nz Annual Subscription $75 for 6 issues (Price includes postage within NZ) For overseas postage: Add $49.00 for Australia Add $69.00 for Rest of the World Contributors Alexander Turnbull Library, Wellington Aubin, Paul Barry Edwards Cameron, Dave Courtney, Sue de Bonnaire, John Duncan, Claire Eddy, David Fletcher, Janyne Garlick, Chrissy Gates, Desmond Gumbrell, Joanne Heinz, Bill Hocken Collections, Uare Taoka o Hakeno Lealand, Geoff Martin, Neville Motueka and Districts Historical Association Newsham, John Otaki Historical Society Pickmere, Alan Ridley-Smith, Roger Sir George Grey Special Collection, Auckland Libraries Strang, Ian Styles, Des Whittall, Mike Opinions: Expressed by contributors are not necessarily those of New Zealand Memories.

Accuracy: While every effort has been made to present accurate information, the publishers take no responsibility for errors or omissions.

Copyright: All material as presented in New Zealand Memories is copyright to the publishers or the individual contributors as credited.

An amusing anecdote from Paul Aubin.

Leapfrogging to New Zealand

10

Our Street: Stories of a New Zealand Boyhood

12

Boarding School

16

Following My Father’s Footsteps Through Greece

20

From the Regions: Wellington / Wairarapa

24

Centrefold: Oriental Bay

36

Making Ends Meet

38

Mike Whittall’s 1956 London to Auckland flight.

Contributed by Geoff Lealand.

Memories of King’s College from ex-pupil John Newsham.

Sue Courtney records her journey.

A sunny day at the bay in 1953.

A brief history of State Housing in New Zealand by Claire Duncan.

‘L’ Plate Days

48

John de Bonnaire pens a story to explain his verse.

Motueka Wharf

50

Reader’s Response: Spike Milligan

56

From the Regions: Canterbury

58

Mailbox

68

Index and Genealogy List

70

Editor’s Choice: The Nanny

72

Contributed by the Motueka and Districts Historical Association.

Barry Edwards remembers Spike’s 1959 visit to New Zealand.

Contributed by Ian Strang.

Cover image: Feeding cats at the Radcliffe’s Paparoa homestead in the 1890s.

Frederick George Radcliffe is renowned for his scenic photography and postcards.

ISSN 1173-4159

June / July 2017

3

Ed-Contents 126.indd 3

15/05/17 4:39 PM

G O LD

M INING

Learning the Ways of the Gold, 70 Years Ago. Des Styles, Central Otago poet and gold miner.

The Danseys Pass Hotel a hundred years ago. Goldminer and poet Des Styles lives in a cottage among the trees to the left. Hocken Collections Uare Taoka o Hakena ID8683 copy negative No. c/n e2333/29 - 0484_01_004a. No. S05-0299

4

Styles - Learning the ways of gold 126.indd 4

15/05/17 12:17 PM

GOL D

MI N I N G

I

was just a boy when I first went fossicking for gold. Uncle Harry was telling Mum that his good friend Emmitt had asked him to look after his log cabin in the Hawkdun range near Naseby for a few days and would the boys like to come along? There was a sleep out with bunks, caves to explore and he said we could do a bit of gold prospecting. The boys, that’s me and my best mate Tom, decided it was too good to miss The day finally came and we loaded all the gear into the car. There was going to be a lot to haul that last two or three hundred yards up to the cabin. Tom and I were given one large, but fairly light, sack and a heavy sugar bag each to carry. We were told to be careful with one of the sugar bags as it was carrying delicate machinery which Emmitt had been trying to get for some time. We didn’t ask what it was because kids weren’t supposed to ask questions. We would “find out all in good time”.

5

Styles - Learning the ways of gold 126.indd 5

15/05/17 12:17 PM

G O LD

M INING

We took turns carrying the heavy sack and Tom asked me, “Remember you told me Emmitt had a windmill for pumping water? Well, they have a long rod, then a connecting joint and then another rod going down into the ground. I reckon that joints worn out and what we’ve got in the bag is a new one.” I nodded, “I think you’re right. It does give a dull clunk now and then so it must have some moving parts.”

Once at the hut, Uncle Harry told us boys to put our gear in the sleep out, make our bunks and then go exploring. He would light the fire and get something for lunch. He told us to be back in an hour and a half.

Tom and I were off; we couldn’t wait to have a look around. When we got back to the cabin Uncle Harry had the coal range going and was pouring mugs of cocoa while on the table there was a huge enamel plate covered with two layers of scones; some had honey, some golden syrup, some blackcurrant jam and a few Marmite. I reckon those last ones were for Uncle Harry because he didn’t have a very sweet tooth. We were told to “bog in” and we did because we were starving and Uncle Harry sat back with a couple of Marmite scones and a large bottle of Boddingtons beer. For us boys it was a party!

Uncle Harry explained that my mother had made a huge bacon and egg pie for tea and that he would make a rice pudding. The next day when we went up the creek we would take what was left of the pie, some sandwiches and orange drinks. We would also take pans, a sluice box, shovels, small crowbars, mats, a bucket and gratings. “It’s a fair bit to carry,” he warned us, “but at least I’ll find out what sort of mettle you boys are made of.”

