The national memorial service for the First World War must include the colonials who fought, argues Murray Rowlands
All the publicity surrounding Gordon Brown’s announcement of a national memorial service to honour those who fought in the First World War seems to assume that all the veterans were from the British Isles. In fact, thousands of troops from Canada, South Africa India, the West Indies and Australia and New Zealand were also involved as well. New Zealand, my home country, contributed the largest percentage of men eligible to fight of any combatant country. Out of a population of less than a million, nearly 20,000 were killed and many more were wounded.
While much has been written about the Anzac landing in Gallipoli, far less is known about the New Zealanders’ sacrifice at Passchendaele in October 1917. After the relative success of the attack of October 3, a further assault on October 10, launched at the insistence of Field Marshal Douglas Haig, was an unmitigated disaster. Hundreds of New Zealanders lost their lives.
Following this, the New Zealand Division was finally withdrawn from the Ypres area early in 1918. Their morale was desperately low after the mauling they had received and yet their commander maintained a regime of training he considered relevant to the prevailing conditions in northern France, producing some of the best troops on the Western Front.
In March, the great German offensive, Operation Michael, forced British troops into full retreat. What happened next is well documented in Glyn Harper’s book, Dark Journey. After days of retreat and the likelihood that the Germans would capture the crucial rail network of Amiens, the men of the New Zealand Division were rushed to the front. By the March 21, a four-mile gap had opened in the British lines at Hemel in the Ancre Valley through which the Germans were about to pour. There was every prospect that the British would have to retreat to the Channel ports. In other words, the scene was set for a Dunkirk-style evacuation in 1918.
In order for the New Zealanders to reach the front in time, they were forced to undertake a nightmare journey from their base into the Ancre Valley. This involved them being crammed into carriages designed for either eight horses or 40 men. As they travelled forward, details of where they were to go changed repeatedly. However, the destination was finally settled as a line between Pusieux au Mont and Hemel.
Rail and road transport took them only a small part of the journey. It was then a forced march of 30 miles without their packs, blankets and greatcoats. They had to carry 220 rounds of ammunition, extra ammunition for the Lewis Guns and three days supply of water
Everything was designed so they could go into action immediately. For the next two weeks, they had to live, sleep and fight in their uniforms. Along the way they, encountered a continual stream of retreating British soldiers and swarms of desperate refugees. After 36 hours of marching, many collapsed by the side of the road and were left to catch up with the main group later. In the absence of proper accommodation, some of the men slept in trees or huddled together in a desperate effort to keep warm because they had been forced to jettison their blankets.
They were going to attempt to stem the advance of 75 divisions of German soldiers. They were up against force that was larger than the entire population of their own country. Their commanders were worried they would be virtually swallowed up by the vast columns of Germans.
The New Zealand artillery were still miles behind them and so, in their first skirmishes with the Germans, they had to rely on the element of surprise. So confident of victory were the Germans that they marched forward in serried ranks with their bands playing. But they encountered serious resistance and were decimated by New Zealand rifle and machine gun fire. Within a few days an unbroken line had been achieved with the help of Australian troops. Despite fierce pressure, that line held and the German advance was checked. Not only were important defensive positions established, but the New Zealand Division now was in the vanguard of Haig’s offensive from June onwards in which the Germans were finally defeated.
It should be remembered that conscription did not come into force in New Zealand until the end of 1916, so most of these men were volunteers. In contrast, Gurkha soldiers from Nepal are mercenaries who have been recruited by Britain for imperial purposes and for peacekeeping in modern times.
Rightly or wrongly, most of these New Zealand men were imbued with the desire to defend what they referred to as the “Mother Country”. In order for New Zealand to play such a significant part in the war, anyone not willing to support the overriding military objective could be subject to brutal treatment. Conscientious objectors were marched in chains to the front lines in France. They were not much better treated when New Zealand committed its all to Britain in 1939, with the then Prime Minister saying: “Where Britain goes, we go”.
The sad thing is that it is now easier for the relatives of the Gurkhas to enter Britain than the grandchildren of those New Zealanders who played a major role in saving the country in 1918. There is some evidence that, even during the war itself, the British chose to ignore the contribution made by the men and women from their colonies to their survival. Now any ceremonies recognising sacrifice in the Great War must include the contribution of soldiers from the Commonwealth.
Murray Rowlands is currently writing a novel centred on his great uncle’s experiences in France during the First World War
