New Zealand’s military logisticians are more likely to be harmed by the conditions they create than by enemy fire, and the records often don’t exist when illness appears decades later.
Introduction
We have spent years teaching soldiers to look up and out for threats. For logisticians, the danger is just as often down in the ground they’re ordered to seize and make work at speed. Bomb‑damaged ports, airheads, railheads, fuel farms, hard standing, and battered warehouses are where supply chains are wrestled back to life. They are also where dust, residues, and fluids leave a lasting fingerprint on human health.
The uncomfortable truth is latency. Low‑to‑moderate exposures, taken in with every sweep of a broom, every cut of a disc, every lift of a drum, every hour around fuels and degreasers, rarely trigger an incident report. They build quietly under heat and exertion. The bill often arrives 10–40 years later as chronic respiratory disease, cardiovascular problems, or exposure‑associated cancers (including haematological malignancies). By then, units have disbanded, notebooks have been boxed or binned, and the link between a dusty floor in a shattered shed and a midlife diagnosis is far harder to prove.
Operational realities widen this gap. Operational tempo prioritises throughput over sampling; industrial hazards are treated as background noise; and protection is a general issue, not task-specific. In many theatres, the ethos was to get the job done. Keeping the lines moving eclipsed health and safety. The result? Too many logisticians carry “silent” injuries, not the wounds of a firefight, but the legacy of the estate underfoot.
Latency‑linked conditions to flag (illustrative, not exhaustive)
Sarcoidosis (months–years; sometimes later): an inflammatory granulomatous disease with recognised associations to inhaled particulates and combustion by-products (e.g., burn-pit smoke, fuel/solvent aerosols, mineral/metallic dusts, silica). In military logistics contexts, credible exposure pathways include routine work around burn pits, JP-8/Avtur/Avgas combustion products, and dust-rich industrial sites.
Solvents & fuels (5–25 yrs): Benzene and organic solvents are associated with haematological malignancies (e.g., AML, MDS, NHL); some degreasers are linked in studies to kidney/liver effects.
PCBs/dioxins (incl. Agent Orange/TCDD) (5–30+ yrs): non‑Hodgkin lymphoma, some soft‑tissue sarcomas, type 2 diabetes, chloracne.
Metals (varies): chromium VI → lung cancer; lead → neurological/haematological effects; cadmium → renal dysfunction and some cancers.
These are associations, not diagnoses. Individual risk depends on dose, duration, task and personal factors. The point is to signpost credible possibilities so exposure logging and follow‑up aren’t dismissed as “speculative”.
Illustrative exposure pathways reported by NZ logisticians
JP-8/Avtur/Avgas used to burn excrement (latrine waste disposal) → mixed hydrocarbon and particulate inhalation.
Proximity to burn pits for waste/rubbish disposal → complex combustion plume with fine particulates and mixed toxicants.
Asbestos exposure in damaged facilities — notably Somalia and Timor-Leste.
Pyrethrin-based insecticide ‘fogging’ for mosquitoes — operators in PPE while nearby logisticians worked without task-specific respiratory protection.
Silica and heavy dusts from industrial sites — e.g., Bougainville, living/working inside a large copper-mine building.
Somalia shows how routine logistics create hidden exposures
From late 1992 to July 1994, New Zealand rotated a dedicated Supply Platoon (43-strong, with an attached infantry section) through Mogadishu. The job was prosaic and relentless: a warehouse on the airport’s north ramp, a standing stores presence inside the port, and long days pushing relief tonnage through shattered infrastructure, at one point over 1,000 tonnes in a single month.
The ground itself told the story. Movements threaded past the ruins of an oil depot and fuel farms; across coral-sand and concrete dust; through mixed cargo residues (fertiliser, cement) laminated with marine oils and solvents; past derelict aircraft still weeping fluids, plus the familiar companions of collapse: metals, asbestos fragments, and sewage-affected water.
Protection was largely standard kit, helmets, frag vests, uniforms, rather than any specialist respiratory or dermal protection you’d expect in an industrial clean-up. The then-issue light fragmentation vest was widely regarded as unsuitable for the operating environment: confidence-boosting, yes; protective against chronic industrial exposures, no. Dress and load carriage reflected the heat and tempo more than hazard control (UN blue caps/baseball caps, PASGT helmets variably covered; relaxed working dress; webbing often set aside to work in vehicles and warehouses).
That is why ordinary tasks, sweeping bays, slinging pallets, cutting and rigging, refuelling, and marshalling MHE on contaminated hard-standing, can have extraordinary consequences years later when no one records what’s in the dust.
A recurring pattern across theatres
This is not an anomaly; it is a template visible across a century of New Zealand service:
World Wars — depots, docks, railheads (1914–19; 1939–45). Coal soot, cordite fumes, leaded petrol and chlorinated solvents in workshops; asbestos in roofing and lagging; cement and lime dust from rapid rebuilds. Throughput trumped surveys: trains to marshal, ships to turn, vehicles to repair. Hygiene focused on infection and water; industrial toxicology barely featured, so exposure notes were rare.
Korea — Kure and the Commonwealth base (1950–53). A sprawling pre-existing industrial estate re-tasked for logistics: oils, solvents and paints in abundance, metals and asbestos in shipyard fabric. NZ personnel moved through a machine built for output; documentation captured receipts and readiness, not the air and dust they worked in.
Malaya, Borneo and Singapore–Malaysia (1948–66; presence to 1989). Workshops and airstrips required fuels, degreasers, and hydraulic fluids as routine background; insecticides/defoliants were widely used; accommodations and facilities were still in the asbestos era. These were “normal” garrison tasks under tropical conditions, with latency risks unrecognised, and site hazards seldom logged.
Vietnam — Vũng Tàu and beyond (1964–72). Waste burning near lines of communication, pervasive dust, fuels/solvents, and herbicide-affected environments. Integration into Australian support chains normalised the setting; recognition came decades later at the cohort level, while many individual exposure trails remained thin.
Bougainville (1990s). Accommodation and work areas inside a large copper-mine building exposed personnel to silica-rich and metallic dust under hot, enclosed conditions.
Balkans — Bosnia/Kosovo rotations (mid-1990s–2000s). Logistics hubs established inside bomb-scarred industrial zones: transformer yards with PCBs, refineries, vehicle plants; warehouses with demolition dust and solvent films. Early-entry imperatives (“get the flow moving”) routinely outpaced site characterisation.
Timor-Leste (1999–2002). Burnt-out Indonesian-era facilities with asbestos roofing, ad-hoc waste pits, and heavy cement/brick dust from rapid repairs. Logbooks recorded cargo and convoy timings; personal exposure records were typically maintained only in the event of an incident.
Afghanistan (2003–2013). High-altitude fine dusts, continuous diesel exhaust, widespread solvent degreasing, and transits through hubs with burn-adjacent histories. The hazards were familiar yet diffuse, cumulative, not catastrophic, and thus rarely captured in neat exposure sheets.
Iraq — Taji and hub transits (from 2015). Flightline dusts, fuels/solvents, and the legacy of burn pits at specific coalition bases; constant MHE movements on contaminated hard standing. Unit logs were excellent for consignments and training cycles; environmental notes were sporadic and incident-driven.
The common pattern
Occupy damaged or industrialised ground → work at pace → accept “background” contamination as the price of tempo. Ordinary logistic tasks, such as sweeping, cutting, rigging, refuelling, and marshalling MHE, become exposure pathways, and latency hides the bill until long after the paperwork stops.
Why proof is missing — and why that shouldn’t be fatal
Exposures often fail to appear in files because command salience sits with security and throughput; coalitions churn and records fragment; hygiene doctrine long prioritised infection and water over industrial toxicology; and latency outlasts memory. Compounding this, many hazards that are now recognised and routinely mitigated, legacy asbestos, diesel-exhaust particulates and cumulative solvent exposure were, even less than thirty years ago, poorly understood or not considered in planning, PPE issues, or environmental reconnaissance. That is why Parliament enacted the Veterans’ Support Act 2014 (VSA): a benevolent, merits-based scheme that requires decision-makers to act reasonably, apply natural justice, and ensure equal treatment of equal claims.
Two schemes, same principles
The VSA operates
Scheme One (older cohorts/legacy service) and
Scheme Two (modern deployments from 1 April 1974 onwards, with a stronger rehabilitation focus).
Both schemes operate under the Act’s principle of benevolence. New Zealand adopts medical-scientific Statements of Principles (SoPs) from Australia’s Repatriation Medical Authority. Each SoP lists causal factors that, if present, link a condition to service. Two standards of proof apply: Reasonable Hypothesis (RH) for warlike/non-warlike (operational) service, a pro-veteran, lower threshold; and Balance of Probabilities (BoP) for peacetime/routine service, a higher threshold.
