19.08.2020 Views

The Star: August 20, 2020

Create successful ePaper yourself

Turn your PDF publications into a flip-book with our unique Google optimized e-Paper software.

Thursday <strong>August</strong> <strong>20</strong> <strong>20</strong><strong>20</strong> <strong>The</strong> <strong>Star</strong><br />

Latest Canterbury news at starnews.co.nz<br />

13<br />

‘He took aim, waited . . . then CRACK!’<br />

• From page 10<br />

Charlie emerged out of an olive<br />

grove on the run. Somewhere<br />

behind him were two Germans<br />

armed with machine guns.<br />

Ahead of him was a hundred metres<br />

of exposed ground sprinkled<br />

with a few trees. He was halfway<br />

across when the Germans appeared<br />

out of the grove, guns<br />

chattering. One of Charlie’s men<br />

saw him jerk and twist as he fell<br />

from view into long grass. He<br />

was convinced Charlie had been<br />

killed. So were the Germans, but<br />

taking no chances, they crept<br />

forward cautiously.<br />

Kippenberger: “He fell and<br />

shammed dead, then crawled<br />

into a position and having the<br />

use of only one arm he rested his<br />

rifle in the fork of a tree as the<br />

Germans came forward.”<br />

Charlie had just tripped over<br />

an exposed root. He squirmed<br />

through the grass to a small tree<br />

that stood between him and his<br />

stalkers. <strong>The</strong> first branch was low.<br />

Charlie used his right hand to lift<br />

the heavy rifle into the fork. <strong>The</strong><br />

Jerries were close, looking for a<br />

body. Charlie let them creep closer.<br />

He took aim, waited until they<br />

were just 2 metres away, then<br />

squeezed the trigger — CRACK!<br />

<strong>The</strong> first German toppled to the<br />

ground. <strong>The</strong> second German<br />

paused in disbelief over his fallen<br />

comrade. It was time enough for<br />

Charlie to shift his good hand to<br />

the bolt, draw it back and bring<br />

another round into the chamber.<br />

Pushing it home, he squeezed the<br />

trigger again — CRACK! Blood<br />

spouting from the middle of his<br />

forehead, the second German fell<br />

face forward against the muzzle<br />

of Charlie’s rifle.<br />

Further up the slopes, Colonel<br />

Kippenberger was charged with<br />

holding Galatas against the<br />

German breakthrough with<br />

a makeshift force of drivers<br />

without trucks, gunners without<br />

artillery, the Kiwi Concert<br />

Party, plus Cretan irregulars and<br />

mainland Greek soldiers armed<br />

with ancient rifles. Some of his<br />

men broke and ran. Horrified<br />

that it might become contagious,<br />

the slightly built, undemonstrative<br />

small-town lawyer stood<br />

RESEARCH: Tom Scott retraced Upham’s World War 2<br />

footsteps in Egypt, Crete, Italy and Germany.<br />

PHOTO: NZ HERALD<br />

in the middle of the maelstrom<br />

shouting, “Stand for New Zealand!<br />

Stand, every man who is a<br />

soldier!” He sheepishly admitted<br />

later that he couldn’t think of<br />

anything else to say. It was hardly<br />

“We few, we happy few, we band<br />

of brothers!” like Henry V before<br />

the battle of Agincourt, but it was<br />

enough. It stopped a trickling<br />

retreat from becoming a complete<br />

gushing rout and made him a legend<br />

in the New Zealand Division.<br />

Kippenberger waited until<br />

dusk before launching a counterattack.<br />

With reinforcements<br />

from the 28th Battalion, Charlie’s<br />

platoon, and two British tanks,<br />

they charged back into the village<br />

with all guns blazing and<br />

Maori war chants electrifying the<br />

air. Unbidden, locals, including<br />

mothers and grandmothers,<br />

armed with knives, reap hooks,<br />

pitchforks, hoes and axes joined<br />

in, screaming like banshees.<br />

Kippenberger: “<strong>The</strong>re was a<br />

tremendous amount of bayonet<br />

work in Galatas. For 15 minutes<br />

there was perfect pandemonium<br />

in the village, an indescribable<br />

uproar, screams, grenade bursts<br />

