A, B, and C Companies jostled for starting positions in the confined area of 42nd Street, now immediately in front of the battalion; B Company, led by Captain Royal brandishing a bamboo walking pole like a taiaha in one hand and a revolver in the other, and C Company following Captain Scott got into 42nd Street first and deployed across the battalion front. By this time the Germans were within 200 yards of the sunken-road start line and advancing in sections dispersed in frontage and depth.

The appearance of a line of yelling Maoris sent them to ground and they opened heavy defensive fire which caused casualties in B Company. Meanwhile, A Company had left 42nd Street and was quickly in the an of the attack, with units on each flank of the battalion in full cry. A few stray Greek soldiers added their Hellenic yells to the blood-curdling din.

Section after section of the enemy was overrun as the Maoris fanned out and swept around them and then went in for the kill. Some used rifle and bayonet, some threw grenades, and some rushed forward with spandaus at the hip while their mates ran alongside carrying the belt containers. Casualties still continued, including Lieutenant Stewart killed.

Sundry others besides the three assaulting companies thought up good reasons for being in the party: Major Dyer, who with Corporals Hemi54 and Matthews happened to be in the vicinity when the firing started, went forward to ‘investigate’; the adjutant, the ‘I’ officer, and the RSM all decided that the position must be examined carefully and personally. Lieutenant Urlich, who was taking Lieutenant Porter, newly out of hospital and still bandaged, to report to Captain Banker, met the latter returning to have his newly acquired wound dressed. The pair carried on and Porter took command of A Company, which had just finished dealing with some twenty Germans dispersed along a dry creek-bed and was continuing its advance beyond.

The clearing of the creek-bed about 800 yards from 42nd Street was practically the end of the German resistance for those still alive threw away much of their equipment and disappeared westwards. They were chased for another 400–500 yards before fire from houses and a road where a second German battalion was deployed gave the harried I Battalion some relief.

At this point Major Bertrand, who had been sent by the CO to prevent the Maoris from going too far, caught up and said the ‘Old Man was going fair dincumb crook’ and to come back at once. Over eighty dead Germans were counted on the battalion sector for the loss of 10 killed and 14 wounded. The ‘I’ officer, Lieutenant Bennett, later reported:

The German machine gunners had taken up positions on our flanks and an attacking party of infantry were moving up between them. The enemy had put out a screen of Cretan civilians and these poor people received the full blast of our weapons and several were killed. One of them was a policeman I knew well at Platanias and after the action I went over to where he was lying seriously wounded in the stomach but still conscious and he smiled a recognition. I arranged for him to be taken to the RAP but he died before this could be done—still smiling and still on our side. It should be noted that not only were these people used as a screen but as pack horses for the transport of their heavy equipment.

The enemy had learned the wisdom of prudence and, always excepting the German Air Force, the Maoris were not further molested that day, but neither 19 Australian nor 5 New Zealand Brigade's commander could get any firm orders about the withdrawal they knew was in progress. Finally, they gave themselves orders.

The Australians would go first after dusk and take up a position at Neon Khorion while 5 Brigade made for Stilos by way of the Suda Bay road as far as the turn-off south to Beritiana. A detachment consisting of A and B Companies under the command of Captain Royal would fall out at the turn-off and, assisted by a body of Commandos about 100 strong, would form a rearguard.

The problem of evacuating the 42nd Street casualties was partly solved by Captain Baker, himself a walking wounded case, who took charge of the other walking wounded and, as an armed party, started off ahead of the brigade. The seriously wounded had to be left behind.

A and B Companies were given final instructions at the turnoff, which was reached shortly after midnight; they, with the commando unit, were to deny the road junction until nine o'clock that night (28 May) and so gain time for the preparation of holding positions further south.

Captain Royal, with Lieutenant Porter, OC A Company, Lieutenant Te Puni (A Company), and Lieutenant Pene, OC B Company, made a quick reconnaissance in the darkness while the troops who had found some rations had a meal. While the rest of 5 Brigade was passing through an all-round position was organised and the troops put on the ground, but the dispositions had to be altered somewhat unexpectedly. A Canadian captain in charge of the Commandos who were guarding high ground to the west and a bridge that was later to be demolished sent an urgent request for reinforcements. Sixty of his men, Spanish volunteers under a Spanish sergeant, had marched away with the last of 5 Brigade. Lieutenant Pene took 11 and 12 Platoons into the area, the bridge was blown, and the Maoris waited the dawn. We must return to the battalion in the meantime.

To make the next few days explicable it is only necessary to mention that the German commander in Crete mistakenly thought that his enemy in the Suda Bay area had retired eastwards towards Retimo and Heraklion and, in consequence, only light forces were sent after the troops retiring to the south.

The 28th Battalion, less A and B Companies, reached Stilos55 after a tough 15-mile march and the men had about three hours' badly needed sleep before they were awakened by firing. The 85th Mountain Regiment, following a route high in the foothills, bumped into 23 Battalion north of Stilos. The vanguard was roughly handled by 23 Battalion and soon withdrew. Beyond standing-to, the Maoris were not involved.