How decisions should run in practice.
If a relevant SoP exists, Veterans’ Affairs New Zealand (VANZ) tests the claim against it.
If the RH test is met for qualifying operational service, the claim must be accepted.
If no SoP applies or a SoP cannot neatly capture cumulative exposure, **section 15** applies: VANZ must accept the claim if it is consistent with a reasonable hypothesis based on the facts, unless there are reasonable grounds to believe it is not service‑related. This is the statutory safety‑net for thin or fragmented records.
Where veterans get tripped up when making a claim
Here is where the machinery breaks down: a process that treats missing records as the veteran’s problem and turns a benevolent scheme into an adversarial grind.
Thin records → heavy proof load on the veteran. Requests for exposure logs, sampling data, or site surveys that never existed end up weaponising the gaps the system created.
SoPs treated as gates, not guides. Complex, cumulative or novel exposures (multiple deployments, solvents, PCB yards) don’t map neatly to Statements of Principles, yet section 15 isn’t used early to accept a reasonable hypothesis.
Insurer-style posture. The process can feel adversarial, with repeated demands for “more” evidence, credibility challenges, and narrow readings of medical reports, especially when records are scarce.
Delay as denial. Multi-stage reconsideration/review/appeal stretches months into years; terminally ill veterans can die before resolution, or families inherit the burden mid-grief.
The state holds the data, while the veteran bears the risk. VANZ sits within NZDF, the institution with the records and institutional knowledge; yet, the evidential burden often rests with the ill claimant.
Language and culture mismatch. Claims framed like welfare applications rather than an earned entitlement under a State-fault scheme erode trust and deter engagement (contemporary veteran uptake is reported as extremely low).
If New Zealand truly values those who keep the lines moving, Veterans’ Affairs and the NZDF must do better: shift their efforts from surge-time forms to credible post-tour evidence so that tomorrow’s veteran has a fair shot.
When proof is already thin: build a triangle of proof
Site history: industrial uses, conflict damage, spill/burn areas, foam pads, mining legacies, and why it was dirty.
Medical trajectory: onset windows, peers with similar issues, GP/specialist notes and screening results.
Conclusion
Operationally, the principal danger to military logisticians is often not incoming fire but the estate underfoot, ground that must be made serviceable at pace and under pressure. Somalia serves as a national wake-up call: ordinary logistics in extraordinary environments, mainly undertaken in general-issue kit, with little of the exposure ever documented. Many hazards now recognised and routinely mitigated, such as legacy asbestos, diesel particulates, PCB yards, and cumulative solvent loads, were poorly understood or not considered less than thirty years ago, which only widens today’s evidential gaps.
Even so, that counsel comes too late for many operations up to the early 2000s, when industrial hazards were poorly understood and exposure logs were uncommon. Even if the chaos of early entry cannot be redesigned, commanders and agencies can still complete the process correctly by creating a usable record. A succinct post-tour bundle, filed with personnel records and the unit archive, should include:
a task/location timeline,
sketch maps and photographs of sites worked,
a note of known or likely prior industrial uses,
brief witness statements,
unit diaries and load/consignment lists,
and GP/screening notes (e.g., spirometry where relevant).
Decades later, this modest package can be the difference between a fair hearing and a polite denial. Where no bundle exists for historic tours, assemble the best available reconstruction from diaries, photos, unit logs, site histories, and medical notes.
On the claims side, practice should match principle. Decision-making ought to reflect the benevolent, merits-based intent of the law; use multiple pathways (SoPs and reasonable-hypothesis routes); and adopt a culture that investigates rather than contests. Independent oversight, separate from VANZ and NZDF, would help ensure that the absence of paperwork does not become the absence of justice.
Too often in military writing, it looks as if logistics “just happens”: an army is raised, equipment appears, stocks refill, and movement unfolds as if by instinct. In truth, nothing “just happens”. Across history—from spear-carriers and baggage trains to War Establishments and to today’s financially risk-averse, resource-restricted ecosystem—the science and art of logistics have quietly driven everything. This study uses history as a working tool: we read past practice to extract durable principles so tomorrow’s logisticians can scale deliberately, not by habit. Scaling is the mechanism that turns intent into counted people, platforms, rations, ammunition, repair parts, and lift so units arrive equipped, stay maintained, and fight at tempo. Without scaling, logistics is only an aspiration.
This guide sets out that mechanism in plain English. Across the force, the same logic applies: decide who gets what, make equipment complete and auditable, package predictably for movement, size, repair, depth to reliability and lead time, and maintain theatre resilience. Peace and war establishments are simply the entitlement “switch”; in-scaling and out-scaling dial the system up and down; and sound master data keeps automation honest. We ground the method in British and Commonwealth doctrine and New Zealand practice, using short case studies to show what works, what doesn’t, and why—so logisticians can make the deliberate, evidence-based choices that turn plans into assured sustainment.
In- and Out-Scaling
Scaling is how the system is dialled up or down. In-scaling builds people, equipment, stocks and permissions to meet a new or larger task. Out-scaling winds the same back down, tidying books and kit so the force is ready for what follows. The levers are the same; they move in opposite directions.
When to scale up
New equipment or a role change.
Mounting for deployment/exercises.
Seasonal/theatre shifts or higher tempo.
When to scale down
End of operation/rotation.
Capability withdrawn or mothballed.
Restructure or budget-driven footprint reduction.
What actually changes
People & entitlements: switch Peace Entitlement →War Entitlement, or role, issue the correct allowance lists.
Equipment completeness: make kit complete; rectify shortages; test.
Consumables & ammunition: set straightforward block issues and first-line loads that match the plan.
Spares & repair: size unit/depot spares to likely failures and lead times; preserve kit for storage/return.
Movement & footprint: translate scales into real loads (pallets/containers/ULDs) and book lift.
Data, compliance & money: update masters, licences and registers; close work orders; reconcile ledgers.
Planned and evidence-based (not guesses)
Scaling is a scientific, planned discipline with explicit service levels. Holdings are set from demand, reliability and lead-time data. Rules of thumb—for example, “carry 10% spares”—are avoided in favour of sizing to the target service level.
Common Pitfalls (and the Scaling Fixes)
Scaling is part science, part art. Some of the traps are timeless:
Issuing too much– Forgetting to adjust entitlements to actual strength leads to waste.
Repair underestimates– Peacetime spares won’t cope with wartime tempo; you need to scale for climate, usage, and lead times.
Lift blindness– A plan that looks neat on paper may be impossible to move unless scales are mapped to pallets, containers, or aircraft loads.
Footprint risk– Piling too much stock too far forward makes units vulnerable. Balance depth with dispersion.
Deep Historical Context: From Hoplite to Legionary to Tümen
From antiquity to the steppe, Rome and—centuries later—the Mongol Empire show how standardised building blocks, fixed measures and modular kits turned formations into predictable logistics: the Romans through contubernia, rations and marching camps; the Mongols through decimal organisation, remounts and the yam relay.
Greek city-states (c. 6th–4th centuries BCE): The Phalanx as a Scale
Standard fighting load. The hoplite panoply (shield, spear, helmet, body armour) functioned as a personal equipment scale; city‑states enforced patterns so men fought as interchangeable blocks.
Rations and measures. Planning by standard measures (e.g., set grain issues per man per day) made food and water predictable, and hence movable.
Formation → sustainment. Dense heavy infantry implied slower roads and higher baggage/forage demand—an early proof that formation design fixes the sustainment scale (wagons, pack animals, camp followers).
Rome (c. 2nd century BCE – 3rd century CE): Scaling by Modular Blocks and Doctrine
Contubernium as the “unit set.” Eight soldiers shared a mule, tent, tools and cooking gear—a micro‑scale that multiplied cleanly to centuries, cohorts and legions.
“Marius’ mules.” Standardising the soldier’s carry (a first-line load) reduced trains forward, while heavier impedimenta marched to the rear—an ancestor of today’s 1st line vs 2nd line.
Daily ration and marching camp. Fixed grain allowances, routine camp layouts, ditch/stake quantities, and normalised road days enable staff to convert order of battle into tonnage, tools, time, and space—the essence of scaling.
State supply. The Annona, roads and depots added a strategic tier of standardised contracts, weights and distances—scaling endurance to seasons, not days.
The Roman Cohort Illustration by Peter Dennis. Credit: Warlord Games Ltd.
The Mongol Empire under Chinggis (Genghis) Khan (13th century): Decimal Organisation and Portable Sustainment
Decimal structure = instant multipliers. Arban (10), zuun (100), mingghan (1,000), tümen (10,000) created a universal grammar of scale: equip and feed an arban, and you can multiply to a tümen without changing the recipe.
