From Pup to Provost

by 815647 L/CPL M.J Macnee

Towards the end of 1944 I worked in a shearing gang near Masterton to help overcome the labour shortage created by men going off to the war. For the first time with money in my pocket there was no going back to school and my aspirations of becoming a lawyer rapidly disappeared. I moved to Wellington to work in a wool store at Kaiwharawhara on the outskirts of Wellington to learn wool classing. From where I worked I could see the troop ships coming up the harbour after returning from the war. This was an exciting period in my life and I marvelled at the treatment the returning soldiers received as they were idolised and given special treatment by the public. The opportunity to wear a uniform happened when the government called for volunteers to go to Japan in 1946. I enlisted as a twenty year old after persuading a friend's mother to lie to a Justice Of The Peace and say I was aged twenty. As I was late getting my application away I missed the first draft so the following year when more volunteers were required I re-enlisted claiming to be aged twenty one.

Imagine the excitement of a seventeen year old going into camp and receiving half a crown a day more than a twenty year old and allowed the luxury of entering the wet canteen, something denied twenty year olds. On feedback from a first draft friend, I was advised to become a cook or a provost, as in his opinion, they were the perk units to be in. After three weeks in Papakura I was posted to the cook house to be trained as a cook without completing my basic training. This period was spent "sweating my butt off" every weekend cooking large rolls of beef and other duties while the more experienced and shrewder cooks arranged weekend leave to attend Elleslie to watch the races or Carlaw Park to see the league players in action. Suffering this slavery for a couple of months I did a moan to the RSM stating I was being unfairly treated and for my effort I was shunted into the provosts for training. This happened after appearing before a court of enquiry for having lost my rifle. Obviously somebody stole my rifle and the police questioned my parents about its loss for some years and to the best of my knowledge it has not been seen to this day.

Going to Japan and staying just one night at Chofu I was posted to the Field Punishment Centre at Yamaguchi. After being there for four or five weeks, one night while on duty my left fibula was broken and my ankle was badly sprained and set in plaster. This happened when a corporal decided he wanted the straw palliasse I was having a kip on until my next shift two hours later. The nasty man grabbed the mattress up ending it and bundling me onto the floor. I awoke somewhat agitated and gave him his pedigree which resulted in us having an exchange of blows. At this stage I was comfortably holding my own when he charged me and I was sent flying backwards out the window doing a back flip onto loose metal. If it had not been for the diving skills learnt at the Petone Swimming Pool in earlier years I could be telling this story from heaven with a broken neck.

The next couple of months I spent lounging around the provost barracks at the Yamaguchi camp being in and out of the Australian Hospital next to the camp until the plaster was removed from my leg. From there I was posted to the Provost detachment at Uda which I found real cushy having our own hot pool and it was like living in first class Japanese Hotel. My duties at Uda consisted of foot patrols at Yamaguchi, checking soldiers to see if they were correctly dressed and seeing they did not enter out of bounds areas. This was done to prevent soldiers fraternizing with the local street girls and thus preventing the spread of venereal disease. We also had to watch for anyone engaged in the black market, something nearly every soldier did, regardless of rank, during his time with the occupation force. I personally did not apprehend anyone for this activity, however I was full of guilt when I sneaked along the back streets of Chofu and Yamaguchi with my pillowcase size "issue bag" full of soap, chocolate, cigarettes, nugget and other commodities needed by the locals.

The time spent at Uda was most pleasant and very enjoyable and I liked every minute of it. I was one of those chosen to go to Tokyo for the guard that was mounted when Princess Elizabeth and Prince Philip were married. The guard was formed with men from each unit serving in Japan. We assembled at Ozuki spending four days doing "bullring" drills before spending two days and a night on a train to Tokyo. Talk about a slow boat to China! Nothing could have been slower and more boring than that particular journey. I am certain we would have made faster time had we acquired a local "Junk" and sailed up the coast to Tokyo. The parade was a massive affair staged just outside the Imperial Palace grounds. There were some American units on parade along with us and General Douglas McArthur was on the saluting base with General Robertson, the Commonwealth Brigade Commander. I was one of the fortunate ones to have my name drawn from a ballot and was invited to the British Embassy after the conclusion of the parade. At the embassy I mixed with top brass and their wives enjoying scrumptious food and all the alcohol I wished to guzzle. The wives and other ladies present all spoke with a "plum in their mouth" trying to impress us young guys, smoking cigarettes with the assistant of long cigarette holders fashionable at the time. I have little memory of the evening eventually being dragged off into the night in a sozzled state by some of my mates who helped themselves to a keg of beer from the embassy and then had to do some fast talking "to save their bacon" when questioned by American Provosts who were on patrol in a jeep.