It was assumed that 23 Battalion had turned back the advance elements of a larger force and Brigadier Hargest discussed with his commanders the pros and cons of fighting where they stood, then trying to win clear at night. It was generally agreed that such a feat was not possible, so there remained the prospect of marching by day along the only road and taking the risk of planes spotting them.

Colonel Dittmer was against this course on the ground that half his battalion were still at the turn-off north of Beritiana and the rest of the Maoris would take a dim view of leaving them high and dry. Brigadier Hargest replied that they were cut off in any case but that he would do all in his power to get a message back to them. He considered that A and B Companies would have already concluded that the Stilos road was cut and would be doing something about withdrawing.

A despatch rider was sent with withdrawal orders but he did not get through. Some carriers and a tank were also sent back but were stopped by guns which the enemy now had covering the road between Beritiana and Stilos. Pursuant to an arrangement to pass 5 Brigade through 19 Australian Brigade, 23 Battalion began to thin out and Colonel Dittmer was preparing to follow them when a message from 23 Battalion said that another attack was pending. The sound of mingled Maori and pakeha yells behind the massing enemy caused another quick dispersion, but had they not been so precipitate they would have found in their rear only a small number of commando stragglers and walking wounded Maoris.

The battalion moved off behind 23 Battalion about 10 a.m. and made use of all available cover by marching in single file on each side of the road. Planes were overhead and the troops often had to dive for shelter but were successful in escaping attention. An hour's march brought them to Babali Hani [Babali Inn] where they rested for half an hour and listened to the sounds of a sharp engagement behind them. The enemy had finally made up his mind and was having it altered again by a mixed force of Commandos and Australians.

The troops marched on, climbing towards the pass over the towering White Mountains, 3000 feet higher than Stilos where the brigade had last fought. At three in the afternoon the battalion arrived at Vrises, where a three-hour halt was taken before the real ten-mile climb zigzagged, serpentined, and hairpinned over the pass. It was joined there by Captain Baker and some of the walking wounded who had gone on ahead. Those who felt unable to keep pace with the battalion kept moving independently. To spread more evenly the weight they were carrying, automatics were stripped and the parts and magazines distributed among the riflemen.

On the road was abandoned equipment and ordes of stragglers—some who had fallen out from their units, some who had left the battle over-early, some who had no unit to march with, and the balance made up of Cretans, Cypriots, and British troops. To avoid delay the battalion marched on the left of the road hard up against the bank, with instructions to stop when the Colonel held up his hand. He was the sole judge of the intention and imminence of enemy planes and a lot of time was thereby saved, for it had been found that those who leaped for over invariably jumped down off the road and took some time to climb back again.

It was near dusk and the tired, hungry, and thirsty Maoris were nearing the end of the climb over the first main ridge when an explosion was heard, and a little afterwards they saw the reason or cause. The road had been mined and instructions given to blow it at a certain time. Times had gone awry but the road was blown, in spite of the fact that an endless line of troops was still below it. The demolition spelt the end of any transport still coming and meant a difficult climb around it for the already dead-beat infantry.

There was, however, one bright spot which might be called the story of the unknown padre. Almost at the foot of the demolition was a well and a padre with a leaky biscuit tin attached to a line of web equipment. As fast as he could haul his tin up he filled the steel helmets of the waiting troops, who then tried to pour the liquid into their water-bottles or drank it forthwith. It was not very clean water to start with, and after you have worn a steel helmet day and night for a week it is in no shape for use as a water basin. Nobody knew that padre nor have the writer's inquiries been successful in identifying him. The Maori gratitude is best suggested by Kipling:

Hour after hour the battalion marched, hampered by the stragglers who became more numerous the farther it went. Everybody was determined that no Maori would be left behind even if the others had to carry him, and sergeants and officers dashed across the road whenever such a group was passed, taking a look at the faces of the stragglers. The Cypriots were the cause of much concern for they are of a brownish hue and, particularly from dusk onwards, easily mistaken for Maoris. To the sharp inquiry ‘You 28 Battalion?’ they shook an uncomprehending head or answered in their own tongue and the inquirer would rejoin the column.

Major Bertrand, whose military religion was march discipline which he preached with an insistence that sometimes left his listeners with tingling ears, had his reward that night. ‘I was in charge of the rear of the battalion,’ he wrote, ‘and took over all stragglers in what could be called a “Stragglers Platoon”. There was not a great number of them. The march discipline of the men was splendid and their reaction to previous strenuous training in marching and march discipline and care of feet in England and on the ship Athlone Castle on the way to ME showed the value of this part of their training. So far as I know we never lost a single man on this most arduous and nervestraining move from 42nd Street to Spakia though many of the men must have been very near breaking point at times. To my mind it was a wonderful show. To retain one's identity in the midst of so much general confusion, to emerge after several days fighting and strenuous marching and bombing from the air still a disciplined fighting unit speaks volumes for 28 Bn and makes a splendid page in their already fine history. They never lost their grip.'