Remounts as a ration of mobility. A scale of remount horses per warrior standardised range and resilience; spare mounts were the mobility equivalent of extra fuel cans.
Self-contained field kits. Common personal kits (bows in standard bundles, lariats, spare strings, tools, felt gear) and household tents/carts made each decimal block logistically modular.
The yam relay. A state courier/relay network with post‑stations and passes pre‑scaled communications and light logistics into predictable legs.
Task‑tailored attachments. Siege/engineering blocks bolted onto the cavalry core when required—early attachments on a standard base.
Genghis Khan’s empire and campaigns. Wikimedia
Throughline: A formation is a logistics equation. Standard measures enable standard issues. Modularity makes mass possible.
The Nineteenth‑Century Step Change — Britain’s Army Equipment System (1861–66)
In the reform decades after Crimea, the War Office published the seven‑part Army Equipment series (Artillery; Cavalry; Infantry; Royal Engineers; Military Train; Commissariat; Hospital).[1] Each volume tied official organisation to authorised equipment lists, weights, measures (often prices), transport tables, and packing/marking rules. Once you knew the unit—infantry battalion, artillery battery, engineer company, or Military Train echelon—you could multiply the lists and convert entitlements into lift and sustainment. Support arms were treated as modular blocks (e.g., Commissariat trades; Hospital sets) scaled to force size and role.
What changed: This turned scaling into a published operating system for logistics—standard nomenclature matched ledgers; weights and measures turned entitlement into tonnage; common patterns let staff scale issues, movement and maintenance simply by multiplying unit counts.
Example of a table from Army Equipment. Part V. Infantry 1865
Peace vs War Establishment — The Scaling “Switch”
Establishments are the authorised blueprints for people, vehicles, weapons, tools and key stores—held in two states:
Peace Establishment (PE): Cadre‑heavy and economical (training scales, minimal transport; many posts unfilled; war‑only items held centrally).
War Establishment (WE): Fully manned and fully equipped (complete Equipment and first/second‑line holdings; authorised transport and attachments—signals, medical, supply/transport, maintenance—baked in).
Mobilisation tops up PE to WE: fill personnel (Regulars/Reservists/Territorials), issues unit entitlement, builds lift and repair depth, loads first-line holdings, form attachments, and declares readiness. Because WEs link directly to scales, a unit can be multiplied and supported predictably. In service terms, the scaled package is then delivered through various types of support—integral, close, general, and mounting—each tailored to those entitlements and holdings.
Types of support.
Integral — organic, first-line support within the unit. (1st Line)
Close — formation troops forward, delivering time-sensitive commodities and quick repair/recovery. (2nd Line)
General — force-level support to the whole formation (bulk stocks, distribution, heavy repair). (3rd line; sometimes spans to 4th depending on the army)
Mounting — generating/equipping/marshalling the force before deployment. (a pre-deployment phase, not a “line”)
(Illustrative maxim) Alter one allowance, alter the lift: add a blanket per man, and you add wagons to the transport scale. Scaling is a system—inputs ripple into horses, drivers and wagons.
Late Victorian to 1914 — Scaling Rehearsed in Peace (NZ)
New Zealand did not drift into World War I. In the years following the war in South Africa and especially under the Territorial Force (from 1910), planners adapted British military establishments to practical peacetime scales and rehearsed them. Camp equipment was centralised and issued according to published scales for the 1913 brigade camps. Districts drew against these scales, and returns/refurbishment were managed according to plan. To ensure the issue/return machine functioned efficiently, temporary Ordnance Depots were established for the 1913 camps (and again for the 1914 divisional camps), staffed with clerks and issuers under regional storekeepers—so requisition, issue, receipt, and repair all followed a single process.[2]
Example of New Zealand Camp Equipment Scale 1913
In parallel, the Defence Stores professionalised: permanent District Storekeepers were appointed, and an intensive store management course produced Quartermaster Sergeants for every infantry and mounted regiment, tightening the link between unit ledgers and district depots. By early 1914, the force had been inspected and judged to be well-armed and well-equipped, and mobilisation regulations—adapted from British directives—were issued in March 1914, aligning establishments, ledgers, and stocks.[3] The result was a pre‑war system that treated scaling as a living routine, not an emergency improvisation.
World Wars & Interwar — Scaling at Industrial Tempo (UK & NZ), 1914–45
First World War (1914–18).
The British Army’s War Establishments and matching scales of equipment underwrote rapid expansion from Regulars to Territorials to Kitchener’s New Armies.[4] New formations could be raised and fitted out by template—weapons, tools, transport, ammunition, clothing, medical stores and repair parts, all mapped from the WE. For a smaller force such as New Zealand, alignment with British establishments and scales enabled swift mobilisation and five years of sustained operations.
Saddlers Toolkit – Handbook of Military Artificers 1915
Interwar (1919–39)
Rather than a pause, this period saw refinement and governance of scaling. G1098 (AFG1098) matured as the unit‑level ledger linking establishment to holdings; mobilisation store tables and Clothing/Equipment Regulations were revised; Dominion practice tightened accounting controls and depot procedures. From 1935, although New Zealand lacked a standing field army, planners tracked British developments closely—each new War Establishment, scale and entitlement as it was published—and adapted them to local conditions (manpower, industry, shipping distances and climate). Thus, when mobilisation began in 1939–40, New Zealand could raise, equip, and structure its forces on modern British templates, rather than through improvisation.
Second World War (1939–45)
Scaling went fully industrial. Theatre-specific clothing scales, bulk demand procedures for ordnance, formal first/second‑line holdings, and push vs pull replenishment methods were used to keep tempo while protecting scarce lift and stocks. Units continued to work to WE/scale templates, with depots, railheads and parks sized to the calculated flows.[5]
Ammunition Loads – Ordnance Manual (War) 1939
Case Study — Greece 1941: mis-scaled ordnance support
Context. In March 1941, the New Zealand Division deployed three Independent New Zealand Ordnance Corps (NZOC) Brigade Workshops and eleven LADs to Greece, with the attached British Royal Army Ordnance Corps (RAOC) 1 Ordnance Field Park (1 OFP) providing forward spares and stores.[6] Pre-deployment consultation was thin; scaling assumptions followed British fleet patterns rather than New Zealand holdings.
What went wrong (the scaling error).
Wrong spares mix. 1 OFP was scaled for Internationals and Crossleys; the NZ Division fielded neither in any number (only two Crossleys), so much of the forward lift didn’t match the fleet it had to support.
Assumptive, not analytical. Holdings mirrored generic expectations instead of the Division’s actual G1098s, failure rates, and service-level targets.
Coalition data gap. Equipment data and entitlement tables weren’t reconciled across national lines before movement.
Consequences in theatre.
Readiness lost at the point of need. Lift and time were consumed carrying low-utility spares forward.
Workarounds required. Support hinged on the subset that did match (e.g., Ford, 25-pdr, 2-pdr, spring steel, sheet/rod metals, compressed air, general items) plus local supplementation—enough to keep NZ Workshops going, but with friction and delay.
Campaign outcome. The Greek campaign collapsed into evacuation (and then Crete), compounding the cost of the initial scaling miss.
Fix and regeneration (the recovery).
Rebuild in Egypt. NZOC consolidated with RAOC/Maadi resources and formed the NZ Divisional OFP on 28 July 1941, explicitly scaled to NZ kits.
Deliberate scale-up. Through August–September the OFP built to scale, trained on ordnance accounting, and aligned data to reality.
Right-sized footprint. By late 1941 the OFP held 4 officers, 81 ORs and 27 three-ton lorries configured for OFP stores—turning scaling from assumption into a planned capability.
Practical fixes (what should have been done).
Make scaling scientific. Use master data, reliability/failure rates, demand and lead-time to size spares and blocks; set explicit service-level targets.
Don’t rely on rules of thumb. Ditch “10% spares” heuristics—scale to the actual fleet and mission.
Close coalition gaps early. Reconcile equipment and entitlement tables across partners before you book the lift.
Translate scales to footprint. Convert to pallets/containers/ULDs with correct packaging and documents; protect the lift.
Capture and apply lessons. After action, cleanse data, adjust, and rebuild to standard—exactly what the NZ Div OFP did after Greece/Crete.
Takeaway. Scaling only works when it’s fleet-true, data-driven and coalition-aligned. Get that right pre-deployment, and your forward park becomes a force multiplier rather than a passenger.
Post-War Evolution — From a Single List to an Integrated Entitlement System (NZ Focus)
Example of AFG1098 Accessories and Spares for Bren .303 M.G
Post-1945 fleets—communications, electrics, vehicles, and specialist plant—stretched the old, flat G1098 list. By the late 1950s–60s, practice matured into three coordinated instruments:[7]
Entitlement (Equipment) Tables— the core “who gets what” by unit role and establishment.
