Petrol Company

Front Cover

Spine

Back Cover

Title Page

PETROL COMPANY

The authors of the volumes in this series of histories prepared under the supervision of the War History Branch of the Department of Internal Affairs have been given full access to official documents. They and the Editor-in-Chief are responsible for the statements made and the views expressed by them.

Petrol Dump in the Western Desert, 1940 black and white photograph of soldier unloading petrol cans

Official History of New Zealand in the Second World War 1939–45 PETROL COMPANY A. L. KIDSON WAR HISTORY BRANCH DEPARTMENT OF INTERNAL AFFAIRS WELLINGTON, NEW ZEALAND 1961 printed and distributed by WHITCOMBE AND TOMBS LTD christchurch auckland wellington dunedin hamilton lower hutt timaru invercargill london melbourne sydney perth geelong

windsor castleblack and white photograph of coat of arms Foreword

by lieutenant-general lord freyberg, vc, gcmg, kgb, kbe, dso

It is truly a pleasure and an honour for me to write the foreword to this history of a fine and efficient unit, the Divisional Petrol Company of the New Zealand Army Service Corps.

The Company went overseas with the First Echelon of the 2nd New Zealand Expeditionary Force in January 1940 and for the first year of the war served in Egypt and the Western Desert, carrying troops, ammunition and supplies ‘up the Blue’, building petrol dumps and training for the active role that lay ahead. One Section went with the Second Echelon to England, but joined the rest of the Company in Egypt in time to leave with them for Greece. Here the Company ably played its part in carrying the troops forward over mountain roads to their front-line positions, supplying them with petrol and ammunition, and in evacuating them to the beaches in the hazardous withdrawals that followed. In Crete the Company fought as infantry and carried out an unaccustomed role with distinction. At Galatas its men were in the thick of the battle; they suffered heavy casualties and many were left behind at Sfakia as prisoners of war.

In North Africa the Company again fulfilled its specialist role of supplying the Division with petrol, oil and lubricants for its transport, and it was largely through the untiring efforts of its drivers that the Division was able to carry out the long desert moves that took it from Alamein to Tunis.

I feel that our greatest contribution to New Zealand's war effort was made in the North African campaigns, a class of warfare for which New Zealanders were ideally suited. Their initiative and technical skill were well demonstrated in the Company's workshops, where its mechanics worked wonders to keep their vehicles moving. New Zealand drivers, in their turn, seemed able almost by instinct to find their way about the trackless desert, nor were they daunted in Italy by muddy tracks or mountain roads.

Throughout the war the New Zealand Army Service Corps, of which this unit was an important part, never failed us. I hope this story of the Petrol Company's endeavours will be widely read.

black and white signature of Bernard FreybergDeputy Constable and Lieutenant Governor,

Windsor Castle

7 October 1960

Acknowledgment

This is the record of a good job done by Petrol Company ‘cobbers’. All have contributed, by their deeds if not their words, and I am proud to have had the writing of the story. To those who have helped me (if only by supplying some quite unprintable anecdote) go my sincere thanks.

Since snares in the path of the amateur historian are many and horrific, a special hand must go to the staff of the War History Branch of the New Zealand Department of Internal Affairs for their patient surveillance and unremitting aid. Their knowledge of our Division, down to its last minutia, is truly encyclopaedic, and has had to be relied on, all along the way, to keep me on the rails and back in my box.

I hope the record makes fair reading.

Contents

Page foreword V 1 the birth of a unit 1 2 at sea 15 3 ‘the gorgeous east’ 25 4 desert training 35 5 ‘oh to be in england!’ 47 6 the wavell show 57 7 campaign in greece 78 8 crete 103 9 libya, 1941 145 10 syrian interlude 173 11 back to the ‘blue’ 196 12 a fateful month 213 13 eighth army conquers 227 14 the end in north africa 254 15 on to italy 282 16 all roads lead to rome 298 17 clean-up in italy 316 18 home at last 341 roll of honour 349 summary of casualties 351 honours and awards 353 officers commanding 353 index 355

List of Illustrations

Petrol Dump in the Western Desert, 1940 NZ Army Frontispiece Following page Trentham Camp, 1939 J. J. Hunter collection 16 Petrol Company lines ready for inspection J. J. Hunter collection 16 March past, Trentham Camp, October 1939 J. J. Hunter collection 16 D (Workshops) Section, Trentham, December 1939 W. B. Ross collection 16 Petrol Company about to embark on the Orion at Wellington Evening Post, Wellington 16 Workshops Section with the Vauxhall chassis which was used for lectures en route to the Middle East W. B. Ross collection 16 The first mail arrives at Maadi Camp F. W. Howell 16 Lionel Stubbs, Jerry Lyon and L. H. Lawton at Qasaba G. W. Lyon collection 32 Jack Plumtree, an English soldier and Ivan McCullum meet the Queen (now Queen Mother) at the Union Jack Club, London J. S. Plumtree collection 32 In Greece: a motor transport convoy on the road between Elevtherokhorion and Dholikhi J. M. Twhigg collection 32 New Zealand provost on point duty, Olympus Pass T. A. Goodall 32 Bill Ross, ‘Snowy’ Guy and ‘Hurricane’ Harrison near Elasson W. B. Ross 32 Marathon Beach A. S. Frame 32 A German troop-carrier from which parachutists were dropped over the prison in Crete W. B. Ross 32 At Galatas, 20 May 1941 W. B. Ross 32 The Gaol, looking towards Galatas —from a German publication, Kreta—Sieg Der Kühnsten 32 ‘The Galatas Heights’ from the Alikianou-Canea road, looking north-east E. A. Vedova 50 Civilian prisoners were used by the Germans to bring up supplies —from a German publication, Kreta—Sieg Der Kühnsten 50 Divisional Petrol Company at Helwan after evacuating Crete J. S, Plumtree 50 Crown and Anchor cloth, embroidered and autographed at Stalag VIIIB by all the Petrol Company prisoners of war taken in Crete Lee Hill 50 Company area at Helwan 50 The 5th Reinforcements arrive at Port Tewfik NZ Army 50 Workshops Section—blacksmiths' shop, Helwan, 1941 W. B. Ross collection 50 Coming through the ‘Corridor’, 1 December 1941 W. A. G. Washbourn 50 C Section men in Tobruk, 2 December 1941 W. A. G. Washbourn 66 Cookhouse at Fuka, Christmas Day, 1941 66 General Freyberg's caravan made by 13 Section, Workshops W. B. Ross 66 ‘Hori’ Perston breaks away in a rugby match at Fayid, February 1942 W. A. G. Washbourn 66 Petrol Company on the way to Syria, March 1942 W. A. G. Waskbourn 66 Workshops' cook truck stuck fast in soft sand in the Sinai Desert W. A. G. Washbourn 66 The upper reaches of the Orontes River G. W. Lyon 66 Water seller G. W. Lyon 66 Dinner-time in Syria W. B. Ross collection 134 Pulling out from Asluj, June 1942 W. A. G. Washbourn 134 Petrol Company group in the Western Desert W. B. Ross collection 134 Workshops detachment at Amiriya W. B. Ross collection 134 Mick Hall, George Ellison, Don Craig, Doug Meurk and —Hutchison R. D. Janes 134 Don Craig and Laurie Butters bedded down beside their truck R. D. Janes 134 Loading supplies W. B. Ross collection 134 Mud at Sidi Haneish, November 1942 W. A. G. Washbourn 134 Indians unload petrol from a lighter at Bardia G. W. Lyon 166 Tobruk, December 1942 G. W. Lyon 166 Convoy arrives at Saunnu, December 1942 W. A. G. Washbourn 166 Padre Holland conducts a church service at Nofilia on Christmas Day, 1942 C. A. Churchill 166 14 Section outside Tripoli, March 1943 NZ Army (H. Paton) 166 On the edge of the Sahara W. A. G. Washbourn 166 Maurie Smylie produces a batch of scones, April 1943 W. A. G. Washbourn 166 ‘500’. A game under the olive trees in Tunisia W. A. G. Washbourn 266 Marble Arch. Petrol Company convoy on the way back to Egypt G. W. Lyon collection 266 ‘Jerricans by the acre’—a petrol dump in Southern Italy, November 1943 NZ Army (G. F. Kaye) 266 17 Section at Archi, November 1943 W. A. G. Washbourn 266 Montefalcone W. A. G. Washbourn 266 A bridge near Gissi M. A. Knyvett collection 266 Trucks wait to cross the low-level Bailey bridge over the Sangro, December 1943 M. A. Knyrett collection 266 Bert Davis and Dick Davies, I Platoon, in the Atessa area M. A. Knyvett collection 266 After a heavy snowfall in the Sangro area, January 1944 M. A. Knyvett collection 266 ASC personnel march past General Freyberg, January 1944 NZ Army (G. F. Kaye) 282 3 Platoon dispersed off Route 6 near Mignano W. A. G. Washbourn 282 Hove Dump NZ Army (G. R. Bull) 282 Petrol point at Alvito, June 1944 W. A. G. Washbourn 282 Ancona M. A. Knyvett collection 282 Petrol Company vehicles in Forli M. A. Knyvett collection 282 Crossing the Po River, April 1945 H. W. Barnett 282 Maj A. C. Dickson 282 Majors G. G. Good and G. S. Forbes 282 Brigadier S. H. Crump NZ Army (G. R. Bull) 282 Maj W. A. G. Washbourn 282 Maj H. W. Barnett 282

List of Maps

Facing page Western Desert: Alexandria to Tobruk 33 Greece 67 Crete 101 El Alamein 199 Damascus to Tunis 233 Southern Italy 283 Northern Italy 317 In text Page First Libyan Campaign opens, 9-11 December 1940 72 4 and 5 Brigades Withdraw to Thermopylae, 17-19 April 1941 92 Composite Battalion, Galatas, 20 May 1941 109 Canea-Galatas sector, 22 May 1941 125 Field Maintenance Centres, November 1941 160 Eastern Mediterranean 184 Left Hook at El Agheila 247 Left Hook at Mareth 270 Gabes to Enfidaville 277 Sangro River-Orsogna area 291 New Zealand supply routes north of Cassino 310

The occupations given in the biographical footnotes are those on enlistment. The ranks are those held on discharge or at the date of death.

CHAPTER 1 The Birth of a Unit

However much the outcome of future wars may depend on atom power, or some yet-to-be-discovered source of energy, there is no doubt that petrol played a vital part in World Wars I and II. In the earlier conflict, Britain and her allies ‘floated to victory on a wave of oil’—American oil; and much of the peacetime strategy which followed aimed at the control of major oil supplies. For without oil the planes, the ships, the tanks, the transport, and other components of a military machine instantly become just so much junk.

It could be expected then, that after World War I, New Zealand authorities would hail the era of the internal combustion engine and dismiss horses from the military scene. But no. In 1919 our Army Service Corps could muster only 20 motor-trucks and cars; while by 1939 this country's total was 86 military motor vehicles of all kinds.

Germany, on the other hand, though forbidden by the Versailles Treaty to rearm, lost no time in building up for her Blitzkrieg, or lightning war, based on the use of motorised arms. She amassed vast stocks of planes, tanks, mobile guns and motor transport, and accumulated large stores of rubber, high-grade aviation fuel, motor spirit, and other petroleum products. Her High Command also created the organisation needed to keep large armies supplied with POL (petrol, oil and lubricants) during a large-scale and swift-moving military adventure.

In 1930 New Zealand abolished compulsory military training, and whittled down the NZASC from 457 all ranks to 287. By 1939 this arm had dwindled to 168, mostly Territorials, split up among the three military commands. Each of these had its own ASC company—a composite one undertaking all ASC duties and still using horse transport. Thus when World War II broke out, New Zealand had no unit specially formed or trained to supply a modern fighting force with POL, or to service its vehicles—an unpromising start for that ‘Ball of Fire’ (as Churchill later dubbed the 2 NZEF) so soon to become a spearhead in great mobile battles.

There was, in short, no New Zealand Petrol Company; and that lusty ‘babe’ which, through its ASC parentage, can trace a lineage back to the Maori Wars (when a Commissariat Transport Company used canoes and bullock drays) was still unborn.

When the call came in September 1939 for volunteers to form a Special Force, for service within or beyond New Zealand, Petrol Company components were already on hand. Gordon Trevelyan,

WO II G. A. Trevelyan, EM and bar; Lower Hutt; born Taradale, 13 Jun 1909; labourer.

for example, who claims to be the first man to register at the Wellington Area Office for service in World War II, was there and in uniform when war broke out. With him were other Territorials of 2 Composite Company, NZASC, on a weekend training course. WO II Trevelyan was then the company's sergeant-major.

Also present were three Territorial officers of the Composite Company who later held commissions in the original I New Zealand Petrol Company: Ken Ramsden,

Capt K. Ramsden; Tauranga; born England, 9 Jul 1910; builder.

John Hunter,

Maj J. J. Hunter, m.i.d.; Kiripaka, Whangarei; born England, 1 Jan 1914; clerk.

and Alex Dickson,

Maj A. C. Dickson; Tauranga; born NZ 13 Oct 1890; company manager; Divisional Train, Anzac Mtd Div (Dvr), in 1914-18 war; OC Div Pet Coy Sep 1939-Apr 1941.

Petrol Company's first OC. There, too, was the legendary Charles Graham,

Maj C. E. Graham; Wellington; born Dunedin, 10 Feb 1907; Regular soldier.

whose bleak eye and bristling moustaches dominated the Company from the day of its inception. A regular soldier, Graham became Petrol Company's first CSM—also its terror, and its pride.

Early in the morning of 4 September, Staff-Sergeant Graham called the Territorial party together and announced that New Zealand was at war. The country needed volunteers, immediately, to run supplies to hastily mobilised Guards Vital Points. Who would offer? And so, more than a week before recruiting opened for the Special Force, about twenty citizen-soldiers of the ASC had begun their war effort. Of those who that way ‘beat the pistol’ some went, eventually, into the Petrol Company.

Others got in through a temporary vagueness over their date of birth. Age limits for the Special Force were from 21 to 35; and it is said of the Petrol Company that most of its foundation members—the original ‘thirty-niners’—were either over or under age on enlistment. Some had seen service in the 1914-18 war; among the others Second-Lieutenant McCook,

Lt-Col A. F. McCook, MBE; born NZ 14 Jun 1919; civil servant; accidentally killed, Japan, 1 Jan 1947.

who served throughout the 1939-45 war and afterwards in J Force, celebrated his 21st birthday a few months after arriving in Egypt. Many were among the 5419 New Zealanders who volunteered on the first day of enlistment, 12 September 1939.

One of these was Jim Greig.

Sgt J. S. Greig; Wellington; born NZ 13 Apr 1903; sales manager; wounded 25 May 1941; p.w. 1 Jun 1941; repatriated Nov 1943.

Like Trevelyan he had done long service as a Territorial—14 years, in fact—learning the game of soldiering. And now, suddenly, here it was… the real thing. He was keen to go; but would they take him? Jim gave his age as 34, and to his relief (for somewhere the Army must have had his record) he was accepted.

It was a fine, sunny morning, Jim remembers—one of Wellington's best—and a crowd of chaps in civvies were milling round at Buckle Street, all eager, as he was, to enlist. A voice from a microphone called them to order.

‘Would the gentlemen please keep quiet and form a queue?’

Gentlemen? Gentlemen? What was this? They had no right to call him, and other old soldiers, ‘gentlemen’.

Then, later, with meaningful emphasis, the Voice intoned: ‘Would the gentleman who took a fountain-pen from the office table return it immediately—please!!’

They continued to be ‘gentlemen’ until they reached Trentham, where the fathers of some of them had trained years before. Thereafter they were called many things … but never, never gentlemen! At first it was ‘Hey, soldier!’ or ‘You there!’, a useful anonymity which vanished when faces, figures and personalities became known to those in authority.

Some made an impression quite early—a bad thing in a regime of guards and fatigues, when ‘volunteers’ were selected by the time-honoured method of pointing the finger, with a ritual chanting of ‘You—and you—and you’. To be conspicuous then just didn't pay. Nor did it pay to ‘lip’ an NCO, or even to think your thoughts at him. These things and many more (few of them in the little red books) were soon learnt by Petrol Company types in those early days. They were, in fact, ‘old soldiers’ from the word go.

Nicknames came early and stayed late—until long after the war, in fact—and the Company's characters were soon sorted up, both then and as the ‘show’ developed.

‘Why do they call me Atlas?’ asked one worried corporal, with the cares of the world resting obviously on his shoulders. There was ‘Mailbag’ Morgan,

Dvr H. W. Morgan; born NZ 8 Dec 1918; railway porter; died of wounds 19 Apr 1941.

always expecting letters (not the only one in those war days) and ‘Two-ton Tony’, ‘Hurricane’ Harrison,

Dvr I. A. Harrison; born NZ 9 May 1914; gardener; killed in action May 1941.

‘Stuka’ Livett

Dvr J. Livett; Lower Hutt; born England, 10 Oct 1905; railway workshops employee.

—not all foundation members of the Company, but all very popular, and conspicuous in its annals. Among them were ‘Doc’ Donaldson,

Sgt J. W. Donaldson; New Plymouth; born NZ 27 Sep 1908; Iorry driver.

L. D. (‘Light Duty’) Jones,

Dvr L. D. Jones; born Masterton, 20 Jul 1917; department manager.

‘Half-akker’ Neill,

Dvr N. M. Neill; born NZ 4 Jun 1918; lorry driver.

and ‘Boundary Bill’ Davis,

Capt W. M. Davis, MBE, ED, m.i.d.; Waverley; born Waverley, 21 Jan1907; farmer.

last seen well after the war riding the range on his Taranaki cow-ranch; while ‘Cocko’ Howell

Dvr F. W. Howell; Wellington; born Wellington, 6 Feb 1910; truck driver; p.w. 1 Jun 1941.

… ah, yes … ‘Cocko’ … !

Like many another, ‘Cocko’ had been celebrating his introduction to soldiering, and he arrived at Trentham station feeling rather playful. On hand to meet the draft was Petrol Company's Ken Ramsden, with two bright stars shining on each shoulder. To 6000 Private Howell, F. W., they didn't mean a thing.

‘Hey, Cocko’, he called. ‘Give us a hand with these b— bags will yer?’

And the good-natured lieutenant hoisted one battered suitcase while ‘Cocko’ struggled with another—the first and last time a Petrol Company other rank ever found an officer to act as his batman.

With ‘Cocko’ came Petrol Company recruits of every shape and size, in every variety of civilian garb, and at all stages of sobriety. Most were from Wellington city and district, and practically all had had experience in handling mechanical transport. Many had been car or truck drivers by occupation; others were skilled mechanics, fitters, panel-beaters. These last were creamed off by Lieutenant McDonagh

Capt W. G. S. McDonagh, m.i.d.; born Ireland, 13 Oct 1897; motor engineer; killed in action 20 May 1941.

to form his D (Workshops) Section.

Adapting the frame to army clothing, and the feet to army boots, was only one of the many adjustments which recruits had to make at this stage. Their quarters—bell-tents, packed with other bodies and their dunnage—were cramped and uncomfortable. There was crowding at showers and ablutions, incessant queues, irritating orders and counter-orders, endless, and sometimes senseless, restrictions on personal liberty. Most men found this irksome at first; but before long they had all shaken down to the new way of life, and to a training programme aimed at ‘producing through hardship a tough physical fitness’.

Army rations, also, took some facing up to. But meals improved as the cooks got into their stride. On the whole, Charlie Kavanagh,

Dvr C. F. Kavanagh; born Glasgow, 7 Jun 1914; labourer.

Wally Batt

Dvr W. C. Batt; Wakefield; born NZ 5 Dec 1917; storeman; p.w. 1 Jun 1941.

and Frank Briggs

Dvr F. D. Briggs; Lower Hutt; born NZ 14 Jan 1914; motor driver; wounded May 1941.

did a good job for Petrol Company in its early days, and there were few complaints. The ‘babbling brooks’ had their difficulties, too. Sometimes, through lack of proper facilities, food prepared overnight was ‘on the nose’ by morning, and had to be thrown out—followed by much scurrying around to get something else ready in time for the men's breakfast. At that stage there was no refrigeration in the unit cookhouse, and foods such as meat, milk, and jellies had to be kept in the butcher's shop, which was cool and well ventilated.

Even there the stuff was not safe, Bill Ambrose

Sgt S. W. Ambrose; Feilding; born Wellington, 20 Oct 1904; joiner.

recalls, since it was liable to contamination by smuts from the cookhouse chimney. All Petrol Company's kitchen utensils were several sizes too large. This meant that potatoes and other vegetables had to be shifted off the coal-fuelled ranges as soon as they came to the boil; for if the top layers were allowed to cook through, those on the bottom would become mash!

At this time, Bill, who later became Petrol Company's sergeant cook, was struggling to qualify as a regimental ‘spud-barber’. They sent him, he says, to Army School, where he learnt the ration scale and nothing more, then back to camp to cook for an officers' mess. In their brand-new cookhouse Bill was on velvet. He knew his pots and pans—he had done a bit of cooking on civvy street. But he had the devil's own job, he remembers, getting his 2s. 6d. a day extra-duty pay, and eventually had to go back to Army School to qualify. Another cookhouse character was the popular Charlie Hatchard,

Dvr C. W. H. Hatchard; Carterton; born NZ 4 Apr 1907; farm labourer; p.w. 1 Jun 1941.

whose skill at marching out of step got him off the parade ground and into the kitchen as a permanent fatigue. He, like most of Petrol Company, became a front-line soldier on Crete and gave a good account of himself in the fighting at Galatas.

Washing-up facilities in Trentham were poor, and a constant source of complaint. They consisted usually of two dixies containing a thick slush that had once been water, one hot, one cold. The men, after meals, approached these in queues, dipping their mugs, mess-tins and ‘eating-irons’ first into one and then into the other. Tail-enders in the queue usually found it better to skip this ritual and rinse their gear by stealth at the ablution-stand taps.

Equally deplorable was the sanitation ‘system’. At first this was on the bucket plan, each tin being fitted with a hinged lid liable to damage the user. Except for a while in the mornings these offices stank. The cans were emptied at night by convict gangs from the nearby gaol. Prisoners also removed the cookhouse swill, which had to be kept ‘clean’ and free from tins and tea leaves.

Gradually these primitive arrangements were replaced as public works contractors laboured day and night, installing hot showers, water-closets, and other amenities. They built huts and recreation halls, made roads, cleared rough land in the occupied areas, so that other drafts of the Special Force (later called the 2 NZEF) camped in comparative luxury.

But Petrol Company's first echelon had no such luck. Their lines were set on stony ground between those of Divisional Signals and 4 RMT, with 19 Battalion in the same area but on the farther flank of RMT. This layout gave rise to some lively inter-unit rivalries, with Petrol Company challenging strongly for the distinction of being the toughest unit in camp. Nor did its men hesitate to proclaim themselves the senior ASC company.

In those early training days in the spring of 1939 CSM Graham ruled the roost, skilfully scarifying both officers and men. And the troops, though they trembled, loved it.

‘Have you a sense of humour, man?’ he would bellow, face pink and moustaches bristling. ‘For by the (something-something) you'll need it before I'm finished with you!’

‘Private So-and-so!’ he once demanded. ‘What d'yer mean by coming on parade with a button undone?’ Then, as the luckless recruit looked down at the offending item: ‘That's right—call me a liar! Won't take my word for it, huh?’

On another occasion one soldier so far forgot himself as to call the Sar'nt-Major ‘Charlie’.

‘Good God, man!’ he thundered. ‘I'm pretty democratic, but I'm not that damned democratic. Call me Sir!!’

Came the day when Earle Pickering

Dvr E. V. Pickering; born NZ 20 Feb 1918; carpenter; killed in action21 May 1941.

wanted leave to get married, with Fred Davey

Sgt F. Davey; Palmerston North; born NZ 18 Apr 1917; salesman; twice wounded.

lined up as best man. Anxiously Fred approached the Orderly Room (also ruled by CSM Graham) and lodged the request. This was granted. But when routine orders were posted they showed leave allowed for the best man, but not for the bridegroom!

Approached again by Fred, who mentioned the inconvenience of a wedding without a groom, the CSM guffawed: ‘Huh! Huh! Huh! If you had any guts you'd stand in for him!’

Himself a first-class soldier (and a man among men) Graham spared no effort to turn the recruits—raw and unpromising though some of them must have seemed—into soldiers also. And in a very few weeks he had succeeded. Their parade- groundparadeground work became as good as any in the 2 NZEF, and was often watched by groups of admiring onlookers from other units who happened to be off duty, excused duty, or just not caught up with.

But training in transport work did not follow so readily. To begin with, Petrol Company had scarcely a vehicle … though Jim Greig remembers one awkward articulated six- wheclersixwhecler—impressed from heaven knows where—which he was detailed to drive to the station for a load of baggage. Secretly, by night, Sergeant Greig spent hours learning to tame this unwieldy crate, at no small risk to huts and tentage.

Then one day the OC sent a party of drivers to Palmerston North to pick up transport. This, Petrol Company's first convoy, turned out to be a mixed bag of butchers' vans, brewery wagons, and the like, plus one Diamond-T truck, an Indiana 5-ton flat-top, and a couple of Morrises. Corporals Brown

Cpl R. J. Brown; born NZ 21 Jun 1904; storeman; wounded May 1941; died 31 Dec 1953.

and Ginders

Sgt B. C. Ginders; Nelson; born Wellington, 1 May 1906; motor driver; p.w. 1 Jun 1941; escaped, Germany, Apr 1945.

helped to usher in this scratch outfit, crude forerunner of the efficient fleets the Company drove and maintained in battle areas.

Still, hopeless though the collection was by comparison, it was better than nothing, and it enabled some sort of MT training to be given. Before that, men could be seen tearing madly round at Trentham, checking the tyres, fuel and water of non-existent vehicles; obeying orders and signals to mount, dismount, advance in column to the right, deploy to the left, and so on, when there was exactly nothing to mount and dismount, or to drive and deploy. The signals were given with much vigour and arm-waving, the hands no doubt holding imaginary sabres.

The arrival of this transport also sparked the interest of Workshops (D Section) which was languishing for want of equipment, stores, spare parts, and a place to do business— also something to do business on. Their rough palms itched for the feel of spanner and grease-gun; and although there were few tools except privately-owned ones which some of the men had brought into camp with them, now at last they could be reasonably happy, probing the innards of engines, checking systems and assemblies, and generally comporting themselves in the manner proper to Workshops personnel.

Previously they had engaged in the ‘general’ or ‘basic’ training; and they still did their share of it. This was on infantry lines, and consisted of route marches (with and without respirators, rifles, packs, etc.), ‘bull-ring’, weapon training, rifle drill and PT. There was saluting to the right, the left, the front—with rifles, and without—but never, never!—without a hat. And so practised did they become at this martial exercise— saluting—that Petrol Company considered themselves not only the toughest, but the politest, unit in Trentham. But only on parade of course. In town, and around camp, they were all sadly afflicted with officer-blindness.

On 23 November came the announcement that the first contingent of the Special Force (or the First Echelon, as it was soon to be called) would shortly go overseas with Major-General Bernard Freyberg

Lt-Gen Lord Freyberg, VC, GCMG, KCB, KBE, DSO and 3 bars, m.i.d., Order of Valour and MC (Gk); born Richmond, Surrey, 21 Mar 1889; CO Hood Bn 1914-16; comd 173 Bde, 58 Div, and 88 Bde, 29 Div, 1917-18; GOC 2 NZEF Nov 1939-Nov 1945; twice wounded; Governor-General of New Zealand Jun 1946-Aug 1952.

in command. This heartened the trainees, and put a stop to rumours that the Special Force was scheduled to go on leave without pay, and return to their jobs in ‘civvy street’; or—even worse—that they would remain as a more or less permanent garrison in New Zealand base camps.

No destination was disclosed. The question depended on the attitude of Japan. But as her friendliness at that time seemed beyond doubt, the acting Prime Minister (the Hon. Peter Fraser), who was then in London, was able to advise Cabinet on 7 November that Egypt was the most suitable place for our troops. On 3 December the GOC, who was also in London after a period with the BEF in France, requested that an advance party of 50 other ranks be sent immediately to Egypt, to prepare for the arrival of the main body.

This advance party included Petrol Company's CQMS (Cecil Broomfield

S-Sgt C. H. Broomfield; born NZ 21 Jun 1907; presser; wounded Dec 1940; wounded and p.w. 1 Jun 1941.

), Sergeant Macphail

Maj I. C. Macphail; Otane, Hawke's Bay; born Glasgow, 22 Jun 1907; sheep farmer; wounded 20 May 1941; p.w. 25 May 1941; repatriated Oct 1943; DAA & QMG, 2 NZEF(UK), 1945-46.

and Driver Cassin.

Dvr P. J. Cassin; Wellington; born Wellington, 27 Aug 1912; motor driver; wounded May 1941.

On 11 December it left Wellington for Sydney in TSS Awatea, and eventually reached Suez on 7 January. Meanwhile the rest of the Company carried on, with ‘the mixture as before’— square-bashing, route marches, guards and fatigues, queues and reviews, inspections, injections, and objections. Woven into the pattern were such minor disasters as an epidemic of'flu which curtailed leave, a howling southerly that blew down all the tents, and an OC addicted to bagpipes.

Captain Dickson (known variously as ‘Sandy’, ‘A.C.D.’, or ‘Granny’) made a meticulous company commander and showed keen interest in the welfare of his men. He had served in the First World War, and then for many years as a Territorial officer. Lieutenants Hunter and Ramsden took over A and C Sections respectively; Second-Lieutenant McCook was Adjutant, Lieutenant McDonagh (another World War I veteran) Workshops Officer. Sergeants for A, C, and D Sections were W. F. Browne,

Sgt W. F. Browne; Lower Hutt; born Wellington, 15 Aug 1906; stores manager; wounded 23 May 1941.

Les Cowen,

WO II L. C. H. Cowen; born Sydney, 1 Jun 1914; draughtsman.

and Jim Greig, with Harry Barnett

Maj H. W. Barnett, OBE, m.i.d.; Wellington; born NZ 26 Feb 1906; motor mechanic; OC Div Pet Coy Feb-Oct 1945; comd ASC J Force 1946.

as Mechanist Sergeant in D Section, and Alec Rusden

Lt A. S. Rusden; Upper Takaka; born Wanganui, 2 Feb 1913; clerk; p.w.29 Nov 1941; repatriated Jul 1943.

as orderly-room sergeant. B Section then existed only on paper; it was to be comprised of Second Echelon men.

Came a sobering moment when members of the Wellington Law Society arrived in camp to help soldiers make their wills, free of charge. About the same time Petrol Company got their ‘meat tickets’—identification discs stamped with name, regimental number, religion and blood-group.

Some of the ‘hard shots’ began to play up, on the principle of ‘roosters today, feather dusters tomorrow’; and Fred Davey got three days' pack-drill for back-chatting the CSM. On the first day, conveniently ‘forgetting’ this sentence, Fred hailed himself, after training, to the wet canteen. But CSM Graham had not forgotten; in such matters his memory was infallible. Fred was hauled off under escort, to shoulder a large pack filled with sand, and thus saddled to pound the bull-ring. Next night Fred didn't wait for an escort. He got to the bull-ring early. There he emptied the troublesome pack and refilled it with paper, sprinkling a little sand on top.

Other martial exploits involving the Company about this time were the silencing of one camp bugler's instrument by stuffing it with paper and the choking of the OC's chanter with cheese. This was done with due regard for medical ethics by the RMO, Lieutenant Lomas.

Maj A. L. Lomas, MC, m.i.d.; New Plymouth; born Wanganui, 30 Jun1916; medical practitioner; DADMS 2 NZ Div Aug 1943-Apr 1944.

Of more sanguinary character were the occasional skirmishes with the neighbouring infantry; while proceedings were also enlivened by a spot of mutiny when a band of revellers set out to ‘crown’ Sergeant Greig with a latrine can.

Less easily dealt with were the night operations of a pocket of banshees. These employed nuisance tactics after lights out by emitting blood-curdling howls and wolf-calls. Chief casualties were the peace of mind of certain officers, and of the orderly sergeant detailed to deal with the situation. The methods of the infiltrators were simple enough: from somewhere down the line of darkened tents a solitary yowl would arise—to be answered by another and then another, until the whole area was at it.

Urged on by his superiors, the maddened NCO would pounce, swiftly raise a tent-flap, and shine his torch on the faces of the men—only to find them all snoring peacefully! In time the powers-that-were learned sense; they forbore to take the matter seriously, and so the operation gradually fizzled out.

Meanwhile brows were puckering and lights were burning late in Trentham orderly rooms as the final touches were put to plans for embarkation. On 14 December—while HMS Achilles was pursuing the German battleship Admiral Graf Spee somewhere off the mouth of the River Plate—the First Echelon was placed on active service. The men were given a fortnight's final leave, free travel warrants to their home or place of enlistment, and were paid a £3 gratuity. The war was now a distinct step nearer.

In their home towns the men were feted, given parties, receptions, farewells. Many received gifts; while it was clear from the speeches that most people now realised that this war, despite some phoney aspects, did have its more serious side. Not in the same street, of course, with World War I; but serious enough to involve New Zealand lives, to affect New Zealand homes and ways of life. The recruits themselves were far from dismayed. They enjoyed the fun-and-games, went on the ‘scoot’, and were happy to spend Christmas at home— the last for years for most of them; for others, the last ever.

By New Year, 1940, Petrol Company and the rest were back on the old beat at Trentham, but with a difference. Tents and tucker were much the same; new buildings had gone up; there were freshly-tarred roads between the lines. But the big change was in the men themselves. They were maturer now, more self-assured. They had assumed the mantle of the Anzacs; and they walked with brisk step and chin held high, as though they realised that on them, and their like, hung the fate of civilisation.

But that did not damp their ebullience. As ‘Y’ Day approached—the date for embarkation—Petrol Company personnel showed increased signs of mounting spirits and a disposition to ‘kick over the traces’ … to have a last fling (or a whole series of them) before plunging into the hazards of war. And despite the vigilance of NCOs and pickets, many took unofficial leave in the city, some staying overnight, but invariably showing up in time for the morning muster.

Though every man was by now hard and fit, their ASC training had been hampered by lack of MT and other equipment. This was noted by the GOC, who had arrived from England on Christmas Day. The troops, he reported, would need a further period of training at their place of disembarkation, and would not be fit for war for another three months. There they would get their vehicles and other equipment, as arranged with the British War Office.

Both the destination and the date of sailing remained undisclosed, although detailed embarkation orders had been arriving at unit headquarters since 20 December. On 3 January 1940 an order marked ‘Secret’ informed the ASC that ‘Y’ Day for them was 5 January, and that when they entrained at Trentham station NCOs were to be ‘posted one at each door of each carriage to prevent unauthorised ingress or egress of personnel’. The order went on to say:

‘O.C. trains will ensure that all personnel know that owing to small clearance between railway carriages and cranes, all windows must be kept closed to ensure that no hands are put out, nor should NCOs on duty in each carriage leave the doors of carriages to look over iron gates’. Things were beginning to move at last. But either this message was mis-typed, or the authorities were more concerned about hands than heads!

Many were disappointed, no doubt, to read (in Embarkation Order No. 2) that ‘swords and scabbards will not be carried by officers, and will not be taken overseas’. Of more interest to Petrol Company was the instruction that ASC personnel would not take with them ‘frogs, web, bayonet’, though this provision did not absolve them from further dull periods of infantry training on board ship and at their destination.

On 3 January all leave for the First Echelon ceased. In the morning Petrol Company, along with the rest, took part in a ceremonial parade through Wellington. Their marching was judged fully equal to that of the infantry, though some hold that its excellence on this occasion was due to the strategic placement of a pipe band (through the influence of Captain Dickson) just in front. There was also a complaint that the officers, not carrying rifles, forgot to give orders to change arms; so some men arrived back at Trentham sore both in temper and shoulder. In the afternoon the camp was open to visitors.

Two days later Petrol Company, loaded with baggage, scrambled aboard troop-train C2 at Trentham station. By 9.20 a.m. they were waving farewell, with more of irony than real regret, to the camp that had been their home for three months. And so they set out on the long eventful Odyssey which was to lead them into many lands, and across many seas, in defence of their homeland. At 10.4 a.m. they arrived in Wellington. By noon they had embarked.

Their ship was the Orion, still equipped with the trimmings of a passenger liner. As HM (NZ) Transport Z4 she carried on that trip 1428 troops, and did it in style. Privates and corporals found unexpected comfort in their four-berth cabins—reading lamps, wash-hand basins, wardrobes. Officers and sergeants fared even better, with access to smoking-rooms and lounges. For all ranks there were swimming baths, deck games, wet and dry canteens. Little wonder that the troops showed a disposition to wallow; and Petrol Company NCOs had trouble at first getting some of their men to ‘show a leg’.

