Te Hokowhitu-a-Tu is named after the Maori god of war, and thus it makes sense that he follows his brothers Pita and Rangi into the midst of WWII and joins the Maori Battalion. His story begins with a letter, and with enclosed journal entries from overseas, and "there are details in them that none of us ever speak about" (12). In many senses, this story could belong to any solider of WWII. Yet this story is uniquely different, as it follows three brothers and uncovers deeper secrets than those harbored in the war.

When Tu's family relocates to Wellington, they plan that Tu will be the brother that goes off to school and takes on the task of being a lawyer--they've put their hopes in him. It is already clear that Pita and Rangi are going to join the war efforts, and thus is becomes even more significant for Tu to remain at home with his mother and sisters. Yet, Tu wrote that "At seventeen I just didn't want to be a boy any longer and felt a need to break out of the family protection that has always coated me" (25). There are many Maori men and youths that joined in the war effort, and because "casualties have been extremely high and replacements are needed" recruiters were signing the Maori up at high numbers, even without proof of age (33). Even though there were cases where "younger brothers could be sent home in cases where they are more than two from the same family," Tu himself talks about knowing "of where there were five but three have died already" (35). Undoubtedly, the conditions of WWII were awful, but the one thing the brothers have going for them is that they all found each other, at one point, in the same company. They also meet up with several cousins and other important Maori chiefs.

There are many culturally specific moments in the text, including the art of the taiaha, that are discussed and add unique dimensions to the story. The authenticity is something Patricia Grace should be praised for, and in a bleak novel about war, it is good to see some of the positive attributes of Maori culture shining through. The chiefs Hemi and Gary are seen carving into their rifles, as well as painting their faces, with ornate Maori art. They are also seen showing traditional warriorhood; "We heard him shout, telling us to charge -- saw the arms splayed, the dropped tongue, the whites of eyes as we burst out from the room at a crouching run, firing our guns and making as much noise as we could" (193). Hoki atu ra' is also talked about in terms of giving "you leave so you can march out and go off to join the ancestors in that other dimension" (203).

Yet, be warned that like most novels about war, there will be many characters that you connect with (on various levels) that are killed. Three notable deaths are

Spoiler

one of the chiefs, Pita, and Rangi

. And, towards the end you uncover a family secret that Tu has been keeping. Throughout the novel there are different stories and different narrators speaking, including a 3rd person omniscient that gives background to the family's life in Wellington. It is in Wellington that the brothers meet Jess, who later drops off a baby that belongs to one of the brothers.

Spoiler

The children and family believes that Pita is the father, which implies he cheated on his wife within three months of marrying her, and that his own child is now the half-brother to Jess's child. Yet, it is revealed through Tu's letter and journal that Rangi is actually the father of the child, making the two children cousins instead

.

The end of the novel takes on an anti-war sentiment, one that is both heartbreaking and reaffirming. I will post this brilliantly written passage(s) below, but will leave it as a spoiler in case you would like to be surprised:

Spoiler

Freedom was what was being talked about, loud, loud, with a sound like banging on mess tins, But what if reasons were to do with freedom, the freedom we meant was our own freedom, the freedom and status of the people.

Our citizenship.

It was our citizenship that was discussed by our elders, by Maori politicians, by Maori in authority in the cities or back in our home places, round the gatherings of the time. There was a sense that if the Battalion didn't do well our people would die, would be shamed to death and not be worth of a good life. That's how it was. We would be doomed, scrapwood, unable to be citizens in our own land.

But now the question being asked is, was the price too high, this price of citizenship of which our elders spoke? It's the price that has left our small nation beheaded, disabled, debilitated. That's what they're saying now. I want you to know this.

Well, Niece and Nephew, a charge without delivery of goods? A price without gain, or with minus return? Of course it was too high. It was too high. We took full part in a war but haven't yet been able to take full part in peace. (279)
....

It would've been the end of all of us if it weren't for the existence of the two of you. (280)
....

So I ask one thing because there'll be other wars. It's my plea. I ask you not to follow in our footstepts, your fathers' and mine. That's all I'll ever ask. (281)

This is a beautiful narrative, one that can speak to those of us that have/have not been to war, those of us that are/are not Maori. It has a rich culturally inclusion of Maori specific content and context, but also allows for outsiders to come and read more about the Maori Battalion. Simply put, one of my favorites, despite its moments of sadness.