Complete Equipment Schedules (CES) — the “what is complete” list for each equipment set (every component, tool, accessory), doubling as the accounting document for that set.
Block Scales — pooled non-CES items and everyday consumables (stationery, training stores, domestic items) expressed as ready-to-issue blocks.
New Zealand’s tailored, Commonwealth-compatible model (1960s)
The New Zealand Entitlement Table (NZET) became the hub, explicitly incorporating New Zealand CES (NZCES) items (and their components), New Zealand Block Scales (NZBS) for non‑CES stores, and first‑line maintenance packs such as FAMTO (First Aid Mechanical Transport Outfit) and FATSO (First Aid Technical Stores Outfit) so operators could keep equipment serviceable between deeper repairs.[8]
By the early 1970s a further pillar emerged: New Zealand Repair Parts Scales (NZRPS). From the late 1960s, these began to replace earlier “spare parts lists,” folding FAMTO and FATSO in as first‑line modules of a wider repair‑chain planning scale—so unit Prescribed Load Lists (PLL) (days‑of‑cover + pipeline), formation Authorised Stockage Lists (ASLs) (service level over replenishment time) and theatre reserves were all sized from the same tempo/lead‑time/reliability factors. In short, repair provisioning became a single, scalable chain from operator kits through to depot depth.
Case Study — Malaysia & Vietnam (1965–1972): combined scaling to autonomy
Context. New Zealand kept a battalion in Malaysia/Singapore with 28 (Commonwealth) Brigade while rotating a rifle company into Vietnam under 1 ATF—three systems at once (British, Australian, NZ) with different entitlements, CES, paperwork and spares. The task was to turn them into one workable load for training in Malaysia and fighting in Phước Tuy.
What worked (the scaling approach).
One combined scale, three sources. Cross-walked UK/AUS entitlements to NZ holdings; set approved equivalents for non-matching items.
Climate-first. Tropical scales for clothing/boots/personal kit; higher replacement factors and wider size ranges.
CES by platform. Normalised vehicle/tool sets so workshops and lift could be planned regardless of source nation.
Local industrial equivalents. Qualified NZ-made clothing, boots, webbing and small stores to UK/AUS specs to cut lead-times and dependency.
Liaison & data discipline. NZ LOs embedded in 1 ATF/FARELF to keep demand, returns and credits clean; part codes aligned early.
People matched to plan. Increased NZ movements, supply and maintenance manning in Malaysia and in-theatre.
Results.
Seamless support in Vietnam. Routine sustainment via Australian pipelines; NZ-specific items flowed via Malaysia/Singapore with minimal friction.
Fewer workarounds, faster repair. Equivalence lists and aligned CES cut “near-miss” parts and sped turnarounds.
Why it mattered later.
As UK/AUS withdrew from Malaysia in the early 1970s, NZ’s habits—combined scales, clean data, boosted manning and a growing local supply base—left the battalion near-logistically independent.
NZ-made equivalents added depth and resilience, enabling New Zealand-led sustainment.
What to copy.
Build a cross-walk early and lock approved equivalents in SOPs.
Scale for climate and task (clothing, rations, POL, repair parts).
Embed liaison/data stewards with partners.
Man to the plan—grow workshops, supply and movements to match scale.
Qualify local industry to shorten lead-times and strengthen sovereignty.
Takeaway. Combine partner scales with NZ holdings, qualify local equivalents, and resource the logisticians—then a company can fight in Vietnam while a battalion trains in Malaysia, and the force is ready to stand on its own as partners draw down..
From Printed Tables to Digital Systems (1960s–today)
Until the 1980s, scaling was a manual staff drill: planners worked from printed tables, equipment series, mobilisation stores tables and unit instructions, doing the maths by hand—later with basic calculators—and re-checking totals across ledgers and load tables. With computer-based logistics, the arithmetic and cross-checks moved into software: entitlement look-ups, strength-based calculations, days-of-cover policies, lift planning from pack/weight data, and target-setting from demand history. The gains were speed, consistency, auditability and the ability to model scenarios.
Many forces—including New Zealand—progressed from electric accounting machines and mainframes to enterprise ERPs by the late twentieth century, with deployable tools to support entitlement planning. Automation expanded what staff could calculate quickly; it did not replace the need for clear, maintained scales.
Crucially, automation only works with sound data and governance. Organisations change, equipment is updated, and missions evolve; unless master data—organisational structures/establishments, item masters/part numbers, CES versions, block-scale definitions, repair parts scales and links to maintenance task lists—is kept current under change control, systems will produce inconsistent outputs. The principle is simple: keep entitlements, scales and planning factors aligned across supply, maintenance and movement. Contemporary doctrine reinforces this, emphasising information systems for visibility and decision-making, underpinned by disciplined data stewardship.
Case Study — Somalia 1993: when scaling wasn’t applied (and what changed)
Context. New Zealand contingents in Somalia (1992–94) deployed into extreme heat and vehicle-centred tasks, yet much of the kit reflected a temperate, barracks-oriented baseline—signs that entitlements and CES were not re-scaled for climate, role, or threat. To add insult to injury, the advance party deployed into an active conflict zone without weapons. Part of the reason it went wrong was that, at the time, the Army was not configured for rapid expeditionary operations.
What should have been scaled—but wasn’t. Hot-weather clothing and headgear; body armour matched to the threat; vehicle-friendly load carriage; and weapon accessories (e.g., pistol holsters) to match in-service weapons.
Consequences. Under-utilised scale (issued items set aside for improvised workarounds), inconsistent appearance/ID in theatre, and slower adaptation when the threat rose.
After-action learning—Bosnia as the correction. The Army was embarrassed by the Somalia experience and did learn. Subsequent Bosnia deployments were better resourced and equipped: theatre-specific clothing and boots were prioritised; body armour and load-carriage were selected for the task and climate; weapon ancillaries were matched before deployment; and theatre SOPs were clarified. In short, the levers of scaling were applied up-front instead of improvised in theatre.
Takeaway. Treat scaling as deliberate tradecraft before wheels-up: set climate-appropriate clothing scales, match armour and load-carriage to tasks, close ancillary gaps, and codify it all in SOPs. Do that, and the force arrives ready; skip it, and soldiers will improvise uneven fixes in contact.
Why Scaling Matters
Doctrinally, scaling underpins the core logistics principles—Responsiveness, Simplicity, Economy, Flexibility, Balance, Foresight, Sustainability, Survivability and Integration—by turning intent into standard, reusable units of effort.[9]
Budget reality. Scales translate limited resources into repeatable outputs. They allow commanders to make explicit trade-offs between cost, risk, and tempo, and they expose the carrying costs of options (people, stock, space, lift) before money is spent. In fiscally constrained settings, scales are the difference between a force that looks large and a force that lasts. (Then and Now)
Control. Replaces ad‑hoc estimates with standard, repeatable calculations.
Agility. Dial effort up for surge or down for economy without needing to rewrite plans.
Interoperability. Standard blocks and tables let allies plug in seamlessly.
Assurance. Creates an audit trail for readiness claims and expenditure.
Risk management. Ties stock depth and footprint to threat, distance and tempo.
Instruments of Scaling — Quick Guide
When logisticians talk about “scales,” they’re really talking about ways of turning entitlements on paper into real-world stocks, vehicles, or pallets. A few of the main ones are:
Tables of Entitlement – These are the official “allowance lists” for units. They can be adjusted depending on the number of people present, the role the unit is playing, or even the climate. They shape both the unit’s footprint and its initial kit issue.
CES (Complete Equipment Schedules) – Every vehicle or platform comes with a kit list. Multiply that by the number of platforms, add any mission-specific kits, and you get both the accounting baseline and a sense of what workshops and lift have to carry.
Block Scales – Think of these as pre-packed bundles: ammunition, rations, POL (petrol, oil, lubricants), water, consumables, even stationery. They’re designed in mission-length chunks that map directly onto pallets, containers, or sorties.
Ration Scales — Per-person, per-day entitlements (e.g., fresh, composite, MRE/24-hour packs). Sized by headcount and duration, with first-line holdings at unit level and theatre stocks behind them.
Fuel Scales (POL) — Daily fuel requirements derived from platform consumption and tempo (include generators/heaters). Planned as bulk and/or packaged supply with defined reserves.
Clothing & Personal Equipment Scales — Initial issue and replacement factors (boots, uniforms, cold-weather gear). Driven by climate and wear-rates; size ranges require buffer stock. Set climate-specific scales; use approved equivalents across NZ/Allied patterns
Repair Parts Scales – Units carry a few days’ worth of spares on hand, while second-line supply aims to hold enough to cover expected breakdowns over the lead time.