At 2 p.m. Z4 moved out into the stream, to the sound of cheering, shouting, and the hooting of sirens from on shore. For despite all efforts at secrecy, a large crowd had gathered at the wharves to watch the troops embark, while the hills overlooking the harbour were thronged with people. Other ships in the convoy were the Empress of Canada (carrying 809 all ranks), the Strathaird (1350), and the Rangitata (442), with their naval escort HMS Ramillies and HMAS Canberra.

Next day, 6 January, at 6 a.m. the fleet steamed out into Cook Strait, there to make rendezvous with the Sobieski (1145 all ranks) and the Dunera (1355) bringing troops from the South Island, under escort of HMS Leander. The ships formed up in convoy order, then steamed west toward the Tasman. Overhead, aircraft of the Royal New Zealand Air Force dipped their wings in salute, as another New Zealand Expeditionary Force—the second within a generation—set out from its homeland.

CHAPTER 2 At Sea

In their snug quarters on ‘C’ deck Petrol Company's 165 other ranks soon shook down to shipboard life. From Cabin 15, Sergeant Greig wrote in his diary:

2nd Day Out, Sunday, 7/1/40

Lifebelt and trousers handy to bed, ready for all hands in case of emergency.

Oil and flannelette issue for rifles.

Lectures by Lt McDonagh, Sgt Barnett, Pte Ross

1S/Sgt W. B. Ross, m.i.d.; Wellington; born Dunedin, 24 Sep 1909; auto-electrician; wounded 27 May 1941.

and Pte Williams, L. J.

2WO II L. J. Williams; Hastings; born Wellington, 19 Jun 1912; motor engineer; wounded 20 May 1941.

Beautiful and calm today. 14 hours out from Wgtn. Troops settling down. Slight swell last night caused a spot of seasickness…. Church parade 1100 hrs a great success. Deck quoits and tennis good sport.

3rd Day Out, Monday, 8/1/40

Orderly Sergeant today. Very quiet. The heat down below on ‘F’ deck where O/Room is situated became rather oppressive and I was inclined to feel the motion of the ship somewhat. However, was not sick—pictures on tonight—looked in for few minutes but atmosphere was stifling so did not stay. Harry Barnett and myself had to go out on deck to inspect covering over Vauxhall chassis. Owing to black-out it was very hard to find one's way about. We could just discern the silhouette of the accompanying vessels.

Saw school of porpoises at dusk—they follow one another and are great to watch.

4th Day Out, Tuesday, 9/1/40

Still another fine day. Woke up feeling much refreshed after good sleep.

Despite white-caps our ship rides well–must be getting used to the motion now as today I have not felt it in the least.

Meals are great—our waiter, George, is a wizard at his job. This morning, Empress of Canada left her position behind our ship and tore past over the horizon with Ramillies and Canberra as escort.

Reported she has gone to Sydney for oil. Also that she has Gen. Freyberg aboard.

Subsequent information proved this statement correct for once! Gen. F. flew to Egypt from Sydney. Empress anchored near Sydney Bridge for 3 hours only and then left to rejoin convoy.

Vaccination today.

5th Day Out, Wednesday, 10/1/40

Saw a whale this afternoon, and some of the boys report seeing sharks.

A great day again. Weather marvellous, and sea very calm this morning. We notice the heat of the sun increasing as we near Australia.

Owing to vaccinations we are not allowed to wet the vaccinated part of our left arm–it is amusing to watch the chaps walking about in the swimming-pool holding one arm out of the water all the time.

Empress of Canada rejoined us this morning. Coast of Australia is visible on the horizon and we are supposed to be near Sydney. Aeroplanes have flown over the convoy today. The first batch of Aussie ships joined us at 2 p.m.—four large troopships, reported to be Orcades, Strathmore [Strathnaver], Orford and another, together with escorting cruisers. We are now proceeding towards Melbourne to pick up some more. Steve just came in with Special Force Badges —the first out.

6th Day Out, Thursday, 11/1/40

Fine weather continues. We are not far from the Australian Coast and are all wondering where we are going. General opinion favours Fremantle as definite port of call, but as usual nobody knows.

All allotted boat stations today, and from now on parade twice daily at boat stations. Good idea, and after a few days of it all of us should find our way to boat stations in the dark.

Trentham Camp, 1939 black and white photograph of view of tents

Spick and span—Petrol Company lines ready for inspection black and white photograph of tents

March past black and white photograph of parade

D (Workshops) Section, Trenthaim, December 1939 black and white photograph of group of soldiers

Trentham Camp, October 1939 black and white photograph of parade

Petrol Company about to embark on the Orion at Wellington black and white photograph of soldiers getting on ship

Workshops Section with the Vauxhall chassis which was used for lectures en route to the Middle East black and white photograph of group of soldiers

The first mail arrives at Maadi Camp black and white photograph of soldiers reading letters

Kit inspection today. Several aeroplanes observed again. Am thoroughly used to motion of ship now and would like to see a bit of rough weather (but not too rough!). Convoy now comprises 10 troopships and escorts. A great gathering of mercantile tonnage— what a chance for the enemy! ‘D’ Section had best kit inspection today. Deck tennis with Charley, Ben Cooper

3Capt A. B. Cooper; Wellington; born NZ 14 Jan 1914; Regular soldier.

and Les Cowen. All good sports.

* * * * *

And so the time slipped by, pleasantly enough, on a crisp sunny crossing of the Tasman. The Orion rode easily on a rising swell, and only the most squeamish were affected. At six o'clock each morning, 18 Battalion's bugler played a persistent reveille, Petrol Company responded reluctantly, and the day's business began. First came PT, taken with the infantry, and usually including much joyful horseplay with the battalion's medicine ball. Showers followed, then breakfast. All mess parades were compulsory, whether one ate or not.

Training programmes took up most of the morning and afternoon, while during each forenoon the ship was inspected by its Commander, the OC Troops, and others. Lunch was served in the ship's dining room at noon, dinner at 5 p.m.; lights out was at 10.30 p.m. For training there were lectures by unit officers and NCOs, rifles to be cleaned and inspected, sand-tray demonstrations of tactics. Even route marches were achieved, by dint of much dodging around deck gear and fittings. The cut-down Vauxhall chassis mentioned in Sergeant Greig's diary was used for instruction in the principles of the internal combustion engine.

And if any man imagined that embarkation meant the end of pickets and fatigues he was soon disillusioned. Each day the unit for duty supplied a ship's guard consisting of three officers, a sergeant, a corporal, and six other ranks, to protect the ship's armoury and keep troops away from out-of-bounds areas. Besides this there were lifeboat guards, ship's police, pickets; fatigues for the bakehouse, the butchery, the galleys. Petrol Company supplied its own mess orderlies, took turns at scrubbing decks, cleaning latrines, mopping out shower rooms. With all this went the endless ‘Do's’ and ‘Don'ts’ of routine orders, all manner of checks and inspections, and every so often another jab from the MO's needle. So one way and another the voyage was no Cook's Tour, despite the rosy versions that appeared in some home papers.

In two-hour watches throughout the day submarine lookouts scanned the water within a mile of the ship, seeking torpedoes or periscopes. Also manned during hours of daylight were machine-gun posts for protection against attack by low-flying aircraft. Gunners were forbidden to fire, however, without specific orders from a ship's officer on the bridge.

In their off-duty hours the troops did not lack amusement. Like soldiers everywhere they gambled at cards and dice, despite official vetoes and occasional swoops by the Military Police. Needless to say, these measures were generally foiled by the watchfulness of the soldiery; so poker, pontoon, crown-and- anchor and the like continued to flourish, along with housie-housie. This had official sanction and was heavily patronised, some schools numbering well over a hundred.

Deck-games and sports contests also had their vogue, while there were swimming carnivals, ‘race meetings’ (complete with totalisator), concerts, films, community singing. For the quieter types there were books to read, letters to write; long yarns with cronies on a lee deck, or over a pot of ale; hours spent watching the swirl of wake and waters, endlessly fascinating at night, when a phosphorescent fire lit the surface; while close by crept those faint ghosts, the other vessels, with no light showing in the whole vast silent convoy.

Friday, 12 January, brought a ripple of excitement. Early risers saw land, and a lighthouse, only a few chains off. For many, this view of Wilson's Promontory, south-east of Melbourne, was their first sight of another country, and they gazed enthralled. Others took one look at the now-heaving waters and returned in haste to their bunks. Australia could wait… or sink, if it liked! During the night a wind had risen. The day broke cold and boisterous, and continued that way. On the starboard bow HMS Ramillies slashed her way through mountingmounting waves in a slather of foam, a magnificent sight. At midday the Empress of Japan nosed out from Port Phillip Bay and joined the convoy.

Next day the wind abated. The ships cleared Bass Strait and entered the Australian Bight. Though still cool the weather was pleasant, especially in the sun on a lee side; and sun- batherssunbathers crowded the upper decks. But the fine spell was short- livedshortlived. Sunday the 14th was the roughest day out, with high seas and a howling wind. All parades except boat-drill were cancelled. Attendances at mess reached an all-time low. That day Petrol Company received their white ASC shoulder flashes. Badges also were issued—of good design, but poor material, one driver records. Sergeant Greig continues:

10th Day Out, Monday, 15/1/40

Sea moderating somewhat. Feel better again, thank Heaven! Quite a few chaps were down to it yesterday and last night. Thank goodness we have decent quarters; it would not be so good in an old-fashioned troopship! ! !

Petrol Company for duty today. Relieved Harry [Barnett] as Guard Sgt for a few hours to allow him to lecture. Very quiet day on the whole.

Quite a few porpoises about.

Boat drill parade 8.40 p.m. Was not quite dark but anticipate we will be having an emergency call one night before long. The clocks go back another hour tonight—this puts us four hours behind New Zealand time now.

11th Day Out, Tuesday, 16/1/40

Rather a rough sort of night. We were broadside on to the weather for some hours last night, and one damned near rolled out of bed. The ship groaned and creaked, doors were slamming all night and I could not sleep after 4 a.m. However, I was not sick, and feel O.K. this morning. At the same time I have just realised that I have cut out smoking!

We had a mock aeroplane attack this morning and all had to keep below decks.

Many of us are feeling sick—not from seasickness but possibly after-effects of vaccination.

All ranks are looking forward to getting into Fremantle—even though we probably won't get leave it will be good to see shore life once again from the distance.

Excitement mounted as Z4 approached Fremantle. Men crammed the rails, and those with binoculars scanned the horizon. Late in the morning of 18 January land was sighted. By 5 p.m. the Orion had berthed; and the news soon spread round: ‘Shore leave for all, until midnight’. Then—trust the Army—there was a hold-up, over pay. Petrol Company, like the rest, were broke. Must they go ashore like that? It seemed so. Then, at last, the happy word came: ‘Pay in the Orderly Room at 2000 hours.’ Each other rank drew one pound Australian and was debited 16s. in his paybook, his ‘earnings’ having been put on a sterling basis from the time he left New Zealand.

Fortunately for the troops, hotels and business places stayed open late; so in both Perth and Fremantle the men saw ‘beer and soldiers everywhere’. Military brass-hats took a tolerant view of any exuberant horseplay, while the citizens were amused and happy to watch the antics of this first contingent— the forerunner of many—to arrive from ‘the other side’. Magnificently they played Australia's traditional role of Big Brother to the New Zealanders, helping rather than hindering the high jinks, and contriving to keep the visitors out of trouble, if not out of mischief. While most soldiers were pretty well behaved, many were ‘jobs’ by the time leave ceased at midnight; and with the Company rostered as unit for duty, some went on guard straight away… a poor preparation for next day's ‘star turn’.

This was the now-famous march from Fremantle to Perth by all troops from Z4. Before they left the ship the men were given the option of marching to Perth or staying on board. It was a chance to get extra leave ashore and most chose to march, even though they would be marching in army boots for the first time after a fortnight in deck shoes—to say nothing of their capers the night before.

Zero hour was 10 a.m., on a crisp, sunny morning. Headed by a band, the troops set off in fine fettle. It was good to be on land again—to be soldiers again, and not ruddy seamen. Good to be hailed and cheered by cooee-ing Aussies, who lined the roadway along the whole 14-mile route, handing out fruit, soft drinks, chewing gum, beer, offering lifts in their cars and taxis. Good to see arid smell the bluegums, to see the girls in their summer dresses. Everything was absolutely good—at first!

Then, as mile gave way to weary mile, joy faded out. The sun climbed, and so did the temperature, to up around 95 degrees. Sweat ran from every pore; but the men trudged on, eyes fixed doggedly on the back of the man ahead. Or on his heels. ‘Boots, boots, boots, boots, moving up and down again.’ Even Trentham had never been like this; and Kipling's lines came back to many with a new significance. For some the ordeal was heightened by sore arms and throbbing heads after the recent vaccination. But all of Petrol Company stuck it out and marched, with head erect and arms swinging, into the centre of Perth city just three hours forty minutes after leaving the ship's side.

Then, for half an hour or so, the good burghers of Perth witnessed a scene never before or since enacted there: both sides of Swan Street—the city's main thoroughfare—were lined with barefooted soldiers, sitting on the sidewalk clutching handles of beer, while they bathed their naked feet in the cool running water of the gutters.

Recovery was quick and complete. In no time the Kiwis had again ‘taken’ the city and made it their playground. The citizens looked on, tolerant or amused, while New Zealanders drove trams, directed traffic, swiped policemen's helmets, or manoeuvred motor-cars into impossible positions. As one Petrol Company driver remarked: ‘No one offered us the freedom of the city. We just took it.’

Perth opened its heart and its homes to all. Hotels ‘turned it on’, with counter-lunch and hot baths on the side. Every family, almost, took in soldiers for rest and refreshment, afterwards treating them to drives and excursions, picnics and parties. Some men went exploring on their own; and Petrol Company's Pat Rumney

4Dvr H. P. Rumney; Palmerston North; born Wanganui, 1 Oct 1918; clerk; wounded 20 May 1941; p.w. 28 May 1941; repatriated Jan 1945.

eventually found himself with a couple of cobbers amid pleasant parklands on the outskirts. They rested on smooth lawns, cooled themselves under water-sprinklers, slept in the shade of leafy trees. Then they rubbed their eyes. A servant-girl was bringing them afternoon tea, on a tray. They had wandered into the grounds of the Governor of Western Australia.

The convoy cleared Fremantle next afternoon. On board the Orion, Petrol Company's Peter Winter

5Sgt P. L. Winter; born NZ 28 Jan 1918; journalist; p.w. 1 Jun 1941.

and Joe Stratford,

6Dvr J. J. Stratford; Lower Hutt; born Wellington, 30 Jan 1916; agent; p.w. 1 Jun 1941.

with Private Hirsch

7Capt J. C. Hirsch; South Africa; born South Africa, 7 Nov 1914; journalist; wounded and p.w. 22 Sep 1942.

of 18 Battalion, got down to the business of producing a ship's magazine. First issue of their ‘N.Z. Abroad’, illustrated with some clever black-and-white sketches by Frank Ritchie

8Cpl C. D. F. Ritchie; born NZ 2 Oct 1916; labourer.

(also of Petrol Company) came out on 26 January. The forerunner of many service periodicals, this was a notable production. It led off with a message and introduction by Lieutenant-Colonel Crump, OBE,

9 Brig S. H.Crump, CBE, DSO, m.i.d., Bronze Star (US); Lower Hutt; born Wellington, 25 Jan 1889; Regular soldier; NZASC 1915-19; Commander NZASC, 2NZ Div, 1940-45; comd 2 NZEF, Japan, Jun-Sep 1947; on staff HQ BCOF and NZ repve on Disposals Board in Japan, 1948-49.

Commander of the NZASC, and OC Troops on Transport Z4:

I sincerely appreciate the privilege of being allowed the opportunity of contributing the introduction to this magazine particularly because we have created a record, in that this vessel carries the greatest number of soldiers that has ever left New Zealand in one ship. This superlative also applies to the ship, its officers, and crew.

This magazine will be held and valued by us as a token of a very enjoyable trip, during which was born that cameraderie such as develops in no other sphere of life.

We set out on this great adventure not knowing what is before us, but we do know that our greatest job is to get fit and keep fit so that we can fulfil the task before us.

Enough said! Let's pull up the curtain.

Then followed congratulations to that same officer on the anniversary of his birthday (25 January), with the observation that the poet Burns was born on the same day. Following which comes the sly quotation:

O wa'd some po'er the giftie gie us Tae see oorsel's as ithers see us

The magazine also contained side-kicks in verse and prose at prominent personalities; aspersions on shipboard and army life; and the following satire, redolent of an era now past, on German propaganda reports:

UNOFFICIAL WAR NEWS (Per Latrinogram)

One of the heaviest air attacks in the present war was launched on a German port by the Allies yesterday. According to a German radio station, no fewer than 50 British planes took part in the attack. On the approach of the enemy, two German fighter planes intercepted the British squadrons and successfully drove off the invaders, twelve of which were shot down and 19 were seen to disappear over the horizon in flames. The German machines both returned to their base undamaged. The Iron Cross was not awarded to the German airmen as such victories have now become an everyday occurrence.

Also in the magazine were references to ‘cheese, which certain persons inserted in the vitals of Capt. Dickson's bagpipes on New Year's Eve’; a ‘public denial’ by ‘one Charles Graham of the Div Pet Coy’ that he was in the habit of using Hood's Healthful Hair Restorer ‘or any other stimulant’ to encourage the growth on his upper lip; and a verdict on the ship's grog that ‘it looks like beer, it smells like beer, but it tastes like—’. Regarding the march to Perth it comments: ‘We made a triumphal entry, the band at our head. Our feet were blistered, our limbs were stiff, our thoughts were quite unspeakable….’ Again concerning Perth: ‘Army's procedure of lining up for everything from pay to patches becomes a habit. A number of soldiers were observed in a certain popular street recently trying to arrange themselves in alphabetical order’.

From the second number of ‘N.Z. Abroad’ come the following bright splinters: ‘The submarine lookout peered intently through his binoculars, never shifting his eyes from the ocean. Something had crossed his line of vision. Yes, there it was again … now he was certain … excitedly he turned to his fellow lookout, and shouted: “These bloody flying-fish do flap their wings!”’

And, again with Charlie Graham ‘in the gun’:

THE C.S.M There were upturned whiskers on the face, Of a strangely ginger hue, And a horrid look of grim distaste, That made me feel quite blue. Before my face it reared its head, A head that turned quite pink, And a voice from through the whiskers said, ‘Your denims simply stink!’

CHAPTER 3 ‘The Gorgeous East’

Keeping fit was the order of the day as the convoy headed for Colombo. Unauthorised items of equipment, e.g., Aussie badges and slouch hats, were called in, and shipboard routine continued as before. On 27 January—a clear, sunny Saturday—Petrol Company held its swimming-pool sports, the main events being contests on the greasy pole and diving for spoons.

That afternoon a race meeting, complete with ‘tote’ and printed programmes, was held for the whole ship on ‘A’ Deck. Six races—five heats and a final—were run for the Z4 Cup, won by Petrol Company with their ‘nag’ Quin's Post. Their jockey, Corporal Gilmore,

12 Lt A. A. Gilmore, BEM; born Glenbrook, 9 Dec 1912; farmer; killed in action May 1941.

was tipped as a good safe man, straight as a die; and one of his followers, backing solidly on the sixpenny tote, won eighteen shillings—the price of fifty-four canteen beers. The meeting went as briskly as a day at Riccarton or Ellerslie, and sixpences were hazarded with reckless abandon.

THE ORION RACING CLUB

INDIAN OCEAN MEETING

Programme of Races

I PAPAKURA STAKES Nominator Horse Jockey 1. Cpl T. G. Clarke's (HQ Coy) Dirty Buttons By Nitwit out of Stupidity Pte Daniels 2. Div Petrol Coy's Blisters By Route March out of Army Boots Pte H. Parkin 3. Hon. K. S. Thompson's(A Coy) Thirst By Route March out of Fremantle Steve Goodmanson 4. Div Ammunition Coy's Last Shot By Big Gun out of Ammunition Pte H. Brady 5. W. E. Waine's Hauraki By Kia Kaha out of Dirty Dixie Darky Lawson

II QUIN'S POST SCURRY Nominator Horse Jockey 1. Div Petrol Coy's No Leave By French Leave out of Trentham Sgt L. C. H. Cowen 2. Aga Preston's General Malaise By Vaccination out of Emmo Hector Bevin 3. Div Ammunition Coy's Many Miles By Cripes out of New Zealand Sgt N. F. Chissell 4. Nawab of Anderson's Master Anzac By Enzed out of After Perth Steve Hankin 5. Res Motor Trsp Coy's Tawdry By Badges out of Jewel Packet Sgt Thompson

III ROSE STREET GUINEAS Nominator Horse Jockey 1. Pte Gumdigger's (C Coy) Glittering By Glen Allen's Pride out of Brasso Ray Gibb 2. Res Motor Trsp Coy's Hope By Rum out of Jar Pte Reynolds 3. Happy Alf Hanscombe's (D Coy) Handle By Barman out of Barrel Tap Wee Angus Mackay 4. Div Petrol Coy's Quin's Post By Hophead out of Barrel Cpl A. A. Gilmore 5. Hon. Simple Simon's (I Reinf) Pukkah Soldier By Detail out of Reinforcement Hector Blundell

IV WAIT-FOR-AGE HANDICAP Nominator Horse Jockey 1. Major M. Petrie's Pride of Papakura By CO's Orders out of Dormitory Tiny Matheson 2. Lieut-Col S. H. Crump's Scrim By Scram out of Tirau Capt Hood 3. Major J. Peart's Gray Nurse By Colonel Scar out of Sonoma Sonoma Bob 4. Capt G. H. Whyte's Daze By Changing Orders out of Orderly Room Lieut F. H. Muller 5. Major W. Evans' Sensation By Burst out of Bathing Costume Mo Sutton

V THE 5 P.M. COMMODORE'S CANTER Nominator Horse Jockey 1. Div Ammunition Coy's Discipline By Perspiration out of OC Pte F. J. Wells 2. Cpl Bristow's Men's Mess By Stew out of Scrag Pte Harland 3. Res Motor Trsp Coy's Sandy's Fury By Over the Fence out of Trentham Pte Annear 4. Sgt Robinson's(Bn HQ) Carlsberg By Barrel out of Auckland Pte Gentil 5. Div ASC HQ's Hair Cut By Just out of Mt Eden Pte Reid

VI THE Z-4 CUP 1. Winner of First Race: Dirty Buttons 2. Winner of Second Race: No Leave 3. Winner of Third Race: Quin's Post 4. Winner of Fourth Race: Pride of Papakura 5. Winner of Fifth Race: Hair Cut Winner: Quin's Post

By now the Company knew that its destination was the Middle East. The men attended lectures by the MO and others on life and ways in Egypt–that ‘Land of Sin, Sand, and Syphilis’. They listened respectfully and made their own resolutions, though not always on the lines their superiors intended. On 28 January, at 9.55 p.m., the Orion crossed the Equator. Two days later the convoy reached Colombo.

This was for most men their first acquaintance with ‘the gorgeous East’ and they gazed enthralled. The colour, the palm-trees, the sprawling city, the vast conglomeration of shipping—cruisers, liners, tugs; barges and sampans—brewed a potent magic. And like magic, too, appeared a swarm of dancing small craft, piled high with bananas, oranges, pine- applespineapples, coconuts; cigars and cigarettes; curios. Brisk bargaining followed; and the troops, well-placed for the use of plunging fire, hurled down banter, abuse, orange skins, pineapple tops, and a little small-change. They had just been paid in annas and rupees—another enchanting novelty—but only to the tune of sixteen shillings; so they could not afford to be lavish.

Before going on leave the men had been solemnly adjured to spend the lot, for Ceylon money would not be accepted later by the ship's canteens. They were also warned against (a) the risk of venereal and other diseases then rife in Colombo; and (b) unseemly behaviour, which might lower the prestige of Ceylon's white minority. With these provisos, and to the full extent of their sixteen shillings, the city was theirs until 4.30 p.m.

Petrol Company personnel left the ship by lighter at 11 a.m. and as they approached the shore, Lionel Stubbs

2Sgt L. H. Stubbs; Auckland; born Oamaru, 20 Oct 1905; cartage contractor; twice wounded.

recalls, they saw a detachment of Aussies converging on the same wharf. It was a toss-up which barge would be the first to make it, and the troops eyed each other. ‘Although we had travelled in the same convoy, these were the first Aussie troops we'd seen, in bulk. We were curious. Both lots remained silent; then, when we were only a stone's throw apart, one big Kiwi burst out: “You ugly-looking pack of B—'s.” Suitable replies were received from the Aussies!’

British residents of Colombo extended hospitality, some on a lavish scale. But white faces were few amid the seething mass of undersized natives—the great unwashed—jostling, jabbering, gesticulating; driving their giant-wheeled bullock-carts through crowded streets; plying various trades upon the side- walkssidewalks; spitting out streams of scarlet betel juice. The soldiery milled through the squalid warrens of the native quarter, where filthy tenements housed hordes of humans. Petrol Company men roamed the city, frequented bars and eating-places. They watched the snake-charmers, and haggled with natives for knick-knacks to send back home. Some rode in rickshaws, sometimes racing similar vehicles pulled by brawny Aussies, while petrified coolies—the erstwhile steeds—sat goggle-eyed inside.

Back on board that night the men enjoyed the luxury of sleeping with portholes open and no blackout. Next day HMS Sussex, anchored next to the Orion, invited the latter's sergeants to inspect their ship. About sixty accepted, and moved off to an inevitable accompaniment of jeers and catcalls. A whole boatload of sergeants… what an opportunity!

But no chance arose for anything but wishful thinking; and the party proceeded on a mission that turned out to be no picnic. They spent two gruelling hours mounting and descending companionways, tramping decks, inspecting gun-turrets, engine-rooms, boilers, propeller shafts—all this round midday, close to the Equator, with water, water all around, and not a drop to drink—no beer, anyway. Sussex, they learned, had trailed the Admiral Graf Spee in the South Atlantic, and had been unlucky to miss contact by a mere hundred miles.

No leave from Z4 on this second day, and Divisional Petrol Company struck guard again. Routine orders announced the promotion of Sergeant H. W. Barnett, D (Workshops) Section, to staff-sergeant, this winning general approval as Harry was popular with both officers and men. He also knew his stuff as a mechanist-instructor. Next day (1 February) the convoy left Colombo, escorted by the Ramillies, Sussex and Hobart, and with a new member, the French troopship Athos II, bound for French Somaliland. Another addition to the fleet was the aircraft-carrier Eagle, one of whose planes dived, later on, into the Red Sea.

By now the novelty of shipboard life was beginning to wear thin. The discomforts, and the continual heat, became oppresssive. Some sought to offset these with more work. They formed themselves into volunteer groups for extra practice with the LMGs and the sergeants found their spare-time and their cabins cluttered with tiresome enthusiasts. So all were relieved when the Orion, Rangitata and three Australian transports put into Aden on 8 February to refuel.

By noon next day all ships were at sea again, and by late afternoon land became visible on either side. The convoy was passing through the Straits of Bab-el-Mandeb. Dhows flitted by, felucca-rigged. Tankers, and grubby tramp steamers, plied there in the narrows between Arabia and Africa. The first stage of the Company's Odyssey was nearly done. Ahead lay Egypt and the testing-grounds of war; and one driver wrote in a letter home: ‘We shall soon see what the ASC is made of. Hope we turn out all right!’

The church service of Sunday, 11 February, was the last one aboard Transport Z4. Colonel Crump then told the troops that their camp would be at Maadi, about a dozen miles south of Cairo. They would arrive, he said, at Port Tewfik (Suez) the following night, disembark on Tuesday morning, and travel by train through Cairo. Next day the Senior MO gave a last talk on the risks of disease in Egypt, and the need for care over the ‘three F's’—flies, fluids, and food.

Shipboard training ceased, and with it the grousing. All were excited, elated. Ahead lay a new land, a new life. The men went blithely about the business of packing their gear and cleaning ship. Collections were made for stewards and waiters, trophies presented to the winners of contests. There was a final flurry of inspections, farewell concerts, speeches. When dawn broke on Tuesday, 13 February, Z4 lay at Tewfik—and the troops took their first long look at Egypt.

What they saw there did not specially please them. The city of Suez was impressive enough with its large buildings and its broad expanse. No one expected it to be so big. But the people … and their habits… whew! On wharves thick with filth, the sons of the Pharaohs scrabbled and fought one another for baksheesh—cigarettes and small-change tossed down by the soldiers. Some, ragged and dirty, brought boats alongside with fruit and other foods; but little business passed. Even the ‘gully-gully’ men, producing live chickens from impossible places and performing other feats of legerdemain, aroused but a passing flicker of interest.

What our men wanted was to get ashore. But their arrival in Egypt at that particular juncture was a matter of world interest, rating high diplomatic cognisance. Already the BBC had pro- laimedprolaimed the safe arrival of the New Zealand contingent at its destination. And there to welcome them at Suez was the GOC, Major-General Freyberg. With him came Mr Anthony Eden, then Secretary of State for Dominion Affairs; the British Ambassador to Egypt, Sir Miles Lampson; General Sir Archibald Wavell, GOC-in-C Middle East; Lieutenant-General H. M. Wilson, GOC-in-C British Troops in Egypt; and Mahmoud Azme Bey, Governor of the Canal Zone, representing the Egyptian Government.

3Because of its stop at Aden the Orion arrived at Port Tewfik after the main part of the convoy, too late to be met by the official party.

Addresses of welcome were delivered, and Sir Miles read a message from His Majesty King George VI:

Buckingham Palace, 12th February, 1940.

General Officer Commanding, 2nd New Zealand Division.

I know well that the splendid tradition established by the armed forces of New Zealand will be worthily upheld by you, who have left your homes to fight for the cause that the whole Empire has made its own.

Now that you have entered the field of active service, I send you a very warm welcome, together with my best wishes for your welfare.

George R.I.

General Freyberg replied to the speeches, and asked Mr Eden to convey a message of thanks to the King for his welcome. At noon the ASC, following the infantry, all loaded like camels, filed down the gangways into barges, each of which held 200 men. As these were filled a tug towed them in pairs to the quayside and the men scrambled ashore.

They went straight from the wharves into trains, brushing off importunate Arabs who swarmed around like flies, trying to sell chocolate, cigarettes, eggs, bread and oranges. By 1.30 p.m. Petrol Company was installed in third-class carriages with crude wooden seats, surrounded by a jumble of packs, rifles, water bottles, kitbags. Even there they found no respite from pestering Arabs, who begged and importuned through the open windows. Bolder ones who boarded the train were unceremoniously bundled off. Yet despite this discouragement and the warnings of officers, a few ingenuous Kiwis contrived to get taken down by the money-changers.

Soon the men were staring through the carriage windows at mile upon mile of dun-coloured hummocks, lacking all vestige of vegetation. So this was the famous desert, stamping ground of Sheiks, of the French Foreign Legion, and all that? Not much romance about this, or about the bleak military camps they saw from time to time. Maadi, they hoped, would turn out rather better!

But even a desert has a beginning and an end. Their train ran on into the irrigated areas of the rich Nile Delta, with its grass, standing crops, and groves of date palms. This was more like it! Gnarled fellaheen toiling near water-races straightened their backs to gaze at the train. The grazing herds and the patient beasts of burden—camels, oxen, asses—scarcely turned a head. They lived and worked as their kind had done for 5000 years in those self-same fields. What was another war to them, one more army, coming or going? Still less did our Soldiers matter to the timeless pyramids, now clearly visible from the carriage windows.

At 5.10 p.m. the First Echelon marched into Maadi Camp with bands playing. General Freyberg took the salute. By six o'clock the men were installed in their unit lines, with Petrol Company occupying four-man tents in the ASC area, along with 4 Reserve Mechanical Transport Company and the Divisional Ammunition Company. Unit cooks had disembarked on the previous day and gone ahead to Maadi; but Petrol Company's cookhouse, when the men marched in, was not yet a going concern.

The building itself was only half-finished. Stoves were not in working order; no rations had been drawn. To quote Bill Ambrose, who had to cope with all this, ‘it was like moving into an empty house—nobody knew what was what’. All the cooking utensils—dixies, boilers, urns—were still brand-new and smothered in protective grease. So for a day or two the Company fed with a ‘Tommy’ unit, our men travelling to and from mess by truck.

Meanwhile there were more important things to think about, as explained in this extract from the Company's first routine order in Egypt:

Compliments

(a) Care will be taken that proper compliments are paid by Guards and individuals to the British Ambassador when travelling through

Lionel Stubbs, Jerry Lyon and L. H. Lawton at Qasabablack and white photograph of soldiers

Jack Plumtree, an English soldier and Ivan McCullum meet the Queen (now Queen Mother) at the Union Jack Club, Londonblack and white photograph of soldiers with the queen

In Greece: a motor transport convoy on the road between Elevtherokhorion and Dholikhiblack and white photograph of army vehicle on the move

New Zealand provost on point duty, Olympus Passblack and white photograph of soldier

Bill Ross, ‘Snowy’ Guy and ‘Hurricane’ Harrison near Elasson, the Company's last organised camp in Greeceblack and white photograph of soldiers relaxing

Marathon Beach, where Petrol Company was evacuatedblack and white photograph of view from the hill

A German troop-carrier from which parachutists were dropped over the prison in Creteblack and white photograph of airplane

At Galatas, 20 May 1941. From left: lance Green, Bill Ross, — Day, M. C. Guy, Erle Stewart, (not identified)black and white photograph of soldiers with guns

The Gaol, looking towards Galatas—from a German publication, Kreta—Sieg Der Kühnstenblack and white photograph of building

coloured map of north of egypt Military Camps. The car in which he travels carries a large Union Jack in front.

(b) His Majesty the King of Great Britain, Northern Ireland, the British Dominions beyond the Seas, Emperor of India, has approved as a matter of courtesy to our Egyptian Allies that British soldiers and airmen, in uniform, should salute Egyptian officers, army and air force, when in uniform.

(c) His Majesty the King of Egypt has approved that Egyptian soldiers and airmen should salute British officers when in uniform.

Dress

(a) Service dress will be worn on all occasions, except on recreational parades.

(b) Hats, and shirts or singlets, will always be worn. [A bit uncomfortable for sleeping, but there was the order!]

Discipline

All ranks, before engaging taxis, MUST be in possession of sufficient money to meet the cost of the fares on arrival at destination.

Men must not remove articles such as ‘handles’ from the Canteen, and must go to the canteen properly dressed.

Currency

A certain amount of spurious coins are in circulation in Egypt, particularly 20-piastre pieces. All ranks are hereby warned not to accept 20-piastre pieces as change from any shop anywhere in Cairo.

But in case it be thought that service life in Egypt was just one long, lotus-eating business of bilking taxi-drivers, swiping handles from canteens, and saluting ‘our Egyptian allies’, here is the daily regime laid down in that same RO:

Routine

Reveille 0530 Roll Call 0545 Breakfast 0630 Ist Parade 0730 Dismiss 1200 Lunch 1230 2nd Parade 1430 Dismiss 1700 Tea 1730 Tattoo 2200 Lights Out 2215

The order further records:

Strength

Marched in from HMNZT Z-4 Off. W.O. Sgts. O/Rs. Total 5 1 5 159 170

Marched in, Advanced Party CQ MS Broomfield, C. H. Sgt Macphail, I. C. Pte Cassin, P. J.

CHAPTER 4 Desert Training

Ensconced in their four-man ridge tents at Maadi, Petrol Company's first echelon quickly settled down to the business of fitting themselves for desert warfare. There were scant amenities—few completed roads or buildings, scarcely a canteen or YMCA. The Company shared a NAAFI in the 27 (MG) Battalion area and found the beer worth buying at 3 piastres (about 7 ½ d.) a bottle. Equipment of all kinds was short; as one observer noted, months passed before they heard of a G1098 (the synopsis of the complete equipment of a unit, itemised and enumerated) and started to get a trickle of its components.

Electricity was laid on to Divisional and Brigade Headquarters, but not to unit lines. So Petrol Company, like the rest, drew hurricane lamps from the QM store and adjusted themselves to a return to the kerosene age. Water-supply was sketchy at first, but improved as more connections were made to showers and ablution stands. Shaving out-of-doors proved irksome in a climate where lather quickly dried on the face and then just blew away; but unfortunately the whiskers remained. Troops were warned against bathing—or even wading—in the River Nile, or in any pool or canal, ‘the waters of which’, stated an RO, ‘all arise from the dangerous waters of the Nile’. Grim tales of bilharzia sufficed to deter most; while the human pollution they saw was more than enough for others.

