A son’s hı¯koi to honour father’s war service

Army medals

‘‘Proud is a weak word,’’ Gayne Ihaia says. ‘‘It doesn’t show your full feelings for these people.’’

It has been 77 years since the end of World War II but today Ihaia and his whānau will be in Rotorua to receive the medals his father never got for his service in the 28th Māori Battalion.

The New Zealand Defence Force will be presenting these medals at Te Papaiouru Marae to more than 80 whānauwhose t¯ıpuna fought for their freedom.

David Stone, whose great-uncle Dooley (Turi) Swann from Gisborne

was killed during the Italian campaign in 1944 while serving with the battalion, spearheaded the project to ensure those who served are acknowledged for their sacrifice.

Ihaia’s father, Lance Corporal Harry Ahuriri Ihaia (Te Arawa) was a stretcher bearer in the first wave that travelled to England before setting up in North Africa.

‘‘My dad was fighting for freedom from a tyrant who thought he could rule the world,’’ Ihaia said.

‘‘All he had was a tin hat with a red cross on it, a stretcher and bandages.

‘‘He was under fire and was bringing back the wounded, whether it was our people or the enemy.’’

Harry Ihaia was 27 when he set off. He never spoke about his time overseas but growing up, Ihaia learned the war had changed his father.

‘‘He was a different man when he came back, they all are when you come back from something as dramatic as that. They are not the same ever again,’’ Ihaia said.

‘‘They kept it to themselves but as the years go on you can see what they have been through.’’

Ihaia remembered his mother asked his father where his medals were when he returned. He told her they were stolen on the boat. It was easier than saying they were not acknowledged when they returned.

Other than the mental scars of war, the only trace of his service was a shrapnel wound on his leg from a booby trap.

While his dad moved on with his life, working on the railways and building bridges, he never lost his connection to the army, or the men he served with, Ihaia said.

They had nothing in common but, when the commander called them to stand at attention, they snapped back into action.

‘‘They never lost that training,’’ Ihaia said. ‘‘They would march and you could hear their shoes on the road. When I go to Anzac [parades] now and I see these returned servicemen, I see my dad, I hear my dad.

‘‘It is going to be very emotional. ‘‘It is going to be a closing for a lot of families. It is something that is way overdue but that is how it is and it is being corrected.

‘‘I can’t wait to see my dad’s medals and have them in my hand.’’

Harry Ahuriri Ihaia died at 67, a loving father and husband who always provided for his whānau.