First-Line Ammunition – This is the starter load troops carry into action, balanced against how quickly resupply can arrive.
WMR/DOS (War Maintenance Reserve/Days of Supply) – Larger-theatre stockpiles held to cushion delays or enemy interdiction.
All of this contributes to the classic push versus pull distinction. Push works best when demand is predictable (e.g., food, water, combat supplies), while pull suits variable or diagnostic needs (e.g., spare parts, casualty evacuation). Each commodity sits somewhere on that spectrum, and stock policies need to reflect that.
Scaling in Practice — A Common Framework
The beauty of scaling is that it works at every level. The same levers—entitlements, CES, block scales, repair parts, first-line ammunition, and WMR/DOS—apply whether you’re supporting a corps or a rifle section. The only difference is the number of multiples and echelons involved.
In effect, the same logic sizes a divisional-level park to last a day and a platoon’s first-line to last an opening skirmish. A section’s water is just the smallest expression of the same logic. What matters is anchoring decisions to the wider continuum—tactical, operational, and strategic—so that what a company carries dovetails with what the theatre holds in depth.
Case Study – 3 NZ Div reverse logistics (out-scaling best practice)
Context & scale. When 3 New Zealand Division was withdrawn from the Pacific in 1944, New Zealand executed a full reverse lift and regeneration: over 50,000 line items, 3,274 vehicles (plus 25 tanks) and tonnes of ammunition and supplies were received, cleaned, repaired, repacked and re-issued or disposed of—without forklifts or computers. Mangere Crossing Camp (ex-US “Camp Euart”) became the hub, with 200,000 sq ft of warehousing and a rail siding that ran straight into the storage blocks, allowing trains to off-load directly under cover. Work parties manually handled 250,000 packages averaging 45 kg, and about 10,000 tonnes of mixed stores arrived in the first three months from August 1944; the whole evolution concluded by July 1945.[10]
Method—how it worked.
Pre-exit accounting. Quartermasters across 90 accounting units completed inventories and packing lists in New Caledonia before lift.
Reception & triage. On arrival at Mangere, loads were checked against documents, segregated by condition, and queued for cleaning/repair.
Restore for re-use. Items were cleaned, repaired and repacked to unit standard, then presented for inspection.
Audit & acceptance. Main Ordnance Depot staff and Defence auditors enforced exacting standards; discrepancies were explained and cleared before acceptance.
Disposition. Serviceable materiel moved to Trentham (Main Ordnance Depot) or Hopuhopu (Northern District); many vehicles to Sylvia Park for onward issue; surplus or damaged items were transferred to the War Assets Realisation Board for sale or disposal.
Constraints & workarounds. With no MHE or IT, the system relied on infrastructure (rail-to-warehouse flow), disciplined paperwork, and hard, organised labour. Quartermasters—often not career logisticians—proved adaptable under high audit pressure, demonstrating that well-designed processes can substitute for technology when needed.
Why this is out-scaling done right.
Treated dismantling as deliberately as build-up—planned reverse from theatre to home base.
Aligned supply, maintenance and movement tasks (clean/repair/repack embedded in the flow).
Used fixed infrastructure to compensate for missing tools (rail siding, large covered floors).
Kept data discipline central: inventories, packing lists and audits drove every hand-off.
Produced a regeneration effect—restored force elements, cleared accounts and returned value to the system—on a national scale.
Takeaway. Reverse logistics is not an afterthought. Plan the out-scaling from day one, resource the reception base, couple repair with receipt, and enforce documentation—then even a technology-light force can bring a division home cleanly and quickly.
3 NZ Division Tricks and Tanks parked at Main Ordnance Depot, Mangere Bulk Depot on their Return from the Pacific in 1944 (Colourised). Alexander Turnbull Library
Conclusion
From the hoplite’s panoply and Rome’s contubernium to the Mongol tümen; from the Victorian Army Equipment series to modern War Establishments and today’s Entitlement–CES–Block toolkit (including NZ’s FAMTO/FATSO), the lesson is constant: scaling is the lifeblood of logistics. It turns intent into counted people, platforms, ammunition, spares, and lift—precisely, repeatably, and at the tempo operations demand.
In practice, scaling provides a standard framework: entitlement tables specify who receives what; CES ensures equipment is complete and auditable; block scales package predictable consumables for movement; repair-parts scales establish first- and second-line resilience; and WMR/DOS provides theatre depth. The art is in balancing the push for predictability with the pull for diagnostic, variable demands.
This is not optional tradecraft. Every headquarters and every trade must treat scaling—and the data that underpins it—as core business. Keep establishments current, masters clean, and paper scales translated into real pallets, bookings and stocks so that automation amplifies judgment rather than propagating error. Do this and the force can surge, re-role and wind down cleanly; neglect it and you invite a modern reprise of the Crimean lesson—impressive on paper, unsustainable in contact. Scaling is how intent becomes assured movement and sustainment.
Notes
[1] The Secretary of State for War, “Part 2 – Artillery,” Manual of Army Equipment (1861), https://rnzaoc.files.wordpress.com/2018/08/army-equipment-part-2-artillery-1861.pdf; The Secretary of State for War, “Part 1 – Cavalry,” Manual of Army Equipment (1863); The Secretary of State for War, “Part 5 – Infantry,” Manual of Army Equipment (1865); The Secretary of State for War, “Part 6 – Commissariate Department,” Manual of Army Equipment (1865), https://rnzaoc.files.wordpress.com/2018/08/army-equipment-part-6-commissariat-department-1865-1.pdf; The Secretary of State for War, “Part 4 – Military Train,” Manual of Army Equipment (1865); The Secretary of State for War, “Part 7 – Hospital,” Manual of Army Equipment (1865); The Secretary of State for War, “Part 3 – Royal Engineers,” Manual of Army Equipment (1866).
[10] Francis Arthur Jarrett, “2NZEF – 2 NZ Divisional Ordnance Field Park – Report – F Jarret,” Archives New Zealand Item No R20109405 (1944); “QMG (Quartermaster-Generals) Branch – September 1939 to March 1944,” Archives New Zealand Item No R25541150 (1944); “HQ Army Tank Brigade Ordnance Units, June 1942 to January 1943,” Archives New Zealand Item No R20112168 (1943).
During World War Two, New Zealand traditionally relied on the United Kingdom for its military equipment. However, the rapid expansion of New Zealand’s military and the looming threat of invasion by Japan necessitated a shift in strategy. New Zealand needed substantial war material, and the United States became a crucial source of support. As the post-war era unfolded, the New Zealand Army underwent reorganisation. It soon became evident that the country’s military warehouses and ammunition depots were overflowing with surplus war material. In a strategic move aimed at bolstering New Zealand’s national security and supporting its allies in their efforts to contain Communism in Southeast Asia, New Zealand decided to transfer a significant number of surplus arms and ammunition held in RNZAOC Depots across the country to the French authorities in Indochina. This transfer was free of charge and represented New Zealand’s commitment to international efforts during the Cold War era.