Because of the heat, the Camp Baths were popular; but with a high incidence of otitis media and sinusitis among troops (including some in Petrol Company) high diving was forbidden; the water in the baths was chlorinated. Drinking water appeared in large earthenware jars, called zeers, which stood on iron tripods in unit lines. Strangely enough, the sun's heat cooled the water in these by evaporating the see page on the outer surface. But zeers soon became suspect as breeding- placesbreedingplaces for mosquitoes, while the communal mug used for drinking from them was officially condemned. On the other hand, melons, which had been banned as thirst-quenchers, were now approved so long as they were purchased from ‘reliable sources’.

At that stage Italy had not entered the war, and her intentions had to be reckoned with. In Libya, just over the Egyptian border, Marshal Balbo commanded a large army, estimated at nine full divisions, with several hundred tanks and more than 1000 guns. The Italians also had transport and numerous planes. There seemed little to stop Balbo from occupying Egypt and seizing the Suez Canal.

In the face of this danger, elaborate plans were worked out for the defence of Maadi Camp and the nearby city of Cairo, especially against air attack and parachute landings. Ack-ack posts were mounted; troops carried respirators and steel helmets; they stood-to at dawn and dusk. They dug and manned slit trenches, practised dispersal of transport. Petrol Company shared in these activities, at the same time pressing on with a training course of parades, infantry training, weapon training and route marches. They engaged, besides, in two other important activities: the ferrying of Divisional transport (including vehicles for the Second and Third Echelons) from delivery points in the Canal Zone, and they attended specialist schools and courses.

On 4 March D Section (Workshops) under Staff-Sergeant Barnett marched out for trade testing at RASC Heavy Repair Workshops, Abbassia. Most of them qualified as fitters, electricians, carpenters, coppersmiths, and so on. The following week a party led by Sergeants Greig and Macphail left for a supply and general duties course at RASC Training Centre, Moascar. Corporal McEwan

Cpl R. D. McEwan; Stoke; born Edinburgh, 13 Aug 1918; insurance clerk.

qualified as a physical training instructor at a course in Helmieh; Corporal May

Capt K. E. May, ED and bar; Wellington; born Wellington, 21 Jun 1909; clerk.

passed a course in sanitary duties; Driver Wallace

Dvr M. B. Wallace; Wanganui; born Hawera, 24 Apr 1918; laundryman; p.w.1 Jun 1941.

took a water-duty course with 2/1 Field Hygiene Section; CSM Graham marched out, first to a unit gas instructors' course at Middle East Training School, Abbassia, then to Middle East Weapon Training School, Palestine. Sergeant Greig became acting CSM.

Petrol Company drivers, headed by an officer or senior NCO, plied between Maadi and the Vehicle Reception Depots at Port Said, Alexandria and Moascar. Their job was the vital one of putting the Division on wheels. In 1940 practically all vehicles in that theatre of war were British makes, mostly 3-ton Bedfords. There was a smaller number of Morrises, mainly ambulances, and a few new Chevrolets. The bulk of the Bedfords had already done a considerable mileage in the Middle East by June 1940, and of these, most had been impressed from civilian sources. When war broke out, about 500 Chevs, all brand-new and still crated, were on hand in the Middle East under a peacetime contract, ready for just such a contingency.

Vehicles from Britain invariably arrived on wheels, ready to be driven away. American vehicles on the other hand arrived cased, and were assembled at Alexandria, Port Said, or Ataqa, near Suez, which had a large Vehicle Assembly Unit. All vehicles were then taken to Vehicle Reception Depots at Tel-el-Kebir, Amiriya, or Abbassia for issuing. Most American makes were distributed from Tel-el-Kebir.

Also being used in Egypt then were some 10-ton Macks and Whites. Most of these arrived at Haifa, in Palestine, where they were assembled and driven down to the Canal. Some thirty or forty of the Macks, however, were landed and assembled at Basra, on the Persian Gulf, where all the British 10-tonners— Fodens, Leylands and Albions—also arrived. From there they were railed to Baghdad, then driven across Iraq, Transjordan and Palestine on a 1600-mile journey to Egypt. Nearly 500 miles of this was across desert tracks, while a large section of the journey followed the oil pipeline which runs from Iraq to Haifa. Under a treaty with Iraq, British troops and transport had right-of-way through that country, but could not be stationed there.

The pipeline, of course, carried crude oil to refineries in Haifa, where it was converted into petrol, kerosene, and other products. These were shipped to bulk storage installations near Egyptian ports. Refineries near Suez treated crude oil from the Red Sea area. Later in the war, oil fuel was also drawn from Abadan, in the Persian Gulf.

Refined petrol went to base areas in bulk, by rail or road tanker, to be decanted into storage tanks at the pumps or petrol supply points. Later, a British War Department pipeline was built for pumping petrol direct from Suez to the Cairo installations. For operational purposes, the Supply and Transport (Petrol) directorate at GHQ MEF had the refined petrol packed in four-gallon expendable ‘flimsies’—known only too well to Petrol Company in the first three years of the war. The cans were made at factories near the bulk installations, and filled at Alexandria, Suez, Haifa and Beirut.

As every Middle East veteran knows, these four-gallon packs were far from satisfactory. They were too frail to stand up to desert conditions, to the continuai loading and unloading, the tossing and dropping which they inevitably received. So, in the first few years, wastage of petrol from leaky containers was estimated at 30 or 40 per cent. Various methods were tried for ‘clothing’ the flimsies, protecting them with cardboard sheaths and light wooden crates, in an effort to stem these losses. But none proved successful; and no real answer to the problem was found until finally pressed steel containers were used.

At first these were the four-gallon Jerricans captured from the enemy in large quantities—about two million altogether—in North Africa, and 44-gallon drums, to the tune of about one million, from the same source. By the end of 1942, however, similar containers were being manufactured in the Middle East, so the tinning of petrol for the forces there ceased. This resulted in a saving of a thousand gallons daily during the Eighth Army's final campaign in North Africa, and reduced the petrol wastage to less than 2 per cent.

Leave trips to Cairo and the Delta gave opportunities to examine more closely the ‘wonders of the East’. Petrol Company investigations were not all purely academic, and enlightenment sometimes came through sore heads, or broken ones. Like their fathers before them they revelled in the fleshpots of Egypt, and shared the same urge to pull Cairo apart. Large Tommy Redcaps usually prevented this, and sometimes they were pulled apart instead—‘they’ being the Redcaps, the Kiwis, or both. The provocative Wog usually managed to escape.

His red fez or tarboosh, symbol of his faith, fascinated our troops, and often they would swipe one while swishing past in taxicab or gharry. Such acts evoked stern words in routine orders, and harsh threats against those who ‘molested or interfered in any manner whatever with natives of any class, colour or creed’.

The orders said nothing about civilians who molested soldiers. So Abdul, Ahmud and Co. Went right on plaguing our lads with offers of wristlet watches, fountain pens, postcards and pornographic pictures or ‘literature’. To thrust off the importuners or land a well-placed punt always brought on such a hullaballoo (shared by the entire civilian population, and sooner or later the provost) that the experiment was seldom repeated. For the more opulent there were lush precincts where (while money lasted) one could sample ‘the magic of the Arabian nights, the sport of Sultans’. This usually consisted of watching the gyrating navels of the dancing-girls.

In camp, Petrol Company, like good soldiers everywhere, acquired small bits of this and that—unconsidered trifles which no one had bothered to bolt down or place under armed guard—to make tent life more tolerable. But that, also, failed to please the authorities. They bluntly decreed that ‘no timber will be removed from buildings or the vicinity thereof’; and a certain Petrol Company staff-sergeant, who had built himself a quite creditable table, was required to dismantle same and return its component parts to their former position. This urge to wage war in comfort was very marked among our troops, but not always understood by soldiers from other countries. One British serviceman described the Kiwi as ‘a long-legged bird that roams the desert chirping “Loot! Loot! Loot!”’ In such matters Petrol Company were no worse than the rest; but the possession of transport did give them an advantage.

Camp life also brought its sprinkling of misdemeanours, its ‘conduct to the prejudice, etc. etc.’ and its ‘neglect, ditto, ditto’, always prefixed with the ominous cabala: WOAS. One Petrol Company driver got in smartly for his first week's CB, garnished with packdrill, and a fortnight's leave stoppage, just two days after arriving in Egypt. Another quickly won sixty days in the Glasshouse, sweating it out in that king of detention barracks, the Citadel. In those grim confines, whose massive walls and- tall towers could be plainly seen from Maadi, heart- lessheartless Tommy NCOs strove to make their guests unhappy. So salutary was the regime, in fact, that one New Zealand colonel considered sending his whole battalion in, by relays, on some charge or other.

One feature of this era was a spate of ceremonial parades, generally held on a Saturday. The first took place on 24 February, when General Wavell inspected the First Echelon. With him were General Freyberg and Brigadier Puttick.

Lt-Gen Sir Edward Puttick, KCB, DSO and bar, m.i.d., MC (Gk), Legion of Merit (US); Wellington; born Timaru, 26 Jun 1890; Regular soldier; NZ Rifle Bde 1914-19 (CO 3 Bn); comd 4 Bde Jan 1940-Aug 1941; 2 NZ Div (Crete) 29 Apr-27 May 1941; CGS and GOC NZ Military Forces, Aug 1941-Dec 1945.

Petrol Company put on a good show, and afterwards the C-in-C gave officers and senior NCOs a talk on the war situation. He intimated that the New Zealanders' immediate role would be the defence of the Suez Canal. A week later 2 NZEF was inspected by Lieutenant-General H. M. Wilson, GOC British Troops in Egypt. A march-past in column of sections, done for the first time by the whole contingent, proved quite impressive. Again the parade was followed by an address, which promised action for the New Zealanders but still suggested that their part would be mainly defensive. On the following Saturday—the third in a row—came yet another formal inspection, this time by Sir Miles Lampson, His Britannic Majesty's Ambassador to Egypt.

On 25 March a 2 NZEF rugby fifteen, captained by the All Black, Jack Griffiths,

Maj J. L. Griffiths, MC, m.i.d.; Paraparaumu; born NZ 9 Apr 1912; bank officer; ADC to GOC 1941-45.

defeated a Combined Services team by 20 to nil. Several Petrol Company nominees had gone into training for this event, and one, Roy Knowles,

Dvr R. Knowles; Lower Hutt; born NZ 24 Mar 1918; cabinetmaker; p.w.1 Jun 1941.

was selected to play on the wing. Sport within the Company also flourished, and by 8 April Petrol Company had formed its own sports committee comprising one NCO and two men from each section. Boxing, football, hockey and swimming all developed; while Maadi townsfolk (always great friends to our Middle East men) offered tennis, golf and yachting. Petrol Company's Corporal Gilmore added to his athletic laurels by competing successfully at open contests in Cairo.

Among camp ‘amusements’ was that celebrated institution, Shafto's Cinema. Its cacophonous sound-tracks, belting full blast through asthmatic amplifiers, caused annoyance over a wide area, while scarcely entertaining the patrons within. So often were the troops not amused, in fact, that wrecking the cinema became a popular pastime, usually following some technical hitch which had led to the abandonment of the programme without recompense to the customers. So, as one jester observed, the troops took Shafto's apart to see what didn't make it go.

The camp NAAFIs, too, had their own special brands of entertainment. Most popular were the legal ones—beer and housie-housie. But crown-and-anchor (‘Two bob on the hook!’) ran them a good second, with Slippery Sam, pontoon, and other illicit games well up in the field. When it became known that some operators were remitting hundreds of pounds back home to New Zealand, authority took a stand. But gambling has always flourished in armies, and men will bet on anything— cards, horses, the daily tally of bed-bugs.

Gallons of weak tea were purchased in the NAAFIs and drunk out of cut-down beer bottles. Biscuits, cigarettes, and chocolate were stocked, while more substantial viands, such as steak and eggs, were advertised. But George Wog behind the NAAFI counter had no intention of providing those if he could avoid it. He first took the line that the soldier could not (or would not) pay; for the dishes cost seven or eight piastres at least—and who in his right mind would pay that much for food after the Army had already fed him?

Moved from this point by much loud abuse, and the flourishing of akkers, George then raised the question of how you would take your viands—in your hand or in your eye; a curly one, that, since the management provided neither plates nor cutlery. Having countered this by producing your own mess gear you then received grudgingly, and in George's own good time, your steak and eggs, Egyptian pattern. But the charred cinder he brought you bore little resemblance to steak as you knew it; nor were the little round products of the Egyptian hen at all like the eggs back home. But they made a change from army food, even though reeking with cotton-seed oil.

In those early days Petrol Company received some notable additions, one being the inimitable Driver Dalton.

Dvr M. L. Dalton; born Dunedin, 6 Sep 1916; hotel porter; deceased.

‘Dilly’ marched in from HQ NZASC wef 2/3/40;

wef, with effect from.

and Div Pet was never quite the same again. Earlier on, Lieutenant A. L. Lomas, NZMC, became attached for rations and was welcomed back to the Company. Equally popular was Lieutenant W. M. (‘Boundary Bill’) Davis, marched in from 4 Field Ambulance on 18 May. His unofficial exploits as an infanteer later caused the Hun some anxiety.

The trials of life as a Petrol Company NCO are recorded in Jim Greig's diary for this period; he had just been promoted acting CSM.

Maadi, Sat. 13/4/40

My birthday today. Spend morning in O/Room and generally getting into the running of things. No wonder Chas [Graham] got fed up occasionally. Everyone seems to want the CSM at the same time…. This afternoon Ian and I went to Cairo to attend Gen Freyberg's party and what a great turn-out it was. About 200 officers and sgts there, and Mrs Freyberg made one feel quite at home. A marvellous afternoon-tea was served inside as a start-off, and did we make a meal of it! Adjourned to garden afterwards for concert by Scots Guards and cold beer was served in large quantities. We were received by Gen Freyberg and Mrs F. on entering, at 4 p.m., and didn't leave till 7 p.m. Even a thunderstorm and heavy rain didn't dampen our ardour and we were all reluctant to leave. Straight back to camp and shouted for the mess. At 11 p.m. camp nearly got blown down and we were two hours fixing the other tents.

Maadi, Sun. 14/4/40

What a filthy night. I never want to see sand again. Trying to fix those damn tents was an ordeal I don't want again in a hurry. This morning it is still blowing hard and the atmosphere is just filled with sand. You could plant potatoes in the air!!!Late work tonight—got to bed at 1 a.m. Being CSM is a fair cow.

Maadi, Monday 15/4/40

Just a hard damn day's work. Unit moving to desert for three days on Wednesday. John Hunter to be OC desert unit on trial. John, Cecil and self have discussions over possibilities of operation in desert. Couple of drinks in mess after 11 p.m. with J. J. and bed finally at 1 a.m.

Maadi, Tues. 16/4/40

Hardest day's work I've had for many a long day. Op. order for desert prepared in conjunction with OC, CQMS, and self; and making out duty details, and who will and who won't go is enough to send me crazy. Up at 5 a.m. and bed at 12.30 p.m. What a day! Not a minute's spell!

Maadi-Mena Desert, Wed. 17/4/40

Half company strength move into desert today for practice training as A section. A. C. D. [Captain Dickson] and self go out in car for the day to see things started and return late afternoon, leaving Coy in desert until Friday. Route took us close to Pyramids which I saw at close range for first time. Came home very tired. After tea went to bed at 9 p.m. Alan McCook returned from Palestine today.

Maadi, Thurs. 18/4/40

A normal day, thank heavens, frightfully hot and not TOO much work. Taking it easy for a change. Coy still in desert and returning tomorrow afternoon.

Maadi, Frid. 19/4/40

Went out to desert in car with A. C. D. for couple of hours to visit Company on manoeuvres. Returned camp about 11 a.m. Sent drivers and vehicles to Suez for R.E.

Royal Engineers.

stores. Company returned to camp from desert at 1400 and then pay, issue of summer clothing, shorts, etc. took up a couple of hours. Urgent message comes at 2.30 p.m. to send 26 drivers to Port Said by 1730 train from Cairo. Manage to scrape up enough and despite three days in desert they scramble round and get ready and away they go to Port Said quite cheerful.

The manoeuvres were a rehearsal by Petrol Company for its part in a three-day exercise which took place a week later in the El Saff area—‘tiger country’ some 30 miles south of Maadi.

From that exercise, the first to be held on a Divisional scale (though the Division was then at brigade strength only) the Company learned many useful lessons, and got its first practical experience at supplying and operating a petrol point. The exercise was planned as one phase in a war between the armed forces of ‘Puttagonia’, commanded by Brigadier Puttick, and those of ‘Milesia’, led by the NZ CRA, Brigadier Miles.

Brig R. Miles, CBE, DSO and bar, MC, ED, m.i.d.; born Springston,10 Dec 1892; Regular soldier; NZ Fd Arty 1914-19; CRA 2 NZ Div 1940-41; comd 2 NZEF (UK) 1940; wounded and p.w. 1 Dec 1941; escaped, Italy, Mar 1943; died Spain, 20 Oct 1943.

‘The proceedings’, wrote General Kippenberger,

Maj-Gen Sir Howard Kippenberger, KBE, CB, DSO and bar, ED, m.i.d., Legion of Merit (US); born Ladbrooks, 28 Jan 1897; barrister and solicitor; 1 NZEF 1916-17; CO 20 Bn Sep 1939-Apr 1941, Jun-Dec 1941; comd 10 Bde, Crete, May 1941; 5 Bde Jan 1942-Jun 1943, Nov 1943-Feb 1944; GOC 2 NZ Div, 30 Apr-14 May 1943, 9 Feb-2 Mar 1944; comd 2 NZEF Prisoner-of-War Reception Group (UK) Oct 1944-Sep 1945; twice wounded; Editor-in-Chief, NZ War Histories, 1946-57; died Wellington, 5 May 1957.

in his Infantry Brigadier, ‘ended with an Anzac Day morning service where the General prayed for an early chance to go for the Hun and clearly pointed out to the Almighty that we had been waiting for a long time.’

One thing Petrol Company found from this experience was that road transport work is vastly different from driving in the desert. There a driver must learn to distinguish hard ground from, soft; to know the tricks that wind plays with loose sand; to negotiate bad patches (by easing his vehicle slantwise across sharp depressions) so as not to damage springs, ‘diff’, or gearbox.

Drivers learned to spot treacherous places from afar, and either to skirt around them—not always possible when travelling in convoy—or else to approach at the optimum speed for that type of country. They found that a heavy foot on the accelerator seldom paid; and that this practice, instead of bulldozing them out of their troubles, usually caused the truck to dig in and settle down firmly on its back axle. Then the perspiring driver (and his cursing offsider) could be sure of having the devil's own job getting it to budge again.

In such cases the shovel and the sand-tray (if any) were a man's best friends; while the stunted desert camel-scrub (again, if any) could be used to give the back wheels something to grip on.

In convoy it was essential to keep a sharp eye on the truck ahead. Vehicles had a habit of vanishing in the desert, since this turned out to be scarcely ever flat, as one expected, but folded; and studded with surprisingly large hummocks round which a truck could disappear in a twinkling, leaving one with a fifty-fifty guess as to whether it had turned to the right or the left. In time our drivers acquired a ‘desert sense’ or, better still, a prismatic compass, which eliminated guesswork and reduced almost to nil the chances of getting lost. But at first there was ‘strife’ and the occasional damaged vehicle.

One Company driver, with a stove-in radiator, explained to his sergeant that another truck had suddenly loomed up in the darkness ahead of him.

‘Loo-oo-oomed!’ roared the incensed NCO. ‘So something loomed, did it? When things start looming, my boy, it's time you were on the ground. Report for duty with the sanitary squad. Loo-oomed, indeed!’

On Thursday, 2 May, the Company commenced its summer training programme, with reveille at 5.30 a.m., an early morning parade before breakfast, and a siesta after lunch. The siesta was compulsory, and duly laid down in routine orders; but with in-the-shade temperatures ranging to 110 degrees and over, and all metalwork exposed to the sun becoming too hot to touch, little compulsion was needed. On bed-boards in their stuffy tents, the men lay near-naked, with perspiration streaming from them. The tea they drank poured straight out again through their skins. Maadi became unbearable. Twenty per cent leave was granted daily from 4.30 p.m. to 1.30 a.m. A change-of-air camp opened at Sidi Bishr, near Alexandria.

On 7 May seventeen Petrol Company trucks, with drivers and ‘spares’, left Maadi for a PAD

Passive air defence.

exercise embracing Upper Egypt. They were attached to the Infantry Base Depot at the Citadel; the 2/10 General Hospital; RAOC, Abbassia; the RASC Supply Depot, Abbassia; and the OC Egyptian Command Signals, Abbassia. These detachments returned to camp on 12 May. Five days later the Company was placed on four hours' notice to move. On 29 May the first leave party returned from Sidi Bishr, and the second Petrol Company party moved out.

By the end of May the Company was still at Maadi, practising dispersal under the PAD scheme, manning LMG posts (with 500 rounds of live ammunition to each) and doing repair work on vehicles. By this time Petrol Company's vehicle establishment was complete, except for breakdown and workshops wagons and water trailers. Soon, however, D Section was equipped with a Thornycroft workshop truck and a Thornycroft stores wagon; and the section worked flat out, Bill Ross remembers, doing urgent repair work for the Division, even during siesta periods.

About this time a number of Petrol Company tents caught fire, ‘the cause in every case’, routine orders averred, ‘being attributable to a carelessly discarded match or cigarette butt’. By the same orders soldiers were forbidden to be tattooed in any native tattooing establishment; while the authorities noted that ‘empty beer bottles and other missiles’ were frequently being thrown from trains in which personnel of British Troops Egypt were travelling, ‘with a possible danger of serious bodily harm being caused to any persons in the vicinity.’ The practice (needless to say) was to cease forthwith… but (equally needless to mention) it didn't.

CHAPTER 5 ‘Oh To Be In England!’

The Second Echelon, which had gone into training on 12 January 1940, a week after the embarkation of the First, sailed from New Zealand on 2 May 1940. Their convoy, comprising the Aquitania, Empress of Britain, Andes and Empress of Japan, with battleship escort, was joined a few days later by the Mauretania, Queen Mary and Empress of Canada, carrying Australian troops.

Petrol Company shared the Aquitania (42,000 tons) with 28 (Maori) Battalion, 5 Field Ambulance, Divisional Supply reinforcements, and other units. All hands, including the crew, numbered 3600. Our men and the Maoris were allotted cramped quarters on the fourth deck down—an iron one, two decks below the water-line. Under them was the working alley- wayalleyway where stores, engineers' equipment, and such-like were kept. There were no portholes. Wind-shutes from the upper decks provided ventilation.

The ships were heading north towards Ceylon when suddenly, on 15 May, the convoy changed course and made for Capetown. With much of Europe overrun, France demoralised, and the German forces seemingly invincible, it appeared likely that Mussolini would want to come in on the ‘winning’ side; and Italy at that time commanded the southern approach to Suez. So the convoy was diverted to England, via Capetown.

Off the shores of Britain the convoy was met by six destroyers, the aircraft-carrier Argus, and the battle-cruiser Hood. Then, as they moved towards a landfall in the Firth of Clyde the men caught a glimpse of the havoc of war. Driver Mackinder

Dvr W. A. Mackinder; born NZ 14 Feb 1900; motor mechanic; killed in action 21 May 1941.

wrote in a letter home:

The first traces of the war passed at 10.30 this morning [15 June]: two empty lifeboats, one upside down; dozens of empty oildrums, and timber all over the place. And now, at 12.15 p.m., we are just passing a burning ship on the horizon but can see the flames quite clearly, and huge clouds of smoke….

It is just getting dark—fancy, 9.45 p.m. and still light! This has been a day of thrills. At 2 p.m. a submarine had a try at our leading escort, but missed. You should have seen the destroyers go! They dropped a depth-charge but I'm not sure of the result. Another scare at 4.30, and our officer has just told us they had another try, but missed. At 5 p.m. there were 13 battleships with us, mostly destroyers, and at 7.30 there were 27 ships in sight.

The troops disembarked at Glasgow, went by train to Edinburgh, where they halted for a meal, then crossed the border into England. At Aldershot they detrained and marched through the town, headed by a band. Petrol Company then humped their packs four miles up Longbottom Valley to a camp that had been prepared for them at Bourley. Some may have recalled that, 2000 years before, Caesar's troops from overseas had humped even heavier packs to a camp on the self-same spot.

A system of ‘parent units’ had been organised by the British Command to help the New Zealanders to settle in, and they soon shook down to camp routine again. But life in England then was no bed of roses. Dunkirk was just over. The gallant BEF, though saved by miracles of courage and strategy, had been hurled out of Europe. It had left behind its entire equipment. And now the invasion of England was expected from day to day.

So, half-trained and only sketchily equipped, the Second Echelon prepared for its allotted role—that of GHQ Reserve. Its task was ‘to counter-attack and destroy any enemy forces invading the counties of Surrey-Kent-Sussex-Hampshire which are not destroyed by the troops of Eastern and Southern Commands’. This committed our men to a last-ditch stand… or, rather, the last ditch but one; for behind them was a Home Guard, armed with pikes, truncheons and incendiary bottles!

Tough though life was for servicemen in England, the civil population found it even worse. Driver Mackinder writes:

June 28

They [relatives in England] have been raided several times, and one bomb dropped in the paddock behind them. They have been spending most of their nights in the little dugout in the back- yardbackyard. There is one to every home, the size of a decent dog-kennel, about 6' × 4' and 3' high. You open the door and back down the steps (about six) and find yourself in a little place with concrete floor, and sides about 3' high, also of concrete. The roof is of corrugated iron, nicely arched and reinforced, and with seats all round. There you sit in the dark, or with a candle in the back corner, until the ‘All Clear’ is sounded.

They were up until 3 a.m. the night before I arrived, 2 a.m. that night, and the next I persuaded them to go to bed. I went upstairs at 11 p.m. and was asleep in a few minutes. They came up just after and went to bed; and Arthur said he was just off to sleep when Millie wakened him and said: ‘He's here again!’ So up they got, dressed the three children, and away down to the dugout until the ‘All Clear’ went at 2.30. Then they came up to bed, but left the children down below. It is awful to see them…. the women are all played out, and the children getting disturbed almost every night.

And that was still only 1940. On 26 June Petrol Company were given forty-eight hours' disembarkation leave; meanwhile they dug slit trenches, received an issue of steel helmets. Their camp at Bourley was a combined NZASC one, with Colonel Crump in command, and Lieutenant Coutts

Maj P. E. Coutts, MBE, ED, m.i.d., born Auckland, 4 Dec 1903; salesman; OC I Amn Coy Oct 1941-Jan 1943, Feb-Oct 1945; 18 Tk Tptr Coy Jan 1943-Mar 1944; Div Pet Coy Oct-Dec 1945; killed in accident 20 Feb 1960.

as Adjutant. Petrol Company's OC was Captain George Hook.

Capt G. A. E. Hook; Hastings; born Marton, 10 Jan 1905; motor mechanic; p.w. 17 Jun 1941.

His officers were Second-Lieutenants Trewby

Maj F. Trewby, OBE, m.i.d.; London; born NZ 2 Jul 1907; traveller; wounded Apr 1941.

and Collins.

Capt E. A. Collins; Kerikeri; born Te Awamutu, 18 Jun 1913; motor salesman.

Senior NCOs included CSM Ces James,

WO II C. E. James, EM and bar; Wellington; born Ashburton, 2 Jun 1903; linesman; wounded 26 May 1941; p.w. 1 Jun 1941.

MSM Colin Chetwin,

Maj C. E. Chetwin, m.i.d.; Trentham; born Napier, 14 Jul 1912; Regular soldier; p.w. 31 May 1941; OC MT Wkshps, RNZEME, Trentham, 1958-59.

Staff-Sergeant Claude Keating,

S-Sgt C. R. Keating, EM; Wellington; born NZ 14 Jun 1907; canister maker.

and Sergeants Almao,

Sgt V. H. M. Almao; Auckland; born Auckland, 31 Aug 1905; bus driver.

Keddell,

Sgt P. J. Keddell; Wellington; born NZ 13 Nov 1904; customs agent; wounded 25 May 1941; p.w. 1 Jun 1941.

Crawley

Sgt L. A. Crawley; Tikokino; born NZ 18 Apr 1908; lorry driver, wounded Apr 1941.

and Taaffe.

Lt C. T. Taaffe; Havelock North; born NZ 10 Jul 1917; fat-stock buyer; wounded 20 May 1941.

These and about 100 other ranks (some of them ‘earmarked’ as RMT replacements in the Middle East) comprised Petrol Company's second echelon. It had an LAD and its own Workshops sub-section. On 21 June an allotment of trucks and motor-cycles was picked up from Slough and company training commenced. Then followed the inevitable ‘shagging about’, including a move (on 29 June) to a new camp a short distance from the main one.

July 21

…. We have had a shift and are now on our jobs, some of the boys being out practically all the time…. We left our tents behind and are now living like Gypsies in our caravans; four of us live in the Workshops truck, two on the benches and two on the floor, and could manage quite well if there was any place to put our gear, besides on top of batteries and under the lathe!

August 7

…. We have been in a different camp each of the last four nights and have another two or three to do. We travel most of the day and camp in the afternoon and evening; tea at about 9 p.m. and up at 5 a.m. Breakfast at six, and away we go; talk about Gypsies! We doss on the ground under trees or in the bush, of which there is miles, mostly parks; or sometimes on the roadsides, which are mostly lined with trees. We sneak the lorries underneath and we are home.

The weather has been perfect for the last 10 days and we are seeing new country and towns and villages all the time. You cannot go three miles without a village, some of them quite small with narrow streets and no footpaths, just room for our lorries to get through in some places. They usually have a store or two, and sometimes a public-house—but you are liable to find those anywhere, village or not…. I believe we are going back to our permanent camp tomorrow, after a week of manoeuvres.

This ‘week of manoeuvres’ was a Divisional exercise, commencing on 3 August, with the Army Services functioning in normal manner. The first petrol point, at Arundel Park, was

‘The Galatas Heights’ from the Alikianou-Canea road, looking north—east. The feature on the left is Pink Hill, on the right Cemetery Hill. Galatas lies behind the centre feature

black and white photograph of hill

Civilian prisoners were used by the Germans to bring up supplies— Kreta—Sieg Der Kühnstenblack and white photograph of soldiers and civilians

Divisional Petrol Company at Helwan after evacuating Creteblack and white photograph of soldiers

Crown and Anchor cloth, embroidered by Fred Follas and autographed at Stalag VIIIB by all the Petrol Company prisoners of war taken in Creteblack and white photograph of embroidered cloth

Company are at Helwanblack and white photograph of tent

The 5th Reinforcemens, from which the Company was largely rebuilt, arrive at Port Tewfikblack and white photograph of soldiers at sea front

Workshop Section—blacksmiths' shop, Helwan, 1941black and white photograph of soldier working

Coming through the ‘Corridor’, 1 December 1941black and white photograph of army vehicles late in opening due to faulty march discipline on the part of all units, and delays caused by vehicles taking wrong routes after being held up in populated areas. Happily, Hitler did not choose to invade that day! Subsequent movements showed a considerable improvement in convoy work. Next week seven days' privilege leave was granted—to those with sufficient credit in their paybooks.

Earlier, the NZASC had been reviewed (on 6 July) by HM King George VI, who let it be known that he was ‘impressed by their fine physique, keenness and determined manner’. A number of practice, convoys had also been essayed, following a lecture on 2 July by General Freyberg, who stressed the need for moves by MT to threatened areas at short notice. On 19 July three drivers returned to the Petrol Company after missing the boat at Fremantle. They told their story to an unsympathetic court martial. On 28 July, while on convoy to Buckhurst Park, Corporal Bailey,

Maj K. A. Bailey, MM; Lower Hutt; born Wellington, 12 Aug 1912; car painter; joined Regular Force 1948; DADOS (2), Army HQ, 1953-.

on a motor-cycle, collided with another cyclist from the Divisional Supply Column and was evacuated to hospital.

By the end of August the NZASC were so practised at getting off the mark that a movement order received at 8.10 p.m. on the 27th saw them moving off in convoy by eleven o'clock. On this trip (to St Leonard's Forest) there were several air raids, but the convoy suffered no damage. Much of the route had to be travelled without lights, and in the darkness Sergeants Crawley and Keddell, on motor-cycles, collided. Sergeant Crawley injured an ankle and was evacuated to hospital.

On 31 August the Company's tents were returned to Field Stores at Crookham and exchanged for camouflaged ones. With bombing expected on a large scale in the Aldershot command area, units were directed to study the possibility of obtaining greater dispersion. The Battle of Britain was now working up to its climax, and our men had ringside seats. One wrote in a letter home: ‘One of our boys came back from London this morning and he saw some good dogfights there. Yesterday, he said, he saw four brought down out of a packed formation with two shells…. they were falling out of the sky like leaves off a tree.’

Another noted: ‘I went into town yesterday and was in a certain place about five past six and had just had something to drink when the alarm went and we were locked in for about an hour. All the places close and everything stops; just fancy being locked in there!…. It has been very lively here—the largest air-raids ever known. Well, we have seen and heard the lot, the planes going over and dropping their bombs, and our AA guns in action—the noise is like a huge thunderstorm….’

On 23 September the Company received an order that twelve men were to be sent as reinforcements for the NZASC in Egypt. Those chosen were Drivers G. E. Frost, C. Bernie, V. H. Berry, J. J. Cunningham, I. W. Standen, A. D. Standen, R. O. Stewart, E. Reilly, G. N. Johnson, S. L. Faulkner, I. C. Rudduck and V. R. Sergent. With them, as OC NZASC reinforcements, went Second-Lieutenant E. A. Collins.

This advance party—much envied for its chances of coming to grips with the enemy, especially now that the prospects of invasion were receding—joined a group comprising 175 Second Echelon men from all units. The whole echelon, in fact, had been slated for transfer to the Middle East in or before September; but Prime Minister Churchill interceded, maintaining that the New Zealanders were indispensable to the defence of the United Kingdom. Details of enemy activity and preparations across the Channel, and the savage bombing attacks on London confirmed that impression; and following an inspection by Mr Churchill at Mytchett on 4 September, the New Zealand contingent was moved to Maidstone, closer to the threatened south-east coast, to help protect the vital area north and north-west of Dover and Folkestone.

Our men were billeted in stables, barns and appleyards. On 7 October one Petrol Company driver wrote to his wife: ‘We have been having a great time until this week-end, living in a wood on the lorries, and it rained quite a bit and mud everywhere, and the big trees dripped for hours after it had stopped raining.

‘We got all packed up on Saturday morning ready to move into billets and finally got away about 3 p.m. We moved about seven miles into an old mansion of three storeys, with electric light, run by their own plant, in every room, central heating, large garage and a pit for repairs, but sadly in need of a few repairs in the water and sewerage systems. I have been a plumber all day, cleaning the cistern and trying to get the water working upstairs. Our room 10' × 10' is situated alongside the bathroom and sundries, and is all right as long as the water runs.

‘The whole Company is in the house, and there are six in our room and all our gear. You have seen sardines in a tin; well, you should see six little innocents side by side trying to sleep. But we survived it. We have seen plenty of action lately, mostly in the air, and have seen him passing over in dozens on his way to the Big Town. He dropped five fairly close to us last week but did no damage. There were seven air alarms in one day last week and the first “All clear” usually goes about 4.30 a.m. From then until 8 a.m. it is usually quiet. There is one buzzing around now, but I think he is going further in.’

Meanwhile the Middle East advance party had run into trouble. Their ship, the Oronsay, of 16,000 tons, carried 3000 troops and was badly overcrowded. Off the north coast of Ireland a lone Jerry raider swooped down and dropped three bombs, all near misses. They put the port engine out of action and temporarily disabled the starboard engine. Several men from Petrol Company who had contrived to get themselves confined in the ship's lock-up, well down below decks, kicked a hole in the door and crawled out.

After four hours the crew got one engine working again, and the Oronsay limped back to Greenock. The raider machine-gunned the crowded decks, causing a number of casualties. A lookout fell from the crow's nest riddled with bullets. At a conference afterwards, Lieutenant Collins recalls, it was reported that the ship's Bren-gunners were all seasick; whereupon the British OC Troops had replied: ‘You must tell your men not to be seasick. I'm not seasick’. Thereafter, the story goes, New Zealanders manned the machine guns. Seven days' survivors' leave followed this adventure, the Petrol Company quota rejoining their unit on 19 November.

