More about life in New Zealand during World War 2 - stringent defence
measures
As the Japanese advanced south in the Pacific and even attacked Darwin the
invasion of New Zealand seemed a serious possibility, and defence measures
were more stringent.
Darkened cities
Windows had to be blacked out so that they didn't show even a chink of
light.
My memories are of dimly lit streets. Tom explained how it was done.
"Street lighting was 'browned out' by placing a large 'tin can' around the
bulbs so that they shone down only. The bulbs heated more than they were
designed for and their life was shortened.
"Cars driven at night were required to have headlamps 'dipped', with the
right hand lamp turned well downwards and towards the left. The left hand
lamp was not to show at all."
Preparation for enemy attacks
Trenches
Trenches were dug in city squares and in Christchurch along the banks of
the Avon to act as shelters in the event of an air raid. Gun emplacements
were built at strategic points, such as on the hills overlooking Lyttelton
and Otago Harbours to fire on enemy ships entering the harbour. Tank traps
were built at strategic points to prevent enemy vehicles approaching the
cities. Barbed wire defences were built along all beaches.
Caverns at Cashmere
The area at the foot of the Cashmere Hills near Christchurch where the
Pincess Margaret Hospital now stands was clear land. The house and the
estate owned by the Cracroft Wilson family was commandeered by the U.S.
army. In this area tunnels and large caverns were built under the hill.
These caverns were to be used as a military headquarters and communication
centre in the event of a Japanese attack which in 1942 seemed a real
possibility. Those working on the project were sworn to absolute secrecy.
Railways were built for access and for the removal of waste soil. The
largest cavern was 7 metres high, 10 metres wide and 30 metres long.
Prestressed concrete was used to line the caverns. The officers were to
come down from the house by stairs while others were to enter through the
access tunnels. As the army was vacating the beautiful Cracroft Wilson
House fire broke out and it was burnt to the ground.
After eighteen months the danger of invasion seemed to have receded and the
work was stopped. The owner of the land eventually had the entrances
sealed and they were rediscovered in 1987. They are now the site of a ring
laser experiment in which Professor G. E. Stedman of the University of
Canterbury is a partner. It is thought to be the world's largest and most
precise ring laser gyroscope.
In Heritage Week in October these caverns are usually opened for public
tours. If you are interested watch the papers or inquire at the
Christchurch City Council for information.
Traffic signs to mislead invaders
Traffic signs on roads on the hills were to be changed so that invading
forces would drive into streets which led only to precipitous banks with no
safety barrier.
Preparations at home
Anna has a vivid memory of the defence measures at her home. "In Hokitika
in the early 1940s there were a few sand-bags in the garage in case bombs
fell near the house. Sand was to be thrown over the flames. There was an
air-raid shelter at my Auckland home - a residence provided by the Health
Department as my father was a doctor. The shelter was partially dug into
the ground and it had a curved mound-like roof. It was at the bottom of
the vegetable garden beyond the rows of vegetables and was large enough to
accommodate perhaps six to eight people.
Air raid drills at school
"I also remember air raid drills at school in the early 1940s. We were
instructed to make for cover near trees or bushes rather than staying in
open ground and to fling ourselves face down. We followed this to the
letter and scattered at speed in all directions across the playground,
getting up from the ground again when the word was given. The instruction
if we were indoors was to get under furniture."
Helen O remembers being told to take chewing gum and cotton wool to school.
"When Sister told us there was an 'air raid' we took the chewing gum and
the cotton wool from our desks and had to show them - intact! - to Sister.
Then in complete silence we followed her through the side door of the
convent to a long corridor. We lay down flat on our faces in a long line,
held our cotton wool and chewing gum and waited in perfect silence until
the signal was given to return, silently, to class. Woe betide anyone
whose chewing gum was eaten or cotton wool was missing!"
School Cadets trained during peacetime and wartime
James recalls his vivid memories of School Cadets.
"They were a significant feature of our secondary school life. We were
issued khaki uniforms with forage caps, jackets, shorts and socks, some of
which were very comfortable to wear especially in the summer. The socks
had no feet in them and another pair had to be worn underneath them.
Doubtless this saved darning up holes, but did not lead to much comfort.
Most days we drilled in school uniform during breaks between classes and
once a week we had to wear the khaki uniform. For this buttons had to be
well polished, the shoes clean and the socks at the prescribed level.
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A cadet in uniform
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"Before I left school war had broken out and many of those who had drilled
with us went off to fight in one or other of the services. Many of the
staff also served. They had been our Officers in Cadets and had
commissions which were valid in the army. It was not long before the
Rector would have to announce at morning assembly the names of boys who had
been killed in action or wounded.
"We took part in Anzac Day parades accompanied by the bugle band. Anzac
Day became more intense in those days when war was once more threatening or
had begun. We had our own celebration in the school hall which was a
memorial to the hundreds of old boys who had been killed or wounded in the
Great War (World War 1). Its walls were covered in long brass plaques
containing their names which were solemnly read out by two prefects during
the service each year.
A time of grieving and shock
"Many homes had large maps of the world placed on kitchen walls upon which
were traced the disasters of the time, later changing to the triumphs of
victory," Jim recalls. "Our lives were marked by news of our young New
Zealand men who had either voluntarily gone or later been drafted to 'fight
for democracy' and their often tragic fate. At school assembly we heard
the headmaster read the names of his ex-pupils who had been killed in
action and we witnessed the tears of distress at the futility of war. Then
at church we learned of the death of our Lifeboy leader who had been
killed. What sad times these were, particularly searing our young
minds!"
More about life in New Zealand during World War 2 next week
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