In the post-World War II era, the NZ Army, shaped by the 2nd NZEF of WW2, comprised an Infantry Division with integrated Artillery, Armoured, and Logistics elements. The strategic thinking of the time envisioned the deployment of an NZ Division to the Middle East alongside British formations. Despite relying on the United States for war material during the previous conflict and having significant stock of American equipment in storage, the NZ Army maintained its armament and equipment aligned with British patterns, including weapons, uniforms, and gear[1]. By 1952, France was facing challenges in retaining control over Indochina. Despite receiving a monthly supply of 7200 tons of material from the United States, it still fell short of meeting its requirements[2]. Recognizing the existence of substantial stockpiles of surplus British and American equipment across Asia and Australasia, the French initiated purchasing missions to acquire this surplus equipment.[3]
In response to French requests, New Zealand announced in September 1952 that it would provide, at no cost, weapons and ammunition of American origin, which differed in calibre from those used by New Zealand forces. This shipment comprised lend-lease weapons urgently supplied to New Zealand in 1942. These arms had been utilized by the Home Guard and some New Zealand units in the Pacific, especially in conjunction with RNZAF units co-located with American Forces. Permission for the transfer had been sought and obtained from the United States. T. C. Webb, the Minister of External Affairs, confirmed that a significant portion of this consignment was delivered to Singapore aboard HMNZS Bellona and subsequently shipped to French Indochina.[4]This initial shipment included:[5]
13,000 Springfield M1903 rifles in .30-inch calibre
700 machine guns in .30-inch calibre
670,000 rounds of small arms ammunition in .30-inch calibre (SAA)
In early 1953, Major General Gentry, the Chief of the NZ General Staff, met with General Henri Navarre, the French Commander-in-Chief, in Saigon to discuss the transfer of surplus military equipment. Following Gentry’s report on this meeting, the New Zealand Government offered surplus equipment to the French authorities. As the situation in Indochina, notably, the Battle of Dien Bien Phu, was deteriorating for the French, a French Military mission comprising Lieutenant-Colonel Cathala and Captain Mugg arrived in Auckland on September 10, 1953, for a two-week visit to inspect the equipment and assess its suitability for use in Indochina.[6]
Reinforcements occupying positions in the dugouts during the battle of Dien Bien Phu, March 3 1954
After final inspections, the Main Ordnance Depot in Trentham consolidated the identified equipment and loaded it onto a British vessel at Wellington in early March 1954.[7] The equipment dispatched to Indochina included:[8]
500 Revolvers,
3000 .30inch calibre Springfield M1903 rifles
750 .30inch calibre Machine Guns,
50 40mm Bofors anti-aircraft guns and ammunition,
10000 round of 37m armour-piercing shot,
Wireless Sets
Field Telephones,
Charging Sets
Assorted Uniform Items
670000 rounds of .30inch calibre SAA
Bofors Guns Trentham, 1 March 1954. Evening Post illustrations file and prints. 1950-2000. (PA-Group-00685). [Series]
After the French surrendered at Dien Bien Phu on 7 May 1954, and the final withdrawal of French Forces from Vietnam was completed by April 1956, it is doubtful that the small New Zealand contribution of weapons and equipment provided any significant assistance to the French. Nevertheless, this equipment might have found utility in the newly formed nation of South Vietnam or on other French colonial battlefields.
Despite the modest quantity of material supplied, Mr. Noel Henry, the French Minister to New Zealand, expressed the French Government’s gratitude to New Zealand. He acknowledged that New Zealand had done all it could within its limited means.[9]
Notes
[1] Damien Fenton, A False Sense of Security: The Force Structure of the New Zealand Army 1946-1978, Occasional Paper / Centre for Strategic Studies: New Zealand: No. 1 (Centre for Strategic Studies: New Zealand, Victoria University of Wellington, 1998), Bibliographies, Non-fiction.
[2]N.S. Nash, Logistics in the Vietnam Wars, 1945-1975 (Pen & Sword Military, 2020), 63.
[3] Charles R. Shrader, A War of Logistics: Parachutes and Porters in Indochina, 1945-1954, Foreign Military Studies (University Press of Kentucky, 2015), Non-fiction, 134.
[4] “NZ Gives Arms to French,” Press, Volume LXXXVIII, Issue 26838, 17 September 1952.
[5]New Zealand Foreign Policy: Statements and Documents 1943-1957, Ministry of Foreign Affairs (Wellington: Government Printer 1972).
[6] “Arms for Indo China,” Press, Volume LXXXIX, Issue 27192, 9 November 1953.
[7] “Arms Aid for Indo-China,” Press, Volume XC, Issue 27332, 24 April 1954.
[8] Roberto Giorgio Rabel, New Zealand and the Vietnam War: Politics and Diplomacy (Auckland University Press, 2005), Bibliographies, Non-fiction.
Today we mark the passing of a major influence on this website, Major Rtd Joseph Seymour Bolton (1947-2020).
Joe authored the History of the RNZAOC that was published 1992 and it was with his blessing and encouragement that I have continued on this webpage the expansion of his original research to unpack the history of the RNZAOC.
Joe joined the New Zealand Army as a Regular Force Cadet in the Bennett class of 1963. On completion of his RF Cadet Training, Joe graduated into the RNZAOC on 2 May 1965.
Joe would have a varied and interesting career as an RNZAOC Soldier and Officer, including;
Operational service in South Vietnam during 1970
Service in the Solomon Island with the first Tranch of RNZAOC ATO’s and AT’s clearing the islands of WW2 munitions.
Officer Commanding NZAOD, Singapore: 21 May 1982 to 10 May 1984
Chief Instructor, RNZAOC School: May 1985 to December 1986
Chief Ammunition Technical Officer: 1986 to 1988
In 1988 Joe was awarded the RNZAOC 20-year certificate for service from 2 May 1965 to 2 May 1988.
In Joe’s post-military career, he would continue to maintain an interest in the RNZAOC and manage the RNZAOC mailing list, sending out notifications on the passing of a Corps member or other such important information.
I never worked with Joe while he was serving, but got to know him when he was working a civilian in the CATO Branch. As I was working upstairs in Ops/Plans as the Policy WO, I would often refer to Joe as the expert on ammunition policy issues. Often a short question on ammunition would turn into a lengthy conversation about RNZAOC History. Many years later, as I was beginning to foray into RNZAOC research, we would catch up on the Rembermance Days in Palmerston North as the Poppy Places Charitable Trust, a passion of Joe’s in later years, unveiled their distinctive street signs. It was at these brief meeting we would discuss the progress of my research and the future direction.
RIP Joe
Sua Tele Tonnti
Major Joe Bolton Officer Commanding NZAOD receiving the Higgins Cup RFL Trophy form the New Zealand Director of Ordnance Services LtCol T.D McBeth.
Lieutenant Colonel Ron Cross is a military man through and through, A Regular Force Cadet, Artilleryman, Infantryman, a Graduate of the Officer Cadet School, Portsea and RNZAOC Officer, including a stint as Chief instructor of the Ordnance School from November 1972 to August 1974 and Officer Commanding of the NZAOD from April 1976 to May 1978, Ron is a proud soldier.
In this Memories of Service video produced by the New Zealand Returned Services Associaton. Ron recounts the experiences that shaped his life. Joining up as a regular Army Cadet, Ron served in both the Malayan conflict and the Vietnam War. From the comedy of preparing for jungle warfare in snow-covered hills around Tekapo to the tension of being fired on at close range on the roads of Vietnam, Ron’s vivid recollections are captivating.
As 2019 transitions into 2020, it is time to reflect on the past year and look forward to what is planned for the future.
In the three years that this website has been in existence, 108 articles examining the history if New Zealand Ordnance Services from 184 to 1996 have been published, to date these have been viewed 17347 times by 9358 visitors.
The page continues to grow, and it is becoming the go-to place of any question on New Zealand Ordnance, with posts cited in several academic articles.
As a result of these posts, the New Zealand Ordnance community now have a better understanding of the history of the Corps, its predecessors and their role and contribution that they played from the 1840s up to start of the Second World War.
The role of New Zealand Ordnance in the First World War was often overlooked and forgotten, but now there is a better understanding of the NZ Ordnance organisation, its structure and most importantly the men who made it happen. From a list of Twenty One names, there is now a nominal roll listing the names of Fifty Six men who served in the NZEF NZAOC, in Egypt, Turkey, France, United Kingdom and Palestine from 1914 to 1921.
Also, many of the older pages from 2017 and 2018 have been refreshed and updated as new research and information come to hand such as the posts detailing;
As 2019 transitions into 2020 if we take the time to look back, we can find many essential linkages to the past;
One Hundred Years ago, although the guns had fallen silent in November 1918, the New Zealand Ordnance Staff in England were still hard at work demobilising the NZEF and would be some of the last me to return tom New Zealand.
Eighty years ago, Captain A.H Andrews a Warrant Officer Class One and three Other Ranks had departed New Zealand on the 22nd of December as part of the 2nd NZEF advance party and would spend January and February working from the British Ordnance Depot at Abbassia laying the foundation for New Zealand’s Ordnance contribution in the Middle East and Italy that would endure until 1946.
Seventy-Nine Years ago, a full year before the entry of Japan into the war 8(NZ)Brigade was getting established in Fiji in preparation the expected Japanese onslaught. Support the Brigade was an Ordnance Depot and Workshops that would grow into a robust organisation supporting the 3rd New Zealand Division until 1944.
Over the next year and beyond many of the planned posts will be on the NZ Ordnance contribution to the Second World War, covering the Middle East, Greece, Crete, England, North Africa, Italy, The Pacific, India, Australia and at Home. Some research has already been undertaken, and a nominal role containing 2137 names of New Zealand who Served in the Ordnance Corps has been created, so far 167 have been identified as serving in the Middle East with 50 identified as serving in the pacific where1400 Ordnance men are known to have served.
The Second World War will not be the sole focus, and posts on New Zealand Ordnance in the years before and after the Second World War will continue to be published, with the following topics under research underway;
The formation of the RNZAOOC School.
The evolution of the Auto Parts trade.
Burnham’s Ordnance Depot.
The Black Day of 1931 and the long-term contribution and reintegration into the military of the men who were forced to assume civilian roles in the Ordnance Corps.