By this time the Company had moved back, along with other NZEF (UK) troops, to the Aldershot area and were established in billets at Rowledge Farnham. There they set up a petrol point and ran daily convoys from the dump to the point. They carted salvage—empty tins and cartons—and road metal for the vehicle park, which was cutting up badly in the prevalent wet weather. On 6 November Second-Lieutenant D. C. Ward

Capt D. C. Ward; born NZ 24 Apr 1905; motor driver; wounded May 1941.

(‘Dangerous Dan’) joined the Company, and exactly one month later the Company paraded for his wedding to an English lass.

Meanwhile General Freyberg made no bones about his discontent at the splitting-up of the New Zealand Division. In units and detachments under various commands, the First Echelon was scattered over the Western Desert from Cairo to the Libyan border, from Alexandria to Khartoum. The Third Echelon (with only nineteen men for the Divisional Petrol Company) had arrived in Maadi on 29 September. It was time now for the New Zealanders to be concentrated, and prepared for their role as a fighting division.

Three months later the Second Echelon was still in Britain. But the crisis was over. The Luftwaffe had taken a thrashing and Hitler's hopes of invading England were gone for ever. On 18 December one driver wrote home:

Just a few lines to let you know we are still here and I have just had a few days' leave…. Have been working hard since we got back, a trainload of benzine one day, 70 trucks of coal the next, and one day a valve-grind. We did not do much this morning; leave this afternoon and went into town to the pictures, ‘The Frightened Lady’. Tea in town and home at 8.30. It is no fun in town in the blackout; you can't see anything or anyone on the street; so came back here….

But things were starting to move, and in the right direction. On 9 December Petrol Company had a detailed kit inspection (followed by a long list of fines for deficiencies) and a refit of all personnel. Christmas leave, in two parties each of 50 per cent company strength, was granted from 13 to 16 December and from the 17th to the 20th. On 30 December the Company was inspected by Brigadier Hargest,

Brig J. Hargest, CBE, DSO and bar, MC, m.i.d., MC (Gk); born Gore,4 Sep 1891; farmer; Member of Parliament, 1931-44; Otago Mtd Rifles, 1914-20 (CO 2 Bn, Otago Regt); comd 5 Bde May 1940-Nov 1941; p.w. 27 Nov 1941; escaped, Italy, Mar 1943; killed in action, France, 12 Aug 1944.

Commanding Officer 2 NZEF (UK), and next day a baggage party comprising Second-Lieutenant Trewby and 12 other ranks left for Newport. By midnight on 2 January Petrol Company (UK), with a unit strength of 4 officers and 126 other ranks, had cleared their billets and entrained at Farnborough.

January 3, 1941.

…. We are all packed up and just waiting for a move. Our stay in England is almost over, dear; a train journey last night, and we can see the seagulls now. We came on board at 11 a.m. and appear to be quite comfortable.

Their ship, the Duchess of Bedford (the ‘Drunken Duchess’), officially HM Transport J24, left Newport at noon on 5 January and anchored off Barry. From there she sailed at 5 a.m. on 7 January with three other transports and a destroyer escort, favoured by mild weather and a calm sea. Near Belfast, after a halt of four days, they were joined by more large troop-carriers (the total now being 21) with an escort of one battleship, three cruisers, and twelve destroyers—a truly mighty convoy.

Conditions in HMT J24, though by no means luxurious, were better than those the Second Echelon shared while going to England in the Aquitania. The Duchess was smaller, and even more congested; but the Company's quarters were not so deep down. Its men occupied a space that had once been the children's nursery, under the dummy funnel. One driver recalls that the beer was ‘crook’; and a sample bottle, taken to a ship's MO, gained the verdict: ‘The horse this came from is dead. Throw it overboard’. Shortly afterwards (the driver relates) all beer aboard the Duchess was ditched.

February 22 (At sea).

…. We have been having a wonderful trip … just sailing along on a calm sea all the time, with never one rough day, just like toy ships on a big pond.

We have had two stops, once for water and fuel, and once for stores, and had a few hours ashore at the second stop. I don't suppose we shall be ashore again until our journey ends.

It was not so bad crossing the Equator from the other side, but we are nearing it again now, and it is going to be a bit different this time. It is warming up nicely now, and we are not doing very much during the day—boat drill, a few lectures, and under the old showers about fill the bill. The worst part is going down to our messrooms for meals, the perspiration just drips off you. Our messroom is over the engine-room, we are told, and things are not so good; but the food is fairly good, and at present we are getting two bottles of mineral water with our meals—dinner and tea.

The stops made were at Freetown (25-29 January) and Capetown (8-12 February). As the convoy entered the former port an air alert sounded, and an unidentified bomber was fired at by warships and shore AA batteries. The aircraft made off smartly to the north without releasing any missiles. At Capetown general leave was granted on 8 February from two in the afternoon until midnight. For the next three days there were route marches in the morning and leave in the afternoon from 1 p.m. to midnight. The conduct of personnel, notes the Company's war diary, was good. At 6.20 p.m. on 3 March the ships made Port Tewfik; and so, for the first time, the three echelons of the Second New Zealand Expeditionary Force found themselves in one and the same operational area. Also in that area was part of the 4th Reinforcements, which had arrived at Suez in two sections—the first on 16 December, the other on 28 January.

March 9.

…. On land again. Travelled all night by train the first night and were only in that camp [Maadi] for 1 ½ days. Spent the next night on trucks and landed here [Amiriya] at 4 a.m. Were told: ‘There's your bed, just where you stand!’ So down we went for a couple of hours. Then joined up with the others and drew more clothes and gear and are now like walking clothes shops when we stagger off carrying all our kit. Certain we have 150 lb at present, though told there is some to be handed back. Meantime we carry it.

Petrol Company's United Kingdom draft joined the others at Amiriya on 8 March 1941. A week later they were still there, groping their way through a three-day sandstorm which put army cookhouses temporarily out of action. For the whole of that week the men had had their gear packed, ready to move. Each night they unpacked greatcoats and blankets (one per man) and bedded down in the sand again.

Then, at last, on 17 March, the Company embarked for its next great adventure—the campaign in Greece.

CHAPTER 6 The Wavell Show

June1940 brought Italy into the war. That placed in jeopardy the meagre British forces then in North Africa. In his Infantry Brigadier General Kippenberger records: ‘We were doing a night exercise when the singular code message for that event, “Prepare for burial”, was brought in, and we went very happily back to camp. This was a stage nearer the real thing that we were becoming unreasonably impatient for. Each morning now we stood-to an hour before dawn, waiting hopefully for Italian parachutists.’

One Petrol Company driver wrote in a letter home: ‘Jim and I were enjoying a very good concert in the Recreation Tent when it was stopped and we were told about it. We gave three cheers and sang “God Save the King” and went back to camp. Thus a good concert was spoilt. Since then we have been working long hours.’ Another group, playing poker in the NAAFI when the news broke, nonchalantly muttered ‘So what?’ and went on playing.

In advance of the event, HQ 2 NZEF had issued the following instructions to the four NZASC companies:

(1)

On receipt of the code word Flit, the full PAD scheme Maadi Camp, will be put into effect at once.

(2)

All posts (incl AA LMG posts) will be permanently manned and air sentries posted.

(3)

Eye shields and anti-gas ointment will be issued and the dispersion of tents and vehicles put in hand. Trench slits will then be dug.

(4)

All troops not already at shorter notice will be at 4 hrs notice to move.

(5)

As each successive step mentioned above is completed, it will be reported to this HQ.

On IO June, at 8.50 p.m., Petrol Company duly received the code word flit from Base Headquarters and acted on it. At 10.30 p.m. the same day the Company received the following signal from HQ NZASC: ‘holster means all officers will carry revolvers and 12 rounds amn at all times. This applies also to WO's in possession of revolvers’. Next day, at 8.30 a.m., the Company got from Divisional Headquarters the signal: ‘flit and holster’. It immediately moved out to its dispersal area between the Marconi wireless station and the railway, alongside the 11th Hussars.

That day a detachment of twenty-six Petrol Company trucks, which had been sent on 7 June to 14 British Infantry Brigade at Helwan to form part of I Composite Section, NZASC, returned to the Company. This detachment comprised Lieutenant Hunter (OC), Sergeant Hopley,

Sgt H. R. Hopley; born Morrinsville, 17 Apr 1910; public servant; killed in action 21 May 1941.

Corporal Smith,

Cpl P. E. Smith; Wellington; born NZ 30 Jan 1909; taxi driver; p.w. 1 Jun 1941.

twenty-seven Petrol Company drivers and a cook, plus four other ranks from Supply Company. They had taken all equipment, including bedding, cooking and messing gear.

Thus re-concentrated Petrol Company spent 13 June digging first-aid posts and slit trenches. By 15 June the Company's war diary was again able to register ‘Normal Routine’. The brief ‘flap’ was over. With it ended a period of tension in the Mediterranean; the general feeling was one of relief.

Precautionary measures continued. At Maadi the cinema, a concert company (the ‘Blue Pencil’ Revue) and the NAAFIs were closed down; a blackout was ordered throughout the camp; anti-aircraft posts were manned. On 18 June two infantry battalions moved out to the Western Desert to prepare defended position at Garawla, 12 miles south-east of Mersa Matruh. Their main task was the digging of a huge anti-tank ditch along the entire Wadi Naghamish (about 6000 yards) from its head to the sea. The sides of the wadi were scarped to a steep five-foot face, while in some places ditches 12 ft broad and 5 ft deep had to be dug.

On the day these troops marched out, a Petrol Company NCO, fretting at his unit's inactivity, wrote: ‘We are all hoping for a move before long—RMT, Div Sup Col, 18 and 19 Bns have all moved out, in full in most cases, and we hear that Div Amn have gone too. But we are still stuck in Maadi.’ They were not to be stuck for long. On 24 June, forty-two Petrol Company lorries were detached to 4 Brigade (assigned to the defence of Lines of Communication) and from then on convoy work for our drivers became practically continuous. At last the Company was taking a hand in the war; and the term ‘On Active Service’, stamped at the top of their letters home, assumed a real meaning.

The war in North Africa opened lightly but briskly. Within twenty-four hours mobile British troops crossed the border into Libya, taking Italian outposts completely by surprise. They did not even know that war had been declared. On 14 June the 7th and 11th Hussars, with one company of the 60th Rifles, seized the frontier forts of Capuzzo and Maddalena, taking 220 prisoners. ‘Tn this small but lively warfare’, wrote Winston Churchill in Volume II of The Second World War, ‘our troops felt they had the advantage, and soon conceived themselves to be masters of the desert.’

The most forward British defended positions then were at Mersa Matruh, with its railhead, its port, and its good road link to Alexandria. These received some attention from Italian bombers, but the effects were not impressive. The planes, with their motors cut off, would glide in out of the sun, release their bombs at 10,000 feet, then start up their engines and hare back over the border. Any loss of morale resulting from these tactics was certainly not on our side; and one New Zealand unit (Divisional Cavalry) notes in its war diary: ‘The men were anxious to fire at anything, including our own planes, if necessary’. Nevertheless, the Division's first casualty from enemy action occurred in one such raid on 12 July, when an NCO of 4 RMT Company was wounded.

At Matruh the C-in-C Middle East (General Sir Archibald Wavell) decided to await the attack of the main Italian hordes, which numbered about 80,000 concentrated near the Egyptian border, with a further 200,000 in bases and coastal depots between there and Tripoli. Against these, Wavell could muster the British 7 Armoured Division, two-thirds of 4 Indian Division, one-third of the New Zealand Division, plus fourteen British battalions ungrouped in higher formations and two regiments of field artillery—altogether about 50,000 men.

Churchill, op. cit., p. 370.

The British built a large prisoner-of-war pen at Matruh and waited.

But the expected onslaught did not come. The fearsome Italian dragon, despite its inflation by Axis propaganda, proved most reluctant. Its heads were pained and surprised to learn that they were expected to take the offensive. No such idea had ever occurred to them. ‘Alla possibilitàG di una offensiva’, writes one Italian historian, ‘il Balbo non credeva’. Marshal Balbo, then C-in-C, just did not believe in the feasibility of an offensive.

General Pietro Maravigna, Come Abbiamo Perduto La Guerra In Africa, p. 199.

Mussolini, however, insisted. It would, he said, be a push- overpushover. On 25 June the Germans were going to invade England; so no more troops, tanks, guns, or munitions, and above all no more aeroplanes, could ever again reach the British in North Africa. On the other hand, a flood of reinforcements would flow in to the Italians through their ports at Tripoli, Benghazi, Tobruk. Thus cajoled, Balbo wrote in a letter to Rome on 28 June: ‘At the right moment I shall fill in all the wells at Bardia [then his nearest stronghold to Egypt]–the last and only wells. I shall place myself at the head of my armies and march on Alexandria. Only there will our soldiers, if they wish to drink, find water!’

Even Italian historians rate this as melodramatic nonsense (‘Garibaldinismo della peggiore specie’);

Op. cit., p. 200.

and no doubt Balbo's troops–for whom he showed so much consideration– were relieved to hear that his plane was shot down and the Marshal killed (by Italian naval gunners) on the very day he wrote the letter. His successor, Graziani, was much more to their liking. He stalled successfully for several months, paying lip-service to the theory of an offensive, but demanding first a build-up in tanks, troops, and armoured cars. By September he was still jibbing, and assuring his masters in Rome and Berlin that ‘We move towards a defeat which, in the desert, must inevitably develop into a rapid and total disaster’. This was noted in the diary of Count Ciano, Mussolini's son-in-law, who also observes: ‘Never has a military operation been undertaken so much against the will of the commanders’.

But Mussolini would have no more of this. He ordered Graziani to attack or be fired, muttering darkly that one should only give jobs to people who are looking for at least one promotion. Graziani's only anxiety was to remain a Marshal!

Such was the general picture. Into it fitted that part of the New Zealand Division—the First Echelon—then in the Middle East. The Second Echelon reached Britain six days after Italy's declaration of war; the Third was already mobilised and under training in New Zealand. Its fate hung in the balance. British policy, General Freyberg cabled from England, where he had gone to be with the Second Echelon, was favourable to concentrating the New Zealand Division in the Middle East as soon as possible. But it would be no service, the GOC advised, to send the Third Echelon out of the Pacific area unless it were immediately provided with arms and equipment sufficient to allow the troops to complete their training and take the field.

To send more troops to England without such provision, he pointed out, meant adding more mouths to a beleaguered and already hard-pressed country without adding to its military strength. It was even worse to do that in the Middle East, where, with France capitulated and disarmed, Italy was free to threaten Egypt. Better, he held, to send the Thirds to Fiji, where their presence, even if only temporary, would have some effect in the Pacific.

In the upshot, of course, the Third Echelon made Egypt on 29 September 1940, and was joined there five months later by the Seconds; thus General Freyberg's aim of a complete New Zealand Division, ready to fight as such, was finally realised. But both before and after that, the GOC had to battle hard to preserve the integrity of his force, and to prevent its dispersal ‘in penny packets’ at the behest of some higher command.

Meanwhile the First Echelon, and especially the ASC, found plenty of work. While 4 Brigade went on with its defence preparations at Garawla, Supply and Petrol Companies, their vehicles smeared with oil and sand for camouflage, shuttled the battalions to and from the Western Desert, in temperatures ranging to 115 degrees in the shade and sometimes remaining over the 100 mark until after 8 p.m. Drivers became affected with heat exhaustion and cramp due to loss of salt from their bodies—a condition which the authorities sought to remedy by publishing in routine orders a recipe for a drink containing half-an-ounce of table salt to a gallon of water flavoured with lemon or lime juice.

The trouble later on was to find the gallon of water; meanwhile Petrol Company's OC produced his own special answer to the thirst question. From 20 to 28 July the Company was engaged on secret night operations (detailed further on) in the desert near E1 Alamein. Petrol Company then moved to El Daba, where it camped between the railway station (‘two huts and a roll of wire’) and the sea. With exemplary concern for the welfare of his troops, Major Dickson decided to replenish their body moisture with beer—asserting that in World War I he himself had proved ale to be an antidote for Gippo tummy.

Stoically, the men resolved to take this treatment; so Captain McDonagh was despatched with careful instructions and a 3-ton truck to the Stella breweries at Alex. Supplies reached Petrol Company lines the same day and were placed in charge of the Company's canteen. All hands were entitled to purchase one bottle daily either just before or just after the evening meal.

Previously, orders had been issued by 4 Brigade Headquarters that no vehicles were to travel eastward past the road-barrier at El Daba without permission from Brigade Headquarters—a formality which Major Dickson (preoccupied as he was with the health of his men) had somehow overlooked. But Brigade HQ did not overlook it; and the OC was invited, in Brigadier Puttick's most characteristic manner, to explain just what he meant by this unauthorised act.

Major Dickson pointed to Petrol Company's low incidence of illness—the lowest, he claimed, in the Western Desert—and he repeated his contention that beer would maintain this creditable record. So attractive were these arguments that his transgression was forgiven; and thereafter most units in the Western Desert, including those of 4 Brigade, sent their beer-wagons regularly to Alex.

From 20 to 28 July Petrol Company joined a composite group comprising the operating sections, a breakdown lorry from Workshops, a detachment of Divisional Supply, and a platoon of infantry. Under command of Major Maxwell,

Brig D. T. Maxwell, OBE, m.i.d.; Wellington, born NZ 13 Jun 1898; Regular soldier; AA & QMG 2 NZ Div Oct 1941-Jun 1942; Commander, British Commonwealth Sub-Area, Tokyo, 1946–47; Commander, Central Military District, 1952–53.

of HQ 2 NZEF, this ‘Maxforce’, as it was called, had Major Dickson as column commander. Its task was to establish secret underground dumps of food, fuel, and other warlike stores at a point 23 miles in the desert roughly south from the Alamein station, close to the Qattara Depression, and almost on the Fuka-Cairo track.

The column camped at Burg el Arab. While the men got busy digging slit trenches, establishing cookhouses and planting ‘desert lilies’, Majors Maxwell and Dickson reconnoitred the terrain and took compass bearings. Then, far out in the desert, they drove a peg. This was to be the objective for their nightly convoys, travelling by compass in total blackout. They themselves would take turns at leading the columns.

With Trevor Sims

Sgt T. H. Sims, m.i.d.; Petone; born Hawera, 16 Jan 1911; plate maker; wounded 2 Jun 1944.

driving, Major Dickson led the first expedition. During the day the men had loaded their trucks at Burg el Arab station and received their instructions. They were to cross the railway after dark at El Alamein and proceed in convoy to their destination. There, infantry details travelling with the convoy would dig pits and bury the caches. The column had to complete its job and be on the Matruh-Alexandria road, clear of the Alamein area, by daylight.

Leading off into the ‘blue’ on that first night, the OC stood up in his car with head poked through the open sun-top, taking a bearing. He noted a constellation dead in line and thereafter steered by that–to the consternation of Sims, whose choice now lay between charging down such obstacles as boulders, thickets and wadis, or incurring the OC's wrath for driving off course. By such methods they led that first convoy to within feet of the marking peg; and on successive nights vehicles had simply to follow the tracks thus made for them in the sand.

Nevertheless, this proved a nerve-racking assignment for drivers unaccustomed to blackout operation in the desert; and on the night of 21-22 July several trucks piled up, causing damage to three vehicles and half-a-dozen men. Two of the load-carriers were repaired in the field; the other was towed back to Maadi by the Company's breakdown unit. Petrol Company's Alec Ness

Sgt A. Ness; Dunedin; born NZ 10 Jan 1916; mercer's assistant.

and five Supply Column drivers were evacuated to hospital.

A few weeks later–on 28 Aug 1940—Petrol Company suffered its first fatality, Dvr M. C. Talbot being accidentally killed while on convoy work in the Western Desert.

In a report on this incident Staff-Sergeant Barnett noted that the mishap was caused by darkness, dust and bad visibility. He did not consider the drivers were negligent. Column distance, he observed, was 50 yards, in bad going with no lights allowed. He recommended to OC Petrol Company (for transmission to Commander NZASC)

Colonel Crump.

that for night driving in future a coloured light be attached to the rear member of each truck chassis for the following driver to use as a guide. This light would not be visible from the air. He also recommended that all vehicles operating in the desert be equipped with sand trays or steel netting tracks. All these measures were adopted as desert warfare progressed.

New Zealanders were not the only ones with truck troubles at that time. The frequency of mishaps in which vehicles driven by British troops were involved resulted in a warning in routine orders that disciplinary action would be taken if the driver of the vehicle was at fault. During June and July there were 129 cases involving death or serious injury in the Cairo sub-area alone. It was of the highest importance, the order stated, that personnel and vehicles should not be out of action through avoidable injury, and that a better impression should prevail of the degree of driving skill of British troops.

Egyptian Army and Cypriot drivers were much on the roads then, and a more slap-happy lot it would be hard to imagine. Their antics in the Western Desert (they were withdrawn when hostilities really began) spread alarm and despondency among our troops and must have caused theirs some grave supply shortages due to the non-arrival of vehicles, or their arrival with only a remnant of their original load, the rest having bounced off in transit. Their lorries, wrecked and abandoned along the desert road, provided a useful source of ‘spares’ for the Company's Workshops Section.

One such vehicle was spotted by Captain McDonagh during the Maxforce business, on the road between Baggush and the Divisional Petrol Company's camp. That night a workshops truck visited the scene and removed the Gippo's engine. It was duly delivered to Workshops HQ, where Captain McDonagh was annoyed to learn that someone had got in first and taken the generator. The sequel came a few evenings later, when officers from a Divisional Ammunition detachment, camped nearby, foregathered with their Petrol Company cronies for a drink.

Ammo's Bob Aitken

Maj R. C. Aitken; born England, 6 Jul 1894; mechanic.

told a sad tale of how a few nights back he had spotted an abandoned truck and removed its generator, deciding to return later on for the engine. But he found when he went back that ‘some thieving B— had stolen it’. When told the identity of the ‘thieving B—’ he generously forgave him and donated the Gippo's generator to Petrol Company.

About this time Harry Barnett found a beautiful Ford station wagon, brand new, left unattended a few miles up the road. A Petrol Company Workshops party soon had the vehicle towed behind some sandhills, for attention later, under cover of darkness. They prayed for a wind, which would restrict visibility and leave their prize undiscovered. But instead of a wind, an Egyptian recovery vehicle arrived and whisked the broken-down wagon away.

Soon, however, authority put a stop to all that, and routine orders announced that ‘the removal of any equipment from abandoned vehicles, or any form of pilfering whatsoever, must cease, otherwise disciplinary action will be taken against offenders’.

After the Maxforce project Petrol Company returned to Maadi, where its headquarters remained throughout August. On Sunday, 8 September, they moved ‘up the blue’ again, following the now familiar route via Cairo, Mena, the Halfway House at Wadi Natrun; then on to Amiriya and the Western Desert road, with its signposts pointing helpfully to such places as Tobruck, Tobrouk, and Tobruk. One could always get a beer—or at least a mug of ‘chai’—at the Halfway House NAAFI; and it was a poor convoy commander who couldn't work out his schedule of halts to include one there.

After a brief sojourn at Ikingi Maryut, 123 of the Company's Middle East personnel (which now numbered 169) made camp, on 18 September, at El Daba. Those left behind were Second-Lieutenant McCook with 33 other ranks to form a Composite Company with Supply Column men at Maadi, a few in hospital, and five attached to 2/2 MAC.

Motor Ambulance Convoy.

‘Our main occupation for some time’, wrote one Petrol Company NCO, ‘was dig, dig, dig. Getting the chaps to sink their funkholes down to sufficient depth was quite a job, until the bombing raids started. After that there was no trouble, and picks and shovels could be heard going at all sorts of odd hours of the day and night.’ Mess and orderly-room tents were sandbagged and dug in–so well, in fact, that one wag suggested dropping supplies in by parachute!

But enemy air activity then was more of a diversion than a threat to life, even though the Italians had begun—on 13 September—their long-awaited advance. With six infantry divisions and eight tank battalions they surged across the border. Their objective? Not the conquest of Egypt, which would give them Alexandria, Cairo and the Suez Canal— strategic prizes of inestimable value. No; their modest target was Sidi Barrani, a tiny outpost not far from the frontier and a hundred miles short of the British positions at Mersa Matruh. There Graziani halted and began to build a ring of forts, the immediate purpose still being defensive, but with the possibility that this zone would be used later on as the springboard for an all-out attack upon Egypt.

New Zealand combatant troops occupied the Baggush Box,

C Section men in Tobruk, 2 December 1941black and white photograph of soldiers sitting beside truck

Cookhouse at Fuka, Christmas Day, 1941black and white photograph of soldiers inside tent

General Freyberg's caravan made by 13 Section, Workshopsblack and white photograph of army vehicle

‘Hori’ Perston breaks away in a rugby match at Fayid, February 1942black and white photograph of soldiers playing

Petrol Compnay on the way to Syria, March 1942black and white photograph of army vehicles on the move

Workshops' cook truck stuch fast in soft sand in the Sinai Descrtblack and white photograph of broken down truck

Syria: the upper reaches of the Orontes Riverblack and white photograph of river flowing through hills

Water sellerblack and white photograph of civilian carrying water

GREECEcolour map of greece a defence sector bounded on the north by the Mediterranean, to the south by the escarpment—a steep-faced plateau of lime- stonelimestone rising in places to some 500 feet. This ‘box’ lay some miles to the rear of Matruh (then the British front) and about 140 miles from Sollum, on the Libyan border. Stretching inland from Sollum to Siwa was ‘the Wire’, a barbed entanglement erected by the Italians in 1932. Without demolition this barrier could be crossed at only four places, all of which were closely guarded by the Italians.

From the Daba railway station—about 110 miles from Alexandria and some 90 miles from Matruh—vast quantities of materials had to be carted, to New Zealand troops in the Baggush Box and to the Tommies and Indians farther up. So Petrol Company joined Freyberg's ‘Colonial Carrying Company’ and bunged in. One trip took them to Maadi, for a load of gift parcels from New Zealand. But mostly they carried ‘general’ cargoes–RE stores, ammunition, petrol, foodstuffs— and sometimes troops, up the ‘blue’.

By then Italian planes were becoming rather a nuisance over Matruh, and orders decreed that when a red flag (air-raid warning) was hoisted above the fortress all traffic must stop and personnel take cover in dugouts and slit trenches. Petrol Company drivers were quick to note that the smartest at obeying this instruction were the Egyptians who ran the Mersa NAAFI. So, an unattended NAAFI being the answer to an army driver's dream, a system was soon worked out to take advantage of these temporary absences.

Petrol Company spent two and a half months at Daba, and the period passed quite happily. Set times were allotted for work, for vehicle maintenance, and for recreation. With the sea only three miles away, and the season being autumn, bathing was popular for a while. Then interest switched to soccer, since the ground was too hard for rugby. Supplies of beer were adequate, and in the lengthening evenings our men found comfort in that, and in the resultant song.

There was, however, one notable drawback—the flies. ‘All day and every day’, wrote one Petrol Company diarist, ‘they swarm around from daylight to dark and plague our lives out. At mealtimes they are unbearable, and when one tries to sit down in peace to write or read they delight in pestering one. They get up your nose and in your mouth, and even sit on the nib of the pen. We swat and swat and must have killed millions, but there are billions still left behind.’ Nor were flies the only menace, for the account continues: ‘Bill Davis woke at 3 a.m. yesterday with a 15 inch snake in his bed. We questioned what sort of a snake it was—pink, blue, or spotted. But Bill produced the evidence all right, and skinned it and made a good book-mark out of it.’

On 28 September Captain Ramsden set out with a small Petrol Company convoy taking rations and mail for C Company of I Battalion, King's Royal Rifle Corps, then camped at Siwa. With him went ten other ranks, one Humber staff car, three 3-ton Bedfords, one 30-cwt Bedford, one Bren gun and one Lewis gun. The party left camp at 7.55 a.m. with five days' rations and 164 gallons of reserve petrol.

Next day, at 5 p.m., they made Siwa, fulfilling various assignments there and en route. On 30 September they rested, bathing—perhaps wistfully—in Cleopatra's Pool, and enjoying the pleasant greenness of the surroundings. On the way back they tried to give a lift to some Senussi refugees. At that time many desert families, accustomed to driving their herds to and fro across the border, were threatened with starvation when hostilities closed the frontier; British convoys had orders to help them whenever possible. This group, however, proved suspicious, and language difficulties made explanations awkward, so they went their own way.

The convoy returned to Petrol Company Headquarters on 2 October, having travelled 560 miles. Its only mishap was one broken spring-leaf.

On 27 September Cpl Gilmore, while riding a motor-cycle from Ikingi Maryut to Baggush before dawn, crashed into a boulder and broke some ribs. He was admitted to an Australian field ambulance.

By now General Wavell's plan for attacking the Italians was building up. The enemy's stalling had played into Wavell's hands, allowing reinforcements from Britain—including a much-needed armoured brigade—to make the three-month journey round South Africa. At Helwan 6 Australian Division had arrived; New Zealand's Third Echelon was at Maadi.

In the desert, troops were being moved up by stealth, and on 9 October Lieutenant Davis, with a convoy of twenty-one 3-ton lorries and four 30-cwts, took a battalion of 4 Indian Division from Baggush to a secret destination by night. This mission succeeded after a series of misadventures in which Davis, through stopping to help some Indian drivers held up by soft sand, lost touch with the convoy, was bailed up by an Egyptian sentry armed with a loaded rifle, and ‘pranged’ his car on a tar-drum.

Lieutenant Hunter also had his worries while on an expedition to Maadi that month to uplift base kits for distribution to New Zealand units in the Western Desert. This was to let the men get their winter clothing, underclothes, and woollen scarves and gloves. At the same time serge uniforms and spare boots were withdrawn and returned to Ordnance.

First shock to the lieutenant's system came when one of his drivers was arrested at Maadi. That was on the night of Sunday, 27 October. Next morning at 4 a.m., as the convoy was lined up ready to leave for the Desert again, he found that another driver was AWOL; so the party had to proceed without him.

‘Whilst travelling through the suburb of Maadi’, Hunter reported, ‘I was informed by air-raid wardens that a raid was in progress. I therefore gave instructions for the convoy to proceed without lights and at a reduced speed. Due to this, truck No. L 200941 driven by No. 6006, Dvr Neill, N. M., collided with a native donkey cart. Whilst halted for the morning meal on the Cairo-Alexandria Road at 0700, hours on 28 Oct 40, I was approached by No. 4335, Dvr Mace, H. F.,

Dvr H. F. Mace; Christchurch; born NZ 7 Jul 1912; printer; p.w. 1 Jun1941; escaped Jun 1941; recaptured Sep 1941.

who informed me that he was a stowaway and wished to return to his unit [Petrol Company—in the Western Desert; Mace had been left behind with the Composite Company in Maadi]. I had no option but to bring him into the W.D. He was returned to Maadi on Wednesday, 30 Oct 40.’

Air-raid alarms in Cairo and Maadi were frequent during this period, but no bombs fell until 20 October. On that night a single Italian plane unloaded thirteen ‘eggs’, some of which exploded near El Abadri, a native village close to Maadi Camp. One native was killed and six injured. Egyptian ack-ack provided extra hazards by showering the area with flak and nose-caps.

This was also the era of the ‘Thermos bomb’, so-called from its likeness in size and shape to an ordinary thermos flask. Italian aircraft scattered these gadgets broadcast in the Western Desert; the impact on landing served to prime them ready for detonation at the slightest touch. So thickly were they sown at one stage that the movement of vehicles by night was curtailed to ‘strictly necessary purposes’. Methods of dealing with the thermos bomb, however, were soon found—they could be detonated by small-arms fire or by wires dragged behind Bren carriers—so this weapon's effectiveness was quickly cancelled. Petrol Company suffered no casualties from it, though two men were injured by Italian hand grenades.

Troops back in Maadi were treated, on 25 October, to yet another ceremonial parade, this time in honour of Britain's Secretary of State for War, the Rt. Hon. Anthony Eden, accompanied by General Wavell, Lieutenant-General Wilson and Major-General Freyberg. During the preceding few days Mr Eden had visited troops of the First Echelon at Maaten Baggush and other points in the Western Desert. After the review at Maadi he conveyed to the men, in a Special Order of the Day, the appreciation of the British Government of the part being played by New Zcalanders in the Empire's cause.

‘I welcomed your First Contingent when they arrived in Egypt’, said this message. ‘I have just seen them fighting fit in the Western Desert; I saw the Second Contingent in England waiting for Hitler's invasion. Today I have seen the Third Contingent, and I cannot tell you how impressed I am by the wonderful physique and bearing of the New Zealand troops.’ He wished them good luck and Godspeed.

November 1940 brought the Petrol Company its first real taste of desert winter. Temperatures dropped, and the nights became very cold. Icy winds pierced the thickest clothing. On the first of the month A Section's sergeant noted in his diary: ‘Here I am with the 19 Bn in a howling dust-storm. My vehicles are scattered to hell, five with the Wellington-West Coast Coy, five with the Taranakis, and two, plus the AA, with HQ. Fortunately I have good reliable drivers in most cases, and have left good men i/c of each group (Bickers

Sgt R. J. Bickers; Porangahau; born NZ 29 Jan 1906; fisherman.

with the WWC and Stubbs with TARA, keeping Gilmore with me) so things should be O.K. Have just been over to see how they were doing, but all have gone into the desert on manoeuvres and won't be back until 0030 hours tomorrow.’

Next day he wrote: ‘The worst night I have heard yet in Egypt. I write “heard” because I wasn't out in it but was tucked up in my blankets by 1830 hours and just lay there and listened to the wind piping outside and to intermittent spells of heavy rain. Real rain! ! ! I was feeling very sorry for my chaps with TARA and WWC out in the blue all night, but on inspecting them this morning after they had returned they were all O.K. and had had no trouble in the Desert, thank goodness. Wind and sand is still flying everywhere this morning, making things far from pleasant. All hands here, including Sgts, mess in the open regardless of weather, so one gets used to the taste of sand.’

That month Lieutenant Hunter left Pètrol Company to replace Second-Lieutenant McCook, ex-Composite Company, at Maadi; and on 16 December ‘J.J.’ was marched out attached to 4 RMT Company. Thus Petrol Company lost a popular and efficient officer. December also saw the departure of Charles Graham—first to HQ NZASC, then to OCTU. To OCTU likewise went Ian Macphail (11 November) and Corporal Gilmore (27 December). In November Major Dickson was marched out to hospital with a fractured rib, attributed officially to a stumble in the dark down the orderly-room steps, but by rumour to scrum-practice in the officers' mess.

In December 1940 the war in the desert began to hot up; and Petrol Company took a hand in it. On the 4th

On 5 December Cpl Gilmore marched out, with three trucks, for attachment to 7 Armoured Division. Their role was to carry wooden bridging to enable our armour to negotiate tank traps during the advance. The officer who commanded the party during their attachment reported that the work had been carried out in an extremely business-like manner, and that the driving was of a particularly high standard. For this and other sterling work in the Western Desert, Gilmore gained the BEM.

the Company moved to Qasaba, and from then on its drivers worked flat out carting petrol, rations, blankets, firewood—and troops. On the 7th it was announced at a conference of officers that the Western Desert Force, of which the Company was part, would ‘carry out a reconnaissance in force, with the object of testing the strength of the Italian defences around Sidi Barrani.’

first libyan campaign opens, 9-11 december 1940 black and white map of army movement

Those defences then consisted of a loosely knit arc of camps stretching from Sidi Barrani on the sea coast to Safai deep in the desert. Between these two lay the strongholds of Tummar East, Tummar West, Nibeiwa and Rabia. There was also an outpost at Maktila, midway between Mersa Matruh and Sidi Barrani.

This ‘reconnaissance in force’ was, of course, the real thing— the opening gambit in a complicated plan of attack. Few officers knew the full details, for the success of the plan depended on surprise.

At dawn on 9 December a detachment of 7 Armoured Division attacked Nibeiwa. At the same time Indian troops, ‘planted’ in the desert by New Zealand transport the night before, went in with the bayonet—closely followed (no show without Punch!) by NCOs and drivers of the NZASC, thirsting for Italian blood. So successful was this action that in less than two hours the stronghold had fallen, thirty tanks were captured, and an Italian general (Maletti) killed. Into the bag went his second-in-command and fifty other officers, along with great masses of men and materials.

Tummar West and Tummar East fell in quick succession and by nightfall practically the whole of the area and most of its defenders were in our hands. While this was being accomplished armoured formations had worked round to the west of Sidi Barrani, blocking the garrison's escape. Next day the Coldstream Guards thrust westward from Mersa Matruh in a frontal attack on Sidi Barrani, supported by a heavy naval bombardment. That night the Guards reported having taken more prisoners than they could count; they had, they said, ‘about five acres of officers and 200 acres of other ranks’.

