33192 Sergeant David Gordon Swan 19/6/1879-26/3/1918

David Swan was a tailor in Auckland when he enlisted in the army, which is why a Dunedin-born man was enrolled in the Auckland Infantry Regiment.

He was born at Gateshead in England shortly before the family emigrated to New Zealand.  He enlisted in the army in August of 1916 and was promoted to Corporal about a year later, attending specialist training courses for his new rank.  He made Sergeant on March 19, 1918.

His military records show he was killed on the night of the 26/27 March.  This was during the height of the first phase of the German Spring Offensive.  On their way to the line Swan's Battalion, the 1st Auckland detrained at the little railway station of Hangest sur Somme - a familiar sight for the veterans of the battles on 1916 - in the small hourse of March 25.  The 1st managed to get on board the trucks heading for their next destination, beyond Amiens and eventually bivouacked at Dernancourt.  The 2nd Battalion had to walk.

That morning the 1st Aucklands tramped towards the front - it was the turn of the 2nd Battalion to be taken by truck.  As the Regimental History puts it "One thing only was certain, and that was that where the march stopped there the fighting would begin. Men were desperately tired and footsore, yet scarcely anyone dropped out."  The signs of activity were reached - artillery, a few wandering soldiers looking for their units, a squadron of light tanks.  The Aucklands were being marched into the gap torn in British lines by the advancing Germans.  They were joined by the New Zealand Rifle Brigade and soon were in action.

The German forces had dug in, waiting for their artillery and supplies to catch up with them and glad of a rest from a stunning advance.  The 1st advanced up the Serre Road, past a couple of 18 pounders which had been making a fighting retreat for the past four days.  Three hundred yards more and two German machine guns opened up.  The Battalion deployed, began to advance and began to take casualties.  What followed was a busy few days of action, best read in the Official History here.  The Germans were victorious but were running out of steam.  Behind their lines the looting of British store (army rum was a favourite) and general disorder was beginning to slow the Offensive.

During that confused time, Sergeant David Swan was killed in action.  He was 39.

Southern Cemetery, Dunedin, Allan Steel photo

9/336 L/Corporal John Stanley Clark, 3/3/1893-25/3/1918.

John Stanley Clark began his war in the Otago Mounted Regiment and ended it mounted on a bicycle.  At least, that was his unit when he died.  He left Port Chalmers in the first transports for the war on October 16, 1914.  He went with his Regiment to Gallipoli and was admitted to the hospital on Mudros Island in July 1915. 

Before enlistment, John was a partner in a local Waitati grocery store.  He began the partnership in 1913 with James Jenkins but the war intervened and James went bankrup in 1915.
 His service

He was part of the 2nd Battalion of the Otago Infantry Regiment when it attack German positions on September 15, 1916 in the Battle of the Somme.  Losses from German machine guns were very heavy, almost all of the 126 men of the OIR who were killed that day were from the 2nd Battalion.

After the battles of the Somme, on November 14, John was promoted to Lance Corporal (unpaid).  Presumably this was part of recovering from the Regiment's losses and preparing for the arrival of reinforcements.  Of the roughly fifteen thousand NZ troops in the field, just over ten thousand were killed, wounded or missing after the Battle and experienced soldiers were needed in higher ranks for the field training of the coming reinforcements.

John's military records show a number of hospital admissions for illness during his period of service.  War fatigue and illness might have been the reason for his being transferred to the NZ Cyclists Battalion in February of 1918.  The Battalion was formed to perform the duties of mounted infantry but on two wheels rather than four legs.  Like their horse-mounted equivalents, they weren't much use in static, trench warfare.  While waiting for the Germans to attack they were being used for second line duties, digging trenches and burying telephone cables against the shelling to come.

Waitati Cemetery, Allan Steel photo.

"As usual the Battalion supplied a number of men for traffic control duties in forward areas. This work was strenuous and responsible, and during March all forward road junction received particular attention from the enemy long range guns, the post in YPRES being well "straffed."' Whilst on duty there Private J. S. Clark was killed and several of our men wounded during the month." NZ Cyclists Battalion,  Official History.

