Their Kiwi Home

As another ANZAC day looks back on the service of our men and women in uniform who served in foreign lands, it’s timely to also recall the services of those who came from foreign lands to our shores. Now a new book casts an intriguing light on a significant role of the United States Marine Corps in Aotearoa New Zealand during WW2.

Our New Zealand Home is author Mark Pacey’s fifth publication and charts the arrival, training and ‘rest and recuperation’ process of the Marines who arrived here in 1942. They were homed in various bases throughout the lower North Island, including sizeable Kāpiti camps at Paekākāriki, Camp Russell (now Queen Elizabeth Park), and Camp McKay (now Whareroa Farm); nearly 20,000 men were stationed in the area and the forested Kāpiti hills became training grounds for jungle warfare and its beaches the settings for amphibious landings.

“They were here ostensibly for R’n’R, rest and recuperation,” says Mark, “and some of the units, like those that had been on Guadalcanal, really needed it. But they were also here for training in jungle warfare, and - more importantly for Kiwisto bolster our defences against a possible Japanese invasion.”

For while Australia had chosen to withdraw its troops from the European and African theatres to defend its home soil, New Zealand opted to stick to the original game plan and remain to keep the pressure on Germany and Italy. The arrival of the Marines was therefore something of a reassurance for us - just as it was a reprieve for them.

One New Zealander quoted in the book notes that, “We were ably protected on our coast by the Legion of Frontiersmen who had a .303 [rifle] every three miles,” and while Mark notes this was said in a joking manner, the statement was quite accurate. “There were long stretches of New Zealand coastline that had no protection whatsoever,” he says, “the Kāpiti Coast is a prime example, so the Americans, who had all the latest equipment, were made to feel more than welcome!”

To prepare them for life in New Zealand a booklet, Meet New Zealand, was produced by the Department of Internal Affairs, though it’s suitably understated Kiwi style must have raised a few eyebrows in the brash young Marines:

“Welcome! When we say that we mean it. Those of us who have met Americans before have liked them (or most of them), and we hope you Americans will like us (or most of us). We know you’re here to do a job of work and that you want to get on with it, but when you get liberty, we want to meet you and know you and we want you to meet and know us, and not merely on the streets but in our homes. You won’t find subways, skyscrapers, or night life. You will find that when you break the crust, we’re much like the folks back home. New Zealand is a small country, but we like to think our hearts are reasonably big.”

A later section of the booklet was devoted to New Zealand slang at the time, as it was felt that terms like “crook”, “lollies”, and “argue the toss” might be confusing to the American visitors, so a translation was provided.

By and large, relations between the Marines and locals went well, with the welcome mat being rolled out to this decidedly different culture that came with thrilling dance music, snappy uniforms and, well, pretty much everything. Rationing was in full effect in New Zealand, with most of our produce exported to Britain and the war effort, and imports heavily restricted, as this extract from Mark’s book poignantly shows:

“We used to treasure every rag. Any linen you could get a hold of you would make handkerchiefs out of it, things like that, there was just nothing. The shops were just bare, anything they had was rationed and under the counter. I remember when we were married and we were able to get two hospital blankets, that’s all we could get ... otherwise you waited and waited in queues for everything of course, for your tea, your sugar and everything else, but we managed.”

With America’s industrial might behind them, the Marines were somewhat better off, and were happy to share.

“We used to have the Americans going past in lorries,” one local recalled, “and I can remember one lorry ran off the road and burst its benzine tank, and the Americans yelled out, ‘Bring some containers.’ Of course petrol was scarce, and we took tins and that and we had a lovely lot of petrol, I’ll never forget that.”

One Marine also recalls a method of fire starting that would have appalled Kiwis. “First thing in the morning when we got up, we’d fill the old stove full of wood and coal and so on and toss in a heap of kerosene and throw a match in it and there would be a horrible explosion and the ringing of explosions all over the camp and then we would go out for a run and by the time we got back of course the fire would be roaring and be nice and warm.”

The Marines’ generosity stretched to more than benzine: they had chocolate, tinned fruit and all sorts of rare delicacies that they often handed out to locals, and in return locals would happily take the Marines to their favoured fishing and hunting grounds. “The New Zealanders knew the best spots and had the gear; the Marines had the transport and the gas. It was the perfect union,” says Mark.

“The New Zealanders knew the best spots and had the (fishing) gear; the Marines had the transport and the gas. It was the perfect union.”

“Hunting was a great pastime for the Americans, and they were very enthusiastic. Sometimes a little too enthusiastic: ‘We would have a whole string of Marines coming out in their jeeps,’ one Kiwi recalled, ‘and they would have machine guns and all the automatic rifles, and they said, ‘There are rabbits out here we understand.’ I really had to hold them back from shooting a sheep. They wanted to shoot everything that moved. They had the grog with them too, they had all sorts of things.”

All Good Things Had To Come To An End

however, and seemingly overnight the camps vanished as the tide of war turned and the Marines were deployed to the looming battle for the Japanese home islands. But lasting friendships had been formed, and in some cases romantic relationships that grew into marriage, with many young Kiwi women becoming brides in America and several Marines returning to marry and become Kiwis.

For most however, the heady days of having the Yanks in the neighbourhood would simply shift into sporadic letters from the front. “Over the coming months the letters would continue,” writes Mark, “but some of them would suddenly stop. It was a terrible reality that in war, young men die. In some letters back to New Zealand, they would make such hopeful comments like enjoying quiet periods when they “have time to sit and think of all the good people, steaks, and beers we left behind in New Zealand.”

The Marines left more than that behind though; they also left a strong impression on the people of Kāpiti and the other bases that were their Kiwi homes, and a connection that lives on to this day. And thanks to Mark Pacey’s latest book, more and more Kiwis are learning just how important that connection once was.

The Kāpiti US Marines Trust have restored several Marines huts and they are well worth a visit; see www.marinenz.com for details.

Below: Memorial Day at US Marines Memorial in Queen Elizabeth Park Images credit Kāpiti US Marines Trust