Throughout this action Lieutenant A. L. Lomas, NZMC, medical officer with 4 RMT Company, worked among the wounded in the open under heavy fire from artillery and machine guns. On 10 December he carried on from 1.30 p.m. to 3 a.m. next day without food or rest—an inspiring example of devotion to duty. For this he was awarded the Military Cross, one of the first to be gained in the New Zealand Division during this war. Jack Prichard,

Sgt N. J. Prichard, MM; Dunedin; born NZ 10 Nov 1916; law clerk.

Lomas's medical orderly, who also went overseas with Petrol Company's first echelon, won the Military Medal for similar stout work.

Now the hunt was on. Westward over the border the victors chased and harried their demoralised foe, inflicting heavy casualties. In London Prime Minister Churchill announced to an electrified House of Commons, and a world still incredulous of British victory: ‘We do not know yet how many Italians were caught in the encirclement, but it would not be surprising if at least the best part of three Italian divisions, including numerous Blackshirt formations, have been either destroyed or captured.

‘The pursuit to the westward continues with the greatest vigour. The Air Force are now bombing, the Navy shelling, the principal road open to the retreating enemy; and considerable additional captures have already been reported. While it is still too soon to measure the scale of these operations, it is clear that they constitute a victory which, in this African theatre of war, is of the first order.’

Petrol Company joined in the pursuit, all hands working non-stop to supply the fighting troops with food, munitions, petrol; rum, tobacco and mail. Their backloads were prisoners of war and salvage. They travelled now to Barrani, Sollum, Fort Capuzzo, Bardia. Convoys led by Lieutenant Davis and Second-Lieutenant McCook moved 17 Austraian Infantry Brigade from Sidi Haneish to Sollum—the same Aussies whom Petrol Company moved up for the attack on Bardia, and who soon were to storm the Tobruk fortress, singing ‘Waltzing Matilda’ and ‘The Wizard of Oz’.

The Bardia job followed closely on our Company's first Christmas overseas—a period marked by villainous sandstorms which continued off and on until the end of the month. Most of the Company's ‘Western Desert Branch’ managed to assemble for Christmas dinner, which commenced at 4.30 p.m., with the NCOs serving. Sergeant McNae

Sgt K. M. McNae; Midhurst, Taranaki; born NZ 28 Sep 1916; service driver; wounded and p.w. 21 May 1941.

and his helpers turned on a great spread: goose, beef, vegetables, plum-pudding, fruit salad, oranges, nuts, and two bottles of Aussie beer per man, ‘buckshee’.

The following conversation is reported, between Dvr ‘Jock’ Niven and a Petrol Company cobber: Jock: ‘Are ye no’ taking your beer, mon?' Cobber: ‘No. Never touch the stuff.’ Jock (aghast): ‘But mon, it's free! It's free!’

By half past five next morning every available Petrol Company driver had been called out and was on the job again in pitch darkness. Thereafter they drove for three solid days with scarcely a stop.

They returned to camp between 6 p.m. and midnight on 28 December and were ordered to be out again by 7 a.m. next day; so off they went for another three days—tired, unshaven, grubby, but still cheerful, and anxious not to miss a minute of this, their first real ‘show’. By 31 December they were back in camp again, without mishap, and busily drinking the Old Year out and the New Year in. From 5 December to 1 January the Company's desert detachment had travelled 83,685 miles. One of their stock runs, from the DID

Detail Issue Depot.

at Matruh to No. 9 FSD

Field Supply Depot.

across the border, was 218 miles each way. Mileage per vehicle, inclusive of all types, averaged 1819 for the period. Fuel consumption totalled 9835 gallons of petrol —roughly 8.5 miles to the gallon—and 109 gallons of oil

The three-tonners, of course, ran up most of this mileage, their percentage of the total being 62.8. Rough going—over the notorious Halfaya Pass—caused much damage to springs and radiators; but sterling work by a depleted Workshops sub-section kept the transport moving. No vehicles were laid up, and all demands on transport were met. Drivers often crossed miles of featureless desert alone, without map or compass, and with only scant directions.

Cpl L. Stubbs recalls that he was once instructed to take four trucks with meat, vegetables, bread, etc., to General Wavell's headquarters. He was given a map reference and a set of compass bearings. But when he asked for a compass, none was available. The detachment reached its destination and returned safely, after several days.

Yet they never failed to deliver their loads, sometimes thanks to makeshift running repairs requiring much ingenuity. This was the Company's first battle role, and all played their part with great credit.

Not all were angelic, of course. There was, for example, that deplorable business of the keg of Chianti, captured in battle (or thereabouts) by Tim Collins

Dvr S. M. Collins; Wellington; born NZ 20 Aug 1906; driver.

and his mates. Suspecting the existence of some such threat to good order and military discipline, Captain Ramsden, who was OC at the time, often sallied forth to seek out and destroy. But his searches of truck and bivvy yielded not one drop. He was forced to admit defeat—until one night, by chance, he saw the miscreants returning from the desert, pleasantly aglow. He was then able to follow their footprints and discover the cache—well planted, as they thought, among the sand-dunes.

On 8 January our men were forbidden while on duty to wear dress ‘of a pattern not issued by NZ Div’. But that did not deter them from picking up new uniforms from captured Italian dumps, and appearing rigged out like Ruritanian firemen. Italian dugouts, on account of their ‘livestock’, were also banned, while drivers were forbidden to sleep in caves (many of which still remained from Roman times) because they too were mostly infested with ticks and lice.

Carting Italian prisoners also had its moments, as, for example, when one Tommy sergeant, supervising the loading, gave each man a kick in the pants to help him aboard. Our drivers had instructions not to stop while carrying these cargoes, the result being a nice old mess in the trucks and no small pressure on the drivers' bladders. But soon our men used common sense and ignored this order.

A Petrol Company officer was once escorting a truckload of prisoners which got itself stuck in a patch of loose sand. He and his driver hopped out of their vehicle and began to shove the three-tonner—encouraged and applauded by the passengers. But a little of that was more than enough and those near the back of the truck were ordered to get down and lend a hand.

‘No! No! No!’ they protested. ‘Siamo uffizi!’ (‘We are officers’)—an argument which drew a suitably garnished reply.

On 6 January Jim Greig, again acting CSM, was concerned in an incident with PWs. ‘We proceeded through Sollum,’ he reported, ‘which is just a mass of ruins, and on to Fort Capuzzo where we loaded prisoners for Matruh. Left the Fort at 1000 hrs and reached just short of Barrani about 1300 hrs. Stopped for lunch but had no rations for the prisoners, who seemed to be fairly hungry. Unfortunately I had (entirely unawares) stopped near the prisoners’ former area, which they had only recently vacated, and several of them made a dash for it.

‘I yelled at them to stop and the nearest ones did so; but others who did not hear me kept running, so for the first time I used my revolver on Active Service and blazed a few rounds in the air after the runaways. That certainly stopped them, so I searched them all and apparently all the poor blighters had gone for were biscuits which they knew were in the dugouts. One or two were disinclined to go back to the trucks but a couple of revolver shots settled their doubts for them! ! !’

On 1 January 1941 Staff-Sergeant Barnett marched out to OCTU, followed by Corporal May on the 22nd and Sergeant Lyon

Capt G. W. Lyon, m.i.d.; born NZ 16 Jan 1915; clerk.

a month later. On 2 February Petrol Company established a ‘Feeding Point’ at Buq Buq, with Bill Ambrose in charge, to provide hot meals for convoys operating between Matruh and Sollum. This allowed drivers to attend to maintenance on their vehicles while the cooks were preparing a meal.

Following the dissolution of the NZASC Composite Company, Headquarters and other elements of Petrol Company made camp at Helwan. There a routine order of 6 February laid it down that any of the following items of captured Italian equipment held by Divisional Petrol Company personnel were to be returned immediately to the QM store: rifles, pistols, anti-tank guns, mortars, artillery, ammunition of any type, motor-cycles, motor vehicles. If this order aimed at preventing such trifles from being sent home in letters and parcels it was not entirely successful, for one driver claims to have forwarded to his wife, piecemeal, an enemy field-gun and a good supply of ammunition. What use she made of these small tokens is not disclosed.

Some three weeks later another RO forbade the inclusion, in letters and parcels, of animals, birds, reptiles, insects (including the eggs of insects) in their larval, pupal and adult stages, spiders, scorpions, and the eggs of spiders and scorpions. So much for the aspirations of our khaki-clad naturalists— though it is on record that one man did send home a snake (wrapped in newspaper) which ripened en route and rotted all the mail in the bag.

On 19 February 1941 the Buq Buq ‘Rest House’ closed. Next day the desert detachment struck camp at El Daba and moved back to Helwan. A fortnight later Petrol Company (Middle East), which now included a small Third Echelon party, transferred to the British transit camp at Amiriya. There, on 8 March, they were joined by their Second Echelon associates, newly arrived from England. And so, at last, the Company was complete.

CHAPTER 7 Campaign in Greece

In Greece Petrol Company first met that pattern of death, destruction and defeat so often to be repeated before final victory. There the Division fought its first campaign, with Army Service Corps units functioning according to the book— or trying to. This campaign, like the one in Crete, has aroused much controversy, and armchair strategists, mightier with the pen than with the sword, have raked it well over.

But because the driver in his truck, like the infanteer in his slit trench, has little chance of gathering in the broad issues involved, these will be sketched briefly as we go along, to let him know just what was at stake as he hurtled over the glorified cart tracks of Greece or cursed the strafings of the Luftwaffe.

By February 1941, General O'Connor's victories in North Africa had destroyed ten Italian divisions, captured 130,000 prisoners, 400 tanks and 1290 guns. His army had advanced 600 miles at a cost of fewer than 3000 casualties. The Greek adventure robbed these successes of what seemed to be their logical fruition—a drive to Tripoli, the securing of air bases in North Africa, and the restoration of British control over the Central Mediterranean.

Our GOG had no illusions about how tough the Greek campaign was going to be. He made that plain when bidding farewell to General Wavell in Egypt on 5 March, and also in a Special Order of the Day which was read to all troops after they had sailed.

‘It was a solemn thought’, General Freyberg records,‘to be the Advance Guard of a British Army in the Balkans, especially against an enemy like the Germans, fully equipped and outnumbering us by three or four to one. It is true that they had no easy lines of communications; but difficult though these were they were quicker than our seaborne system of supplies. I wondered who had given the order for us to come. I should not have liked to make the decision.’

Italy had attacked Greece on 28 October 1940. Against their more numerous and better-armed foe the Greeks fought well, quickly seizing the initiative, and threatening to hurl the Italians back through Albania into the sea. So, after anxious consultations between Hitler and Mussolini, in February 1941 German armies began to assemble in Bulgaria, where they became a menace not only to the flank of the Greek Army fighting in Albania, but also to Yugoslavia and Turkey.

This threat of a strong German thrust down the Balkan Peninsula to the shores of the Eastern Mediterranean, and perhaps through Turkey and Syria (then held by Vichy France) to the Suez Canal, was far too dangerous to ignore. With the Greeks holding the Italians, Yugoslavia coming in (it was hoped) on our side, and Turkey at least remaining neutral, there seemed an odds-on chance that a British Expeditionary Force to Greece could serve a useful purpose. It would stiffen Balkan resistance to the Axis. It would most certainly make the Germans fight for what they wanted, and it might have far-reaching effects on the attitude of Russia and America. Besides, underlying the whole problem was the moral issue. Not only was Britain anxious to honour her treaty pledges to Greece, her only remaining ally on the Continent, but failure to do so might have thrown the few states still neutral into the Axis fold.

That New Zealand troops were chosen to be the advanced guard of this expedition was an honour indeed—though one of which even our GOC was unaware when he issued orders on Christmas Day 1940 for 4 Infantry Brigade (then in the Western Desert) to concentrate with the rest of the Division at Helwan. At that time, as we have seen, the Second Echelon had already begun to move from the United Kingdom to the Middle East. Not until 17 February 1941 was Freyberg apprised of the New Zealand Division's vital role; and so, with fully one-third of his force still on the high seas, it took planning of a high order to channel all the various units and their equipment swiftly to the embarkation point.

Secrecy was essential. And Petrol Company, groping around with the others in the murk of a three-day khamseen at Amiriya, could only guess from their issue of tropical kit and the usual rumours and ‘latrinograms’ just where the coming move would take them. Even the Brigadiers did not know. On 24 February General Freyberg interviewed them singly and disclosed their destination—a line to be held along the mountains of Macedonia (Northern Greece). He warned them that the move must not be discussed, even among themselves. On 26 February orders were issued to Divisional COs; but still no theatre of war was named.

From Amiriya units moved at the direction of Middle East Movement Control, whose ways seemed more than a little strange and caused the GOC much concern. He sailed from Alexandria with the first flight in HMS York on the morning of 6 March. Other ‘grey funnels’ in that historic convoy were HM Ships Gloucester, Orion, Ajax, Breconshire and Bonaventure. And as they waited on board for the time of departure our soldiers watched every kind of weapon and military vehicle moving to the ships, mostly small freighters, which were to carry this mass of equipment to Greece.

With it went the vehicles of Petrol Company, under command of Captain McDonagh, with one driver to each truck. On leaving camp they had just enough petrol to get them to the wharves at Alex. There fuel tanks were drained and the vehicles hoisted aboard. Their vessel was the Thermopylae. The balance of Petrol Company crossed with the third flight on 17 March in HMAS Perth. Major Dickson was OC Troops on board this vessel, which carried other units besides his own. He reports a very fast crossing (23 hours) in fine weather, and troops were treated with the usual excellent naval hospitality. The Company disembarked at Piraeus, the port of Athens, carrying field kits and rifles, and were taken by Army MT to their first camp at Kifisia, a few miles from the Greek capital.

True to their flair for independent action, on the night before embarkation some forty or fifty Petrol Company men took French leave to go ‘on the scoot’ in Alex. They had decided, reasonably enough, that the fleshpots of the city were preferable to the trials and discomforts of the Amiriya transit camp, where conditions were, in fact, extremely disagreeable. And besides, there were reunions to be celebrated with friends and relatives recently arrived from the United Kingdom, and among the 4th Reinforcements from New Zealand. There were also some fights.

So one of the first events for Petrol Company in the new country was a man-sized Orderly Room with most of the culprits duly arraigned. Similar ceremonies followed, as scores —real or imagined—were settled between the hard-bitten veterans of the First Echelon and the much-travelled warriors of the Second, who were still regarded as ‘glamour boys’ and ‘Cooks' Tourists’.

Nevertheless, the Company soon coalesced, and all such nonsense ceased when the men were given a real job of work. In the meantime Captain McDonagh's private gaol, which had somehow found its way to Greece, along with his own private bath—a porcelain one—was kept fully stocked. This unofficial ‘hoosegah’ was made of sheet iron; and Erle Stewart

Sgt E. R. Stewart; New Plymouth; born NZ 17 Nov 1911; mechanic.

remembers helping once to bust it open and release the contents, which included his own special cobber, Trevor Casey.

Dvr R. T. Casey; New Plymouth; born Wellington, 31 Aug 1921; plumber; p.w. 1 Jun 1941; escaped Aug 1941; p.w. 24 Nov 1941; escaped Sep 1943.

Casey, incidentally, was one of the Company's ‘juveniles’, and had enlisted for service when scarcely 18. But that did not prevent him from becoming a first-class soldier and a noted escapist from the Jerry ‘bag’, first in Crete, later in Italy.

Concerning these early-day orderly rooms in Greece, Second-Lieutenant Collins recalls one typical bright spot. He then had command of the Company's B Section, composed entirely of Second Echelon men. Following what must have been a pretty general Donnybrook, he found one morning virtually his whole section up on the carpet. Captain Ramsden, then second-in- command of the Company, treated them all to a stiff dressing-down. ‘Some men behave like gentlemen’, he thundered, ‘others like mongrels’. Whereupon Collins's driver with a verbal side-kick at Major Dickson's batman (known to the Company as ‘the gentleman's gentleman’), remarked in an audible stage whisper: ‘Then I must be the mongrel's mongrel’.

For the first few days it was ‘roses, roses all the way’ for our men in Greece. Once again they found themselves among friendly people in a friendly land. ‘It reminds me’, one man wrote, ‘of the hills round Matau, and there are small herds of sheep—very poor specimens, more like a cross between a sheep and a goat, and mostly black. They are minded by shepherds, some women and some boys, but all very old-fashioned and poorly dressed. It is quite hot in the daytime; I am in shorts and singlet; but the nights are a bit cold.’

The Greek people gave the men a resounding welcome, showering their trucks with flowers, offering fruit, cigarettes, smiles and hospitality. Athens, by day, still had an air of gaiety, though there were few young men in the streets and many of the local folk wore black armbands, in mourning for relatives lost on the Albanian front. At night there was a curfew and a heavy blackout.

In a letter home one Petrol Company driver wrote:

It is great fun trying to make them understand what you want. The first night we landed we went into the local village (which was well back, and had a few wines) and tried to tell them that we wanted a feed of eggs and chips. But they could not understand until I went out into the kitchen and produced an egg, a potato, and the frying-pan. Then we duly got our meal—all for ninepence!

I had an afternoon leave from there to go into the capital, about twelve miles away…. arrived in the heart of the city and had a trim up and shampoo and then away for a bath at the local bathhouse, which was huge—six storeys high and nothing but bathrooms. We went up to the fourth floor, as there were soldiers waiting everywhere below. We found it just as bad up there, and had to wait for 1½ hours. But our turn finally came, and we were provided with towels and soap for 7d. and were supposed to tip the attendant about another 2½d.

We are quite used to the money now; it's a little more than double our pence to the £1.

There were some wonderful old ruins on the hills outside the town, but we had no time to go to them as it was nearly dark….

I must close now, dear, as I am on cookhouse fatigue today and it is getting near teatime; bully stew and hard biscuits, followed by rice and raisins tonight.

The Division's front-line units were also encamped among the hills, at Hymettus, a few miles away from the ASC lines. But time was working against the Allies; so, after a brief rest there, our troops began their long trek northwards into the mountains of Macedonia, where Greek troops were deployed across the path of the expected invasion. The New Zealanders were to hold the Aliakmon line, extending from the sea coast south of Salonika in a north-westerly direction to the Yugoslav border. If Yugoslavia stood firm, and resisted Axis pressure, the anticipated advance of the Germans from Bulgaria into northern Greece could well be halted at this line, which covered the vital passes through the mountains. But if the Yugoslavs ‘broke’ and allowed the Germans through, the Aliakmon line would not be worth the proverbial cupful of cold snow. German forces could then pour down through the Monastir Gap to Florina and Kozani, encircle the Aliakmon positions, and put every soldier there in the bag.

Besides the New Zealand Division, the British Expeditionary Force in Greece was originally planned to include 1 Armoured Brigade, 6 Australian Division, the Polish Independent Brigade Group, and 7 Australian Division. Formations were to proceed to Greece in that order. But with General Rommel's sudden advance into Cyrenaica the Polish Brigade Group and 7 Australian Division were held back to defend Tobruk. Sixth Australian Division arrived late; and so, when the Germans invaded northern Greece early in April, the New Zealand Division and 1 Armoured Brigade were the only British formations complete and in place in the forward area.

Their position was most precarious. Three Greek divisions (one of them only just formed) had been detailed to assist the British force; but they were poorly equipped, had few automatic weapons, little artillery, and no anti-tank guns. ‘My visit to the Greek Army’, writes General Freyberg, ‘filled me with mixed feelings…. I was astonished to see that their first line transport was composed entirely of ox wagons and pack animals which of course could only travel a very limited distance in a day at a very slow speed—actually at a slower pace than troops could march.’ When the New Zealanders arrived, 19 Greek Division was withdrawn and moved to Thrace. This meant that our brigades had to prepare and hold a defensive position on a 28,500 yard front, right in the path of a German Balkan Army numbering twelve to fourteen divisions backed by armour and a vastly superior air force. On 3 April General Freyberg wrote in his diary: ‘The situation is a grave one; we shall be fighting against heavy odds in a plan that has been ill-conceived and one that violates every principle of military strategy.’ He considered that had the New Zealanders been forced to stay on that position and fight, the Division, with the whole of its equipment, would have been rounded up in the first phase of the campaign.

Meanwhile Petrol Company and other NZASC units, all unaware of the dark clouds gathering, were constantly on the move over narrow winding roads under trying conditions. Thousands of tons of supplies of all kinds—petrol, food, ammunition, RE stores, hospital supplies, tents, boots, and blankets—were pouring into Greece. All had to be uplifted, unscrambled, and delivered to the units, now taking up their positions amid the rain, ice and snow of the northern mountains. Sometimes troops were carried; and Petrol Company, in addition, bore the responsibility of ‘feeding’ the whole Division (whose headquarters was then at Katerini) with petrol, oil and lubricants, to keep its heterogeneous mass of transport moving.

Alec Rusden wrote at this stage: ‘Went with my own officer, Capt Ramsden, on a sort of recce on the journey through Greece, and for the first time started to serve in my correct capacity—that of S/Sgt of the Petrol Supply Detail. We were a small unit within the Company—one officer, one senior NCO, two corporals and one driver.’ In one form or another—sometimes just a corporal and a couple of other ranks, at other times a full-scale Petrol Issuing Section—the Petrol Supply Detail, operating a petrol point, became well known to the Division during later campaigns.

Its function was to ‘retail the juice’—sometimes from dumps, often from the trays of half-a-dozen trucks—to the transport of the fighting units. The Detail kept accounts of all issues made, and of stocks on hand, so that a daily statement of the Division's POL situation could be prepared by Petrol Company's commanding officer and submitted to HQ NZASC. From there Divisional Headquarters was kept informed of the petrol position, upon which the Division's mobility depended.

Bulk supplies came forward from a well-planned system of Base and Advanced Base Supply Depots, Forward Supply Depots, and Field Dumps, whose establishment and operation were the business of the DDST (Deputy Director of Supply and Transport, then Brigadier W. d'A. Collings). He kept in close touch with the tactical situation and made his dispositions accordingly.

Some three months before the main force had gone to Greece a New Zealand unit (3 Section of 9 Railway Survey Company) went over to help survey the wide Thriasion Plain, west of Athens, where it was proposed to establish a depot for petrol and oil. This depot, however, was not constructed; and it was decided instead that petrol would be imported in bulk and sent forward in tins. The section also helped in a reconnaissance and survey of the Greek railway system—the upshot being a decision that supplies would be maintained by road, as the railways were short of rolling stock and, in any case, fully used by the Greeks.

These decisions directly affected Petrol Company drivers, officers and NCOs, by determining the pattern of their operations in Greece. A good motor road led from Athens to Larisa, and continued for some distance north-west. A branch of this road ran from Kozani to Salonika. Almost all the others were mere cart tracks, so road repair and construction was an added responsibility for the Division as it manned the so-called Aliakmon line. Parts of the main highway were mountainous, with all the hazards snow and ice create on a narrow, winding, steep-graded route.

The only first-class ports in Greece were Piraeus and Salonika, with a second-class one at Volos. There were a few smaller harbours, notably at Stilis and Khalkis, of some use for supply purposes, but they lacked facilities. Base Supply Depot for the Force was at Athens racecourse, with an Advanced Base at Larisa. The latter was to be supplied by rail and road from Athens, and by rail from Volos, since the road from Volos to Larisa was not good enough for truck transport. No use was made of the port facilities at Salonika.

To our Petrol Company drivers, then trying to cope with the exigencies of a supply situation which to them seemed more than a little crazy, the following report by the DDST, Brigadier Collings, will be illuminating:

Even before I arrived in Greece, some large consignments of supplies had arrived. Owing to the demands of secrecy, the Base Supply Depot had had no previous warning to expect them, and as soon as they did arrive the ships had to be unloaded and released and the docks cleared without any delay. The staff of the BSD was quite inadequate to control the situation, and when I visited the Depot, which was established on the Athens Racecourse, the morning following my arrival, I found a scene of the greatest confusion.

The grandstands were piled to the roof with supplies, a DID was trying to operate in the Totalisator Hall, and the race-track, for four furlongs, was one almost solid stack of supplies, all hopelessly mixed up and with an enormously high percentage of broken cases. On the far side of the course was a large stock of petrol and lubricants, and very close to it many thousand gallons of Molotov Cocktail mixture. The Depot had no idea of what stocks they had, and even had personnel been available for stocktaking, this would have been a physical impossibility.

The OC was recovering from the effects of a broken pelvis, and was on crutches and hardly able to get from his car to his office without assistance; and of his two officers, one spent his whole time at the docks, and the other trying to load up convoys and trains. The Depot Supt, a Master Baker, who was making gallant efforts to deal with the situation, was at his wits' end.

The situation at Larisa, though on a smaller scale, was just as bad, if not worse. The DAQMG before my arrival had given orders, with the objects of relieving the strain on the BSD, helping to clear the docks, and making a start for an Advance Supply Depot, that trains should be loaded with supplies at the docks at Piraeus, and sent straight through to Larisa. The only RASC at that place was a det of 232 (Cypriot) Coy, who were instructed to do the best they could about these supplies until a Supply det arrived to take them over. As there was very little transport and labour, the supplies were unloaded onto the side of the line, which soon became very congested, and where there was no prospect of guarding them effectively. No way bills or convoy notes had been made out at the docks, and it was a physical impossibility for 232 Coy to check these supplies.

For the first phase of the Greek campaign, i.e., the period between the arrival of the Force at the beginning of March and the German declaration of war on Greece on 6 April, the following supply-line plan operated:

Ports — Piraeus and Volos Base Area — Athens Advanced Base — Larisa FSDs — Livadhion, Servia, Kozani Field Dumps — Katerini, Veroia, Edhessa, Amindaion

Each FSD was to be kept stocked with ten days'supplies, and POL at the rate of 100 miles per vehicle for the portion of the Force which was expected to be based on it. Two refills of ammunition were also to be stored near each FSD. At the forward dumps, POL at the rate of 100 miles per vehicle was stored, in addition to rations.

All transport units were pressed into service for local details as soon as they had any vehicles and until they were required to move forward. Included in these was the Divisional Petrol Company, which soon followed the Division on its three-day trek northward into the mountains. There the Company's base was at Sadovon in the Olympus Range, near the town of Elasson, some miles to the south of the front-line positions. Between them and the Division lay the famous Mount Olympus and the Olympus and Servia passes. Eastward, between the ranges and the coast, was the Platamon railway tunnel. The passes and the tunnel provided gateways through which Axis troops might move if they once secured a footing in northern Greece; so, besides manning, roading, and constructing defences on the virtually unprepared positions of the Aliakmon line, our Division was also required to prepare demolitions which would deny those vital defiles to the enemy.

Between Mount Olympus and the front line lay the town of Katerini, with good railway facilities, where Staff-Sergeant Rusden and Corporal Fitzgerald

Capt J. M. Fitzgerald; born NZ 19 May 1917; civil servant.

had been sent to prepare a Forward Petrol Dump for the Division.

‘Those were busy days’, Staff-Sergeant Rusden recalls, ‘with very little transport, and that only by courtesy of the Supply Company. I think Major Pryde

Maj N. M. Pryde, MBE, ED; Papakura; born Waikaka Valley, Southland,6 May 1899; bank accountant; OC Sup Coy Mar 1941-Dec 1942; 2 Amn Coy Dec 1942-Jun 1943.

was heartily sick of us by the time the Dump was finished. We were unofficially looked after by a wild-looking specimen of Greek manhood who flashed a dangerous-looking scimitar whenever we were watching him, and explained with extravagant gestures just what he would do to the Germans if they came. Jimmy was his name, and he had a long white beard. Eventually we completed the Divisional Dump with POL—but within a matter of hours came the order: “All POL to be loaded and railed south. Special train detailed. Immediate.” What a blow! But it had to be done, and on time, too. Fortunately I had some spare drachmæ, and was able to hire some Greek labour, so the train was loaded and away on time. I heard later that the whole lot was blown sky-high not far down the line.’

By that time, of course, the gathering stormclouds had burst. On 6 April Germany attacked both Greece and Yugoslavia, crumpling their armies in very short order. For the British there was only one answer: a rapid withdrawal from the now untenable Aliakmon positions to the ‘Line of the Passes’ flanking Mount Olympus. On 7 April the Force Commander, General Wilson, gave orders for this; and so, nearly a month's work by the New Zealand Division, and a large proportion of its wire and mines, which had been put into the Aliakmon line, went by the board. Petrol Company aided the withdrawal by uplifting troops and supplies. During the last days of March and the first few days of April, our drivers had been flat out carting POL from Larisa to petrol points and to the forward dump at Katerini. From there, as we have seen, it was promptly sent south again, and some of it lost.

On 7 April a Petrol Company convoy of 35 3-ton and 18 30- cwt lorries uplifted the newly-arrived ? Australian Battalion with baggage and delivered the troops to their positions at Vevi. The vehicles brought a back-load of petrol from Servia to No. 5 FSD. Returning to camp at 9 a.m. next day, our trucks were despatched almost immediately in two convoys, one to uplift RE stores from Katerini, the other to load petrol and rations at Kozani and deliver them to No. 5 FSD. The latter task was completed and the vehicles back in camp by 11 p.m.

Two hours later (at 1 a.m.) the first convoy reported in with its load of RE stores, and was despatched, at 10 a.m. on 11 April, to the FSD, returning at midday. At 3 p.m. all Petrol Company trucks were ordered out on a three-fold mission: (1) to evacuate a Greek and an Australian battalion from Amindaion to Kozani; (2) return to the Amindaion area and bring out ammunition to Kozani; (3) return to Amindaion and retrieve stocks of POL. Since by then the enemy had reached Salonika, and the evacuation of the Aliakmon line was completed, this order was modified, the petrol and ammunition being taken instead to Grevena. Lieutenant Jackson,

Lt E. J. Jackson; Christchurch; born Greymouth, 4 Mar 1906; company representative; wounded 20 May 1941.

the OC's liaison officer with the convoy, could find no trace of the Australian battalion, which had presumably been evacuated by other means. Many Greek soldiers were brought out, in a more or less demoralised state, and our drivers had some difficulty in getting them to quit the vehicles so they could carry out the rest of their assignment.

During this operation Lieutenant Chissell's

Lt N. F. Chissell; born NZ 25 May 1917; garage attendant; killed in action18 Apr 1941.

section of twenty-two trucks received some attention from the Luftwaffe, and he showed great resource in getting his load-carriers out of trouble by leading them down a riverbed to Trikkala, and thence back to Petrol Company headquarters. Sergeant Greig also had a narrow escape with some trucks at Kozani, bringing them out just ahead of the Germans as they entered that town. This was a period of non-stop activity for Petrol Company drivers, who played a vital part in what General Freyberg has described as ‘a most successful withdrawal to the Line of the Passes without loss of any kind’. All ammunition, petrol, and supplies dumped in forward areas were salvaged, all troops safely evacuated.

These operations were helped by prevailing drizzle and low cloud—the ‘Miracle of the Mists’ —which kept troops and transport largely out of sight from marauding aircraft. But in the days that followed there was no such heaven-sent cover; and since a marked absence of the RAF in Greece was often noted, with scathing appellations such as ‘Rare As Fairies’ and others more pungent, a word should be said about our air situation at that time. General Freyberg reports on it as follows:

When HQ first arrived at Dolikhe just south of Olympus, we saw British bomber formations with fighter escorts flying to the north-west and we heard reports of enemy tank columns being caught in defiles. These encouraging sights and items of news were, however, over in a few days. Our bombers at Larisa were destroyed on the ground together with some fighters in a raid by some fifty dive bombers. Our reserves were so small and our AA artillery was so inadequate that it was not possible to maintain squadrons at Larisa, where constant large fighter patrols would have been necessary. As it was, on the front and over the back areas huge formations of enemy bombers operated without interference. We heard reports from the south of heroic encounters between Hurricanes and enemy formations outnumbering them by four and five to one, but that could not last long. The RAF was swept from the skies as far as we were concerned.

Air Vice-Marshal D'Albiac, commanding the RAF in Greece, has written: ‘Expressed in terms of aircraft, my total serviceable strength in the country was some eighty aircraft, to which were opposed, according to all reports, approximately 800 German aircraft on the Eastern Front (Bulgaria and Roumania) and 160 Italian aircraft based in Albania plus 150 based in Italy but operating over Albania and Greece, mainly from advanced landing grounds in Albania.’ It had been hoped that more squadrons could be diverted to Greece from the Middle East; but on the contrary it became necessary to reinforce air strength there to prevent Rommel's thrust from developing into a serious threat to Egypt. Even those reinforcements were inadequate, since between 1 January and 31 March 1941 British aircraft losses in the Middle East totalled 184, replacements 166.

By 13 April all Petrol Company vehicles had returned to Company Headquarters at Sadovon, where they immediately packed up and left for a new camp area at Dhomenikon, farther down the Sadovon-Larisa road. Next day while carting ammunition from Tirnavos to No. 5 FSD, under attack from enemy aircraft, Driver Bennett

Dvr F. H. Bennett; born NZ 1 Jul 1911; bus driver; killed in action 14 Apr1941.

was killed.

Dvr Bennett was Petrol Company's first casualty from enemy action.

On the 15th all vehicles were standing by, awaiting instructions to commence one of the Company's most notable and meritorious jobs—the evacuation of 4 NZ Infantry Brigade from its outflanked positions at Servia Pass. This was part of yet another large-scale withdrawal—a general retreat, in fact—which was to take the whole British force back to a line across the narrow southern part of Greece in the Lamia-Molos-Thermopylae area.

At Sadovon the Company had been attached to Rear Headquarters of 6 Australian Division, with OG Petrol Company receiving his orders through that division's Brigadier Bird. For on 6 April New Zealanders and Australians had again combined to fight as an Army Corps, under command of the veteran Australian, Thomas Blamey. On 12 April this 1 Australian Corps was renamed, with a fitting exchange of compliments, 2 Anzac Corps.

Early in the morning of 17 April Major Dickson received a signal from Commander NZASC instructing that the Divisional Petrol Company, plus a section from Divisional Ammunition and a section from Divisional Supply, were to proceed that evening at 5.30 to an area near the Servia Pass, uplift 4 Brigade, and move it back to positions south of Lamia. While that was being done, Workshops and Company HQ were to proceed back along the Larisa-Volos-Lamia road to a new bivouac area ten miles outside Atalandi.

Major Dickson assumed command of the troop-carrying convoy, with instructions that the head of his column was not to pass the junction of the Servia-Olympus roads before 1 a.m. on 18 April. Captain McDonagh, in charge of Petrol Company details scheduled to move south, immediately volunteered to take Dickson's place and go forward with the northbound convoy, but that was refused. Quartermaster details with the Division's reserve clothing and blankets, which the Company was then carrying, were ordered to remain near the roadside and join the troop-carrying column when it returned from the north. As Petrol Company vehicles were moving out, Dickson had a call from OC 4 RMT Company (Major Woods

Maj B. A. N. Woods; Wellington; born NZ 2 Jul 1892; traveller; 1 NZEF (Auck Mtd Rifles and Anglo-Russian Armd Car Bde); OC ASC Comp Coy 7 Nov-1 Dec 1940; Base Sup Coy Dec 1940-Feb 1941; 4 RMT Coy Feb-Jun 1941.

) whose own trucks were then going forward to bring out 6 Brigade from its positions near Elasson.

Fortunately the weather was still misty and overcast, so there was little interference on the northward journey from

4 and 5 brigades withdraw to thermopylae, 17-19 april 1941black and white map of army movement enemy aircraft. Our Company made its rendezvous as scheduled, the OC and Captain Ramsden checking the first troop-laden vehicles past the Olympus-Servia road-junction ‘bang on’ the appointed time, 1 a.m. On the way back they picked up the QM details, as arranged, but left the reserve clothing. Dickson, however, was then faced with a dilemma: whether to take his column, as ordered, down the Larisa-Volos road to Molos—a secondary road in very poor condition—or whether to pursue the alternative main route, down the middle of the peninsula from Larisa through Pharsala to Lamia, and thence on to Molos.

