Ian McGibbon. Kiwi Sappers: The Corps of Royal New Zealand Engineers' Century of Service. Reed Books, in association with the Corps of Royal Engineers, Auckland, 2002. 207 pp. $39.95. ISBN 0-79000-0827-0.
Reviewed by Richard Taylor
Published to mark the centenary of the formation of the Corps of Royal New Zealand Engineers in 1902, Kiwi Sappers traces the history of New Zealand military engineering from the New Zealand Wars to the present. The very name 'sapper' is steeped in antiquity: it is derived from the medieval engineers' practice of digging beneath castle walls to undermine – or sap – their structural integrity, thereby facilitating collapse and the creation of a breach. Modern military engineers fulfil two primary functions: facilitating the movement of one's own army, and hampering that of one's opponent.
The senior British Royal Engineer at the time of the establishment of the New Zealand Engineers described a sapper as 'a man of all work of the army and the public, astronomer, geologist, surveyor, draughtsman, artist, architect, traveller, explorer, antiquary, mechanic, diver, soldier and sailor; ready to do anything or go anywhere'. In keeping with Connolly's definition, Kiwi Sappers is a fascinating story, a blend of bravery in war, nation-building in peace, and the largely unrecognised – until recently – work in reconstruction and demining operations in various locations around the world. In some ways, the history of the Corps of Royal New Zealand Engineers is the history of the New Zealand Army – at least in the sense that the Engineers have played an important part in every stage of the development of the Army in peace and war.
The Engineers' choice of Ian McGibbon, one of New Zealand's foremost military historians, was an inspired one. McGibbon, whose previous publications include the important work The Path To Gallipoli, was able to draw upon his extensive knowledge of the development of New Zealand defence during the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. The Engineers played a crucial role during this period – primarily though their work in establishing and manning harbour defences and military infrastructure, and – with the artillery – providing the core of the regular army. McGibbon's treatment of the work of the Engineers during the two World Wars focuses heavily upon the human experiences of those involved – of life in the mud-filled trenches of the Western Front, clearing mines under cover of darkness at El Alamein, or preparing defences in the South Pacific – rather than the details of operations. (These, of course, have already been covered in detail by the two excellent official war histories of the Engineers.)
The latter stages of the book deal with the Engineers' involvement in peace operations, including demining, reconstruction programmes and disaster relief in Asia, Africa, the former Yugoslavia, and the South Pacific. New Zealand engineers have earned a particularly enviable reputation for their expertise in demining. This area should not be underestimated, since demining programmes are one of the most cost-efficient forms of foreign aid assistance. Not only do they reduce the loss of life and limb amongst those who have to live with the insidious menace of modern anti-personnel mines, but they open up land for production.
The book is extensively illustrated (including pictures from the Corps' museum and members' private collections) and usefully captioned, and personal accounts are spread throughout the text.
In some respects commissioned regimental or corps histories present military historians with their greatest challenge. Given that he who pays the piper also calls the tune, there is always a danger that the book will become an exercise in sentimentality, self-promotion, or even propaganda for its funders. It is axiomatic that soldiers like to think well of themselves and their units and corps, since this enhances esprit de corps and the sense of belonging which is an inevitable feature of military life. As a serving Army officer and military historian, and the author of two regimental histories, I have experienced the conflict between telling the sponsors what they wanted to hear and retaining the detachment required of the historian. I therefore found myself reading between the lines for any trace of this dilemma, but without success. Kiwi Sappers is no public relations exercise.
In his preface, McGibbon notes that the book is intended as a general history, and that it will be supplemented in due course by a more detailed work. That, too, will be welcome – as would McGibbon's involvement as author. Nonetheless this book achieves a balance between historical rigour and accuracy on the one hand, and readability on the other. In short, Kiwi Sappers is a fine piece of work. It is a fitting tribute to the Corps and its members, and hopefully will lead to a more detailed history. Kiwi Sappers deserves a place in every New Zealand military historian's library.
Major Richard Taylor is an Education Officer in the New Zealand Army. He is the author of Comrades Brave: The History of the Hauraki Regiment and A Favoured Few: Regular Force Cadet School, 1948–1991. He is currently working on a doctoral thesis on the application of logistics during the New Zealand Wars.
