Growing up in New Zealand 1925-1950, Part 14

Part 14 – At Home In New Zealand During World War 2 Dorothy – 09/03/01


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.

A cadet in uniform

A cadet in uniform

“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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