This doubt arose from a despatch received earlier from Captain McDonagh, who had already taken his Workshops Section and other odds-and-ends along the Larisa-Volos road, and reported it to be impassable for the main column on account of thick mud and other obstacles. Dickson passed this information on to Colonel Gentry

Maj-Gen Sir William Gentry, KBE, CB, DSO and bar, m.i.d., MC (Gk), Bronze Star (US); Lower Hutt; born London, 20 Feb 1899; Regular soldier; served North-West Frontier 1920-22; GSO II NZ Div 1939-40; AA & QMG 1940-41; GSO I May 1941, Oct 1941-Sep 1942; comd 6 Bde Sep 1942-Apr 1943; Deputy Chief of General Staff 1943-44; comd NZ Troops in Egypt, 6 NZ Div, and NZ Maadi Camp, Aug 1944-Feb 1945; 9 Bde (Italy) 1945; Deputy Chief of General Staff, 1946-47; Adjutant-General, 1949-52; Chief of General Staff 1952-55.

at Divisional Headquarters and asked permission to move via the Larisa-Lamia route, undertaking to disperse all vehicles widely in the fields beside the road if the brigade column got held up, as expected, by traffic congestion south of Larisa.

In the meantime McDonagh's information about the state of the Volos road had been confirmed by a reconnaissance party from Divisional Headquarters, and orders were issued to change the routes, both of 4 Brigade and the 5th, which was now travelling ahead. Dickson does not seem to have received this order; but in any case he ‘took the right track’ and led his 4 Brigade convoy on through Larisa (which he entered at daybreak) and continued until halted, by a jam of traffic on the road, a few miles south of the town.

The 18th April dawned bright and clear, with no protecting mists—and enemy bombers were soon in sight. Dickson sent Don Rs along the halted column ordering it to disperse widely in the fields, where troops could debuss and go to ground, taking advantage of whatever natural cover there was. Dive-bombing and strafing commenced and continued throughout the morning. By 2.30 p.m. the column moved again. Bombing and strafing resumed during the afternoon, causing more halts; but the main convoy reached 4 Brigade Headquarters at Molos during the night, under command of Captain Hook. Dickson had gone back up the road with his own car and a Workshops truck to pick up about thirty stragglers from 4 Brigade, who, after an exhausting week, had fallen asleep in the fields and had been left there when the column moved on.

Official records describe this withdrawal of 4 Brigade, executed under the most nerve-racking conditions at a cost of only thirty casualties, in the following terms:

The move south proceeded smoothly until a few miles beyond Larisa, where not only was the single road jammed with Anzac Corps traffic of all descriptions, but the whole was held up by a Partially destroyed bridge near Pharsala. The day was clear and fine, and the enemy air force was out in strength, quite unopposed. It appeared that, on the plain, air attacks were confined to very low-level bombing attacks, and machine-gunning; the dive bombing was concentrated on the pass at Pharsala. Soon no vestige of discipline existed on the road. Vehicles of all sizes were struggling to get as far south as possible in the quickest time. No interval was kept between vehicles, which made it easier for the enemy to inflict damage from the air. At times there were as many as four vehicles abreast on the road, all trying to gain the lead. Each vehicle might stop as much as twenty times during the long afternoon while its passengers took cover on the roadside.

Nothing could have been worse for morale than this constant stopping of vehicles and scattering of troops. A look-out would drum vigorously on the roof of the cab; the driver would clamp on the brake there and then, regardless of the position of his vehicle on the road; all on board would scramble for cover. All traffic would be blocked until the last passenger came back to his transport. Perhaps a vehicle, or two together, would be set on fire by bomb splinters or machine-gun incendiary bullets. This would cause further delays, until the offending vehicle was shunted off the road.

Unfortunately orders to get off the roads and disperse were given by various authorities at various points, orders not uniformly carried out, with the result that unit convoys—already somewhat scattered through joining the main stream of traffic at irregular intervals—became inextricably mixed. The efforts of some drivers to ‘catch up’ with what they considered their proper place in the convoy added to the chaos. At one stage in the afternoon Lt-col Gray,

Brig J. R. Gray, ED, m.i.d.; born Wellington, 7 Aug 1900; barrister and solicitor; CO 18 Bn Sep 1939-Nov 1941; Mar-Jun 1942; comd 4 Bde 29 Jun-5 Jul 1942; killed in action 5 Jul 1942.

CO 18 Bn, went along a portion of the convoy and told all 18 Bn vehicles to keep moving despite the bombing—‘The men showed in their faces their relief and faith in this course, which in the circumstances should have been insisted on everywhere.’ But of course all commanders and drivers would not be of the same opinion, nor did the frequent blockages caused by craters and destroyed vehicles permit such a procedure.

In many of the accounts of this difficult day different people have laid the blame at different doors for the incredibly chaotic conditions. Some have blamed the Australians and the abandoned and unguarded beer canteen at Larisa. It does seem that the road discipline in Australian units was not particularly high at this stage, even taking into account the natural inclination of drivers consulted to point out faults in others that were overlooked in their own countrymen. Then again others have stated that the policy of stopping during an air attack was wrong—this is probably so, but it was inevitable. Another has taken the view, considering the amount of traffic on the road, the scale of the enemy air attacks, the complete lack of experience of the majority of all drivers of such conditions, that the move was a remarkably successful, and creditable, performance. This view appears to be realistic and final.

The Campaign In Greece, unpublished narrative, New Zealand War History Branch.

By comparison, the withdrawal of 5 Brigade was a very confused and frustrating affair. Attempts to turn the convoy eastward to a staging place at Almiros, near Volos, led to some amazing adventures, with a number of units quite befogged as to where they were expected to go. For example, D Company and most of C Company, 22 Battalion, had been turned off the road at Pharsala and diverted down a third-rate road that petered out in a mule-track to the north-west of Almiros. The Battalion Commander, Lieutenant-Colonel Andrew, VC,

Brig L. W. Andrew, VC, DSO, m.i.d.; Wellington; born Ashhurst, 23 Mar1897; Regular soldier; Wellington Regt, 1915-19; CO 22 Bn Jan 1940-Feb 1942; comd 5 Bde 27 Nov-6 Dec 1941; Area Commander, Wellington, 1943-46; Commander, Central Military District, 1948-52.

reached a point north of Almiros about 8 a.m. on 18 April with only two 3-ton vehicles following him. Other elements were diverted at Lamia, sent in the direction of Volos and then turned back, ending up near Molos, where the battalion eventually concentrated with the rest of 5 Brigade.

Sec W. G. McClymont, To Greece, for a full account of thewithdrawal to the Thermopylae line.

During the withdrawal Petrol Company lost ten vehicles destroyed by enemy action and sustained some casualties. Norman Chissell, a most promising young officer, and an original member of the Ammunition Company, was killed by bomb blast. Drivers Cant

Dvr I. E. Cant; born Wellington, 21 Oct 1917; bootmaker; killed in action18 Apr 1941.

and Corry,

Dvr E. L. Corry; born Hastings, 20 Aug 1916; taxi driver; died of wounds 14 May 1941.

both excellent fellows, also gave their lives. Driver H. W. Morgan was mortally wounded, while several others received wounds, the list including Second-Lieutenant F. Trewby, Sergeant L. A. Crawley, Drivers Asher,

S-Sgt L. Asher; born Wellington, 20 Sep 1906; motor driver; woundedApr 1941.

Cashmere,

Dvr W. Cashmere; Levin; born NZ 22 Sep 1909; barman; wounded Apr 1941.

and Rowe.

Dvr M. H. Rowe; New Plymouth; born NZ 27 May 1905; driver; wounded Apr 1941; p.w. 1 Jun 1941.

This operation also brought the Company another decoration: a Military Medal for Corporal K. A. Bailey. With seven trucks under his charge, Bailey was attached to Second-Lieutenant Fenton's

Maj J. D. Fenton, MBE, ED, m.i.d.; Wellington; born Waitara, 24 Jul 1912; foreman motor mechanic; wounded 2 Jun 1944; DADME, Central Military District, 1947-59.

Divisional Ammunition group, which brought out 20 Battalion from the vicinity of its rearguard positions two miles south of Servia. At Nikaia, six or seven miles past Larisa, the convoy was ordered to leave the road and disperse while sappers cleared the approach to a badly damaged bridge.

‘Harry Dunlop

Dvr H. Dunlop; born NZ 2 Oct 1907; motor driver; p.w. 1 Jun 1941; died Napier, 11 Feb 1955.

was my driver’, Ken Bailey recalls, ‘and after lunch he went off to have a sleep under a tree. Because of the need to be ready to move, I suggested that he stick close to the truck, but he preferred the tree. That probably saved his life, because about an hour later two Jerry planes skimmed over a rise and dropped their bombs from about a hundred feet up. The bombs fell on the ground and just lay there.

‘Reg Pollock

Dvr C. R. Pollock; Dunedin; born NZ 27 May 1915; bagmaker; wounded22 May 1941.

and I, who were filling our water bottles at the water truck, lost no time in diving under the vehicle. We lifted our heads to see what was going to happen. The bombs were lying on the ground in a line right through my trucks. Just then they exploded, and Harry's truck was riddled. Five out of the seven trucks went up, and there were many casualties among the poor infantry, who were sleeping in and under the vehicles.

‘Things were quite sticky for a while as Jerry kept coming back to strafe us. Reg Pollock ducked his head just in time to miss a piece of shrapnel which skimmed along his back and cut his web equipment in half. Harry Dunlop, owing to his liking for that tree, also lived on.’

Undeterred by the machine-gunning, Bailey, with several drivers, and Sergeant Buckleigh

Lt A. J. Buckleigh; Taupo; born NZ 11 Oct 1910; motor mechanic.

of the Ammunition Company, immediately began attending to the wounded, getting them into the shelter of a small hollow.

Concerning the withdrawal, Staff-Sergeant Rusden, comments:

S/Sgt Williams and I were the last to move on that trip, travelling on the breakdown truck. We had an interesting half-hour before we started, whispering in the darkness and cutting the harness off a couple of dozen donkeys which had been abandoned with their heavy panniers still on their backs. Were they pleased! The withdrawal was a fairly hazardous affair but in the main was carried out well. We holed up on a hillside near Atalandi and established the Company again as a going concern.

The idea then was to hold the enemy where outflanking would be more difficult on a Molos-Thermopylae-Brallos line, behind which Greek resistance could be reorganised. But it soon became evident that such resistance was out of the question. On 22 April the Greek Army surrendered. Wavell could do nothing more. The great Balkan gamble had not come off. The only alternative to losing the entire British force in Greece lay in evacuation.

This possibility had been allowed for, of course, from the start; and Admiral Cunningham has said that evacuation and its problems—which would fall to him—had never been far from his mind since the decision was reached to go to Greece. But with the enemy's overwhelming superiority in the air, and his land forces pressing strongly down the peninsula, the chances of a successful sea withdrawal looked far from bright.

Meanwhile, fighting on land continued. There was strong pressure by the triumphant Germans, bitter delaying actions by our rearguards. Sixth Brigade, plus all the New Zealand artillery, engaged the enemy at Molos; 4 Brigade delayed him at Kriekouki, south of Thebes, and again at Porto Rafti. But the big problem for Petrol Company after the withdrawal to the Thermopylae line was how and where to find petrol. According to Force Headquarters, dumps were being established at Kifissokhori, Levadhia, and on the coast road four miles north of Livanatais. But by 20 April no POL was available at any of the given dump locations, so Colonel Crump arranged for a general search.

From their much-bombed and machine-gunned camp near Atalandi, Petrol Company drivers shared in this search, splitting off into groups which ranged far afield. One detachment of six vehicles, with six from Supply Column, all under Second-Lieutenant Ward, reached the railway station at Levadhia in the early hours of 21 April. There they found a train, loaded partly with petrol and partly with ammunition, drawn up at a siding. Neatly stacked about 20 feet away were 2000 rounds of high-explosive shells and mines. And to this nice little target came the Luftwaffe while Ward and his party were busy loading.

Direct hits set the train on fire, exploding its 25- and 60- pounder shells. At the height of the inferno Driver Macdonald

Dvr J. G. Macdonald, MM; born Oamaru, 18 Jun 1909; clerk; killed in action 2 Jun 1941.

of Supply Column, and an Australian sergeant (H. Killalea), uncoupled the burning wagons, found a locomotive several hundred yards away (abandoned by its terrified Greek crew) and managed to get it coupled to a string of twenty-eight undamaged trucks containing petrol, oil, and ammunition. These they drove away to safety; then they came back to help the others, who, throughout the raid, which continued for an hour, calmly went on removing oil, shells and mines from the burning section of the train.

On one of these quests, Second-Lieutenant Collins of Petrol Company was driving along beside a canal when a Greek civilian came rushing up, waving his arms and shouting the only English word he knew: ‘Bastard! Bastard!’ It soon became clear he wasn't referring to Collins, but to someone under a large culvert spanning the canal.

Collins advanced cautiously, with pistol drawn. Huddled beneath the culvert he found two German airmen who had crashed their plane and baled out. One, a mere youngster, was plainly terrified; and not without reason, for as the Jerries were being taken away, Greek civilians swarmed around the Petrol Company truck, demanding that the prisoners be handed over so they could tear them to pieces. The hatred on the people's faces, Collins says, was frightening. He handed the airmen over to some redcaps at an Australian headquarters, where he first got news of the intended evacuation. One officer there, a trifle tiddly, was giving stuff away wholesale—including a bottle of whisky to Lieutenant Collins, with the parting remark: ‘Well cheerio, Major!’ He had evidently mistaken the New Zealander's lonely pip for a crown.

By 23 April sufficient POL had been found to enable the Division to move to embarkation beaches. On that day, twenty-eight Petrol Company vehicles loaded from a dump at Elatia and made deliveries to units in the line. They uplifted troops of 5 NZ Infantry Brigade and carried them direct to embarkation areas east of Athens. Captain McDonagh commanded the column, while Major Dickson took Company Headquarters and Workshops on ahead to Athens. Petrol Company vehicles not required for these moves were handed over to Major McGuire

Lt-Col W. A. T. McGuire, ED, m.i.d.; Wellington; born NZ 22 Dec 1905; police officer and motor engineer; OC Amm Coy Oct 1939-Oct 1941; OC NZ Base ASC 1941-44.

at a dispersal area near the coast road, for destruction along with other NZASC transport. All Company records, manuals, surplus clothing and so on were also burned. Each man retained only his rifle, steel helmet, greatcoat and pack, into which he crammed as much food and cigarettes—freely available from supply dumps now being demolished—as he could carry.

All this went on in an atmosphere of uncertainty and distrust, and a brooding sense of failure. What would tomorrow bring? Were the Greeks really our friends—already their armies in the west had surrendered—and were we not letting them down rather badly? There were rumours, too, of German parachute landings at Corinth; so perhaps escape was already cut off. Precise and reliable information, on almost any matter, just wasn't available.

Dickson took his convoy to a camp near an aerodrome outside Athens, where he ordered the destruction of Workshops vehicles. He then reported to Army Headquarters at the Hotel Acropole, in the city. There he was instructed, he says, to make a reconnaissance of the beach at Porto Rafti and report back. He did this, but he could get no information as to the embarkation point for 5 Brigade and the Petrol Company drivers with it, or where his own Headquarters and Workshops Sections would embark. Eventually he found out from Royal Navy Movement Control that Porto Rafti was the place.

Still in the forward area, Captain McDonagh had sixteen empty vehicles in hand, and he was ordered to take these to Levadhia and pick up more petrol. They found only 4000 gallons, which they loaded and delivered to forward units. Thirteen of the trucks were then destroyed, the other three carrying troops to Athens for embarkation. This, and a detail on the following day (25 April), when six trucks picked up petrol at Athens and delivered it to dumps on the roadside, were Petrol Company's last operations as an ASC unit in Greece; the last anywhere, in fact, for some considerable time. Staff-Sergeant Rusden wrote:

The last night as a complete Unit was spent by Capt McDonagh, Cpl Rimmer,

Capt A. T. Rimmer; Lower Hutt; born NZ 1 Apr 1915; clerk.

Dvr Walsh

Sgt J. Walsh; Petone; born NZ 21 Apr 1910; barman; wounded and p.w. Jun 1941.

and myself in a little hut, discussing our moves for the next few days. Next day we moved off to obtain petrol from a dump a long way south. When found, there was not as much as we thought, so Capt McDonagh ordered me to take up what was there and said he would locate more even if he had to go to Athens for it.

As everything was in a terrific hurry I didn't have time to get my clothing from his car, and set off with just trousers and shirt, a.45 and some tobacco. All my personal possessions were in his car and I never saw them again. Capt McDonagh was sidetracked further south and eventually went to Crete where he was killed. We went back up near the line and I took over a Supply Dump from Capt Davis

Maj E. P. Davis; Nelson; born NZ 4 May 1904; salesman; actg OC Sup Coln Sep-Nov 1940; p.w. 1 Jun 1941.

of the Supply Coln, and we used this as a Petrol Refilling Point. The whole of the Div, or what remained of it, was serviced; and we were visited by Col Crump, who told us that we would be on our own from then on.

The Dump was laden with supplies—some kinds never seen by the troops—so we destroyed all we could. During the night some of

CRETEcolour map of Crete us stood by the roadside in the darkness and when the retreating troops rumbled by we threw various tins of fruit and cartons of tobacco onto the backs of the trucks. Some of the comments were ‘out of this world’; but generally, after the chaps had identified the contents of the parcels, a wide variety of ‘thanks very much’ would float back through the night. I like to think we did a good job that night, and that the foodstuffs etc were not wasted, but have never come across anyone who was in those trucks.

Later on, the trek to the beaches began. I didn't know where to go, but had a message from HQ telling us to make for a certain beach. We were only 15 strong by then, so destroyed surplus vehicles and away. What a trip! Reached Athens early in the morning and was accosted by some pip-squeak who said he was from Army HQ. He was very rude to me, so I threatened to shoot him. He then invited me to accompany him to HQ, which I accepted; but he bolted through the door there like a rabbit, and instructed troops on guard to forbid me entrance. When I told my story to the guards they said ‘O.K., Kiwi. Go on in and shoot the bastard if you want to.’

Eventually found the beach—forget the name of it—and more troubles began. No-one would take any notice of my small group, and we were given the brush-off repeatedly. However, I found an officer's coat and Sam Browne on the beach and put them on. Didn't at any time say I was an officer, but found the coat and accessories very useful. The bloke I was talking to couldn't see under the coat and maybe thought I outranked him, so we 15 were embarked in due course. Waded through the surf to ships' boats, and thence to a destroyer. Boy—were they good to us on that ship!!!

Unfortunately, later in the night we hove to alongside a tramp- shiptrampship and were ordered to change over. Nets and things helped the change. After half the destroyer's passengers had made the change, weather and other conditions caused the Captain to stop any further hanging about, so the Tramp made off to Egypt, and the Destroyer went to Crete. In the morning I found my complement was down to seven. The other eight were on the Destroyer still. The trip back was not so good; but Alexandria looked fine when we arrived.

We seven were unitless, and later found we were posted missing, since the whole company except us were stationed in Crete, and later had a very rough time when the dirty business started. We enjoyed ourselves for a day or two, keeping out of the way. But one day I was spotted by Col Crump in the NAAFI. He was very interested in our doings since we had seen him last, and then instructed me to ‘get my Headquarters going again’ and report to him in the morning. What a business! I took Richards

Dvr F. F. Richards; born New Plymouth, 21 Jul 1907; labourer.

with me when we went to see the Chief. He had nothing—not even a pencil— but there was a tent.

I did my best, and eventually NZASG HQ (Egypt) began to function again. Col Crump's chief concern was his Units in Crete; and I have seldom seen a man so distressed as when the casualties began to come in. Eventually the Petrol Company came back— 60 strong from an original 301…. and the remnants were awful glad to be back in filthy Egypt.

By nightfall on 25 April, Major Dickson had got his Workshops, Headquarters and G Sections together at Daphne 2, an Australian camp about ten miles from Marathon, close to the embarkation beaches. He then set off at 11.30 p.m. to locate and bring in A and B Sections, which were still with 5 Brigade after bringing it down from Molos. By 2 a.m. on 26 April most of the Company had safely embarked on HM Transport Glengyle—though Major Dickson was noticed by ‘Skin’ Thompson

Dvr E. B. Thompson, MM, m.i.d., Johnsonville; born Wellington, 17 Jan1910; labourer; wounded 25 May 1941; p.w. 27 May 1941.

about that time ‘still worrying like Hell over a group of chaps [presumably Rusden's detachment] who had not shown up’.

Bill Ambrose's story of the evacuation is a typical one:

I had had visions of having to wade or even swim. After reading the story of Dunkirk some sort of discomfort seemed to be inevitable, but when my turn came I just walked onto a barge without even seeing the water. It was all so easy. At the ship's side we encountered our only bit of trouble. Had to climb up the side. In the dark it seemed a long way but it proved easy enough.

The trip to Crete was made without incident—almost. The ship was attacked once but not hit, and the plane went into the sea. Arrived in Suda Bay late afternoon, 26th April.

CHAPTER 8 Crete

The bulk of Petrol Company reached Crete on 26 April, minus trucks and other equipment. Seven other ranks found their way back to Egypt; two small detachments, away petrol-hunting when the main exodus began, turned up on Crete two days later, in HMS Kingston and HMAS Perth. For Petrol Company the passage was swift and uneventful. The whole evacuation provided a classic example of the skill, daring and endurance of the Royal Navy. Winston Churchill writes:

The organised withdrawal of over fifty thousand men from Greece under the conditions prevailing might well have seemed an almost hopeless task…. At Dunkirk on the whole we had air mastery. In Greece the Germans were in complete and undisputed control of the air and could maintain an almost continuous attack on the ports and on the retreating Army.

The Second World War, Vol. III, pp. 179–80.

That so many got safely away is also due largely to successful delaying tactics by the New Zealand Division, which fought stern rearguard actions throughout the long retreat.

Churchill again pays graceful tribute:

Everyone in Britain has watched with gratitude and admiration the grand fighting deeds of the New Zealand Division upon the ever-famous battlefields of Greece. It is only gradually that we have learned and are learning the full tale, and the more the accounts come in the more we realise the vital part you played in a task of honour and a deed of fame. Throughout the whole Empire and the English-speaking world the name of New Zealand is saluted.

Ibid, p. 217.

Petrol Company's share in that ‘task of honour and deed of fame’ has already been described–the weeks of hazardous driving by day and by night to bring out men and materials; the control and delivery of POL when supplies were plentiful; the unremitting search over wide areas when supply lines had failed and the Division, hard-pressed, was ‘scratching’ for petrol. And now, deprived of their trucks, with no bayonets, no entrenching tools, few automatic weapons, and hardly enough rifles to go round, Petrol Company were scheduled to play an unrehearsed part in yet another deed of fame—the defence, as infantrymen, of the island of Crete.

From the defence angle, that island was woeful. It faced the wrong way round. Its one main road ran east-west roughly parallel to the northern coastline, a length of about 160 miles. Along it were strung the vital airfields of Maleme, Retimo and Heraklion, the main port at Suda, and the chief town, Canea. All were wide open to air and sea attack from the large German forces now massing in southern Greece, while the eastern end lay within easy striking distance of Italian bases in the Dodecanese Islands. Supplies and reinforcements had to run the gauntlet and land in the north, since the southern coast lacked harbours. Inland the island was mountainous, with steep gorges and serrated ranges rising to 6000 feet, making communications, other than by the coast road, extremely difficult.

Obviously, the key-points in any pattern of defence would be the three airfields plus the Suda-Canea area. Each had to be self-contained and self-supporting. With the shortage of transport and connecting routes there was no way of moving central reserves to a threatened point once the main road was cut and held by the enemy. Such was the situation which faced General Freyberg when, on 30 April, he was charged with the task of defending Crete. His Creforce, as it was called, consisted of 42,500 British, Greek and Imperial troops, plus from 4000 to 5000 unarmed Cypriots and Palestinians. For good measure there were many unarmed stragglers from Greece, 15,000 Italian prisoners, and the King of the Hellenes. An additional headache was a civilian population of 400,000 who, because of the blockade, now had great difficulty in providing their own sustenance.

But with Petrol Company, spilling out in the sunshine on to Suda's single wharf, such questions of broad strategy weighed little. For them this sunny island, with its blue skies, snowy mountains, green fields and pleasant olive groves meant rest, and a haven from the hammering Luftwaffe and the pursuing Wehrmacht. True, an air-raid warning greeted their arrival; but nothing came of it, so they piled in happily with the stream of assorted soldiery—men from a dozen different countries wearing the motley remnants of a score of different uniforms— straggling through the dusty streets of Suda. Beyond the town were pleasant roadside cafés, and white cottages with gardens and smiling villagers who plied the troops with wine and oranges. Here all was peace and friendship—or so it seemed.

Their first staging place was an assembly point two or three miles from Suda. There the troops queued up for a scanty handout of bread and cheese, one tin of bully to every three men, and unlimited quantities of army biscuit. They ate with their fingers, then scavenged for empty tins to hold their issue of tea. Here the sick and wounded were sorted out for evacuation. The remainder marched westward to a transit ‘camp’ lacking tents, blankets, bedding; it had no buildings, no cooking facilities, no tools to dig latrines or bury refuse. The men were allocated in groups to mighty olive trees, each bearing a number, beneath whose gnarled trunks they sank down to sleep, or to watch the friendly stars as they twinkled through the branches. On this first trek, Padre Hiddlestone

Rev. J. Hiddlestone, MBE, ED; born Christchurch, 19 Mar 1893; Baptist minister; p.w. May 1941; deceased.

had managed to hire himself a fiacre—Cretan version of the Egyptian gharry—and so he proceeded with dignity and ease.

In the general ‘shemozzle’ of the evacuation 6 NZ Infantry Brigade had been directed back to Egypt without the knowledge of our GOC—a serious loss, and one deeply felt when the fighting developed. Thus New Zealand troops on Crete consisted of two battered infantry brigades; several hundred artillery- menartillerymen without guns (they eventually acquired some); 1100 ASC personnel without trucks; seven officers and 180 other ranks of Divisional Signals; some personnel of Divisional Cavalry and 27 MG Battalion; three companies of engineers; medical details, and an assorted group of specialists, most of whom were evacuated, along with about fifty New Zealand nursing sisters, early in the piece. As OC troops for one group of evacuees went Major Dickson, the command of Petrol Company then passing to Captain McDonagh. Dickson recalls that one of the first men he met on returning to Egypt was the Company's keenest gambler, who generously offered the major a partnership in his flourishing crown-and-anchor business.

Petrol Company's next move was to Ay Marina, farther along the road towards Maleme. Shuffling alongside our own marching cohorts went two shaggy Tommies, one bearing a Lewis gun, the other a field telephone. They were quickly pounced on by a pukka British officer from the original Crete garrison, who made unfriendly comment: ‘Soldier! You haven't shaved or washed today!’ Whereupon some of Petrol Company, themselves for the most part unshaven and unkempt, chanted in unison: ‘You dirty-looking B—s! You dirty-looking B—s!’

At Ay Marina, on 28 April, Petrol Company was decanted and rebottled as part of an infantry battalion made up of the 1100 NZASC men. This formation—a short-lived one—had Major McGuire as OC and Captain Hood

Maj A. G. Hood, ED; Auckland; born Auckland, 29 May 1912; company manager; OC 6 RMT Coy Oct 1941-Feb 1942; Assistant Director Supply and Transport, Army HQ (in NZ) 1942–46.

as Adjutant. Its members had been issued two days earlier with rations, blankets, and ammunition. They were now allotted a sector to defend against possible invasion by paratroops. But business in that line was slack at the time; and even among the officers few really thought it a serious possibility. Our drivers stood-to at dusk and at dawn; they mounted guard, went out on patrol. They took a fresh interest in oil-bottle and pull-through, kept their barrels shiny, their bolts as laid down in the Little Red Book—‘clean, bright and slightly oiled’. Some, at times, got slightly oiled themselves (the wine of the country proving a suitable lubricant) during visits to Canea or the local hostelries. Some played poker for imaginary piastres. Others found time to write letters home.

April 28:

A few lines to let you know I am still well and have weathered the storm so far. I expect you have heard Haw-Haw say where we are.

Had to go out on a ration party last night; arrived back in camp at 2 a.m., after scrambling over the hills for four hours with a kerosene tin full of rations in either hand, rifle over your back, tin-hat sometimes on your head, but mostly rolling down the slopes and you after it.

We are now in an olive-grove. A local has just come along with a jar of red wine, probably grape. It is a bit tart, but there is no charge—just help yourself—so what more could anyone ask?

The nicest thing about this little place is the oranges. They are the thick-skinned type and are delicious. You can buy them at two for five drachmas (2½d) and sometimes cheaper. I have a dozen right here, and have had several since lunch.

May 2:

We are still on the move–three shifts yesterday—and have been here a week and never slept in the same spot twice. Pack up and away at ten minutes' notice–not that we have much to pack: overcoat, groundsheet, one blanket. Some have a change of clothing, but most not. I have, as I brought more away with me than most. It has been a bit of a load, but I did not like dumping it. I still have H—'s scarf, B—'s balaclava, and Mrs S—'s mittens. They take up room, and have hardly been worn, but I hated parting with them. Also, a little something for you and R— that I have carried since Egypt and never had a chance of posting as there has been no parcel mail sent out. But I am hoping to get them away soon now.

We are now camped in an olive-grove, the trees larger than usual, about the size of a big apple-tree, and planted in rows, about 10 yards either way. Underneath are grape plants, also in rows, 4 ft either way and about 10 ft from the base of the tree. The grapes are only about 3 ft high, the old plants 18 inches, and the new shoots up to 2 feet. They are cut back each year as soon as they have finished bearing. They are now all loaded with small clumps of fruit, and the locals are taking the tips out of the shoots. This is a very fertile place in the valleys between the hills and ranges, which are stony, and practically bare.

There is a huge well about 3 chains away—our only water. It is about 20 ft across and has an endless chain and small buckets, like the old dredge at New Plymouth. The water is very cool and rather nice.

May 11:

We have had no mail yet, and no news. It is like being in a lost world here…. Eggs have been scarce lately; an old lady was demonstrating to us how they have to wait for the hens to lay. It was too funny! (Later)… our mail has arrived at last. I got 15 letters and 3 cables…. We had a wet night the one before last; it rained nearly all night and we were pretty well soaked. All you could do was curl up in your groundsheet and wait for the dawn. It broke fine, and at 7 a.m. the sun came out, so all turned out all right….

There was a lot of activity here last night—he was over nearly all night and dropped a lot of bombs, out at the harbour, I should think. The AA guns gave him a pretty hot reception and the searchlights were going. It was like a huge Guy Fawkes.

The defence sector allocated to the New Zealand Division (now under command of Brigadier Puttick) extended westward from Canea to the Maleme airfield, a distance of ten miles. In depth this sector varied from a mile and a half to three miles, the space restricted by a valley to the rear which ran south-west from Canea and passed behind the village of Galatas. Fifth Brigade under Brigadier Hargest undertook the defence of the Maleme territory while the sector's second fortress area, centred on Galatas, became the responsibility of a new formation—10 Infantry Brigade under Colonel Kippenberger— which included Divisional Petrol Company. Fourth Brigade filled the role of Creforce Reserve.

On 29 April, the day after its formation, NZASC Battalion had been disbanded and Petrol Company, now under command of Captain McDonagh, became attached for a time to 5 Brigade. By 4 May the NZASC was incorporated in yet another outfit known as Oakes Force. By 15 May Petrol Company was again shuffled and re-dealt (for the last time) as part of 10 Brigade's Composite Battalion, commanded by Major Lewis.

Maj H. M. Lewis; London; born Wanganui, 27 Dec 1908; company secretary.

The battalion also included groups from RMT, Supply Column, and 4 and 5 Field Regiments. Other units of 10 Brigade were 20 Battalion (operationally under control of the New Zealand Division, since it formed the Divisional Reserve), 6 and 8 Greek Regiments, and a New Zealand Divisional Cavalry detachment of three squadrons, used as infantry.

Tenth Brigade's task was to garrison the defences built on high ground in the Galatas area and to guard the approach to Canea from the west. It had the further responsibility of destroying any hostile troops which might land in the valley behind the Divisional sector. Tenth Brigade's right flank pivoted on the sea coast about a mile and a half west of 7 General Hospital, 1800 yards north of Galatas. From there the line swung south-west along Ruin Ridge through vineyards for a distance of about 2000 yards to Wheat Hill, a high feature which dominated the whole line about 1000 yards west of Galatas. Thence the defences continued south-east to Pink Hill, immediately south of the village.

Petrol Company occupied positions strung around the base of Pink Hill, in what Kippenberger has described as ‘the most

composite battalion, galatas, 20 may 1941black and white map of army movement dangerous portion’ of this southern end. B Section's front faced south to a prison in the valley, across five or six hundred yards of flat ground planted with olive trees. On its left was a roads running from Galatas to the Suda-Alikianou road, making a junction close to the prison. Across this Prison-Galatas road, farther left, was Cemetery Hill, later occupied by Divisional Cavalry. Next to the B Section positions were those of C, D, A and HQ Sections in that order, making an arc which faced for the most part west and south-west, with its right extremity near the gully between Pink Hill and Wheat Hill.

The danger to these southern positions lay in the amount of level country, with plenty of good cover, which the Prison Valley afforded for the landing of German parachutists and other airborne troops. The valley was a ‘natural’ for the concentration of enemy forces intent on cutting off our troops in the Maleme area. That could be done by a strong thrust northward to the coast—a distance of only a mile or two— through Galatas. The valley could also be used by enemy troops for a direct attack on the Canea-Suda sector. In either case the Divisional Petrol positions would lie directly in the Germans' path and would need to be eliminated.

On B Section's front, less than half a mile away, was the prison itself. Its commanding position and square solid walls, impregnable to our own light arms, provided a ready-made bastion which should have been denied to the enemy. Yet no attempt was made to occupy it, probably through deference to the civilian authorities—a squeamishness not shared by the prison's commandant, who proved to be pro-German.

Two miles down the valley, near its western end (and theoretically ‘commanding’ it) were the Divisional Cavalry, now on foot of course, and 8 Greek Regiment, holding isolated positions which would certainly be overwhelmed by any large-scale landing. Divisional Cavalry had orders to withdraw through Galatas if they could not hold out. The Greeks, numbering 900, were a ‘scratch’ formation of very recent vintage, armed with ancient Steyer rifles from which they had fired only ten rounds apiece by way of musketry training. The Greek CO was ineffective and a New Zealander, Major Cliff Wilson,

Maj C. Wilson, m.i.d., MC (Gk); born England, 25 Aug 1907; insurance clerk; killed in action 21 May 1941.

was their actual commander. Sixth Greek Regiment, 1400 strong but with only four weeks' service, occupied positions on high country south-east of Galatas. They were commanded by Colonel Gregarios, a staunch and loyal soldier; but none had yet fired a single round from his rifle. Each man carried only three rounds, and ammunition sent up to them the night before the attack remained for some reason undistributed.

In addition to these local considerations, the southern sector shared in the general defence weaknesses—lack of air support, no transport, poor communications, no heavy armament, and insufficient fighting men to defend strategic points. Nevertheless, Petrol Company made the best of the terrain allotted them. They occupied trenches—much too wide, as it turned out, when the mortars began lobbing, and only waist deep— previously dug by I Welch Regiment. With the help of our sappers (who taught Petrol Company how to make grenades out of empty milk-tins) they erected barbed wire in front of their positions. To block the important Galatas road, which ran alongside B Section's cookhouse and marked the flank of the Company's main positions, they had dragged up three big pine trees, felled in the face of voluble protests from their Cretan owner.

Living conditions in this sector were strange and primitive. Food was cooked in cut-down petrol tins, over open fires for which the men gathered logs from the fields, or tore off branches from nearby olive trees. Rations consisted of the inevitable bully, with sometimes a sparse issue of tinned carrots and potatoes, and very occasionally a tin of fruit. Fresh oranges were available, and sometimes eggs, though these were more often privately acquired by men who were willing to barter their small issue of cigarettes—woodbines at that time. There were daily patrols through the olive groves and the much-trampled fields of young wheat and barley. The crops provided bedding of a sort for an alfresco existence made tolerable only by the mildness of the climate and the season of the year—late spring. Still, the nights were very cold, and downpours of rain often added to the general discomfort. Some men built themselves crude huts, Robinson Crusoe style, from twigs and branches.

While our troops were thus adapting themselves in one sector or another on Crete, the Hun had not been idle. He built new airfields in Greece and on the island of Melos. From these he launched attacks on Maleme and Heraklion, and on Allied ships carrying stores and reinforcements from Egypt. As in Greece, his numerical superiority enabled him quickly to knock out the RAF, and by 18 May our operational aircraft on the island had been reduced to four Hurricanes and three Gladiators. And since there was no hope of reinforcing them, these were flown back to Egypt next day. Allied shipping took a severe pounding, and by 19 May there were thirteen vessels lying sunk or damaged in Suda Bay. Under such conditions supplies of local labour for unloading cargoes soon faded out, so the New Zealanders formed their own dock parties and carried on.