We went to bed with minds full of what was coming the next day.

After breakfast Uncle Harry sorted the gear into three piles for us to carry. He would carry the riffles, shovels and all the food and drink. I had the mats, bucket and a pair of gumboots while Tom had a sluice box and a pair of gumboots. The sluice box was about a yard long and made of aluminium so it wasn’t heavy. Tom said he thought it would have been made of wood.

According to Uncle Harry that was one of the twenty gold mining mistakes he had made when he was our age; and the first mistake he made was of wood in the form of a wooden riffle. “I carried it down a steep bank to the river, set it up in the water and shovelled away for about four hours. I was so keen I didn’t even stop to eat… that was my second mistake. When I came to lift the box out it was so waterlogged it was too heavy to drag out of the river. I took the mats out, put them in my bucket and headed home. The first

flood would probably have taken that box as far as the Pacific Ocean! But as they say in the boat building business, ‘The man who never made a mistake never made anything’.”

We walked less than a mile before Uncle Harry pointed out a likely place, so we dropped our gear and asked him where we should dig. “No hurry, I’ll have a look around first.” He found a small bend in the creek and explained that on the inside of the bend was where the water was calm but that down further there was a sharp bend. “Now, when there’s a cloud burst and a flash flood so much water comes down it hits that bank because it can’t get round that sharp bend quick enough and it forms a little lake behind it. So, if we go back about ten yards we could have some luck.”

He gave Tom and me a crow bar each and told us to work them into the river bed about two feet down and when we saw a rusty red or grey colouring in the water to give him a call. He was going to sit on the bank and have a beer, but about ten minutes later Tom yelled out, “There’s some rusty stuff coming up here!”

Uncle Harry dug down and washed up in his pan and, sure enough, four or five sugary grains were shining in the pan. “Right,” he said, “You boys build a dam with rocks, block the leaks with grass sods. I’ll set up the box.” He set the box in a small hole in our dam leaving the outlet of the box about two inches above the water so that it could clear itself. In no time we were flat out. Uncle Tom shovelling into the box and Tom and I keeping the tailings clear at the bottom end of it. After an hour and a half Uncle Harry told us to carry on while he went to sort out lunch. Half an hour later he called us and it was only then that we realised our legs and arms were aching and that we were very hungry. Down went the rest of the bacon and egg pie, scones stuck together, sandwiches and orange drinks, leaving nothing for afternoon tea!

We did another three hours, then lifted the box out and left it high up on the bank. We hit the bunks early and the next thing we knew Uncle Harry was calling us out for a breakfast of bacon, eggs, sausages and hot chocolate before we set out at eight o’clock.

Back into the river and Uncle Harry said it looked promising as he could see some gold caught in the riffles. At noon he called a halt and told us to watch carefully as he demonstrated what he called “the most important part of gold mining”. He gently eased the head of the box up out of the water and laid it on the small beach. He put the box on a small angle, put a gold pan at the bottom and trickled some water down the box to catch any fine gold going down the side of the mat. Then he took the pan to the river and, as he

6

Styles - Learning the ways of gold 126.indd 6

15/05/17 12:17 PM

GOL D

MI N I N G

swished the water around, we could see more than fifty-odd, salt-sized specks of gold. He washed the mats in a bucket about four times and then panned for the gold.

Back at the hut we had the usual feast and then Uncle Harry brought out the gold scales and explained the confusing mystery of how gold was weighed now and in the old days. We did the weighing and he told us to write it all down - total, 2 pennyweight 9 grains. We were told that our mothers could decide whether we took the gold or the money (about £50 each). Pretty exciting stuff. That night Emmitt, the hut owner, arrived and he and Uncle Tom played cribbage and sipped on Old Smuggler rum. I plucked up the courage to ask Emmitt what kind of machinery was in the heavy sack we had lugged up the hill. There was laughter when he replied, “Oh, that was a girdle for the girdle scones!” I turned to Tom with, “So much for your wind mill joint.”

It was a great few days all of seventy years ago, but the gold fever never left me. In fact, for the last thirty years, since I moved permanently to Danseys Pass, I’ve fossicked away in my favourite spots as the old time miners used to say, “Just making tucker.”

Little Kyeburn Falls in the early 1900s.

7

Styles - Learning the ways of gold 126.indd 7

15/05/17 12:17 PM

WO R LD

WAR

T WO

Following My Father’s Footsteps Through Greece

By Sue Courtney 25th April 1941.

Anzac Day. Dawn services in New Zealand go on despite the blackout.

O

n the other side of world, in the hills of Kriekouki on mainland Greece, the soldiers of the 18th (Auckland) Battalion of the 2nd New Zealand Expeditionary Force (2NZEF) have little time to remember the legendary Anzacs who fell at Gallipoli. They have their own lives at stake as the rear guard action of the ill-fated and ironically named Operation Lustre campaign.

But they are Anzacs too. Just thirteen days before, on the 12th April 1941, the Australians and New Zealanders were reunited as one fighting corps on the battlefield again.