A brief note on John's records states: "multiple legs buttock face," referring to his wounds - a sad epitaph for a Gallipoli veteran.

FOR THE EMPIRE'S CAUSE

DEATH

CLARK - On March 25, died from wounds "somewhere in France," Corporal John Stanley Clark (Main Body, N.Z.E.F.), third dearly beloved son of Charlie and Agnes Clark, Double Hill, Waitati; aged 25 years.

His warfare's o'er, his battle's fought.

His victory won, though dearly bought,

His fresh young life could not be saved,

He slumbers now in a soldier's grave.  -Otago Daily Times, 6/4/1918.

FOR THE EMPIRE'S CAUSE

IN MEMORIAM

CLARKE - In loving memory of Lance-corporal John Stanley Clark (Main Body), who died from wounds in France on March 25, 1918.

This day brings back sad memories

Of one we loved so dear.

-Inserted by his loving parents, sisters, and brothers.  -Otago Daily Times, 26/3/1921.

IN MEMORIAM

CLARK — In loving memory of a dear husband and father, Charles Clark, Waitati, who died April 14, 1931. And Stanley Clark, who was killed in France March 25, 1918. “Too dearly loved to be forgotten.” — Inserted by their loved ones. 

CLARK. — In loving memory of our dear father and grandfather, who passed away at Dunedin April 14, 1931. Resting where no shadows fall In perfect peace he awaits us all. — Inserted by his loving son-in-law, daughter, and grandchildren, Leith Valley.  -Otago Daily Times, 14/3/1934.

13932 Driver Walter Rae Kedzlie, NZFA, 19/8/1890-25/3/1918.

Walter Kedzlie was a farmer from Halfway Bush, near Dunedin.  He won a special prize for drawing from Wakari School at age seven, and again the next year at eight.  Walter worked on the family farm on leaving school and enlisted in the army in early 1916.  He was drafted to the New Zealand Field Artillery and enrolled as a driver.

                                                             

At the end of May, 1916, Walter returned from training on embarkation leave and was formally farewelled at his old primary school, along with a fellow soldier, James Dixon (another casualty of 1918).  Walter was presented with a wristwatch and a set of tobacco pipes. Mr James Torrance, chairman of the local school committee, in suitable terms made the presentations on behalf of residents. The ladies provided refreshments at the function, and the troopers expressed themselves as greatly pleased with the kindness shown them. -Otago Daily Times, 27/5/1916

At the end of August, 1917, Walter was admitted to a London hospital with tuberculosis of the lungs - described as "pulmonary phthisis."

Pleasant Valley Sanatorium, Hocken Library photo.

Walter returned home to Dunedin at the beginning of January, 1918.  He was sent to the Pleasant Valley Sanatorium with acute tuberculosis.  He lived only a couple more months and died almost exactly two years after enlistment.

                                    

Southern Cemetery, Dunedin.

                                    

45245 Rifleman John James Shennan, 9/9/1895-23/3/1918.

"Though only eight days have elapsed since the 24th Reinforcements left Dunedin, the send-off of the 25th to-day was quite as hearty and enthusiastic. This would not be the case were the function merely a military spectacle. The public soon tire of anything' that is only show. In these farewellings there is a blood interest. The men going away are everybody's sons and brothers. Even the sonless feel the thrill. The boys of the 25th made as good an impression as any of their predecessors. They were a manly-looking lot of fellows, full of spirit, and as cheerful as possible, and cheers were constantly interchanged between them and the crowd."  -Evening Star, 11/1/1917.

John James Shennan was a farmer from Berwick, and son of a farmer.  He was called up, uniformed and sent off for training with the cheers of Dunedin citizens and the music of the Dunedin Highland Pipe Band in his ears, from the march between the Kensington Drill Hall and Dunedin Railway Station.