Most ominous, however, for the defenders of Crete was the steady build-up in southern Greece of German airborne troops. Our Intelligence estimated these to number between 5000 and 6000, in addition to equally formidable forces preparing to invade by sea. The scale of air support for the expected invasion—thought to be due on 16 May—was reckoned at about 315 heavy bombers, 60 twin-engined fighters, 240 dive-bombers and 270 single-engined fighters. As it happened, the enemy assault did not develop, as expected, on 16 May, Jerry continuing to hold his hand and contenting himself with a solid air pounding of Suda on 19 May and a savage blitz against the defences of Maleme and Heraklion. On Tuesday, 20 May, the show really opened, shortly after sunrise on a bright, cloudless day. And from that time the ‘all clear’ was not heard again on Crete.

The attack found Petrol Company well prepared. Battle positions had been carefully sited, the procedure for manning them rehearsed. As the first enemy aircraft zoomed overhead, shedding parachutists and towing troop-laden gliders, men from the five sections moved to their defence posts without confusion or delay. Driver Johnson,

Dvr R. H. Johnson; Gisborne; born South Africa, 13 Jan 1917; labourer.

of B Section, writes:

At the time of the invasion (approx 0800 hrs on 20th May) I was having a wash. My first thought on seeing a bomber coming over, towing seven gliders, was that the invasion had started in earnest. I went to my fire-position which was a two-man slit trench.

Then the troop-carrying planes came up the valley from the south and started dropping paratroops. As the range was roughly twelve hundred yards it was useless firing on them so we just sat tight and watched proceedings.

About a half-hour after dropping the first paratroopers the enemy had a mortar firing on our positions. I noticed a German on the top of Cemetery Hill and as he was making signals by Very pistol I surmised that he was a spotter for their mortars.

I tried a shot at him but had to fire four shots in all to get the range (700 yds). On the fifth shot I skittled him. He was replaced immediately by another. I got three spotters in all, then the spotters got a bit shrewd and either took cover or shifted post, as I did not see any more.

Driver Bryant,

Dvr N. C. Bryant; Stratford; born NZ 4 Apr 1918; truck driver.

on cookhouse fatigue after breakfast, first noticed a bomber flying very low. He says:

Then the troop-carriers came, towing gliders that were uncoupled overhead. He next strafed all around our area, for about ten minutes to half an hour. I made for my action post, which was the last of B Section as it joined onto C Section area.

I stayed there picking them off as they advanced towards the barbed wire. Then I noticed four Jerries pulling at a white parachute; they were putting in a machine-gun. I opened fire, and got a lovely reply.

A sniper opened up, then a mortar. They were dropping all around my position. They finally got the machine-gun going and concentrated on me. Lieut McPhail was coming along in front of me when the sniper got him in the leg. About 20 minutes after that a mortar blew me out of my trench.

While this was going on in B Section's area, a machine-gun outpost under Corporal Trevelyan, forward of the wire about midway between the prison and the village of Galatas, came in for a hot time. This detachment comprised Drivers Baldwin,

Cpl G. E. Baldwin; Auckland; born NZ 10 Aug 1917; nurseryman.

J. S. Plumtree,

Sgt J. S. Plumtree; New Plymouth; born NZ 8 Nov 1916; garage attendant.

Holland,

Dvr W. H. Holland; Feilding; born Martinborough, 5 Dec 1913; grocer; wounded 20 May 1941; p.w. 26 May 1941.

Lawton,

Cpl L. H. Lawton; Tawa, Wellington; born Foxton, 19 Apr 1914; painter; p.w. 1 Jun 1941.

Eckersley,

Dvr H. Eckersley, MM, m.i.d.; Belmont, Lower Hutt; born England, 30 Jan 1911; motor assembler; p.w. 1 Jun 1941.

Peel- Walker,

Cpl D. T. Peel-Walker, MM; Melbourne; born NZ 25 Nov 1911; driver.

C. Neilson

Dvr C. J. Neilson; Rotorua; born NZ 6 May 1915; labourer.

and Piper.

Dvr J. D. Piper; born NZ 17 Jul 1917; Public Works Dept employee; killed in action 20 May 1941.

Their report follows:

At approximately 0800 hrs on the 20th May, 1941, a party of nine of us were holding an anti-tank rifle and bren-gun position some 300 yds back from the jail in front of the Greek lines when we were forced to take cover on account of large numbers of enemy aircraft which were concentrating on the area surrounding the jail. They were flying very low and machine-gunning the area.

Following closely were gliders and numerous troop-carrying planes from which parachute troops descended in large numbers and we most certainly accounted for many with our rifles. They landed on three sides of our position and within fifteen minutes were throwing hand grenades at our slit trench. We soon realised that it was useless to remain in this position and decided to retire to our own unit some 300 yds to the rear.

If it had not been for the covering fire of Dvr Eckersley's bren-gun I am afraid very few if any of us would have come out alive. After reporting to Sgt Hopley we took up positions with our own B Section.

At the first opportunity we checked up on our party and found that Dvr D. Piper was missing and we fear that he was killed during our retirement as he has not been seen since. Another member, Dvr W. Holland, was severely wounded on arrival back at B Section area.

For approximately six hours the hill was subject to heavy mortar and machine-gun fire, during which time many casualties

Dates of casualties mentioned in these eye-witness accounts do not always agree with the official casualty lists. See also Roll of Honour.

were inflicted on our section. Among these were, Killed: Capt McDonagh, Sgt Hopley, Dvrs E. T. H. Toner, G. Parnell, E. Isherwood; Wounded: Lieut McPhail, 2/Lieut Jackson, Sgt McNae, L/Cpl R. Orr, Dvrs W. Dunn, W. Smithson, B. Standen.

At approximately 1600 hrs we received the order from CSM James to retire to C Section area as our own area was considered untenable. We retired under heavy machine-gun and mortar fire carrying our wounded with us down to the RAP.

Corporal Trevelyan's group had come under fire from HQ and 9 Company of III Battalion, 3 Parachute Regiment, led by the battalion's CO, Major Heilmann. German records reveal that this group had landed by mistake south-east of Galatas instead of east of it; and only by determined action in which their grenades and machine pistols came into use were they able to dislodge the Petrol Company detachment and gain a footing on Cemetery Hill. The regiment's commander, Colonel Heidrich, had himself landed with a signals group near the prison about 9 a.m., and from there he directed the attack on Petrol Company's Pink Hill positions, sending in 5 and 12 Companies and probably part of 9 Company.

A German CSM wrote of this attack:

In the afternoon between 1400 and 1500 hours we advanced to attack the hill of Galatos (Pink Hill). We proceeded, without opposition, about halfway up the hill. Suddenly we ran into heavy and very accurate rifle and machine-gun fire. The enemy had held their fire with great discipline and had allowed us to approach well within effective range before opening up. Our casualties were extremely heavy and we were forced to retire leaving many dead behind us…. This first attack on Galatos had cost us approximately 50 per cent casualties, about half of whom were killed.

Events in C Section on this first day of the attack followed much the same pattern as in B Section. Parachutists concentrating in the area during the morning's ‘first flurry’ were met by a disciplined and devastating fire which forced them to withdraw, leaving many dead. In this encounter Driver Stanger,

Dvr B. U. Stanger; Oamaru; born Auckland, 12 Dec 1913; farm labourer.

on the Bren gun, did notable work, followed by similar execution, later on, with a Spandau that he brought in after a lone-wolf prowl by night. As the morning advanced a heavy mortar got C Section's range, causing many casualties. Sergeant Taaffe was wounded, and the two corporals, N. M. Stewart

Sgt N. M. Stewart, MM, EM and clasp; Te Puke; born Christchurch,21 Dec 1914; motor driver; p.w. 1 Jun 1941.

and J. K. Bailic,

Cpl J. K. Bailie; Sydney; born Gisborne, 5 Sep 1905; diesel engineer; wounded May 1941.

took over, handling the section very ably.

Casualties, mainly from mortar fire from Cemetery Hill (where the Germans had succeeded in dislodging the Greeks and establishing themselves) and from rifles and machine guns in the prison area, were growing now in B Section. Captain McDonagh, directing operations there, was mortally wounded. This was a severe loss. A fearless and inspiring commander, McDonagh had been moving among his sections, cheering the men with such pleasantries as ‘The duck season's opened a bit late boys, but there's good shooting now’, and taking photographs of the descending parachutists. Lieutenant Macphail took over, but he too was soon badly wounded. Second-Lieutenant Jackson then assumed command, until he in his turn was hit, first in the hand, then in the head. Driver R. H. Johnson supplies the following account:

B Section were entrenched on the right of Galatos facing the prison when the invasion commenced. At approximately 1200 hrs on the 20th of May 2/Lieut Jackson was making his way back to the R.A.P. with a shattered wrist. As he passed my trench which was in an exposed position he fell, and as he fell, a German sniper, who had been causing considerable damage, opened fire on him; although the bullets did not make a direct hit, being of an explosive nature, the shrapnel from same hit Mr Jackson about the right eye and temple. I managed to drag the Lieut to the comparative safety of my trench, where I bandaged his wounds and applied a tourniquet. I was not able to get Mr Jackson back to the R.A.P. for some time as the enemy sniper wasn't a new chum with a rifle, and any movement on my part was greeted with a stream of exploding bullets. At approximately 1530 hrs, with the aid of Dvr Gradon,

Dvr J. R. Gradon; born England, 31 Dec 1914; labourer; p.w. 1 Jun 1941.

Dvr Kinnuman

Sgt J. A. Kinnuman; Linton Camp; born London, 28 Feb 1916; labourer; p.w. 1 Jun 1941; now Regular Force, RNZASC.

and Dvr Hatchard we were able to get Mr Jackson out of my trench and on the way back to the R.A.P. I kept up a rapid fire on where I had reason to believe the sniper was, and managed to draw his fire till they were out of his range.

Previous to this at about 1400 hrs we had been told to retire to C Section's lines.

Shortly the enemy fire slackened off enough to warrant a dash for it. Dvr Gradon and myself dashed up the hill behind our position on the top of the hill. Amongst some cactus plants we found four of our section wounded. Dvr Gradon and I managed to assist one man over the hill to safety and told the others we would send help. We got to a dressing station where I inquired after Mr Jackson and his assistants, to be told that they had not yet arrived. I retraced our tracks till I found them and we brought Mr Jackson to the dressing station, where we acquired a stretcher and conveyed him to the R.A.P.

From the R.A.P. I went to the 7th General Hospital as Rifleman on the truck taking the wounded. At the hospital I assisted in the amputation of Mr Jackson's hand. The amputation was done by Major Christie.

Col H. K. Christie, CBE, ED; Wanganui; born Invercargill, 13 Jul 1894; surgeon; surgeon I Gen Hosp Mar 1940-Apr 1941; OC surgical team, Greece and Crete; in charge surgical division I Gen Hosp, Aug 1941-Jun 1943; CO 2 Gen Hosp Jun 1943-Oct 1944.

I helped with the patients all the next day as the hospital orderlies had been taken prisoner by the enemy.

I then tried to rejoin my unit but was unable to do so on account of enemy action, so was told by an officer of the 18th Rifle Batt that I might stay with them until they shifted up to the front, which they did that night.

Petrol Company was now without officers in the Galatas sector,

Maj Dickson and Capt Ramsden had returned to Egypt soon after the Greek campaign. 2 Lt Trewby became a casualty while in Canea and he, too, was evacuated. On 14 May 2 Lt Collins, with Sgt Greig, Cpl K. A. Bailey and 28 men, had been posted to Canea for picket duty.

so CSM James took control of the Company and directed operations with outstanding ability. His right-hand man was Sergeant Hopley of B Section, whose conduct, until he too was killed, has been described as ‘particularly cool and daring’. When B Section's machine-gun detachment was surrounded by paratroopers early on 20 May, Hopley had asked permission to go to their aid, but was refused. Again, when it was found that in the excitement of the first German landings, the road block near the cookhouse had not been placed in position, Second-Lieutenant Macphail and Sergeant Hopley rectified this, despite the attentions of low-flying and machine-gunning aircraft.

While B and C Sections were taking the brunt of the enemy's first onslaught, D Section (Workshops) on the other flank had a fairly quiet morning. Under Sergeant-Major C. Chetwin, Staff-Sergeant Williams and Sergeants Stephens

Sgt G. C. Stephens; Blenheim; born NZ 6 Feb 1919; cook; p.w. 1 Jun 1941.

and Church,

Sgt I. W. Church; born Invercargill, 17 Oct 1906; motor mechanic; p.w. 1 Jun 1941.

they held prepared positions at the base of Wheat Hill, overlooking the prison. To their front was a wood, with barbed wire strung across the tree trunks. Driver Watkins

Dvr E. C. Watkins; born London, 9 Oct 1910; tram conductor.

recalls that on the morning of 20 May stand-to was concluded in the usual manner on a perfectly fine day with very little wind. After breakfast enemy air activity became very pronounced, but no paratroops landed within range. Minor shooting exchanges occurred between D Section and scattered parties of Germans, who apparently retired on finding the position wired and well defended. Watkins continues:

There occurred no further enemy aggression until 1515 hrs, when under cover of a mortar barrage on this sector, the enemy advanced to within 200 yards of our forward posts, screened by natural cover which made his progress difficult to detect until the attack developed to a large-scale assault on our hill, which possessed many strategic advantages, preventing enemy advance on Galatos and commanding both the right and left flanks of his movement on the lower levels.

D Section area therefore developed into an area of concentrated enemy fire from mortar, automatic and light weapons, met by a heavy return fire from our own men with rifle and Bren. Dvrs O. G. Jones

Dvr O. G. Jones; m.i.d.; Otaki; born Otaki, 9 Feb 1918; motor mechanic; wounded 21 May 1941.

and Barker

Dvr C. E. Barker; Wellington; born Wanganui, 16 Apr 1920; sheetmetal worker.

(on the bren-gun)discouraged further enemy advance through the wire defences at the foot of the hill, while rifle fire picked off enemy targets as they appeared. When it became apparent that the enemy's mortar fire was becoming too heavy, and severe casualties were being inflicted on our men, it was decided by the section sergeants to evacuate the position to rear defences, at 1700 hrs.

Following this retirement, which Staff-Sergeant Williams directed, though wounded, D Section survivors were distributed among the other sections, while all sections from then on became ‘mixed-up’. During the retirement, Driver Watkins adds, Driver W. A. Mackinder still held his forward position, under fire from the enemy's machine guns and mortars, and took toll with his rifle. He held his position until mortally wounded.

A Section took post under Second-Lieutenant Almao

Capt S. M. Almao; Wanganui; born NZ 28 Jul 1909; clerk, P & T Dept; wounded May 1941; p.w. 1 Jun 1941.

of 5 Field Regiment alongside D Section at the foot of Wheat Hill. This detachment was to act as a reserve, and to protect an observation post higher up. Corporal Putt

Cpl H. J. Putt; Otakeho, Taranaki; born NZ 9 Jan 1907; fitter.

commanded one A sub-section which occupied a trench on Wheat Hill from 20 to 24 May, and took only a small part in the general action. At each end of this trench was a Vickers machine gun. Putt says he left the trench only three times during those five days, and remarks that no provision seems to have been made for food and water to reach the group; and had it not been for the initiative shown by Lance-Corporal R. Bickers and Driver Bloomfield

Dvr A. G. Bloomfield; born NZ 23 Jun 1918; mechanic; wounded and p.w.1 Jun 1941.

in procuring supplies and providing hot tea once a day, Putt's sub-section, he says, would have had a pretty lean time.

At dusk on 20 May CSM James, then still in effective command of Petrol Company, ordered its withdrawal for reorganisation from Pink Hill to the line of a sunken road (or irrigation trench) in the rear. Concerning this withdrawal Corporal A. T. Rimmer of HQ Section reports:

B and C Sections were compelled to retire from their positions on the hill during the afternoon after having suffered fairly heavy casualties and they took up positions with HQ Section. D Section were still in their positions on the right flank, but during the late afternoon, owing to heavy and accurate mortar fire they also were forced to retire. At the conclusion of the day, the position showed that our line had been withdrawn a short distance. We had suffered fairly heavy casualties, but from information gathered we had been able to inflict heavy casualties on the enemy troops.

Headquarters' sergeant at that time was W. F. Browne. His section was very ‘thin on the ground’. One HQ corporal (Jim Ottaway

WO II J. H. Ottaway; Petone; born Laurence, 19 Feb 1903; civil servant.

), in the vicinity of the cookhouse when the attack opened, tried to rejoin his section but was unable to do so immediately, so he joined A Section at the foot of Wheat Hill.

B Section retired over the top of Pink Hill, which had little cover and was exposed to both the view and the fire of the enemy. A covering party of fourteen men had been posted there, mainly to protect the withdrawal of the wounded. Driver Johnson records:

As the enemy's mortar-fire was getting too close to be comfortable, Dvr Gradon and I dashed into the adjoining trench, which was being held by Cpl Trevelyan, Cpl Reefman,

Cpl J. M. Reefman; born NZ 25 Jan 1906; secretary; p.w. 1 Jun 1941.

and Dvr Sergeant

Dvr V. R. Sergent; born NZ 28 Jul 1914; lorry driver; p.w. 1 Jun 1941.

and a Greek soldier. From there we made a dash up the hill behind our lines. At the top of the hill we found several of our section wounded. We started across the flat top of the hill; Cpl Trevelyan had joined us and was helping a man across the top. There was a lot of bullets flying around, but by crawling along on our stomachs we safely crossed and scrambled into a slit trench.

By this time the Greek troops across the road on Petrol Company's left flank had withdrawn and were replaced by Divisional Cavalry. Some twenty Greeks still manning a Maxim gun when Petrol Company retired were found next morning all dead. Divisional Cavalry's exposed position farther down the valley had proved untenable, and led by Major Russell

Lt-Col J. T. Russell, DSO, m.i.d.; born Hastings, 11 Nov 1904; farmer; CO 22 Bn Feb-Sep 1942; wounded May 1941; killed in action 6 Sep 1942.

they had worked their way round through the hills into Galatas, after some unpleasant moments in the approach to front-line positions held by the Composite Battalion. During the night CSM James effected his reorganisation of Petrol Company then handed over to Captain Rowe,

Capt H. A. Rowe, MC; Piha; born Hokitika, 12 Aug 1914; salesman; OC Pet Coy 20 May-1 Jun 1941; p.w. 1 Jun 1941.

10 Brigade's Supply Officer, who had been sent by Colonel Kippenberger to take command. The CSM, not having met this officer previously, regarded him with some reserve; but he found Captain Rowe to be ‘one of the best’ and soon had complete confidence in him. This confidence seems to have been mutual, for Rowe left James to carry out most of the detailed work of running the Company while he himself attended to the general dispositions, and to effecting liaison with 10 Brigade Headquarters, Divisional Cavalry, and other neighbouring units. During the night, parties from Divisional Petrol and Divisional Cavalry made sorties into Galatas village and cleared out German troops who had gained positions there.

This was an anxious day for 10 Brigade's commanding officer, and he found good cause to praise the steadfastness of “the sturdy Petrol Company”.

Kippenberger, Infantry Brigadier, p. 61.

His main concern was the weakness of his left flank where, after the first German attack in the morning, most of 6 Greek Regiment had withdrawn, leaving gaps between Petrol Company and 19 Battalion east of Galatas. ‘It was fortunate’, writes D. M. Davin in his official history of the Crete campaign, ‘that the enemy pitted his main attack against Petrol Company.’ In an effort to bridge the gap, Captain Bassett,

Maj B. I. Bassett, m.i.d.; born NZ 12 Sep 1911; barrister and solicitor; BM 10 Bde May 1941; BM 4 Bde Aug 1941-Jan 1942, Jun-Jul 1942; killed in action 5 Jul 1942.

Brigade Major of 10 Brigade, worked his way across to the right-hand positions of 19 Battalion, and while doing so, saw a young British officer, Captain Michael Forrester, rally a party of Greeks in a weird counter-attack.

‘Suddenly Forrester began tootling a tin whistle like the Pied Piper’, Bassett wrote, ‘and the whole motley crowd of them surged down against the Huns yelling and shouting in a mad bayonet charge which made the Jerries break and run. This steadied what Greeks were left and we stretched a thin line of outposts across which I patrolled three times that day.’

Anxiety, both on account of the weak left flank and the fate of Divisional Cavalry (concerning which Colonel Kippenberger had heard nothing) ended at about four in the afternoon when Major Russell brought in his cavalry detachment and occupied the weak left sector between Pink Hill and Cemetery Hill. Thus the enemy's chance for a break-through was gone.

More than once during the day Kippenberger asked Divisional Headquarters for infantry support to launch a counter-attack in the prison area, from which the main thrusts were coming and where it was reported that the Germans were preparing a landing ground. The Composite Battalion, though holding their line stoutly, were wholly untrained for such a manoeuvre and were not armed for it. Petrol Company, for example, had no bayonets and were five rifles short of their numerical strength. Their only other weapons were two Brens, one Lewis gun and an anti-tank rifle. They themselves were mostly drivers and technicians, with no previous experience of infantry fighting.

Late in the afternoon two companies came over from 19 Battalion, and three light tanks of the 3rd Hussars, commanded by the intrepid Lieutenant Roy Farran. Two of his tanks went down the road from Galatas towards the prison and returned fairly soon, after shooting a few Germans. Zero hour for the infantry attack was set at 8.30, but the two companies seemed rather vague concerning their objective. They were withdrawn by 10 Brigade before daylight after having inflicted only minor casualties. Meanwhile the retirement of Petrol Company allowed Heidrich's forces to gain a footing on Pink Hill and, had they held out there, things would have looked very sticky for 10 Brigade. But for some unknown reason (perhaps because of the arrival of the tanks and the infantry from 19 Battalion) the enemy withdrew from the hill. Next day Petrol Company returned to their original positions, and the battle for Galatas and the heights that commanded it began over again.

While every man in Petrol Company acquitted himself well on 20 May, a number were outstanding in their coolness under fire and their willingness to undertake hazardous tasks. Some have already been mentioned. Eckersley, for example, who continued firing his Bren gun single-handed, though surrounded, to cover the withdrawal of his detachment, and then himself escaped with his weapon. For this and other exploits, which took a heavy toll in German lives, Eckersley was awarded the Military Medal. The same decoration went to Driver E. B. (‘Skin’) Thompson who, Captain Rowe records, showed outstanding bravery in maintaining contact between Brigade Headquarters, the various sections of Petrol Company, and other neighbouring units. At one stage Thompson carried messages to 6 Greek Regiment—a particularly dangerous mission, since besides running the gauntlet of enemy fire, he risked being shot by the Greeks themselves. On a similar errand later, Thompson was wounded and taken prisoner. Driver Payne,

Dvr K. J. Payne, m.i.d.; London; born England, 22 Apr 1911; clerk; p.w.1 Jun 1941.

the Company Headquarters runner, proved equally zealous and intrepid. G. C. Stephens, as Orderly Sergeant, showed great tact and courage in keeping continuous contact with all Petrol Company sections, even under the heaviest fire; while CSM James's outstanding leadership while acting as company commander has been noted.

When Petrol Company reoccupied the forward positions at dawn on 21 May a strip of ‘no-man's land’ was left on their eastern flank. This strip extended from the Prison road to the summit of Pink Hill, an area offering little cover and continually raked by enemy mortars. Much of the fire came from Cemetery Hill, across the road, where the Germans had established themselves and were able to enfilade the positions of both Petrol Company and Divisional Cavalry. Later in the day a squadron of the Cavalry and an infantry company attacked Cemetery Hill and drove the Germans off, capturing several mortars and machine guns and inflicting severe casualties. But since Cemetery Hill, like Pink Hill, offered little cover, and our troops had no tools to dig in with, they also withdrew, reporting the hill to be untenable. Both sides seemed to agree on this; so Cemetery Hill also became no-man's land.

Apart from continual mortaring, with attacks—and the threat of them—from enemy aircraft, the day passed fairly quietly. Sergeant-Major Chetwin took over HQ Section, supervising operations in the Company's reorganised line, while CSM James accompanied Captain Rowe on reconnaissance and liaison work. With so many casualties on the previous day among officers and sergeants, added responsibility for leadership fell to the corporals, who ably commanded the groups allotted them. Among these, Thwaites,

Cpl H. O. Thwaites; born Auckland, 30 Oct 1908; motor driver; killed in action 25 May 1941.

Stewart, Ottaway, Hurdley,

Cpl J. E. Hurdley; Waikanae; born Timaru, 9 Jul 1906; bus driver; wounded 29 May 1941; p.w. 1 Jun 1941.

Bailie and Ginders were prominent. Casualties that day included a machine-gun team comprising Drivers A. N. Norton,

Dvr A. N. Norton; born Otahuhu, 19 Dec 1916; taxi driver; died of wounds while p.w. 2 Jun 1941.

who later died of his wounds, and Colin Standen,

Dvr C. R. Standen; born Masterton, 17 Aug 1914; tram conductor; died of wounds 21 May 1941.

killed. Colin was one of five Standen brothers who served with the 2 NZEF, three of them in Petrol Company. Two lost their lives on Crete.

During the morning, after arranging with Major Russell that Petrol Company and Divisional Cavalry would each cover one side of Pink Hill, Captain Rowe asked Colonel Kippenberger to inspect the Company's line. This he did, in company with the Brigade Major. Rowe pointed out that Petrol Company, with about 130 men, was holding a front of over 1000 yards, and asked for reinforcements. But it was decided, in view of the general shortage, to continue with the same strength (later increased by Divisional Petrol personnel returning from various duties, e.g., at 7 General Hospital and Brigade Headquarters) and only to call for reinforcements in time of stress.

For both sides 21 May was a very busy day, and in terms of the fate of Crete, a crucial one. General Student, directing the German operations from Greece, had seen his plans go awry the previous day, especially in the Galatas sector. But he had made some gains near Maleme, where 22 Battalion was forced to withdraw. Nevertheless he expected a strong counter-attack there, and was not too hopeful about his chances of with- standingwithstanding it. In the Prison area Colonel Heidrich, commanding 3 Parachute Regiment, also expected strong counter-measures, which would have put his force completely ‘in the cart’. The determined stand by Petrol Company and other units on the first day had foiled his moves for the speedy capture of Galatas; the ground he held was not easily defensible, a large number of his men were killed, and he now had hundreds of wounded on his hands.

His remaining troops were losing their zest, and CSM Neuhoff, already quoted, expressed his feelings in this way:

It was particularly noticeable that a very large proportion of our casualties had been shot in the head. This fact and the controlled fire and discipline of the enemy led us to believe that we were up against a specialist force of picked snipers, of whose strength we had no accurate idea but which we judged to be far greater than ours … we were expecting the enemy to counter-attack…. We had suffered heavy casualties and had encountered opposition far greater than anticipated or ever before experienced. Our Commanding Officer wished to retire to a better defensive position in hilly wooded country to the south-west of the prison…. It was eventually decided to remain in our original positions and we were greatly relieved when the expected counter-attack did not eventuate.

In 10 Brigade, by contrast, morale was still high; but our men were not equal to the task of counter-attack, and by the time Divisional Headquarters was able to mount one, the opportunity for it had gone. In the Maleme sector, likewise, various factors hindered a swift and all-out onslaught against the enemy to drive him from the airfield and so prevent German reinforcements from landing there. One factor was an expected invasion by seaborne forces, to deal with which several of our all-too-few battalions had to be kept in hand. As it happened, the Royal Navy took care of this sea invasion, effectively thwarting on the night of 21-22 May a German force of several thousand men, together with tanks, transport, supplies and heavy armament. The boats were scattered and turned back. Nevertheless, General Student, reinforcing success, threw in his reserves at Maleme. Our counter-attack there failed; and from that moment (as Student declared at his trial, years later) Crete was won for Germany.

canea-galatas sector, 22 may, 1941 black and white map of army movement

Ironically enough, Petrol Company and others of the Composite Battalion, watching the never-ending stream of German troop-carriers flying towards Maleme, were greatly cheered. They thought the Hun was evacuating. The idea of a defeat just didn't occur to them. But early in the morning of 22 May Colonel Kippenberger heard that things had not been going well for us at Maleme. ‘Nevertheless’, he writes, ‘it was decided to go ahead with my plans. 19 Battalion attacked with two companies on a front of 800 yards, with the object of regaining most of the ground from which the Greeks had been driven. Meagre support was given by our three Italian 75's and a couple of mortars. There was considerable opposition, enemy aircraft intervened with some effect and, after three hours of rather desultory scrapping in very broken ground, both companies withdrew with a dozen casualties, having captured a mortar and three heavy machine-guns. The day closed with a heavy attack in the evening on the old line up the Prison road. This was fiercely pressed on a front of some 700 yards, and after losing about fifty men the rather weary Petrol Company fell back, though still fighting.’

In point of fact, Petrol Company gave no ground at all on 22 May, and Colonel Kippenberger was no doubt misled by a false report to Brigade Headquarters stating that the Company was being driven out of Galatas—a report which caused Captain Rowe to send to Brigade the following terse message: ‘Div Pet are, and will remain, in their original positions’.

Not only were they in them, but they were dug in. A few picks and shovels had somehow come to light on 22 May, and our men took advantage of a rather quiet morning to get below ground. Their original trenches, dug by the Welch Regiment, had proved too wide for protection against mortar bursts and were too shallow to provide riflemen with adequate cover. Earlier, it seems, there had been one pick and one shovel for the whole Company, but these had been needed for burials. During the temporary withdrawal on the night of 20-21 May Drivers Baldwin and Thompson had carved themselves a dugout, using a tin-hat and a short Italian bayonet.

In the afternoon of 22 May reports reached Captain Rowe of enemy troop movements at the crossroads near the prison. He and CSM James decided to investigate. They went some distance forward of the wire in front of Company Headquarters' positions, where they were seen and machine-gunned by three fighter planes. Simultaneously, Galatas and the Petrol Company's lines were attacked from the air–all this being preliminary to a German infantry advance up the Galatas road, and up the ‘dead’ area on Pink Hill. The Hun was obviously intent on working into Galatas via the Divisional Petrol positions.

Rowe and James were cut off for a time, and when they got back events were moving briskly. One determined enemy thrust pierced the Company's line; but Corporal N. M. Stewart, who had been in reserve with about thirty men of the night-watching patrols, rushed into the breach and drove the Germans back about 100 yards. For this he was awarded the Military Medal. Some Germans succeeded in getting to the top of Pink Hill; and as they could thus outflank Petrol Company's positions, Rowe sent for immediate reinforcements and ordered a concentrated fire on Pink Hill. ‘Everything we had went off’, he writes, ‘and soon the Greeks arrived. I asked them to clear the Hill, but in view of our few numbers I refused to allow Div Pet to participate.’

Nonetheless, many of the Company did participate. Sergeant Stephens, in Company Headquarters' area, could see the Germans out in front from time to time, and Corporal Stubbs, who was alongside him, potted one. ‘The Greeks were back in the left rear in reserve under Capt Forrester and also a Greek Major with red tabs such as our Colonels (and above) wear’, Captain Rowe reported. ‘The Greeks moved through Div Pet to the front. HQ Section was only a few yards from a clearing, and in front of the line was a patch of open land with grass, grape-vines and some bushes. The Germans were among the vines and bushes. At about 5 p.m. the Greeks charged into them, with yelling which was led by the Greek major—his voice could be heard above all the noise of battle.’

Also into the fray rushed the women and children of Galatas, brandishing knives, reap-hooks and such-like primitive weapons, and leaping and screaming like wild animals. Men from Petrol Company followed, in a bayonet charge without bayonets. The enemy turned and fled. Sergeant Stephens affirms that although Captain Rowe forbade them to take part, most of Petrol Company around him did so, including Corporal Stubbs. Later, as a prisoner of war, Stephens spoke to the Germans about this weird counter-attack and they told him that when the children from the village joined in, it took the heart out of them. They could not fire at the children, so they bolted. It no doubt came as a shock to the Germans to find themselves so hated by the civilian population. They had assumed all along that the Cretans would be sympathetic towards them, and ready to balk the efforts of the island's defenders.

Just before the attack on HQ Section area a Petrol Company group in the valley between Wheat Hill and Pink Hill took a pounding from the general air blitz, then found themselves attacked by ground forces. Driver Baldwin relates:

L-Cpl Hearn,

L-Cpl W. F. Hearn; Havelock North; born Hokitika, 20 Aug 1912; linesman.

a quiet unassuming sort of chap, stood up and called out, ‘Let's charge the bastards, boys!’ With rifles only—no bayonets—we charged. Ruback

Dvr A. H. A. Ruback; born NZ 4 Jan 1907; driver; died of wounds 22 May 1941.

and Depper

Dvr R. G. Depper; Canada; born England 6 Dec 1903; motor driver; wounded 22 May 1941.

were hit. We then heard a voice, authoritative and in perfect English, call out, ‘ASC cease fire!’ We had lost our original officers and did not recognise the voice, but it took the kick out of the charge. Things looked a bit grim for a time. Then we heard the Greeks and civilians making a terrific racket up nearer Galatos. They had been out collecting arms from dead Jerries that day, and earlier I saw one Greek in a pleated skirt with eight or nine rifles.

This charge, coming from a fresh quarter, ‘threw’ the Germans, so we took fresh heart and charged again, firing as we ran. The Germans retreated, and we chased them through the olive trees. I did not count the dead myself, but there must have been about twenty on our front. Pet Coy captured five Spandau machine-guns with ammunition and two trench mortars without ammunition.

The authoritative voice speaking ‘perfect English’ was no doubt that of Colonel Kippenberger who, with Lieutenant Carson

Maj W. N. Carson, MC, m.i.d.; born NZ 16 Jul 1916; warehouseman; wounded 29 Jul 1944; died of wounds 8 Oct 1944.

and a small reserve force of 4 RMT men, had moved quickly round to Wheat Hill with the idea of counter-attacking the enemy on his left flank. The Colonel was waiting for Carson's men to line up before giving him the order to charge, when ‘a most infernal uproar broke out across the valley’— coming of course from the Greeks and Cretans. One other conspicuous effort in the day's activities was that of Petrol Company's Driver Peel-Walker, who on 20 May had fought his way to safety with Corporal Trevelyan's hard-pressed MG detachment. Firing a captured Spandau on the Company's right flank, Peel-Walker accounted for two of the three enemy machine guns concentrated there. He used tracer to attract the Germans' fire, and then calmly shot them up. This and other exploits gained him the Military Medal.

That day the Company came under command of Major Russell, his Divisional Cavalry detachment and our company thus making a single tactical formation (Russell Force) to cover both sides of the vital Prison-Galatas road.

Petrol Company's mood that evening is summed up by Corporal Rimmer: ‘We were tired but exhilarated by our success. Our casualties had been light, and we felt we had justified ourselves as infantrymen. Naturally we could not perform to the same extent as experienced and trained infanteers, but our lack of experience and weapons did not damp the fighting qualities of our men.’

When the Company became part of Russell Force changes were made in the disposition of the remaining elements of the Composite Battalion. By now the battalion had had 190 casualties. It was showing signs of exhaustion. On 23 May a relief was arranged and 18 Battalion took over the positions on Petrol Company's right flank from Wheat Hill to the sea. A platoon from 4 Field Regiment, under Lieutenant Dill,

Lt J. P. Dill, m.i.d.; born England, 30 Aug 1915; fur merchant; died of wounds while p.w. 1 Jun 1941.

was moved up to hold the crest of Pink Hill.

The pasting taken by 5 Brigade in the Maleme area also had its effect upon the fortunes of Petrol Company. Far from the enemy withdrawing in that sector, at least 12,000 additional troops were landed there on 22 May, the enemy also landing light tanks, Bren carriers, field and mountain guns, motor-cycles, machine guns and mortars of various calibres. This extra weight of men and material eventually forced 5 Brigade back into the Divisional Reserve area, giving the enemy in the Maleme sector substantial control of the coast road, and thus facilitating the meeting-up of his ‘West’ Force with Heidrich's troops in the prison area. Together they could bring a crushing weight to bear upon 18 Battalion, Petrol Company, 4 Field Regiment and other New Zealand units barring the way to Canea.

That this was their firm intention became abundantly clear on 23 and 24 May. Enemy patrols from the prison area were very active against Russell Force on both sides of the Galatas road. Farther north, parties of the Composite Battalion, working south of the coast road to cover the withdrawal of 5 Brigade, reported several brushes with the Germans. Both enemy groups were extending ‘feeler’ patrols towards each other. On 24 May, with 5 Brigade now out of the line, 18 Battalion, holding the whole front from Galatas to the sea, was heavily mortared. The entire Galatas area came in for much ground strafing from planes at tree-top level. That day Second-Lieutenant Collins and Sergeant Jim Greig, who had been with the Petrol Company picket group in Canea, made their way back to the Company.

