Wheels within

The New Zealand Forest Service was a government department and its officers public servants but the idea of being of service escapes some and like any group of people there are always cliches.
It always interested me because I like to study human nature - so I observed.
I have stated elsewhere of odd runin I have had with public servants and I guess it is fair to say that we all have this little bit of power - usually over someone. How you turn out is the manner in which you exercise that power.

Honesty was expected at home, and I guess you carry that, but I think we were taught well at Christchurch Boy's High School, and at Forestry school - guys like Don Raymond and Ralph Naylor.
My philosophy was never to ask anyone (on my watch) to do anything I couldn't do. The other was that I believed we were spending public money, therefore it was my responsibility to use it wisely and appropriately.

The first that I noticed was old Bernie Bainbridge who was District 2iC. He was supposed to supervise me on my first controlled burn-off. It was trick enough, but I coped - he did not turn up. However he was full of criticism when he came the next day to have a look. I had not followed the Fire Plan because I had seen the need to protect one boundary more than a bush gulley.

Most of these guys moved to other jobs for promotion and few owned their own home. I decided I like Herbert and decided I would not apply for other jobs, so I purchased some land. There was the uproar that I could not do that! Mainly from Dunedin Office. Why? Well they could give no reason.
Laurie King, Senior Ranger, Invercargill offered me a job at Dusky Forest! No promotion, just another job! Dusky, gumboot capital of Southland! He did not take my refusal well.
But in the end I stuck it up him. There were these Wajax pump competitions held at Tapanui each year. We never entered a team because I was not interested in all the palaver. However there came the dictate we had to go. So I was trainer/team member. Old Laurie was mates with Dave Swindells who trained the Logging Team. They always won! Well we beat them and won the competion with a time very close to 1 minuite - the minute make had never been broken! We had a few innovations and also I hassled the judges, but were asked to do another run to try to break the mark. We agreed and half way down the first run, Skip Wilson, who was carrying the pump, stumbled and fell - I ran beside him and I saw he turned it into a forward roll, I grabbed the pump and assisted him to his feet. We did it in 58 seconds.
The sour faces of Laurie and Dave did not alter when in my victory speech I told them I was sorry that they just could not hack the pace. It was sweet.

I mention these things for my amusement, and of course there are many more. Some devious and unmentionable - so I won't.

But talking about devious.... my mates Albert Stringer and Jack Williamson, who was OiC.

For a while we had been making a pleasant garden area at the Forest HQ. It was coming along fine and the three of us took great pride in it.
Keith Prior was District Ranger and though he was perceived to be bumbling, most were a little afraid of him - actually I liked him.
Anyway Keith wanted to do species trials and asked me to lay out some plots for planting them out.
I was not there when the trees arrived, and I was unaware that Albert and Jack took a number of the trees and planted in the HQ garden area.
I took delivery of the plants and recorded them, and planted them out. I enjoy that sort of thing!
Come February, Keith asked me to do a survival count and report on the species trial. Hello! He wanted to know why there was a number discrepancy. Would I count them again. I was sure of my work, but said I would. Albert nor Jack said a word! My count was correct and I relayed that to Keith. Keith was angry and cast dispersions on my parentage and ability to count - he would be up in the morning to count them for himself.
Unbeknown to me, Albert and Jack went to the site with grubbers and made new planting holes then stuck dead sticks in them to look like dead trees.
The minute I saw them I knew what they had done - Keith did not tumble to it and I did not tell him. He was fairly furious with me, but encouraged by the growth of the live trees.
A few months later, as we looked around the HQ site plantings, Keith identified his 'missing' trees, by saying, 'These are doing well.' The red faces on Albert and Jack were enough for Keith and he said no more.
Years later, when he was Conservator of Forests and I Herbert's logging officer, we went to Christchurch together to try to drum up business. He asked me how those trial plots were now, and I told him that we have removed a few as a thinning operation and some had ended up in various gardens.
'Better that throwing them away.' he said, 'And the ones at HQ? You kept your tongue between your teeth eh!' He smiled.
I bear no grudge - they were good guys, just covering their own posteriors.