"We are here at this time to say farewell to another body of splendid men who are going forth to fight the battles of their country. Men, we are heartily sorry to say farewell to you. With your fathers and your mothers, we are filled with sorrow. Why? Because you men are our best and dearest. The men who have gone, out from our shores and tho men who are going out are the very flower of our country. We cannot afford to lose them. We also regret to have to say farewell on account of the occasion that is calling you away. We are sorry to think that any people calling themselves a Christian people should be engaged in such a tyrannical war against our loved land. We are sorry to think that any people should have fallen so low in the eyes of the nations of tho world as is the case with the Power we are fighting. There is one word I wish to say specially to you, especially in the present circumstances. I want you to remember that you are going out in a cause that is righteous. I want you to remember that yours is a cause that is just and right. According to the philosophy of the German nation might is right. As a matter of fact their one formula has been Might is right. God is going to show to these people that might is not right, but that right is might. I have been reading scriptures and I have been reading history for 40 years and I find that a great many of England's greatest soldiers were Christian men, and I believe that many of those I am addressing at the present moment are Christian men. Cromwell and his Ironsides, prior to engaging in battle, engaged in prayer and sang psalms. They never went into battle without going down on their knees, and they were never beaten. I tell you our Empire is going to win, and I want you to remember that the power belongeth unto God. Never forget that the power is in the hands of the Almighty. Now, lads, if you are. true to God, God will be true to you, and no man will stand in front of you. The best man is the man who trusts God, whether in civil or any other life, and that is the man who lives a life of prayer. I hope that before long we shall hear of a crushing victory and a lasting peace, and that we shall welcome you all home again. We are proud of you as New Zealanders, and just as proud of the men who have gone before you. Go forward, not in your own strength, but in the strength of your God " (Applause.) -Mr Jones then engaged in a short prayer. -Evening Star, 11/1/1917. 

With training completed, John and others of the 25th Reinforcements left New Zealand for Europe on April 26, 1917.

West Taieri Cemetery, Outram.  Allan Steel photo.

James was wounded with a bullet in the stomach on March the 13th, 1918.  The Rifle Brigade was still waiting for the anticipated German offensive on that day so he would not have been wounded in battle as such.  I've found no further details in his army records.  He might have been part of a trench raid, he might have been hit by a German sniper.  He might have been shot by accident by a nervous or careless comrade.  Wounded on the 13th and died on the 23rd means it would have been a long, painful death.  He was in the 3rd Canadian Stationary Hospital at Doullens, France - I hope there was plenty of morphine on hand.  He was 22 years old.

2/1667 Corporal Amede Rocard, NZFA, 22/3/1893-19/3/1918.

Amede Rocard was born, one of twins, in Dunedin.  Both of the twins, Amede and Auguste, went to the war, enlisting early in the year of 1915.  Both were blacksmiths before they enlisted.  Amede left Dunedin from the Railway Station on April 17th, one of Otago's contribution to the 6th Reinforcements, cheered on by a large crowd and lauded by Dunedin's Mayor and senior clergy.

He became part of the 6th Howitzer Battery of the New Zealand Field Artillery, his rank recorded as "Corporal/Shoeing Smith."  In those days of horse-drawn artillery, his job was a vital one.

NZFA units being inspected by the General Officer Commanding, General Roberts.

In April of 1916, he embarked on the troopship "Minnewaska" and landed, with his battery, on the soil that his father had left in the 1870s.  The Field Artillery were in France for the "Big Push" - the Battle of the Somme, in which the newly trained armies of Britain and her empire would break through the German lines and, assisted by the cavalry, return to open-country warfare and chase the enemy all the way to Berlin.

But the Germans had had almost two years to prepare their defence.  A German Army motto, cherished by its Generals was: "More sweat, less blood."  Their defence against the weeks of preliminary bombardment by British Artillery was deep, concrete-lined shelters.  There the troops would sit while the world above them was turned to hell by high explosives.  When the barrage lifted there was enough time to clear the steps, bring up their machine guns and ammunition belts, and greet the soldiers who had been told there was a good chance they would be walking, unopposed, through the ruins of the German trenches.

The Battle of the Somme opened on July 1st.  One and a half million shells were fired by British forces at German positions.  Many of the shells were shrapnel - ineffective against men in shelters but it was hoped that the German wire wold be cut by it.  New Zealand soldiers entered the Battle in September.  Two of the German defensive lines had been breached.  A third remained, plus a lightly made fourth.  A strong push against these could produce the decisive breakthrough.

