Army Picnic

NZ Garrison On Norfolk Is.

DESCENDANTS of Fletcher Christian and his companions in the historic mutiny on the “Bounty” in the South Seas, more than a century and a-half ago, are hosts to New Zealanders on garrison duty in Norfolk Island. From the first landing to the last farewell, many a soldier will remember that dot in the Pacific, 800 miles east of Austra lia, for the whole-hearted and sincere welcome of its people. If the Norfolk Island interlude teaches us nothing else, it will have been a practical lesson in

hospitality.

Boats going ashore were met with the islanders’ cheerful “What-a-way you” (a greeting meaning “How are you?”) and offers of fruit. Many tasted the Norfolk orange during his first few minutes on land. The welcome stays and the sojourn is characterised by an open door to nearly every island home.

Embarrassment is felt by some—for in return for home-cooked meals of supreme quality and gifts of bananas, oranges, grapefruit, passionfruit, persimmons and

guavas, the soldier has little to offer but his appreciative thanks.

To an island depleted by evacuees to Australia, the garrison brought new life.

Entertainments there were none and the dances held on occasions are as much an event for the New Zealander as for the islander. Invariably, now, every dance is an “excuse me,” as the normal attend ance of 200 comprises usually no more than 25 women. If a couple moves half way round the floor without being sep arated it is an accomplishment.

However, it was not long before con certs were produced by Army personnel for the entertainment of the troops.

Personal invitations from troops are per mitted to serve the purpose of returning to the islanders their many kindnesses and to every concert our invitations are widely accepted.

It is difficult to imagine a Saturday night in Norfolk, when everyone turns out to an Army production, unless you have seen it. A paddock sloping gently down to an open-air stage is the ampitheatre.

Crowds that would gladden a fight pro moter’s heart flock in, in whatever trans port is available.

Our brass band is always the centre of attraction. Once an Army picnic, which included a trip round the island, was organised for the school children

THE flagpole on the top of Mount Pitt ± is intimately connected with the lives of every Norfolk Islander. First thing in the morning he glances to the top of the mountain, two or three times during the day and again as dusk falls.

For a flag at the masthead means a ship in sight. It also means much more. Pos sibly no ship has anchored off Norfolk for weeks. It means fresh supplies, mails, friends and relatives, visitors perhaps news, a sign that the island after all has some contact with the outside world. Not infrequently, supply ships from Australia are three and four months apart.

S a ther on the shore when the boat anchors and tough, wiry men man the whaleboats which carry the pas sengers and supplies ashore. The des cendants of the Pitcairners know every mood of the waves and how to defy them. See them at the helm, and you know you are safe in the roughest of seas.

The flagpole holds the same signifi cance for the New Zealander, for a flag at its head means possibly a ship from the south with rations and mail.

After the ship has unloaded the island returns to its normal solitude.

One result of the occupation has been a growth of tearooms, to provide a genuine demand. Four operated in a very short time.

Unaccustomed to entering shops, to be met with negative answers at almost every request, we required a little time to absorb the fact that infrequent ship ments and strict rationing for a small community could not cope with demands such as are often made on the four or five storekeepers, some of whom are in business in a very small way only. Con sequently, the soldier’s money goes home it is of little use to him.

A DREAMY place—Norfolk; its life un hurried, its people unlike any on earth. A mixture of Tahitian and English, the islanders talk a language all their own in their homes, a quaint mingling of two tongues with a touch of West County about it. They neverthe less speak good English.

After our experience in other islands of the Pacific and certain countries of the Middle East, where the inhabitants make the best of an Army’s presence, their gifts of fruit and other gestures are unusual and indicative of the very real generosity of friendship and hospitality offered.

Occupation of Norfolk by the Pitcairn ers dates back to 1856, when Pitcairn Island was evacuated owing to famine and drought. Eight family names— Buffett, Christian, Quintal, McCoy, Nobbs, Adams, Fletcher and Young— were held by the 194 persons who landed to establish their home' on Norfolk. A few years later 46 forsook the superior facilities and opportunities offered and returned to Pitcairn, but the remainder stayed to build up to-day’s community, in which the names mentioned figure prominently.

We shall remember the tall pines, pin pointed against the sky, as the transport approached; the grim prison ruins at Kingston: and the smiling children double-banked astride a horse on their way to school. We’ll not forget the deli cate-tasting Norfolk dishes, of which sour cream on fried fish was typical. Above all, we’ll remember the islanders—a

grand people!-

W.M.E.

Lieut.-Col. J. B. K. Taylor, Commander of the Fiji Battalion serving overseas, who was wounded by a Japanese bomb on Bougainville, was still in hospital at the end of February, but was reported to be greatly improved.