and the deafening rattle of<br />

rifles, Brens and Tommy guns.<br />

<strong>The</strong> narrow cobbled street was<br />

carpeted with the dead, nearly<br />

all Germans. Every door and<br />

window had been smashed in,<br />

and dead Germans sprawled in<br />

every room by the street, with<br />

wounded on both sides walking,<br />

crawling or propped against the<br />

walls everywhere.’<br />

Chased down streets, over walls<br />

and across backyards, Germans<br />

fled in terror. But everyone knew<br />

that once they had gotten over<br />

their shock and called for reinforcements<br />

they would be back.<br />

A large painting depicting a<br />

scene of the fighting hangs on the<br />

wall of the antechamber attached<br />

to the church at Galatas. Holding<br />

a rock aloft, a bearded Cretan<br />

wearing a beret, sleeveless jerkin,<br />

breeches and knee-high leather<br />

boots stands over a cowering<br />

German. Trapped in his harness,<br />

as helpless as a bug on its back,<br />

the paratrooper is about to get his<br />

head stoved in.<br />

Beneath this violent image,<br />

sweet old ladies in black shawls<br />

eyed me suspiciously when I<br />

entered asking for directions to<br />

Stelios Tripalitakis’ war museum.<br />

Recognising my accent, an old<br />

man beamed and ushered me<br />

back into the square where I<br />

rang Stelios again. “Stay put!” he<br />

yelled. “STAY PUT!” “Sniper!”<br />

yelled the old man when I got off<br />

the phone, pointing with boyish<br />

glee to the church tower above<br />

us. For just a moment I caught<br />

glimpses of the gleeful boy who<br />

MONUMENT: <strong>The</strong> Charles Upham statue stands tall in<br />

Amberley.<br />

PHOTO: WIKIMEDIA<br />

witnessed the battle. He told me<br />

how his mother baked bread for<br />

Kiwi soldiers and he delivered it<br />

to their barricades.<br />

A belching car lurched up and<br />

Stelios leapt out. He had his book<br />

with him that featured a large<br />

collection of black-and- white<br />

photographs taken during the<br />

invasion. Included were shots of<br />

charred, rubble-strewn Galatas<br />

streets alongside shots of the<br />

same streets today, leafy and<br />

quiet. Stelios walked me to the<br />

spot where a dead Maori soldier<br />

lay in one of the photos. Despite<br />

the captions being in Greek, I<br />

purchased two copies. It was the<br />

least I could do.<br />

Stelios spends every spare<br />

moment scouring lofts, combing<br />

old battlefields with metal<br />

detectors and diving coastal<br />

waters searching for military<br />

relics and, with a bit of luck, the<br />

Crown Jewels of Greece. His<br />

bigger relics, rusting engine<br />

cowlings, chassis, motorbikes and<br />

the like, have taken over his lawn,<br />

garage and basement. Upstairs<br />

the living room is filled floor<br />

to ceiling with badges, buckles,<br />

helmets, guns and dressmakers’<br />

dummies clothed in German<br />

and British uniforms. He knows<br />

his swelling collection tests his<br />

family’s patience, but with a<br />

passion bordering on fever he<br />

wants young Cretans and young<br />

New Zealanders to never forget<br />

what happened here. You get the<br />

impression that if his wife were<br />

ever to say, “Stelios, either this<br />

s*** goes, or I do!” he would call<br />

her a cab. – NZ Herald<br />

• Searching for Charlie<br />

by Tom Scott, RRP $49.99<br />

(Upstart Press), is available<br />

now.<br />

Restoring your confidence through your smile<br />

Full service Denture Clinic<br />

and Laboratory<br />

Caldent Denture Cleaner<br />

Free Consultation<br />

No Obligation<br />

STEAM FREE<br />

BATHROOMS FOR ONLY<br />

(Incl GST) Supplied and installed<br />

$<br />

269<br />

Ph: 385 5517 + 396 Innes Road, St Albans<br />

admin@denturesplus.co.nz<br />

+ denturesplus.co.nz<br />

P: 0800 SWIPER (0800 794 737)<br />

E: info@swiper.co.nz W: swiper.co.nz

Hooray! Your file is uploaded and ready to be published.

Saved successfully!

Ooh no, something went wrong!