The Field Artillery played their part and could judge the success of the advance by their being pushed forward to new positions on September 10th.  Batteries fired at trenches, observation posts, supply roads, at any movement seen across no-man's-land.  Gas shells were also fired.  

But the cost was high.  In eight months at Gallipoli, the New Zealand Army had lost nearly 2800 men.  In 45 days on the Somme, the toll was approaching 2100.  Three assaults were made by New Zealand troops but German reserves and German artillery were always there to stop progress.  And it rained.  The assault of the British Armies on the Somme was called off in November.

Rocard served with his Battery through the equally dark days of "Third Ypres" or Paesschendaele in 1917.  When the "Kaiserschlacht" of 1918 opened, his Brigade was in the area of Ypres town and remained there in support while the other two Brigades of the NZFA moved out.  The 2nd's expectation of remaining in support was overwhelmed by events and they found themselves fighting a rearguard action.  The Official History describes the event which took the life of Corporal Amede Rocard: "The old wagon lines near Dickebush were occupied on the 16th of March, Brigade Headquarters going to Halfway House, and on the following two days the 5th, 9th, and 6th Batteries went into action in the neighbourhood of Birr Cross Roads, and the 2nd Battery near Kit and Kat. On the 19th the wagon lines were heavily shelled by high velocity guns, the resultant casualties to men and horses being so severe as to necessitate the establishment of temporary lines near Hallebast Corner."

Amede's twin brother Auguste, survived the war and died in 1959.

The Huts Cemetery, Ieper (Ypres) 

The Rocard family grave, Northern Cemetery, Dunedin.

ODT, 19/3/1921

49355 Sapper Thomas Willoughby Dryden, 22/9/1894-14/3/1918.

Thomas Dryden grew up on Duke Street in North Dunedin.  He was a bricklayer, working for his father, when he found his name on the call-up list on the 14th of February of 1917 so I suppose it was logical that he was eventually enrolled in the New Zealand engineers.  

He attended the send-off for the Otago portion of the 27th Reinforcements on March 8th at the Kensington Army HQ.  180 men listened to a short speech from Colonel E R Smith, followed by a few more which were reported thus:

"Colonel Smith said he had seen every reinforcement away from Dunedin except one, and by this time had expended all his 'dont's.'" He would sum it all up in two words to them — "Keep fit." If the Germans had any idea that the furthest outpost of the Empire could, at this stage of the war, send away such a fine, strapping lot of men, it would give them something more to think about — (Applause.) He referred to a few unfortunate lads who had set out with the fullest intention of doing all they could for the Empire, but had been unable to get beyond Trentham, owing to broken health, and their hopes had ended in severe disappointment. He reminded the men that each, from the youngest to the oldest, possessed his own will power, and he urged them to retain full control and not be led into trouble. In conclusion. Colonel Smith stated that the Territorials were now mostly lads of 18 or 19, and on behalf of that force he wished the reinforcement every success in their training, journeying, and campaigning, and finally a safe return to this side of Taiaroa Heads. — (Applause.)

"Mrs Macfie addressed the men on behalf of Miss Downie Stewart (president of the Otago and Southland Women's Patriotic Association). She said that the men were the living answer to Britain's call to her sons to come forth to make a combined and gigantic effort to crush and eternally cripple the enemies of civilisation. They were proof that our enthusiasm had not cooled, nor our determination weakened to carry on to an honourably victorious finish this unprecedented world struggle. Every one of us must unite and respond with all our hearts in doing and giving whatever was needed to bring victory. With the good help of the men of the Empire, Europe would never belong to Germany. The issue lay in the hand of God, who was a moral ruler, and on the side of the people whose cause was just. The men who were about to depart had for their ideals the historic and immortal achievements of those who had gone before them, and the women had no doubt that the men would regard the solemn trust as a stern duty, and to keep untarnished the glorious record of New Zealand's sons. — (Applause.)

