Glorious Deeds of Australasians in the Great War

by E. C. Buley

They came over a spur of the hills, yelling with excitement, and seeing in the dim light that a trench before them was occupied by armed men, rushed upon it, shouting their war cry. The men before them were the men of Auckland, who at once recognized the war cries of the Maoris. Fortunately the average New Zealander rather prides himself upon possessing a fair smattering of the Maori tongue, and this knowledge came in very handy as the Maoris charged down upon their own friends.

The Auckland men shouted at them what phrases of Maori they could summon up in such an emergency, and the Maori charge was stayed on the very parapet of the trench itself.

The beginning of that fierce charge of Maoris, when they swept every Turk out of their path, was described to me by a New Zealander who was present, in the following words:—

"We lay under cover in the dark waiting for the word to go. Every man had his bayonet fixed and his magazine empty. The work before us had to be done with the cold steel. The Turks had three lines of trenches on the hill slope opposite.

"Suddenly I became aware of a stir among the Maoris on my left; I was right up against them. Next to me was a full-blooded Maori chief, a young fellow of sixteen stone, as big and powerful as a bullock. I played Rugby against him once and tried to tackle him; it was as much use as trying to stop a rushing elephant. He is a lineal descendant of fighting Rewi, the Maori chief from whom all the legends descend.

"You know the story of Rewi. Once he and his tribe were surrounded in a Pah by a force of white men who outnumbered them three to one. The whites had got between them and the stream of water on the top of the hill, which is unfair fighting according to Maori rules. Then they sent a message to Rewi bidding him surrender. He replied, 'Ka Whawhai Tonu, Aké Aké Aké.' ('We fight on and on; for ever and for ever and for ever.') 'Then send away the women and children,' was the next suggestion. 'The women fight too,' says brave old Rewi. An hour later the Maoris rushed out of the Pah with Rewi at the head of them and before the astonished whites knew what was doing had cut a way through and escaped.

"This descendant of Rewi's is a different sort of chap. He holds two good university degrees and is one of the finest speakers in New Zealand. Not much more than a year ago I saw him in a frock coat and a silk hat, with creases in his pants that would have cut cheese, telling a lot of bush Maoris of the virtues of cleanliness and the nobility of hard work.

"But now he had dressed for the occasion in a pair of running shoes and shorts which covered about eight inches of the middle of him. I could see the whites of his eyes gleaming and his brown skin glistening with perspiration in the dim light. His head was moving from side to side and his lips were twitching. From time to time he beat the earth softly with his clenched fist.

"Then I got the swing of it. I suppose the 500 Maoris picked me up into their silent war song. For I know the words of the Haka well, and though they could not dance it they were beating out the measure of it with their fists on the ground. There they lay, and after each soft thump I could feel that their bodies strained forward like dogs on a leash. They caught me up in their madness and I longed to be at it. I thumped the ground with them, and prayed to be up and dancing, or out and fighting.