While at Uda I was sent to Hagi to assist the local Police during the visit of Emperor Hirohito. As Hagi is the nearest point to Korea, the authorities were concerned for the safety of the Emperor and were worried dynamite may have been used to blow up the railway line. Those days the Koreans just loathed the Japanese for the way they had been subjugated and the Emperor was a prime target for their anger. Several from my unit were on an earlier train to check the safety of the track and arrived safely at Hagi as did the Emperor's train. I was on guard at the railway station when the royal train arrived and could not believe the way the Japanese received their Emperor, continually bowing and worshiping him and shouting banzai banzai (hurrah hurrah) for a period of about fifteen minutes. The Emperor stood on a special platform at the back of the train, in morning dress, waving his top hat to the densely packed crowd. After about thirty minutes the train left to continue its journey on through the Yamaguchi prefecture and I believe this was the first time the Emperor had been to this area. Later in the day we were invited to the Hagi Police Station to join in festivities, and I well remember chewing on dried octopus, a so-called local delicacy. Sad to say the uncooked octopus didn't do anything for me, but I did get a buzz from the hot "sake" the local police provided.

At the conclusion of the war many people wondered why Hirohito was not tried as a war criminal. Having witnessed the way the Japanese idolized their Emperor it was plain to see why the Allies used Hirohito to help establish a democratic Japan gradually taking away the feudal system that existed. Without Hirohito's help it could have been years before this was accomplished.

I was posted to the Ozuki camp when the new barracks opened and spent four months there before returning home on the first trip back to New Zealand that the Westralia made. It is interesting to note we had a part day at Langemak Bay, New Guinea, while the ship took on provisions etc. I will always remember going a couple of miles into the jungle by Jeep then having a good swim in a hot volcanic pool. A collection of pools covered an area the size of a rugby ground and were separated by clusters of trees. The pools were not overly deep and looked absolutely beautiful in the jungle setting with the crystal clear water rising to the surface in effervescent bubbles. This was one of the highlights of going to Japan as was the singing of the Fijians when we left Suva aboard the Dunera. I will always remember the sight of the Fijians dressed in their bright coloured clothes, packed shoulder to shoulder standing on the wharf decking and wondering why the wharf did not collapse with all the weight it was bearing.

Leaving Auckland for Japan on the Dunera we experienced moderate swells with the ship rolling from side to side until we reached Suva. From Suva to the Inland Sea of Japan, the water was very calm and it was most relaxing to see the sunlight rippling on the sea making for a peaceful setting. I spent a lot of the journey leaning on the ships rail fascinated by the antics of the flying fish, some gliding a fair distance over the water before disappearing again. On board we were detailed duties and one of mine was "mess orderly" which along with other jobs I was responsible for collecting the units daily bread ration from the ship's bakery. Imagine how I felt, already squeamish with the motion of the ship, and arriving at the bakery to see the freshly made bread covered with mouse droppings thick as hair on a dog's back. Stunned beyond belief I said to the Indian Baker "what am I supposed to do with this bread?" as I was worried what my mates may do to me if the bread was delivered to them in such a state. Unconcerned the baker handed me a brush and suggested I brush off the droppings before taking the bread back to my mates. That experience affected me to such an extent I could not eat bread without cutting off the top crust until well into my forties. Another "hang up" from Japan was that I could not eat apricots until just a few years ago. Almost every night I used to buy a two pound tin of apricots from our canteen and gobble them up for supper. They cost nine pence a tin and rather than waste any I nearly always consumed the lot. There were times when I could not eat all the apricots fearing I would be sick by eating just one more apricot. Owing to our situation we had no way of storing the apricots once the tin was opened and I was always reluctant to waste any, as I am of Scottish extraction and did continually hear my mother's words ringing in my ears, with the expression "waste not want not".

Morrie Macnee
October 2000