The Long Road Home - walking for PTSI

My name is Murray Hill. I was born a long time ago in Auckland instead of Dunedin because my father was in the Navy. He was in the navy because he was a rebel. All his uncles and father had been in the army from the time of the Boer War. Most were cavalrymen and almost all of them were wounded in either the First or Second World Wars.

In 1958 he joined HMNZS Pukaki on its return from observing a nuclear air burst as part of Operation Grapple. The ship also used water for cooling taken from down-wind of ground zero. We assume that the ship was still “hot” when it returned to New Zealand and he joined it.

Which was lucky, if you can call it that. Most of the ships crew did not live to be fifty, many of the wives had trouble conceiving or carrying to full term. I was in my thirties my doctor discovered I had been conceived as twin and I had absorbed the other as my twin had decided to start growing. The tiny lump was removed from the side of my nose.

One of the ongoing problems that are suspected to be a result of Operation Grapple is Asperger’s syndrome. My older brother has it so badly that he can’t actually see it. I have it, and my son has a milder version. He isn’t fast with speech but he is mechanically adept and he can read extremely well for a five-year-old.

In my case, I have always had a problem with anger. I stopped playing rugby because I found myself playing harder than was appropriate, particularly if I thought the other team were playing dirty. Eventually, I took up rowing where my aggression was channelled into non-contact physical exertion.

I joined the army because my father told me to. And possibly due to some romantic connection to our past we decided on the armoured corps.

This ended up with me being in 1 Scots (1st Squadron New Zealand Scottish) which was intensely involved in providing armoured mobility to the 2nd/1st Battalion. When a third company was raised our workload did not suddenly decrease. For each week that an Infantry company spent in the field, we spent two. If the entire battalion went into the field we could and did, spend up to six weeks in the field without a break.

On my first exercise, I got maybe twelve hours sleep in a week. We were driving from contact to contact, often with the .50 cal firing directly over my head. Within a year I was suffering from chronic insomnia and when I did sleep I dreamed of the muzzle flash and thumping of the .50.

I did not tell anyone and I didn’t feel there was anyone I could talk to and eventually, I asked for a transfer to the navy. I was granted a transfer because of who my father was and I completed my hydrographic training at the top of my class (three of us so don’t be too impressed). Then I was posted to HMNZS Monowai, where the wisk (whole ships coordinator) put me on one of the Oerlikon crews because they were short of gunners.

And the nightmares and insomnia began again. So, I requested a premature discharge. I didn’t actually want to leave but I didn’t feel I had any options.

I later moved back to Wellington and Joined 7WnHB RNZIR where I could get my dose of being in the army without having to live there. The nightmares made occasional reruns but have faded over time. Now I just have the Asperger’s to deal with which has already seen me fly two marriages into the mountain. I’ve also had three mini-strokes basically because food is comforting.

So obviously I don’t have as much time left as I would like to get my son ready for his great adventure and I’m doing this walk for Percy, Harry, Les and George Guyton, Robert Hill mk1 and Robert Hill mk2. And Bernie needs someone around to slap him with a map regularly.