— Miss Stewart, who was absent through the persistent indisposition of her soldier brother, had deputed her to convey the association's wishes for the best of luck all along the line, and to wish the men what they trusted was but "au revoir," and also to say that each one of them would receive a field kit on board the transport and a dominion parcel every month after arrival at their destination, the latter containing foodstuffs, smokes, etc., also disinfected muslin shirts, which would wage war on the animal life. Lastly, the hon. secretary (Miss Jean Burt) had made arrangements with the War Contingents' Association in London whereby they would receive a change of day and underwear when they were on furlough in England. All these were gifts from the women and children of Otago and Southland.—(Applause.)— The speaker advised the men to keep in close touch by letter with their good mothers, wives, and all loved ones, and to let their sweet memories be ever a safeguard when temptation assailed their path, remembering that their own and all other women, were daily working and praying for their speedy and safe return. —(Applause.) On the conclusion of Mrs Macfie's speech, the men gave hearty cheers for the Women's Association.

Then it was the Mayor's turn, and it's possible that his speech was more for the public than the troops... 

"The Mayor of Dunedin (Mr J. J. Clark) said the presence of so many citizens was evidence of their desire to honor the men who were going to fight. He assured the men that they were leaving the city with the confidence of the people that they would worthily uphold the honor of New Zealand and bring added lustre to the glorious name of the men from under the Southern Cross. The far-flung Empire was united and filled with a mighty determination that no matter what the cost there could be only one end to the war, and that was the absolute overthrow of Kaiserdom, with a complete victory for Britain and her Allies. Victory could only be gained by the heroic self-sacrifice and magnificent power of our fighting men. The men they were farewelling that day would show they were possessed of the same heroic strong courage as the men of Anzac. Our object must be to so demolish Germany that she would never again be a menace to the world and attack us in the battle for commercial supremacy. Not only to-day, but long after the victory was won on the battlefield, had we to do our share in keeping Germany out of our Empire. The public must let Parliament see that legislation was required that would make it impossible for the antiBritish Britisher to import or sell German goods into this dominion. We knew that there were people who would forget all patriotism when profit was to be made, and buy the goods of our cruel foes if they could procure them a little cheaper. What was the use of our men going to fight Germany if those who stayed behind were not prepared to do their part and prevent Germany, when the war was over, from taking the trade from our own Empire. 

"Men of Otago and Southland," said the Mayor, in conclusion, "we wish you God-speed in your mission. The glorious achievements of the men of the Silver Fern and Golden Wattle have written deep in the annals of our nation a story of valour and magnificent exploits that will rank among the glories of our Empire. Anzac is the coping-stone of Imperialism. I am certain that you men of the 27th will match the heroism of those comrades of yours who have done such famous work for the nation. We wish you God-speed and good luck, and a safe and speedy return to our land to receive the welcome you will have earned. — (Loud Applause.) 

Chaplain-major Gray said the men who were departing that day had been called on to defend their hearths and their homes. It was their duty not only to prevent Britain from being conquered, but to defend New Zealand, and to prevent this fair land, where we had enjoyed so much peace and plenty, from falling as a prize into the hands of the aggressor. The infamous deeds, the barbarity, and the cruelty of the enemy, who had respected neither the infirmity of old age nor the feebleness of childhood, nor the sanctity of woman — had desecrated churches, and violated all that Christians held sacred — had made the name of Germany to stink in the nostrils of humanity. The men who had gone already had been greater history makers. The history of their deeds in this war would be read with thrilling hearts and glorying pride by generations of New Zealanders yet unborn, and men and women in all parts of the world a century hence would trace their lineage for one drop of blood that would link them on to the heroes of Anzac or of the Somme. The men might rest assured that hundreds of thousands would pray for them. The speaker concluded by saying: "Be true to your own higher instincts. Try to follow the voice of conscience, and avoid everything that you would be ashamed to speak of when you return, and may you all return more than conquerors through Him that loved you." 

The departing soldiers were then marched on to the station, and'the train left at the appointed time, the men being enthusiastically cheered as they went away. Lieut. S. S. George and Sergeant-major Reeves were in charge of the men on the train.  - Otago Daily Times, 9/3/1917.