My father was an Anzac. His rank, Private. He was not a luminary to be later remembered for his participation. He was an ordinary man who eagerly answered the call when New Zealand declared war on Germany on the 3rd September 1939. Like so many others he recruited for adventure.

He trained in Ngaruawahia and Papakura and sailed for Egypt with the First Echelon in January 1940 then on the 6th March 1941 left for Piraeus, the main port of Greece, arriving two days later.

In 2013 I flew to Athens to follow my father’s footsteps through this ancient seat of western civilisation. My husband Neil came with me. I had studied Dawson’s 18th Battalion and Armoured Regiment intently and McClymont’s To Greece to find the exact route.

Initially the soldiers stayed at a camp amongst the trees on the western slopes of Mt Hymettus, near Athens. It was like a holiday after months in Egypt. Like us they went sightseeing, climbed the Acropolis and drank lots of krasi, the local wine.

On the 12th March 1941 the road party left for Katerini. They travelled west along the Sacred Way from Athens to Elefsina, then north on the Old National Road via Kriekouki, Thiva, the Brallos Pass, Lamia and Larissa where they stayed overnight, then continued via the Olympus Pass to their destination. The remainder of the Battalion went north by train.

I remember my father telling me he drove a truck. His story was not so much about the truck but about the can of bully beef he kept in the engine for a hot meal.

We followed the road route - or tried to - as motorways had since replaced much of the Old National Road.

Kriekouki is now called Erythres so we were delighted to find the old name graffitied on a deserted quarry building at top of the hill that overlooked the town and the vast plain to the north. Yes, the soldiers would have had an excellent vantage point here.

20

Courtney - POW 126 .indd 20

15/05/17 12:23 PM

WORL D

WAR

T WO

Top: Photographed in Auckland just before my father’s departure to Egypt. It was probably taken in Tamaki Drive with the railway line and Judges Bay behind. There was a big farewell parade at the Domain on the 3 Jan 1940: it was in full dress kit in the January heat.

A group of POWS at Work Camp GW10030 in Lavamund, Austria, where they worked on the construction of hydroelectric dams. My father is second from the left.

The colour photograph is taken on the north side of the former Aliakmon River (now Lake Polyfitos) looking back towards the township of Servia with Kastania up in the hill above the town. Kastania is where the 18th Battalion were positioned. This is where the New Zealand Forces first saw action when the Germans attacked.

21

Courtney - POW 126 .indd 21

15/05/17 12:24 PM

36

Neville - Centrefold.indd 36

15/05/17 12:31 PM

Oriental Bay “Sales of ice cream and milk shakes fluctuated with the season” according to Neville Martin in his story on the previous page. Judging by this 1953 photograph of sunny Oriental Bay, sales would have been brisk at Colgate and Black’s store.

National Publicity Studios, Archives New Zealand, Ref A29,373 provided by Alexander Turnbull Library, Wellington, NZ

37

Neville - Centrefold.indd 37

15/05/17 12:31 PM

A RT I CLE

Motueka Wharf Contributed by the Motueka and District Historical Association.

Funeral procession on the old wharf, January 1913.

Motueka businessman Abraham Manoy died suddenly at his home at the age of 76, and friends, family and business colleagues accompanied him on his last journey across the wharf. Steamers Koi and Nikau are in port and the Harbour Board flag flies at half mast. The body was taken to Wellington on the night steamer for burial in the Jewish section of the Karori cemetery, where the Rabbi of Wellington the Rev. H. Van Steveren conducted a service.

Mr Manoy was a widower and his sons Albert, Henry, Leo and Reginald were chief mourners with a son-in-law and brother-in-law. He had owned and operated the Riwaka butter factory and the Motueka bacon factory as well as other business interests in the town. “He was a man who marched with the times …. and his influence was always in the direction of progress.” Colonist, 19 February 1913. MDHA Ref: 1321-1

50

Motueka Wharf 126.indd 50

15/05/17 2:38 PM

ART I C L E

The story of the Motueka wharf is a reflection of the people who worked there. Hardworking, tough and pragmatic, they all loved the sea and knew the ships and boats that came and went up the channel. It is also a history of Motueka and its relationship with the land, in particular the apple industry, and the sea. In recent years the fishing industry has taken over from sawmilling, tobacco and horticulture as the largest employer in the district.

51

Motueka Wharf 126.indd 51

15/05/17 12:37 PM

E D I TOR’ S

CHOICE

The Nanny The children in this photograph, provided by Ian Strang, are Annie May (Nance) and Hilda Annie Bennett, fourth and fifth daughters out of eight children (at that time) of George William and Annie May Bennett (nee Julian) of Kahikatea Street, Inglewood in Taranaki. George and Annie May were Mayor and Mayoress of Inglewood between 1910 and 1913. In later years Nance told her family that they had a nanny and a housekeeper when they were children.

This photograph is titled ‘The Nanny’ in Hilda Annie’s photograph album. But who was she? To be included in a studio photograph, Nanny would probably have been close to the family. Unconfirmed thoughts are that she was a Julian family member, either a niece or cousin of Annie May Bennett. Can anyone clarify?

72

Editors Choice 126.indd 72

15/05/17 12:48 PM