Là où il y a de la vie, il y a de l’espoir

November 4 – Liberation Day – a special day of remembrance for Kiwi soldier’s family

As names go, they don’t come more spectacular than Melbourne Ascot Inkster.
The Kiwi soldier’s parents – James and Eliza – named him after the farm in Ascotvale, Melbourne, where they had lived before moving to ’Te Rauamoa’ Te Awamutu where he was born on December 31, 1896.
Before enlisting for World War One in 1917, Melbourne worked as a clerk for Spedding Ltd Importers.
“His boss at the time,” says great granddaughter, Kate Brooks, “declared there was no way he would be calling out for Melbourne across the office, so christened him Peter. He was mostly known as Peter for the rest of his life.
“Some of his cousins called him Melbie,” says Kate, “and we don’t think it’s too much of a shame he wasn’t known as Melbourne because it’s provided a family story that has been passed down through the generations.”

Remembering Liberation Day

November 4, 1918 – the day New Zealand soldiers liberated the town of Le Quesnoy during World War One – is a special day of remembrance for Melbourne’s family, including Kate, her mum Stephanie, aunt Meredith, and Melbourne’s surviving daughter Vivienne.

Even though they are 18,000km from Le Quesnoy, and it was 106 years ago, they remember the liberation because Melbourne was one of the lucky ones who came home.

Melbourne was part of the 1st Battalion of the NZ Rifle Brigade and suffered a head wound at Le Quesnoy on the morning of 4 November. He returned to New Zealand where he lived into his mid 70s.

“Many weren’t so lucky,” says Kate who visited Le Quesnoy and Te Arawhata this year to remember her great grandfather and pay her respects to the fallen New Zealand soldiers buried on the Western Front.

“We think of November 4 from the perspective that even though Melbourne was shot, wounded and spent several months in hospital, he got to go home. There were so many boys who didn’t.”

Influential Māori doctor, politician and later anthropologist, Peter Buck Te Rangi Hīroa, who was a member of the Pioneer Battalion during World War One, was instrumental in saving Melbourne that day.

“Apparently, the stretcher bearers were going to leave him because he’d been shot in the head and appeared beyond help. But Peter Buck said, ‘No, where there’s life there’s hope’ and had him picked up and taken to a medical tent.”

Kate’s visit to Le Quesnoy and Te Arawhata was very emotional. “The museum is amazing and as a Kiwi, I felt something being on the ground there. You feel an emotional attachment to it. It also makes you realise how important New Zealand is to this little town on the other side of the world. I felt proud to be a kiwi.

“It highlighted for me, and probably for a lot of visitors, how these young blokes from the other side of the world were putting their lives on the line for a cause that, maybe in the long run would have affected them, but not straight away. Melbourne was only 20 when arriving over there, they were kids, they were so brave.”

Postcards from around the world

Melbourne grew up on the North Shore of Auckland, sharing a passion for sailing alongside his older brother Jim. After enlisting, and leaving his job at Spedding Ltd Importers, he left on May 9, 1918, aboard the Maunganui bound for Liverpool via the Panama Canal.

He collected postcards almost everywhere he went – from dancehalls in the US state of Virginia to the hospitals he recovered in after being shot.

“He was a collector and kept a visual record of all the places he went which enabled us to chain it all together,” says Kate.

“There’s a full album of postcards where he’s written the dates, where he was, and what he was doing. They went through the Panama Canal, stopped in Virginia in the US and went to a dancehall on 8th or 9th of June. It’s an amazing archive.”

Kate first heard of Le Quesnoy when her mum purchased a picture book recounting the story of the liberation in 2012.

“I knew as a kid that Melbourne had participated in WW1.But when Mum found this book, she said he was involved in this tiny town’s liberation.”

She also recalls her mum talking about how, when she was little, she used to sit on her grandfather’s knee and, he would ask if she would like to touch the “ridge” on his head, referring to his gunshot wound.

“When he was shot, the bullet went along above his ear and he was left with what felt like, well, a ridge. He would joke that that’s what turned his jet-black hair grey after being shot.”

Kate’s aunt Meredith and her mum are the historians of the family, collecting and documenting Melbourne’s postcards, photos, medals and other memorabilia.

“It’s amazing what we still have in the family and what’s been retained,” she says.

Kate’s grandmother, Allison, was very close to her dad. “When she had to leave her house, which she’d been in since the 1950s, which is where my mum grew up, the things they found in there were quite amazing.”

These items included Melbourne’s uniform from Trentham training camp, his many badges, and a presentation Webley & Sons Pistol kindly gifted to him by a gentleman he spent time recuperating with in England and now held at the Museum of New Zealand Te Papa Tongarewa. They also found an admission card to Windsor Castle where he had morning tea with Princess Alice (the great granddaughter of Queen Victoria) on February 4, 1919.

“My aunt Meredith said something that really hit home with me recently. She said that in Māori culture you’re taught about your whakapapa from day dot, but sometimes, Pākehā are not as good at valuing those connections.

“I feel lucky that my Aunt Meredith, and my mum, hold that place for our family in terms of keeping it alive.”

Life during peace time

Not long after his return to New Zealand, Melbourne went back to work at Spedding Ltd where he met Hazel, Kate’s great grandmother.

“She was most likely introduced to him as Peter, so that’s when the name really stuck,” she says with a smile.  

They married in 1923 and lived in Bayswater, where Kate’s grandmother was born, before moving to Wellington in 1927 where Melbourne initially worked for Speddings then set up his own importing business.

“From what I understand, he was quite a quiet, deep-thinking gentleman. Even as a child, I don’t think he was overly outspoken. He was very meticulous with record keeping, he loved reading, had an enquiring mind, and was a subscriber to National Geographic from the 1930’s until he died [on August 9, 1972].”

She believes he probably didn’t talk about the war because he wouldn’t have wanted to bore or burden people with it.

“I think it probably is more of a testament to his nature because he was a man of few words. But I don’t think he carried too much of it [the war’s impact] around with him, fortunately, as he had entered the conflict pretty well at the end. He was happy enough to put himself forward in World War Two when he was a Sergeant in the Home Guard.

“He was stationed in Dannevirke where he was appointed to drive light vehicles. Mum said it was almost like a Dad’s Army type situation,” she smiles.

For Kate, being able to tell Melbourne’s story has made her appreciate the work her Auntie Meredith and mum have done to collect and retain the family’s stories.

“I’ve always loved history and I’m a bit of a history nerd. But there’s something even more special when you can connect your family or relatives into it.

“Seeing Melbourne’s photos, like when he went through the Panama Canal, it’s incredible that these photos still exist. It’s made me want to continue that on for the generations to come.”

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