"led into trouble" - "a safeguard when temptation assailed their path" - "avoid everything that you would be ashamed to speak of when you return" - the more genteel readers of the Otago Daily Times in 1917 might have their ideas of what was alluded to in those veiled phrases.  But Army authorities were estimating that about 7000 NZ men were catching one or another kind of venereal disease each year of the War - beginning with their visits to the "native quarter" of Cairo on their arrival in Egypt in 1914.  The problem of diseased soldiers, and what to do with them when war was over and there were fewer polite reasons not to release them into New Zealand society, became a difficult one after November 1918.

Dryden family grave, Northern Cemetery, Dunedin

Thomas' unit, the 1st Field Company of the NZ Engineers was employed in the New Zealand sector of Flanders, preparing for the expected German attack.  Three defensive lines were planned, to enable the Germans to be held up while reinforcements were deployed.  Strong and permanent field emplacements were made for the artillery, with equally strong rear positions made for the heavy units for retirement and redeployment in the event of an enemy breakthrough.  Observation and command posts were made and telephone wires laid.  The Engineers worked hard and there was much work for them to do.  It was a race against time and the enemy.

In January, 1918 and also in March, German long-range heavy artillery - thought to be borrowed from or operated by the German Navy - began to do damage behind the British lines.  It is possible that Sapper Dryden was seriously wounded by a shell from one of these guns.  He was taken by stretcher bearers of the No. 1 Australian Field Ambulance to a casualty clearing station where he died.

"Died of wounds Mar. 18.1918 wnd head comp fract" is the note on Thomas' record.  A compound skull fracture.  It was a common practice in wartime for a dead man's mates to tell his nearest and dearest that their loved one died without pain - no matter what they had seen and heard of his dying agonies.  In the case of Thomas Willoughby Dryden, it would likely have been the truth.

room 101 and the kindness of strangers

Humbly dedicated to New Zealand's greatest practical joker.

Some years ago I cycled through the McKenzie Country, approaching from the north through Burkes Pass.  I still recall making my way down beside the canal from Lake Takapo with a very strong wind coming in from my left, threatening at any minute to push me into the water.  After what seemed a long time the canal made a 90 degree turn to the right and suddenly I was riding hard and fast, reaching the top end of my top gear, registering a sustained 40-45kmh for the next half hour or so.

I spent the night at Twizel and made my way down the hydro canals to the top of Lake Benmore.  My plan was to reach the end of the canal system and made my way over the dewatered rivers to the Haldon Station area and taking a beautiful wooded valley that I'd read about to Benmore Dam.

Leaving my bike at the end of the canal I waded over the Ohau River and followed a 4wd track across the end of the Pukaki River.  It soon became clear that I'd have to carry everything over the loose shingle of the river bed and it wasn't going to happen.  So I spent the night where I was and returned up the canal road next day.

There are two hydro stations on that stretch of the canal - Ohau B and C.  Each is built to the same design, each has the same layout shown on the alarm board beside the entrance door.  Each board has a list of the rooms, naming them for their function or the equipment they hold.  Except for one.  

Each station has a small room, at basement level, under the car park.  Each of those rooms is named Room 101.  For those who don't know the meaning of "Room 101," it's from the George Orwell novel 1984, set in an ultra-stalinist regime where the Ministry of Love, the place you are interrogated and tortured, has a room where, having found what your innermost weakness is, you are finally broken. 

 

The Upper Waitaki Scheme was a project of the New Zealand Ministry of Works, a state-owned construction juggernaut (in NZ terms, at least) which swept all before it.  Own a farm where a dam is needed?  No problem for the MOW.  The government would pass a law and your farm is gone.  Want to grow apricots in a valley which needs to hold water for a dam?  No problem, your water rights are extinguished and your apricot trees are gone - except for one, in a rest area near the new stretch of highway.  The MOW built dams, canals, roads, bridges - and towns.  Twizel was a project workers' town, not meant to survive the Upper Waitaki Scheme's completion.  Yes, the Ministry of Works was an irresistible,  monolithic force (well, at least in NZ terms).  And someone played a joke on it. 

