.”
Her cousin, John “Jack” Lloyd, was killed, his body never to return to New Zealand.
If you ever meet someone in New Zealand with the name Tunisia, or Cairo, or El Alamein or a host of other Middle Eastern, North African and Italian placenames, their whānau likely fought in the 28th Māori Battalion. Naming children, grandchildren and now great-grandchildren after key battle sites memorialises for generations those who died or were wounded.
Private Hamuera Tatana, the father of Tunisia Campbell.
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“It was more than grieving the lost. It was our awards system. You were a part of that collective, and we honour you,” says Natari Emery, who is from a whānau with four generations of names that honour soldiers from World War I and II.
The practice of naming people after significant places or events is known as Te tohi o Uenuku , a tradition that predates the world wars and Pākehā arrival in New Zealand, says Emery, a Māori language and culture lecturer at Te Wānanga o Aotearoa .
Her grandmother’s name was Tangiwairua mate ki te Pakanga , meaning “crying spirits dead to war,” a memorial to WWI. Her mother’s name continues the narrative with Ngā Iramutu Ngā roa , which roughly translates to “are the nephews and nieces”. However, she is known by her second name, El Alamein, a small Egyptian town where two decisive WWII battles were fought. The battalion played a key role in both. Emery’s nine-year-old son is Cairo, named after the location of the battalion’s training base in Egypt.
The ship Tunisia Aquitania Campbell was named after, the RMS Aquitania leaving Pipitea Wharf, Wellington on 2 May 1940.
Alexander Turnbull Library
“At my age, there were so many of us with the same name,” says El Alamein Emery, who was born in 1944, two years after the battles.
“They had to add the initials of the surname to each name because there were so many of us with the same name.”
In the 1940s, just over 50 people were born with El Alamein or the shortened Alamein as a first or second name, according to the Department of Internal Affairs. However, it is unclear if all the names are connected to WWII. There are dozens of other instances of names relating to places the battalion fought in the decades following WWII. These names include Cassino, Trieste and Faenza, three towns in Italy. Since 2020, more than 20 children born in New Zealand have the name Alamein.
The name is referenced in the opening clip of Boy , the 2010 movie from Oscar-winner and director Taika Waititi. Both the main character, whose nickname is Boy, and his father, played by Waititi, are named Alamein to memorialise the 28th Māori Battalion. Generational trauma is a theme in the film.
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The war experience for some in the battalion was particularly difficult because brothers, cousins, uncles and nephews often fought and died alongside each other, says Ron Baker, Kaumātua Vice President of 28 NZ (Māori ) Battalion Auckland Association. His father was Adjutant Captain John Baker, who fought for the battalion’s D Company. Many of Baker’s whānau have names relating to the war, including Tunis, a shortened form of Tunisia.
The battalion was organised into five companies based on geography , which meant grouping soldiers from the same iwi – and by default, the same whānau – into one company.
“When we went into battle, when we were in the fight, we were fighting with family.”
Baker’s father once described his leadership role as “like ordering your whānau to their deaths”.
Battalion service members returned to unfulfilled promises made by the government they fought for, says Emery. This included unequal resources for rehabilitation compared to Pākehā veterans.
“…when they returned, they didn’t return to jobs and benefits or homes, some of them … and the suffering that went on, for those who did return home and the lack of help and how whānau hanau got together and looked after their own.”
Orsognia Moeahu’s grandfather, Corporal Maaka Papuni, a 28th Māori Battalion veteran.
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Despite the prominence of the naming tradition, the war was often an unspoken presence for veteran whānau . Orsognia Moeahu, 64, was named by his grandfather, Corporal Maaka Papuni, a battalion veteran. Moeahu knew his name was an Italian town related to his father’s service, but he didn’t know why the location was significant (Moeahu’s name was misspelled on his birth certificate. The town’s name is spelled Orsogna).
It wasn’t until he read Dr Monty Soutar’s extensive history book about C Company 1939-1945, Nga Tama Toa: The Price of Citizenship, Nga Tama Toa .
“They only talked about the mischief times they had,” says Moeahu.
Orsognia Moeahu next to the headstone of his uncle Apiha Papuni, who followed his grandfather into the military.
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His grandfather spoke of riding camels in Egypt and singing and drinking with his comrades. In one instance, Moeahu’s grandfather stole a pig from a local farmer. He and others in C Company disguised the carcass as a dead soldier by carrying it back to camp on a stretcher, covered in a blanket with a hat on its head. To seal the ruse, they honoured the dead pig by taking their hats off as it went by.
Anzac Day is an emotional event for Moeahu, full of remembrance services that he celebrates alongside other 28th Battalion veteran whānau .
“I am very privileged to have a name like mine.”