The rise and decline of the Ordnance Directorate.
It is a privilege and pleasure to produce these posts, but if anyone wishes to contribute, please message me, as a few more contributors can only enhance the page.
The New Zealand Army evolved out of the British troops deployed during the 19th-century New Zealand Wars into a unique iwi known as Ngāti Tumatauenga – ‘Tribe of the God of War’. While Ngāti Tumatauenga has an extensive and well-known Whakapapa,[1] less well known is the whakapapa of the New Zealand Army’s supply and warehousing services.
Leading up to 1996, the Royal New Zealand Army Ordnance Corps (RNZAOC) was the New Zealand Army organisation with the responsibility in peace and war for the provision, storage and distribution of Arms, Ammunition, Rations and Military stores. As the army’s warehousing organisation, the RNZAOC adopted the Pātaka (The New Zealand Māori name for a storehouse) as an integral piece of its traditions and symbology. On 9 December 1996, the warehousing functions of the RNZAOC were assumed by the Royal New Zealand Army Logistic Regiment (RNZALR).
Unpacked on this page and on the attached Web Application “the Pātaka of Ngati Tumatauenga” the evolution of New Zealand’s Army’s Ordnance services is examined. From a single storekeeper in 1840, the organisation grew through the New Zealand Wars, the World Wars and the Cold War into an organisation with global reach providing support to New Zealand Forces in New Zealand and across the globe.
Scan the QR code to view the Web App:
Description of Ordnance Units
In general terms, Ordnance units can be described as:
Main/Base Depots– A battalion-sized group, commanded by a lieutenant colonel. Usually a significant stock holding unit, responsible for the distribution of stock to other ordnance installations.
Central Ordnance Depots/Supply Company– Company-sized units, commanded by a major. Depending on the role of the unit, the following subunits could be included in the organisation:
Provision, Control & Accounts
Stores sub-depot/platoon
Traffic Centre
Camp Equipment
Technical Stores
Expendables
Clothing
Returned Stores & Disposals
Textile Repair
Tailors
Boot Repair
Ammunition Sub-Depot/Platoon
Vehicles Sub-Depot/Platoon
Services Sub-Depot/Platoon
Bath and Shower
Laundry
Rations Sub-Depot/Platoon (after 1979)
Fresh Rations
Combat Rations
Butchers
Petroleum Platoon (after 1979)
Vehicle Depots –
Workshops Stores Sections – In 1962, RNZAOC Stores Sections carrying specialised spares, assemblies and workshops materials to suit the particular requirement of its parent RNZEME workshops were approved, and RNZEME Technical Stores personnel employed in these were transferred to the RNZAOC.[2][3]
Workshops. Before 1947, Equipment repair workshops were part of the Ordnance organisation. Types of Workshop included:
Main Workshop
Field/Mobile Workshop
Light Aid Detachments
Unit naming conventions
The naming of Ordnance units within New Zealand was generally based upon the unit locations or function or unit.
Supply Depots were initially named based on the district they belonged to:
Upper North Island – Northern District Ordnance Depot
Lower North Island – Central Districts Ordnance Depot
South Island – Southern Districts Ordnance Depot
In 1968, a regionally based numbering system was adopted
1 for Ngaruawahia
2 for Linton
3 for Burnham
4 for Waiouru
Some exceptions were:
1 Base Depot and 1st Base Supply Battalion, a single battalion-sized unit, the name was based on role, not location.
1 Composite Ordnance Company, a unique company-sized group, the name was based on function, not location
When the Royal New Zealand Army Service Corps (RNZASC) became the Royal New Zealand Corps of Transport (RNZCT) in 1979, the supply functions were transferred to the RNZAOC, with the 1st number signifying the location, with the 2nd number being 4 for all Supply Platoons:
14 Supply Platoon, Papakura
24 Supply Platoon, Linton
34 Supply Platoon, Burnham
44 Supply Platoon, Waiouru
54 Supply Platoon, Trentham
Not that command of these units was transferred to the RNZAOC on 16 October 1978, with the personnel transferred in 1979.
Exceptions were:
21 Supply Company – Retained its name as a historical link to the unit’s long history in the RNZASC.
47 Petroleum Platoon, originally 7 Petroleum Platoon RNZASC, when transferred to the RNZAOC, as it was based in Waiouru, it added the Waiouru unit designation ‘4’ and became 47 Petroleum Platoon RNZAOC
Unit locations New Zealand, 1907–1996
Alexandra
9 Magazines operated from 1943 to 1962.
Ardmore
20 Magazines operational from 1943
Auckland
There has been an Ordnance presence in Auckland since the 1840s, with the Colonial Storekeeper and Imperial forces. The Northern Districts Ordnance Depot was situated in Mount Eden in the early 1900s. In the 1940s, the centre for Ordnance Support for the Northern Districts moved to Ngaruawahia, with a Sub depot remaining at Narrow Neck to provide immediate support.
RNZAOC units that have been accommodated at Auckland have been:
Stores Depot
Defence Stores Department, District Stores – Albert Barracks 1961-1883
Defence Stores Department, District Stores – O’Rourke Street, 1883-1903
Defence Stores Department, District Stores – Goal Reserve, Mount Eden 1903 -1917
Northern District Ordnance Depot – Goal Reserve, Mount Eden 1917 -1929.[4]
Northern District Ordnance Depot, Narrow Neck, 1929 to? [5]
1 Supply Company, from 1989, Papakura
12 Supply Company
12 Field Supply Company
15 Combat Supplies Platoon, 1 Logistic Regiment
52 Supply Platoon, 5 Force Support Company
Vehicle Depot
Northern Districts Vehicle Depot, Sylvia Park, 1948-1961
Northern Districts Ordnance Depot, Vehicle Sub Depot, Sylvia Park, 1961 – 1968
1 Central Ordnance Depot (1 COD), Vehicle Sub Depot, Sylvia Park, 1968 to 1979
1 Supply Company, Vehicle Sub Depot, Sylvia Park, 1979 to 1989
1 Transport Company Workshop, Stores Section, Fort Cautley
Belmont
Operational from 1943
MOD Trentham, Ammunition Group, Ammunition Section
Burnham
Stores Depot
In 1921, a single Command Ordnance Depot was established to service all military units in the newly organised Southern Military Command. Before this, Ordnance stores had operated from Christchurch and Dunedin. The new Depot (later renamed the Third Central Ordnance Depot) was established in the buildings of the former Industrial School at Burnham. Re-structuring in 1979 brought a change of name to 3 Supply Company.[6][7][8]
Stores Depot titles 1921–1996
Area Ordnance Department Burnham, 1920 to 1939,
Southern Districts Ordnance Depot, 1939 to 1942,
No 3 Sub Depot, 1942 to 1948,
Southern Districts Ordnance Depot, 1948 to 1968,
3 Central Ordnance Depot (3 COD), 1968 to 1979, [9]
3 Supply Company, 1979 to 1993,
Burnham Supply Center,1993 to 1994,
3 Field Supply Company, 1994 to 1996.
Vehicle Depot
Southern Districts Vehicle Depot, 1948-1961.
Ammunition Depot
Southern Districts Vehicle Ammunition 1954-1961.
Other Ordnance Units
Combat Supplies Platoon. 1979 to 19??,
Ready Reaction Force Ordnance Support Group (RRF OSG), 19?? To 1992, moved to Linton,
32 Field Supply Company (Territorial Force Unit).
Ordnance Field Parks
3 Infantry Brigade Group OFP Platoon, 21 October 1948 – 28 June 1955.
3 Transport Company Workshop, Stores Section, Addington.
Devonport
Ordnance Workshop – Located at the Torpedo Yard, North Head
Ordnance Workshop Devonport, 1925-1941
No 12 Ordnance Workshop, Devonport, 1941–1946
Dunedin
Stores Depot
Otago and Southland Military Districts Stores Depot, 1907 to 1921
Fairlie
Nine magazines Operational 1943.