The commissioning date for Ohau B and C hydro stations sits in bronze below the Station name and the New Zealand coat of arms.  It overlooks the car park, under which is Room 101.

In mid 2009 I read a number of books of urban legends.  There's a common one featuring a truck taking heavy machinery under a bridge which, it is calculated, it will miss by a narrow margin.  Against all expectations, the top of the load clips the bridge and comes off.  The calculations hadn't included the expansion of air in the tyres of the heavy carrier.  My dad told me that story, setting it under the railway underpass at Alma, south of Oamaru.  As far as I know, it never happened.  The books got me thinking about "Room 101."  I had no photos of it.  Had I really seen it?  I wanted to be sure, I wanted photos.  

My opportunity came when one of the Cook Strait power cables was powered down for repairs.  One of the canals of the Upper Waitaki Scheme was going to be drained for inspection and possible repair of one of its gates.  That might be interesting to see, I thought, if I can get to it.  But more interesting would be the boards near the entrances of Ohau B and C Stations.  Or at least B.  Walking to them both from the highway near Twizel would be a long day.

For reasons which would take too long to go into here, I hitch wearing the uniform of an Imperial Russian Army General.  It certainly gets me noticed.  When asked some version or other of "Why the uniform?" - and if I think the driver can take it - I'll answer with some version of "Well, the people at the Clinic are very nice but they won't let me hitch naked any more."  

Not me.  But illustrative of the uniform I wear, though mine is more a bottle green in colour.

The uniform does work well for hitch-hiking.  Many people have picked me up simply to find out who I am.  Once I was picked up, in Winchester, South Canterbury after dark, by a driver who turned around to do so just to be sure that he'd seen what he thought he'd seen.  It was one of the most welcome meetings I've ever experienced.

I made my way to the north of Dunedin, the beginning of the Northern Motorway.  For the life of me, I can't recall who picked me up there and dropped me in Oamaru.  But I think it was a relatively fast ride there.

I was dropped off in the centre of Oamaru.  Anyone who has walked from the centre of Oamaru to its northern end on a warm day, wearing wool and carrying a pack will understand that, having done it once (or in my case plenty more than once) it can be a long walk.  So I broke my hitching rules and spent ten dollars on a taxi to the end of town.

Late morning found me at the north end of Oamaru.  I noticed a house truck stopping a couple of hundred metres to the south.  The passenger door opened and closed and I thought nothing more of it.  Then, approaching me, it indicated and stopped. The driver was retired teacher, Gail, who had stopped just earlier to chase a bee out of the cab.  Gail lived in her housebus and drove it between fishing spots.  As we drove up the valley we talked about my destination and the more we talked the more we realised that we were aiming for exactly the same place.  She was headed for the end of the canal road at the top of Lake Benmore.  She was kind enough to stop at the power company HQ but there was nobody there who knew about the history of Ohau B and C.  We arrived at the end of the road, built a campfire and talked until well after dark.

Ohau Canal.  The water shows the characteristic milky colour
from silt melted out of the glaciers at the head of Lake Pukaki.

Ohau C Station

Gail's home

The last of the sunlight on the hilltop 

Next day, Gail was keen to see the empty canal on the other side of Twizel so we headed back up the canal road.  There were a few men standing around Ohau C wearing hi-viz so we stopped.  "Does Room 101 actually exist?" I asked one of them.  It does, he told me.  It's a small concrete room with one steel door and no windows.  It was built for air conditioning equipment which was never installed.

Meeting of the Pukaki and Ohau Canals.

We drove past Twizel and then along the nearly empty canal, stopping at one of the gates to see the large trout in the remaining pool.  Then Gail dropped me off at Twizel  "Well," I said as we shook hands goodbye, "as they say in Canada, it's been a slice."

I had lunch in the Twizel shopping area - a very welcome hot pie, while I watched the people around me.  I bought some food at the local supermarket and got on the road again.  A short ride to Omarama was made with a guy who worked at the glider operation at the local airfield and owed his life to a glider-mounted parachute.  Not operated by him but by his dad before he was born.