Lieutenant Logan, who as a senior NCO and junior subaltern had often smarted under the Major's strictures, realised their value when the test came. He has written:

With darkness coming on, little food and after a hard day the men were moving automatically, almost insensible to time and place. It was then that I had the greatest difficulty in holding them together and keeping them moving. After the usual ten minutes halt the task would have been impossible without the assistance of men like Tainui, Matthews and several more of the really tough soldiers. As the night wore on kicks and swear words had to be used. Some of the men had almost given in and pleaded for ‘Just another five minutes and I'll be OK’ and ‘I'll catch you up but just let me have a little sleep.’ I often found myself, after ten minutes halt and sleep, rolling over on to my stomach, struggling on to my hands and knees and walking straight off from that position. Throughout the march, my batman Jim Koti56 was like a giant. A heart as big as a horse and no complaints.

They staggered over the top of the White Mountains, on to the upland Askifou Plain, halted near Sin Ammoudhari at 3 a.m., and slept where they stood.

Back at the turn-off A and B Companies had been attacked at first light and 10 Platoon (Sergeant Eddie Morgan) was, on account of mortaring, withdrawn from the forward slope of the ridge it was holding. As an alternative a Bren gun manned by Private Makoare57 of A Company and two stray Australians, who had volunteered for the job, covered the ridge from a flank.

The Maoris found that they were holding a plateau among some guns that had been abandoned and their breech blocks removed. Generally their position was not an enviable one— transport could be seen coming down the coast road towards the blown bridge, infantry had got behind them in the direction of Kalami, while others were plainly in sight streaming down the ridges on to the road to Stilos.

The Maoris were being fired on heavily when the commando captain reported that the remainder of his men had withdrawn, probably when their colleagues from Suda had passed through. A and B Companies were then, with the Canadian, his batman and the two Australians, the sole opposition to the German advanced guard. In effect, the usefulness of Royal's rearguard position had passed, for the demolished bridge led to Stilos and the enemy was pushing eastwards to Retimo and Heraklion. In addition, German patrols could be clearly seen climbing down the ridges to the road between Beritiana and Stilos.

Captain Royal decided to give his wounded a chance to escape if it was not already too late. There were a few walking and two stretcher cases in B Company and one seriously wounded and several walking cases in A Company. Four fit men were detailed to each stretcher, told to thrown away their rifles and trust to luck if they were seen. The A Company party under command of Staff-Sergeant H. Y. T. Samuel marched straight up the road and was not molested, although Samuel afterwards stated that it had passed in full view and at close range of an enemy group.

The B Company party kept off the road and managed to worm its way past parties of Germans moving across its line of march. The stretcher cases, Privates ‘Darkie’ Hall58 and Ted Leonard,59 pleaded to be left behind so that the others could have a better chance to escape. The bearers' answer was to throw away the stretchers and carry the patients. It was quicker that way. Some time during the morning the walking wounded disagreed over the route and the party divided, which accounts for the Maoris among the stragglers interrupting the attack on 23 Battalion. We must leave the other four carrying their wounded mates for the moment.

Firing died down as the morning passed. Evidently the enemy was in no hurry to gather in the stubborn opposition as there was no possibility of their escaping. Captain Royal, inclined to the same opinion, was considering the problem when he saw a tuatara with its head pointing directly over a cliff at the rear of the plateau. It is common knowledge that the tuatara exists only in New Zealand and consequently could not be in Crete; it is common knowledge that the British Army saw angels at Mons in 1914. Undoubtedly the old-time Maori god of war, Tu of the Red Eyes, had sent a sign to his people. It is no use suggesting that on Crete there may be a lizard that bears a superficial resemblance to a tuatara. To Captain Royal it was a tuatara and that is the end of it. The tuatara vanished and Royal decided to accept the omen and take his command down the apparently sheer cliff.

By this time two more men had been hit and it took over an hour to scramble down the cliff, swim a river at the bottom, and help the walking wounded along. Over the river was a field of barely, but tracer from somewhere set it alight and the troops had to run for it into a harvested field. There, like Ruth, ‘They stood amid the alien corn’ but not for the same reason—there were enemy planes overhead.

Thereafter the march was not interrupted until near Armenoi village on the road to Neon Khorion, whence it will be remembered the Australians had marched from 42nd Street. An attempt to bypass the village was turned back by enemy fire and the Maoris returned to the road. It was decided to go straight through the village and fight if necessary. Bayonets were fixed and the Maoris formed two lines—one on each side of the road, with Brens at intervals and spandaus in the rear. Royal led the column from the centre of the road with three tommy-gunners in arrowhead formation on either side of him. In this manner they passed through Armenoi without hindrance and turned off the road by a church where a path led uphill away from possible pursuit. The tail of the column had cleared the road before the Germans in the village opened fire, which was returned by Maori-operated spandaus. An enemy motorcycle section made an appearance from somewhere and got the same medicine. That was the last hazard. From there the party followed a track which brought it on to the main road behind the Australians, and eventually with its two wounded men, Corporal Mita Francis60 and Private Toi Wharewera,61 mounted on commandeered donkeys, the column caught up with eight dog-tired Maoris of B Company still carrying their wounded mates.