This group had been billeted alongside the Greek HQ and when the invasion began moved to the British Provost HQ where they took up defensive positions in conjunction with the Tommy and Australian redcaps. In the first few days the group noted little beyond the frequent bombing of the town and the internment of a good number of German prisoners. On Saturday, 24 May, Collins and Greig, considering it their duty to rejoin the hard-pressed Company, set off for Galatas at 10 a.m.

On that afternoon seven men were killed as the result of a direct bomb hit through the centre of their building and another simultaneously against the west wall. None of these casualties were New Zealanders. The same evening the picket group moved to a position on a hillside north of Canea, where they stayed one day, moving out on Monday, 26 May, because of severe bombing attacks on the area. They had been ordered by Force HQ to that position–right alongside an ammunition dump, with trucks parked all round, and a naval gun just behind them! On the night of 26-27 May the party moved towards Suda Bay, where it became separated. Only six or seven of this group eventually rejoined the unit in Egypt.

On 25 May, Petrol Company's sixth consecutive day of fighting, the enemy began his expected heavy push against the whole Galatas line. He had spent the previous night getting his artillery, mortars and machine guns into position, ample cover being available in the numerous gullies and olive groves, and on the reverse sides of hills. During the morning strong parties of enemy infantry took up positions under cover opposite 18 Battalion, and one column 1500 strong was observed about noon moving forward in threes, ready to deploy. From that time mortaring and air attacks along the whole line became intense.

The attack opened at 2 p.m. with the usual stiff thrust against Petrol Company, the enemy having a fixed idea that his best way into Galatas was via our Company's lines—a costly notion for him, but one which no amount of punishment seemed able to dispel. Petrol Company, for their part, had an equally fixed idea that Jerry wasn't going that way. Helped by enfilade fire from Divisional Cavalry, the Company stood fast and held up enemy progress in the Pink Hill area. Divisional Cavalry also came under hot ground fire, and as the battle progressed Major Russell had difficulty in keeping touch with his force. Telephone lines were cut, and communication had to be made by runner. Soon the various elements of Russell Force, including two infantry platoons from 19 Battalion sent up as reinforcements, were acting more or less independently.

By the middle of the afternoon the whole Galatas line was under very severe pressure. Eighteenth Battalion, on Petrol Company's right flank, came in for a mauling. Its D Company near the sea was quickly overrun, and despite gallant counter-attacks, that flank was turned. Simultaneously the enemy lunged hard against A Company, then holding Wheat Hill immediately to the right of Petrol Company. Jerry's plan, no doubt, was to encircle the centre of the 18 Battalion front, then held by C Company. The extreme pressure on A Company (right alongside Petrol Company) caused it, too, to withdraw, after holding out gallantly and sustaining heavy casualties; and so, to avoid encirclement, C Company also withdrew.

This left Russell Force in a most perilous position, not helped by the fact that Captain Rowe and CSM James were in the dark about what was actually happening on their right. Captain Rowe reports: ‘I had no indication that there was going to be a withdrawal, but as the afternoon progressed, more and heavier fire came from our right flank and on several occasions I tried to contact 18th Battalion and at one stage sent a Sgt and runner to definitely find out what had happened. Late in the afternoon I received a call from Major Russell to say that he was hard pressed and must withdraw but would try and hold out until we came through. He said that the 18th Battalion had been withdrawn some hours before. This was my first definite advice of a withdrawal on this flank.’

‘Skin’ Thompson, again running the gauntlet from Petrol Company lines to Divisional Cavalry, managed to contact Major Russell, whom he found with a bandage round his head directing operations from a slit trench. From there Thompson was sent with a message to 18 Battalion's headquarters on Red Hill. He arrived in time to catch a heavy dive-bombing attack by massed Stukas, and to join in the subsequent retirement of 18 Battalion. Almost immediately he was hit by a machine-gun bullet in the right arm, closely followed by a mortar burst which wounded him in the rump, neck and leg. Dazed, but still mobile, Thompson ‘ran like Hell’, he says, uphill instead of down. An infantry S/M slapped a couple of field dressings on him then directed him downhill to the RAP.

At this stage there were nearly 200 wounded at the RAP, with two trucks working non-stop, taking men down to the ADS in loads. The wounded were sorted under a culvert on the road and the really bad cases taken into a farmhouse, then being used as a kind of field hospital by two or three untiring MOs. Thompson was directed to a stable along with ten or twelve of the less seriously wounded. There he found Driver Crocker

L-Cpl H. J. Crocker; Auckland; born NZ 10 Feb 1918; millhand mechanic; wounded 25 May 1941.

of Petrol Company (wounded in the leg) who had been sent out to find him that afternoon when he failed to return to the Company lines.

A runner from 18 Battalion trying to reach Petrol Company to warn them of the Battalion's withdrawal was also shot up. He was found later on by Lieutenant Carson and his RMT patrol which had come forward to help stiffen the line. ‘Hardly had it arrived when there was an attack by thirty Stukas which weakened the right flank badly. Into the gap Lieutenant Carson took his patrol and the whole force stayed grimly put against attacks of increasing intensity. Even after 18 Battalion had withdrawn they stayed on, the runner sent to warn them of the retirement having been killed on the way.

‘The consequence of 18 Battalion's withdrawal was that the Petrol Company was now coming under heavy fire from the right as well as the front. But Captain Rowe and his men battled stoutly on in defence of their positions until a message came by telephone–this line must have been one of the few that remained uncut–from Major Russell to the effect that 18 Battalion had withdrawn and that he himself was so hard pressed that he would have to withdraw also; but he would try to hold on for a time so that the Petrol Company could withdraw first.’

Davin, Crete, p. 306.

Shortly afterwards Divisional Cavalry retired towards Karatsos and the 19 Battalion positions. About the same time Captain Rowe sent a message along Petrol Company's line to its right flank asking them to send runners to collect any food and ammunition possible, and saying that in a quarter of an hour the Company would retire in extended line, using the flank on Pink Hill as a pivot. They would thus form a new line in front of Galatas facing Wheat Hill. Rowe hoped in this way to contact troops who had been between Galatas and Ruin Hill in the morning. Those troops, however, had also been withdrawn, so Petrol Company was ordered to continue its retirement through Galatas with the idea of linking up with 19 Battalion behind the village.

The whole operation was a hazardous one exposing the remnants of the company to enemy view and fire. Concerning it CSM James says: ‘Passing through the southern outskirts we discovered Div Cav was being fiercely attacked and we carried out some of their wounded. Pet Coy had very heavy casualties. These seemed to come from box barrages laid by mortars sited on Ruin Hill which overlooked the whole area.’

Captain Rowe relates:

Sgt Greig, CSM James and I were the last of our unit out of Galatos and found some wounded at the Exchange. We had them carried back and Sgt Greig, myself and CSM James were leaving Galatos in that order when three mortar bombs landed alongside us. Sgt Greig was hit in the head and although it was later turned to concussion he was able to walk at this stage: CSM James was hit on the legs, I was untouched. We called back some of the others and carried CSM James out on a blanket until we reached the 19 Bn RAP. Greig was then delirious, and leaving him and James I found Major Russell.

Out on the far flank of this pivoting movement, Sergeant Stephens noted that many men were picked off by the enemy as they moved through the groves in extended order. He and some others struck a sunken road and made their way along it into Galatas. Through Galatas they ran into an officer who, Stephens says, was brandishing a revolver and ‘was about to counter-attack Galatos’. Stephens prepared to join up with him, but an MO called out, ‘I want you four men’; so he and three others went to carry back some wounded. They carried a number to a waiting truck on the eastern outskirts of Galatas. Then at dusk Stephens and the other three set out to find Divisional Petrol Company or Captain Rowe. The counter-attack on Galatas—the most dramatic episode in the whole Crete campaign—was shared by a number from Petrol Company, and is described further on.

Corporal Rimmer, of Headquarters Section, notes that during this retirement enemy mortar fire was concentrated on Petrol Company, and snipers were very active. The Luftwaffe also harassed persistently and the withdrawal, Rimmer found, became so difficult that after getting through the village it was a matter of every man following the line of best cover and moving as quickly as possible. Consequently the Company became separated and most of them attached themselves to other units in the area. This came about through approaching darkness, and the fact that the men were obliged to disperse widely as they retired. Next day Captain Rowe endeavoured to find his Company and get the men together again, but after much effort only a handful could be collected.

When the enemy entered Galatas on the heels of 18 Battalion, 10 Brigade's left flank, held by Russell Force, was in danger of being cut off. The main elements of that force, including Divisional Petrol, had succeeded in making a fighting withdrawal. But Kippenberger, with his communications cut, was in the dark about its fate. He was also concerned over the probable effects of an enemy break-through on his centre, at Galatas. This would enable the Germans to drive north to the coast road, and thus also encircle his right flank, which he had managed with great difficulty to restore. At all cost, he decided, Galatas

Dinner-time in Syriablack and white photograph of soldiers eating

Pulling out from Asluj, June 1942black and white photograph of army truck

Petrol Company group in the Western Desertblack and white photograph of soldiers relaxing beside truck

Workshops detachment at Amiriyablack and white photograph of soldier welding

Mick Hall, George Ellison, Don Craig, Doug Meurk and —Hutchisonblack and white photograph of soldiers

Don Craig and Laurie Butters bedded down beside their truckblack and white photograph of soldiers sleeping beside truck

Loading supplies. The German water tank in this photograph was picked up in the desert and repaired by 13 Sectionblack and white photograph of soldiers

Mud at Sidi Haneish, November 1942black and white photograph of truck stuck in mud must be held. The arrival, a little before eight in the evening, of two ancient Mark VI tanks under Lieutenant Roy Farran gave him some hope of retaking the village.

Kippenberger ordered Farran to take his tanks into Galatas to see what was there. Two companies of 23 Battalion were then told that they must retake the village with the help of the tanks when they returned, moving straight up the road, with one company on either side of it in single file.

Following the tanks and infantry went a number of men out of touch with their own units, including Petrol Company's Norman Lambert,

Dvr N. F. Lambert; Onehunga; born NZ 1 Jun 1916; grocer.

Jack Plumtree, and several others who had been on duty at Brigade Headquarters. Though both tanks struck trouble and Farran and his crew were wounded, the attack succeeded brilliantly. The battle-worn infantry charged as though inspired, completely routing the Germans from the town. But despite this success, which gave a much-needed breathing space, there was no hope now of re-establishing our line. A new and shorter one east of Karatsos was ordered to be formed next day. But the writing was already on the wall. By 26 May it was clear that Crete could no longer be defended. Withdrawal and evacuation—the mixture as before—remained as the only alternative.

On the night of 26-27 May a general retreat began to Sfakia, a little fishing village on the south coast, which had been fixed as the main point of embarkation. This meant for Petrol Company and others—who had been fighting day and night since the morning of 20 May—a forced march of about 40 miles over steep mountainous country. Most found this a harrowing experience; for many it entailed extremes of hardship.

Norm Lambert, for example, wore the soles from his boots and continued walking with bleeding feet in the remains of his socks. He was fortunate in getting a lift for about three miles up one of the bigger hills. By dusk he had reached a point about 2000 feet above sea level, overlooking Sfakia. He had no blanket, no overcoat, only his service uniform. The night was so cold, he says, that he and his companions cut branches off the pine trees and covered themselves that way. Next day they were forbidden to go down to the beach. He got off by night in HMAS Perth, which was attacked on the way to Egypt by enemy planes. He and some mates were leaning against the warship's galley when the aircraft were spotted. The New Zealanders moved away to watch proceedings, and immediately a bomb hit the place where they had been standing. It killed the ship's cooks, accounting altogether for about sixteen men. Had it landed just a little further forward, Lambert says, the bomb would have claimed a great many more.

George Baldwin also had foot trouble on the march, having started off in a pair of size nine boots. He normally took size seven; but an issue had been made at Galatas on the basis of one pair to every sixty men, and since George had then worn right through his soles, the only pair available was issued to him. On the hike to Sfakia they reduced his feet to a raw and bleeding mess. To make matters worse, Baldwin like a number of others was suffering from dysentery. For a time he joined a party of our Engineers, who would march for an hour then halt for ten minutes. ‘At one of these halts I went to sleep, and when I woke up there was no one there. I was entirely on my own, and never felt so lonely in my life. It was the middle of the night, but I got up and walked on alone. Eventually I joined up with Phil Keddell and one other bloke from Pet Coy; but I was so sick with dysentery that I reached a stage where I could go no further, so I told the others to push on ahead. Later I recovered a little and picked up with Fleck, a 20 Bn chap with a wounded ankle. I was able to help him a bit. When we got to Sfakia we ran into a mob of the 20 Battalion. They were told to toss out anyone not known to be in their unit; but as I had helped Fleck I was allowed to go along, and so got off Crete with the Twentieth.’

Jim Ottaway's story starts after he had lost touch with the Company in the darkness during the night of the withdrawal from Galatas.

I attached myself to an artillery unit which had four guns on the hill above the village. As the officer in charge decided it was too risky for the guns to remain there, they and the troop moved out towards Canea at approximately 0200 hrs next morning. I walked behind the guns until nearing Canea. I was compelled to rest by the roadside and so lost touch with the artillery unit. That day I tried to get in touch with the Div Pet Coy picquet which had been left in Canea, but as the town had been destroyed the day before, I found no sign of the picquet. I marched for a time with a party of the 18 Bn and on the way encountered Dvrs Campbell

Dvr J. Campbell; Auckland; born Edinburgh, 4 May 1906; builder.

and Lillico.

Dvr W. J. Lillico; born England, 3 Mar 1912; painter.

They had not seen anything of the Pet Coy, but had heard of an order to proceed to an evacuation point on the other side of the island. When I returned after a temporary absence I found they had already started off.

I walked to the evacuation point that night and took cover for the day as enemy bombers were overhead. When dusk came I proceeded to the barrier at the beach and learned that only walking wounded were being taken off. Subsequently, however, volunteers were called for a loading party to unload stores from the boats and transport them up the beach some distance. I volunteered for the work and when the job was finished the British officer in charge told the party they could go aboard the destroyer. I did so and arrived in Alexandria on the afternoon of 29 May. With the exception of Dvrs Campbell and Lillico I saw no Div Pet personnel from the night of the retreat from Galatos until I boarded the destroyer at Sfakia.

Sergeant Stephens was less fortunate. After helping to carry out wounded men from Galatas he and three Petrol Company drivers set out to find the Company or Captain Rowe. Failing to do so, they tagged on to 20 Battalion. Some distance past Suda they dug in. Then Captain Veitch

Capt J. Veitch; born Scotland, 2 Feb 1901; omnibus driver; died while p.w. 3 Jun 1941.

of the 4 RMT came along and called for all NZASC men, saying, ‘You'll have to come back with me’. Stephens, impressed by the orderliness of the battalion as opposed to the evident disorder of all other troops in sight, refused to go. Veitch then went to Colonel Kippenberger and asked him for orders to withdraw the ASC men from the battalion and the Colonel agreed. Thus Stephens and his party left with Captain Veitch.

Somewhere on the way to Sfakia Stephens was put in charge of a group of 100 Australians and with them he continued until they found their own officers. He ended up, he says, in a cave with twenty men and two British officers, who managed to get some food (two tins) and brought back news that they would not embark that night (27 May). They stayed where they were for two or three days; then one morning the British officers vanished and German soldiers appeared. Surrender (which had been authorised for all troops left behind) was then their only course.

Drivers Guy,

Cpl M. C. Guy; Wellington; born NZ 20 Sep 1914; transport driver.

O'Connor

Maj C. W. O'Connor; Lower Hutt; born Gisborne, 7 May 1914; motor mechanic; now Regular Force; DAD EME, Central Military District.

and Erle Stewart came off with a battalion of 5 Brigade. They made their way to Canea and eventually to a point south of Suda Bay, where they met Major Davis of Supply Company. He informed them where to go to embark, ‘the only definite orders we received’, Stewart says, ‘and the last contact made with an ASC officer. In the vicinity of Sfakia we were told to hole up. Over the last three days rations were conspicuous by their absence. A big portion of Pet Coy were at the embarkation point at the same time as ourselves, but no effort was made to organize them. After two days spent in vain efforts to get into an organized party we attached ourselves to the 23 Bn.’

Several other survivors mention the difficulty of procuring food and water during the retreat, though Corporal Rimmer recalls that a ration point had been established on the road and supplies were handed out to the troops as they passed. However, most Petrol Company men who escaped travelled across country, keeping off the roads and making no contact with official assembly areas. ‘These men’, says one, ‘kept on down to the beach and had no difficulty in embarking on the waiting ships. The others, comprising about 75% of Pet Coy survivors, waited patiently on the hill for orders to proceed to the beach, but due to some misunderstanding regarding insufficient shipping, they waited until the last and were then told that no more men could be taken off. Shortly afterwards the Germans arrived and the men had no alternative but to lay down their arms.’

Driver Stanger, who came off with the Engineers, could also find, when he reached the assembly point, no arrangements for getting NZASC units off the island. He puts in a good word for the unit ‘spud barbers’—Bill Ambrose, Maurie Smylie,

Cpl M. V. Smylie; Feilding; born Chatham Islands, 2 Mar 1921; iron moulder.

Davey Hall,

Dvr D. Hall; born Aust., 7 Mar 1906; labourer; died 15 Mar 1957.

Eric Sutton,

Dvr E. S. Sutton; Te Horo; born Otaki, 8 Oct 1916; farmer; p.w. 1 Jun 1941.

and others—who worked under great difficulty in both Greece and Crete, yet still managed to claim quite a few German ‘scalps.’

Arthur Stubbs,

L-Cpl A. G. Stubbs; Wellington; born NZ 18 May 1907; mechanic; woundedMay 1941; p.w. 1 Jun 1941.

before being captured on Crete, had some humorous experiences. He and Fred Davey were helping a wounded comrade out of Galatas when both were hit by bomb fragments. They handed over their charge at a dressing station on the coast, where both received ‘walking wounded’ chits for evacuation from Suda Bay. On the way to Suda, however, Stubbs acquired a donkey, with the idea of riding instead of walking. But the donkey proving stubborn, and Stubbs being more so, Fred Davey pushed on and left them to it.

Eventually, minus the donkey, Stubbs made his way to Suda, where he picked up with Geoff Harman

Dvr G. B. Harman; Hastings; born NZ 28 Dec 1917; clerk; p.w. 1 Jun 1941.

of Petrol Company. They found an abandoned naval store near the Bay, ‘chocka- blockchockablock with food and kegs of rum’, so they helped themselves. By this time things were getting pretty hot in the Suda area, so, hearing that evacuation was taking place at Sfakia, they followed the crowd and arrived there in the middle of the night. Some British officers at the assembly area gave Stubbs a message to take to General Freyberg. This he delivered just as ‘Tiny’ was stepping into a boat to embark in a flying boat moored offshore; and Stubbs believes he was the last person to speak to the GOC on Crete.

When he reported back to the officers, they said, ‘Good show. Now we are going to turn it in’. Stubbs refused to believe that this meant surrender for the thousands of soldiers still left on Crete. But so it proved; and he and Harman went ‘into the bag’. But they soon walked out of it; and what with numerous escapes and recaptures Arthur Stubbs spent almost a year on the island.

One of the most dramatic evacuation stories is told by Petrol Company's Corporal D. R. Plumtree, one of a party which escaped from Crete in an invasion barge and landed—after running out of petrol—on the Egyptian coast near Sidi Barrani. By 3 a.m. on 1 June, Plumtree found himself only a few hundred yards from the beach at Sfakia, among troops packed five deep and extending about a mile to the rear. He writes:

Orders were shouted from the beach for all troops to remove magazines and bolts from their rifles. This order being complied with we were told that there would be no further evacuation of troops from Crete. It was suggested by officers that we were to show as much white cloth as possible and dispense with arms and ammunition as we were to surrender. The troops then dispersed about the village and surrounding hills.

I decided upon a couple of hours sleep after which I went in search of rations of which there were none to be found. I then went in search of a suitable place of refuge, and was successful in finding a cave about a half mile east of the village on the water's edge. No sooner had I reached there when several enemy aircraft began strafing and dive bombing the village in spite of the white towels and handkerchiefs being waved by the troops. This attack lasted about half an hour and I have no idea as to casualties inflicted. The attack was made between 0900 and 0930 hrs.

While I was sheltering there, I heard noises of metal bumping against rock and upon investigating, found an invasion barge SD 15 moored inside a cave. On this barge were miscellaneous personnel including Dvr N. Christall

Dvr N. Christall; Lower Hutt; born NZ 9 Mar 1909; driver.

of Petrol Coy, two ASC attached 5 Fd Amb and one member of Div Sup Coln. Their names were unknown to me….

We remained in concealment during the daylight hours of the 1st June and at 2145 hrs with a complement of 63 men we proceeded on our voyage. We left our departure to nightfall owing to the fact that German troops were in Sfakia. As we left the shore we were subjected to intense machine gun fire by enemy troops from the village. No casualties were inflicted. By pursuing a zigzag course we were out of range within a few minutes. At approximately 0200 hrs June 2nd we struck a submerged rock on the southern tip of Gaudavous Island some forty miles south of Sfakia. Owing to the receding tide we were unable to refloat the barge so we unloaded all our stores and dispersed on the island. While on the island we split up into foraging parties in an endeavour to build up our meagre store of rations and water. We were not very successful in this matter but were able to fill every available vessel with brackish water.

At approximately 1600 hrs the barge was refloated but one ballast tank was full of water. We got the barge into a suitable place of concealment whereupon we proceeded to bail and pump the water out of it and reloaded our provisions. Fourteen men decided to remain on the island owing to the meagre rations on the ship, so we arranged a prominent rendezvous for a flare position for Naval or RAF craft. We equipped them with the best of our boots and clothing also water bottles and all available money, so that they could purchase food from the local inhabitants. Just as we were about to sail, four Australians and one Greek who had made their way from Crete in a rowing boat joined our party, thus giving us a total of 54 men. We left the island at approximately 2100 hrs on 2 June and at 1600 hrs on 3 June ran out of petrol. We were then about one hundred miles from Crete. By making use of several poles and sewing blankets together we made a mast and sail which assisted our progress considerably. Thanks to favourable winds and fervent prayers we sighted land at 1100 hrs 8 June. We beached our craft approximately 6 miles East of Sidi Barrani at 0130 hrs on 9 June.

We were fortunate landing near a camp of the RASC who, upon being awakened, made us a cup of tea and a meal. The OC made arrangements for transport to Mersa Matruh leaving at 1830 hrs the same day. Upon arrival at Mersa we were bedded down at the Transit Camp. We entrained for Amiriya at 0630 hrs and arrived at 1400 hrs 10th June. There we were fed and re-equipped to the extent of a change of clothes and toilet gear.

We left there at 1100 hrs 12 June per RASC convoy and arrived at Kasr-el-Nil Barracks at 1700 hrs. From there we were transported to Base Reception Depot, Maadi, thence moved to our various Units.

All troops left behind on Crete had been authorised by General Wavell to surrender, but many roamed at large for months, dodging the Jerries and being sheltered and helped by friendly Cretans. Such aid brought the islanders savage reprisals; in some cases they were shot in batches of twenty or thirty, often including people quite unconnected with the ‘crime’. Some men from Petrol Company rejoined the unit in Egypt after weeks of wandering through Turkey and the Mediterranean islands. Others repeatedly walked out on their German captors, spending a year or more on Crete before being finally caught and caged.

A most persistent spurner of German ‘hospitality’ was Petrol Company's Driver W. J. Siely,

Dvr W. J. Siely, DCM; Trentham; born NZ 24 Jul 1918; printer; p.w.1 Jun 1941; escaped Jul 1944.

who escaped three times on Crete, and four times from various stalags and working camps in Germany. Siely finally gained his liberty when he and a Tommy and two Frenchmen were smuggled aboard a Swedish vessel at Stettin. For five days they stayed hidden in the air- shaftairshaft of the main funnel, and were later put ashore at Kalmar, Sweden, eventually reaching Britain in August 1944. Siely's exploits won him the DCM.

See W. W. Mason, Prisoners of War.

The official history, Crete, also details the adventures of other Petrol Company escapists, viz., Drivers J. Symes,

Dvr J. Symes, m.i.d.; Hawera; born NZ 1 Sep 1915; storeman; wounded31 May 1941; p.w. 1 Jun 1941; escaped 18 Jun 1941; returned to Egypt May 1943.

F. P. H. McCoy,

Dvr F. P. H. McCoy; London; born Wellington, 10 Jan 1918; labourer; p.w. 1 Jun 1941.

W. H. Swinburne,

Dvr W. H. Swinburne; Wellington; born Wellington, 7 Oct 1917; painter; wounded 21 May 1941; p.w. 1 Jun 1941; escaped 21 Jun 1941; returned to Egypt Sep 1943.

P. L. Winter and H. F. Mace. Besides breaking out in Crete, Winter also got away from a prison in Greece, after which he received a brutal beating-up. Symes dodged about, living in caves, and evading German round-up parties, for nearly two years. He finally made contact with a New Zealand staff-sergeant, T. Moir

S-Sgt T. Moir, DCM, MM; Rotorua; born Gisborne, 4 Jan 1917; service-station attendant; p.w. 1 Jun 1941; escaped Jun 1941; returned to Egypt Apr1942; seconded to British unit for special service work, 1942; recaptured on Crete,May 1943.

(who was helping with an escape organisation on Crete), and got off the island in May 1943.

Swinburne stayed even longer, and had some amazing adventures. In one village he was served with a request to ‘move on’ when the locals became understandably alarmed at the prospect of reprisals. The local constable saw to his departure, politely but firmly, shaking hands on the outskirts of the township and wishing him a successful escape. For a time he joined a guerrilla band in the Lasithi Mountains. Eventually Swinburne and twenty others got away in a motor torpedo- boattorpedoboat, reaching Mersa Matruh at the end of August 1943.

Though wounded and unable to escape, Sergeant Walsh also had some remarkable experiences while a PW in Crete. At one stage a messenger came into the compound inquiring for Petrol Company men from Galatas.

‘Why?’ asked Walsh.

‘Never mind why’, was the answer. ‘The officer will say why.’

The officer wanted to know if Walsh had buried any Germans at Galatas. Walsh replied that his section had—quite a number. He was then asked if he knew anything about a German colonel, buried with four New Zealanders. On replying that he did, Walsh was put into a truck and taken to the German headquarters at Canea.

There a high-ranking officer told him through an interpreter: ‘We've brought you here to ask about a German colonel, buried with four New Zealanders in front of Galatos. His body has more than a hundred bullet-holes. How do you account for that?’

Walsh explained that the officer's parachute had caught in a tree, and his body had stayed there for forty-eight hours, dangling and spinning. No one could tell, from a distance, if the man were alive or dead, so everybody who passed that way took a pot at him.

The officer then said, ‘I am going to ask you a question, and I want you to tell me the truth, or I will make things very hot for you. Are you quite sure that this man was not put up against a wall and shot?’

Walsh replied, ‘I've never seen any German put up against a wall and shot. We don't do such things’.

‘Why was he buried with four New Zealanders? The Germans are your enemies.’

‘What difference does it make? During the action there were a lot of unburied dead from both sides. A bomb-crater was handy so our men used it.’

The officer finished by saying that he thought Walsh had answered truthfully. He added that if he could do the sergeant any small favour he would. He had already given Walsh ten cigarettes (which were like gold at that time), so our man spoke up:

‘A New Zealand corporal and I helped to bury our officer, Captain McDonagh, in a potato field, after he had been killed by a cannon-shell from a Messerschmitt, and was laid out by a Greek woman in her own home. But he had only about eighteen inches of earth over him. We would like him to receive a proper burial.’

The officer replied that at that moment burial squads, supervised by Germans, were digging up all the dead around Galatas and burying them in mass graves. He promised that he would have a cross made, inscribed with Captain McDonagh's name and other details. But whether this was ever done or not, Walsh does not know.

About two months later, he says, he and a lot of others were put aboard a filthy old coal-boat and battened down in the holds with little food or water, no medical attention for the wounded, and no sanitation. They remained under those conditions for about five days while their convoy, comprising similar boats carrying Greeks, and escorted by two Italian destroyers, nosed up through the Dodecanese Islands. Ships of the Royal Navy ‘skittled’ the convoy, and Walsh's boat turned back to Dratos. It stayed there for a day and a night, then sneaked across to Salonika.

CHAPTER 9 Libya, 1941

On3 June 1941 one officer

Lt E. A. Collins.

and 49 other ranks of the Divisional Petrol Company arrived back in Egypt, more than pleased to encounter once again the heat, flies, filth and general degradation of that benighted country. Relief was not unmixed with sombre feelings. The Company had lost 25 (including one officer) killed or died of wounds in Crete, and 62 wounded. Besides these, about 120 Divisional Petrol personnel were still somewhere on the island, in a total of over 12,000 Imperial troops left behind there.

The main task facing the Company now was to rebuild, retrain and re-equip. Some useful lessons were drawn from battle experience in the two previous campaigns. In Crete especially, the need for physical fitness, the ability to undertake long marches, and a sound knowledge of the use of infantry weapons had been clearly demonstrated. These lessons, learned the hard way, were emphasised in Petrol Company's subsequent training programmes.

On 13 May the 5th Reinforcements (from which the Company was largely rebuilt) had arrived at Suez, in a convoy which included some of the largest vessels then afloat, for example the giant Cunarders Queen Mary and Queen Elizabeth, which joined the convoy with Australian troops at Sydney. New Zealanders travelled in the Mauretania (carrying ASC reinforcements), the Aquitania, and the Nieuw Amsterdam—all now stripped of their luxury-line fittings and rigged out with the bare essentials for troop-carrying.

The voyage was uneventful, and uncomfortable. The ASC shared cramped quarters below decks, where they slept in canvas hammocks slung above the mess-tables. Some men slept on or under the tables. Rough seas early in the voyage caused much sickness. Harassed MOs faced long queues on the daily sick parades but had little to offer beyond aspirin tablets.

These were usually ejected, together with other stomach contents, as soon as they were swallowed. Grey-faced, the men then returned to duty.

Training aboard ship pressed on, interspersed with boat-drill, inspections, and the inevitable queuing for meals, beer, pay and pictures. Off duty the men read, wrote letters, played cards and other games—‘Housie’ (permitted), crown-and- anchor (forbidden), bridge, euchre, Slippery Sam, and the rest. Brighter moments came at the various ports of call: Sydney (no shore leave, but much interest in Our Bridge and Our ‘Arbour); Fremantle, with excursions to Perth (not on foot); Colombo, where a stay of nearly two weeks made a memorable interlude; and finally Port Tewfik.

Throughout the voyage the ships’ radios blared tidings that grew progressively worse, as our Division, pursuing its hopeless mission in Greece, was forced to evacuate and then to stand as best it could on Crete. In the Western Desert, too, German troops had appeared and, led by Rommel, were threatening Egypt. The reinforcements, some of them conscripted men, listened and wondered.

Arrival and settling-in at Base Camp followed much the same pattern as for earlier drafts. More progress had been made with camp construction, more amenities provided. But the ASC Fifths were not destined to linger yet amid Maadi's ‘pleasures and palaces’. Because of an outbreak of influenza they were confined for ten days at Garawi—a bleak desert camp providing the bare minima for human subsistence.

Meanwhile the mercury hovered around the hundred mark, and often went above it. Earlier in the month a record temperature of 119 degrees in the shade had been registered; but there was little shade at Garawi. Rations for a time were scant and unappetising. Surface pipes carrying water to the camp became too hot to touch; their liquid, heavily chlorinated, was anything but refreshing. So the Fifths went on wondering just what they had let themselves in for!

They soon found out. Garawi was followed by a short, sharp course at the ASC Base Training Depot, Maadi, under the loving care of Second-Lieutenant Chas Graham and Major John Hunter, both originally of the Petrol Company. On 18 June eighty-two were drafted out to the makings of a new Petrol Company at Helwan. Other drafts followed; and, with the Crete survivors back from their seven days' special leave, the reconstituted Company settled down to serious training.

At Helwan a new OC, Capt Forbes,

Maj G. S. Forbes, MBE, ED; Auckland; born Christchurch, 29 Jul 1908; insurance clerk; OC Pet Coy Jun 1941- Apr 1944.

who replaced Major Dickson on 26 June, grappled with the problems of reconstruction.

‘I had just come back from the ASC School where I had been an instructor’, Stan Forbes recalls, ‘when I was informed by the Colonel that I was to take over the Company. I went down to the unit to see what was there. I found nothing there, except the battered remnant from Crete. There was no orderly room, no records, no paycards, nothing. The first job was purely administrative—to set up a Headquarters to start to control something which was going to be rebuilt. Then the reinforcements began to arrive—and in the midst of it all I got German measles!’

Reorganisation brought the Company a number of new officers. On 28 June came Second-Lieutenant M. G. Browne,

Capt M. G. Browne, m.i.d.; Wellington; born South Africa, 28 Sep 1913; clerk.

fresh from OCTU and before that from 4 RMT. A keen cricketer and a New Zealand representative hockey player, ‘Brownie’ gave a boost to the Company's sporting life.

Lieutenant Hastie

Capt L. D. Hastie; Dunedin; born NZ 9 Jan 1905; salesman.

transferred in on 30 June, while three days later Staff-Sergeant A. S. Rusden and Corporal A. T. Rimmer marched out to NZASC Base Training, as candidates for OCTU. On 15 July Captain Forbes and Lieutenant Hastic were promoted acting major and captain respectively. Next day the Company gained Second-Lieutenant Bill Swarbrick,

Capt W. A. Swarbrick; born NZ 6 Dec 1917; clerk; died 12 May 1951.

a lively youngster also fresh from OCTU, and previously from Divisional Ammunition Company. On 19 July Sergeant Wallace

WO I E. E. Wallace; London; born Christchurch, 26 Aug 1901; motor proprietor.

(alias the ‘Black Tracker’) marched in as acting CSM.

While all this was going on, drivers and NCOs, though lacking vehicles, were kept hard at work. Training included night route marches along the Nile and over the moonlit desert—for ten miles on 7 July, 15 miles on 9 July, and 20 miles the next night. And the farther the troops pushed on into the desert the surer they were to encounter Abdul—or Ahmed— rising wraithlike from among the sand-dunes to offer ice-cream, bottles of gaziz, or juicy water-melons. Such fare, though forbidden, was often bought, and eagerly consumed, by the perspiring ‘askaris’.

Camped next at Mahfouz, the rebuilt Company paraded, practised musketry, mounted guard, learned to read maps. Most training was done between daybreak and noon, with a compulsory siesta in the early afternoon, followed by recreational training. With the help of Ken May, who had left Petrol Company and was now a one-pipper in Divisional Ammunition Company, a gas chamber was rigged up in a disused cookhouse, airproofed with army blankets. The officers laid on genuine WD tear-gas, and through this our lads, muffled in their respirators, went one by one, cursing and panting.

The idea was to test the efficiency of the men's anti-gas equipment. But so small and hot was the room, and so heavy the concentration of gas, that the fumes stung the skins of the sweating soldiery, who, thinking they were encountering mustard gas, hopped about in great style. Such stunts, however, helped to break the monotony, as did the afternoon sports activities run by Maurie Browne and other officers. These now included Second-Lieutenant Bill Washbourn,

Maj W. A. G. Washbourn, m.i.d.; Napier; born Richmond, 18 Jul 1915; accountant; OC Pet Coy Jul 1944-Feb 1945; wounded 3 Jun 1944.

marched in on 27 July.

For MT training there were lectures, and, in Workshops Section, practical work such as brake and steering overhauls. Until 31 July, however, the Company's MT was largely imaginary. On that date a party under Captain Torbet

Maj C. M. Torbet, OBE, ED, m.i.d.; Auckland; born Wanganui, 19 Dec 1909; motor engineer.

collected from Tel-el-Kebir ten Matchless motor-cycles, ten Royal Enfields, one workshops vehicle, one stores vehicle, and various technical kits. The Company's mileage for the month was: motor-cycles 4609, trucks 45, total 4654—a far cry from the tremendous totals notched by this and the other ASC companies in days ahead.

By July the weather was still extremely hot and, with the Nile rising rapidly, becoming very muggy. ‘The mosquitoes are also putting in an appearance’, one soldier wrote home,‘and I got chewed to Hell the other night’. That month, and in August, there was marked interest in the Divisional casualty lists, now making their appearance on camp notice-boards. The