A reasonably long wait at the edge of Omarama was made a little more interesting by the sight of a car approaching on the wrong side of the road.  I frantically waved them over as they passed.

From Omarama to Kurow I traveled with a driver and a truckload of frozen venison, heading from the Haast area to Christchurch.  Another perfect journey, dropping me off at the Kurow end of one of their old Waitaki bridges.  I stashed my gear under the bridge, where I'd slept the last time I'd cycled through and changed into light clothing.  I began my walk to Old Slip Road.

This road was built for access to Waitangi and Te Akatarawa Stations and others on the north side of the Waitaki River.  It was a continual maintenance nightmare, built across a gravel face which can be seen from the modern highway between Kurow and the Waitaki Dam.  The gravel face section was narrow, high and dangerous.  The 1930s Waitaki Dam project, the first hydro power project on the river, was planned to flood parts of the Old Slip Road and the local council were happy to see it closed and replaced by a steel bridge upriver of the dam - at central government expense.  The Waitangi Bridge is no longer there - removed for and replaced by the Aviemore Dam upriver from the Waitaki Dam, but was an impressive one in its day,  210 metres long with a central span of 70 metres which was a record for the country.

Flowering matagouri.

The last use of the Old Slip Road, before part of it was submerged, was to take gravel and cement to the relocated concrete mixer for the final work on the Waitaki Dam.  There was a suggestion in 2013 to use it for part of the Alps to Ocean cycle trail but that came to nothing.

It was an easy walk along gravel roads, edging closer to the Waitaki River.  Eventually the road started up the slope towards the slip-prone area of mountainside, the air made fragrant and sweet by the matagouri in flower - something I'd not seen before.  Approaching the slip area the first thing I noticed was a home-made sign, warning me off.  The second thing I noticed was the slip itself.  It seemed to have an animal track along the road line.  Would it handle the weight of a human?  Twice?  I made my way onto it.  And looked down.  The steep, loose gravel went all the way to the waters of the Waitaki River.  If the shingle gave way beneath me, I might just have enough time to text a farewell to someone before it was time to swim.  I stepped carefully back.

Sheep track across the slip face.

Looking down to the mighty Waitaki

Bridged portion of the road.  Maybe I'll try to get there next time.

Old Slip Road, photo held by the Kurow Museum.  I've read that passengers who were new to the road often preferred to walk behind the truck heading for Waitangi Station.

I spent some time resting, enjoying the view and taking photos.  Then I retraced my steps to the Kurow Bridge.  I filled my water bottle from the public tap.  I ate dinner and read until dark.  I used the last of the charge of my last replacement camera battery for some time exposure photos of cars crossing the bridge with their lights on.

Looking back from the Kurow Bridge

My third morning was another sunny one.  A highlight of waiting with my thumb out on the downriver side of Kurow was a passing tour bus.  A woman of a certain age, wearing nice clothes and heavy makeup, sat by the door with a microphone in her hand, explaining the passing scene to her passengers.  She passed the Russian General with jaw dropped.

It was an average waiting time for my first lift of the day, watching the personal movements of a small town beginning its day.  I was picked up by a welder who was taking a day off from - coincidentally - maintenance work on one of the Ohau power stations.  He explained how much work was required for hydro turbines, constantly patching the erosion caused by the phenomenon of cavitation.  Cavitation is what happens when flowing water drops to a low pressure and bubbles form.  When the pressure increases the bubbles implode, causing shock waves which stress and fatigue metal items such as propellors, pumps and generator turbines.  Every few months, I was told, a turbine needs to be stopped, drained and inspected for repairs.  All those "end of civilisation" scenarios where everything collapses but the electricity still flows for years were wrong, he said.  It's a matter of months at the most.  So be warned.

We reached Oamaru and I was dropped off at the south side of town.  It was a short wait for another entertaining encounter.  Two retired ladies who were returning from the national Scrabble champs - I think.  They were great conversation and so kind that they dropped me off outside my house.  

So  ended my search for Room 101.  The weather broke and it rained that night.  It still ranks as one of my better hitching experiences.