Featherston
Featherston Camp was New Zealand’s largest training camp during the First World War, where around 60,000 young men trained for overseas service between 1916 – 1918. An Ordnance Detachment was maintained in Featherston until 1927 when it functions were transferred to Northern Districts Ordnance Depot, Ngaruawahia.[10]
Glen Tunnel
16 magazines Operational from 1943
Hamilton
Proof Office, Small Arms Ammunition Factory, 1943-1946
Kelms Road
55 Magazines Operational from 1943 to 1976
Linton Camp
RNZAOC units that have been accommodated at Linton have been;
Stores Depot
No 2 Ordnance Depot, 1 October 1946 to 1948,
Central Districts Ordnance Depot, 1948 to 1968,
2 Central Ordnance Depot (2 COD), 1968 to 16 Oct 1978,[11]
2 Supply Company, 16 October 1978 to 1985,
Static Depot
Tech Stores Section
Field Force
22 Ordnance Field Park
General Stores
Bath Section
5 Composite Supply Company, 1985 to 1990.
21 Field Supply Company 1990 to 1996
Vehicle Depot
Central Districts Vehicle Depot, 1957-1961
Ammunition Depot
Ordnance Field Parks
2nd Infantry Brigade Ordnance Field Park Platoon 1948-48
22 Ordnance Field Park
Workshop Stores Section
1 General Troops Workshop, Stores Section
Linton Area Workshop, Stores Section
5 Engineer Workshop, Store Section
Other Ordnance Units
24 Supply Platoon
23 Combat Supplies Platoon
47 Petroleum Platoon 1984 to 1996
Ready Reaction Force Ordnance Support Group (RRF OSG), from Burnham in 1992 absorbed into 21 Field Supply Company. [12]
First used as a tented camp during the First World War and in the Second World War Mangaroa was the site of an RNZAF Stores Depot from 1943. The depot with a storage capacity of 25,000 sq ft in 8 ‘Adams-type Buildings was handed over to the NZ Army by 1949.[13] The units that have been accommodated at Mangaroa have been:
Supply Depot
Main Ordnance Depot,1949–1968,
1 Base Ordnance Depot, 1968–1979,
1st Base Supply Battalion,
ACE(Artillery and Camp Equipment) Group
5 Composite Supply Company, 1978 – Dec 1979
Ordnance Field Parks
2nd Infantry Brigade Ordnance Field Park Platoon, 1950–1963,
1 Infantry Brigade Group, OFP, 1963–1968,
1st Composite Ordnance Company (1 Comp Ord Coy), 1964–1977,
1 Comp Ord Coy was the Ordnance Bulk Holding unit for the field force units supporting the Combat Brigade Group and the Logistic Support Group, and held 60–90 days’ war reserve stock. 1 Comp Ord Coy was made up of the following subunits: [14]
Coy HQ
1 Platoon, General Stores
2 Platoon, Technical Stores
3 Platoon, Vehicles
4 Platoon, Ammo (located at Makomako)
5 Platoon, Laundry
6 Platoon, Bath
Mako Mako
39 magazines operational from 1943
MOD Trentham, Ammunition Group, Ammunition Section
2 COD Ammunition Section
Mount Eden
Defence Stores/Ordnance Depot, 1871-1927
Defence Stores Department Powder Magazines 1871
Defence Stores Department, District Stores – Goal Reserve, Mount Eden 1903 -1917
Northern District Ordnance Depot – Goal Reserve, Mount Eden 1917 -1929.[4]
Proof Office, Small Arms Ammunition Factory, 1898-1967
Mount Somers
10 Magazines operational from 1943, closed 1969
Ngaruawahia
Ngaruawahia also was known as Hopu Hopu was established in 1927, [15] and allowed the closure of Featherston Ordnance Depot and the Auckland Ordnance Depot and was intended to service the northern regions. During construction, Ngaruawahia was described by the Auckland Star as “Probably the greatest Ordnance Depot”[16] Ngaruawahia closed down in 1989, and its Ordnance functions moved to Papakura and Mount Wellington.
RNZAOC units that have been accommodated at Ngaruawahia have been:
Stores Depot
Area Ngaruawahia Ordnance Department 1927 to 1940,
Northern District Ordnance Depot, 1940 to 1942,
No 1 Ordnance Sub Depot, 1942 to 1948, In addition to the main stores at Ngaruawahia Camp, No 1 Ordnance Sub Depot also maintained Sub-Depots at the following locations:
Bulk Store at Federal Street, Auckland
Clothing and Boot Store at Mills Lane, Auckland
Clothing Store at Glyde Rink, Kyber Pass/Park Rd, Auckland
The Ray Boot Store, Frankton
Area 4 Ordnance store, Hamilton.
Pukekohe Show Grounds Buildings
Northern District Ordnance Depot, 1948 to 1968,
1 Central Ordnance Depot (1 COD), 1968 to 1979,
1 Supply Company, 1979 to 1989,
1 Field Supply Company, 1984, from 1989, Papakura. [17]
Ammunition Depot
25 Storehouses
Thirteen Constructed 1927-29
Twelve Constructed 1942-45
Ordnance Field Parks
1st Infantry Brigade Ordnance Field Park Platoon, 1948 to 1955
1 Infantry Brigade Group, Ordnance Field Park(OFP), 1968 to 1979, support to Combat Brigade Group
Workshop Stores Section
1 Infantry Brigade Group LAD, Stores Section
Other Ordnance Units
Northern Districts Ammunition Depot, Kelms Road
Palmerston North
Palmerston North Detachment, NZAOC, 1914 to 1921.[18][19][20]
Depot Closed and stocks moved to Trentham.
Ordnance Store, 327 Main Street Circa 1917-1921.[21]
No 2 Ordnance Sub Depot, Palmerston North showgrounds, 1942 to 1946 when depot moved to Linton.
Trentham
Stores Depot
Main Ordnance Depot (MOD), 1920 to 1968
Base Ordnance Depot (BOD), 1968 to 1979
1st Base Supply Battalion (1BSB), 1979 to 1993
5 Logistic Regiment (5LR), 1993 to 8 December 1996 when Transferred to the RNZALR.
Ordnance School
RNZAOC School, 1958 to 1994
Supply/Quartermaster Wing and Ammunition Wing, Trade Training School 1994 to 1996. [21]
4(NZ) Division Ordnance Field Park(OFP), 1950–1963
Vehicle Depot
Central Districts Vehicle Depot, 1948 – 1957
Ammunition Units
HQ Ammunition Group, sections at Belmont, Makomako, Kuku Valley, Waiouru
Ammunition Proof and Experimental Centre, Kuku Valley
Central Military District Ammunition Repair Depot, Kuku Valley
Waiouru
Ordnance Sub Depots were established at Waiouru in 1940, which eventually grew into a stand-alone Supply Company.[23]
RNZAOC units that have supported Waiouru have been;
Stores Depot
Main Ordnance Depot, Waiouru Sub-Depot, 1940–1946, Initially managed as a Sub-Depot of the Main Ordnance Depot in Trentham, Ordnance units in Waiouru consisted of:
Artillery Sub Depot
Bulk Stores Depot
Ammunition Section
Central Districts Ordnance Depot, Waiouru Sub Depot (1946–1976).[24] In 1946 Waiouru became a Sub-Depot of the Central Districts Ordnance Depot in Linton, consisting of:
Ammo Group
Vehicle Group
Camp Equipment Group.
4 Central Ordnance Deport, (1976–1979) On 1 April 1976 became a stand-alone Depot in its own right. [25]
4 Supply Company, (1979–1989)
when the RNZASC was disbanded in 1979 and its supply functions transferred to the RNZAOC, 4 Supply gained the following RNZASC units:[26]
HQ 21 Supply Company,(TF element)(1979–1984)
21 Supply Company was retained as a Territorial unit for training and exercise purposes and was capable of providing a Supply Company Headquarter capable of commanding up to five subunits.
47 Petroleum Platoon (1979–1984)
44 Supply Platoon
Central Q, (1989–1993)
4 Field Supply Company, (1993–1994)
Distribution Company, 4 Logistic Regiment, (1994–1996)
Workshop Stores Section
Waiouru Workshop, Stores Section
4 ATG Workshop, Stores Section
1 Armoured Workshop, Store Section
QAMR Workshop, Store Section
Wellington
The Board of Ordnance originally had a warehouse in Manners Street, but after the 1850 earthquake severely damaged this building, 13 acres of Mount Cook was granted to the Board of Ordnance, starting a long Ordnance association with the Wellington area.
Stores Depot
Defence Stores Department, Lower Mount Cook Barracks, 1869 – 1917
Central Districts Ordnance Depot, Mount Cook, 1917 to 1920.[27]
NZAOC Ammunition Section, Fort Ballance Magazine Area, 1920 -1943
Ammunition Inspection and Repair
New Zealand Ordnance Corps Section, RNZA, Fort Ballance, Wellington, 1915 to 1917.[28]
Unit locations overseas, 1914–1920
Few records trace with any accuracy New Zealand Ordnance units that served overseas in the First World War. Although the NZAOC was not officially created until 1917.[30] The New Zealand Army Ordnance Corps was constituted as part of the New Zealand Expeditionary Force (NZEF) in 1914 for overseas service only and in 1919 its members demobilised, returned to their parent units or mustered into the New Zealand Army Ordnance Department (Officers) or New Zealand Army Ordnance Corps (other Ranks) on their return to New Zealand.
Base Ordnance Depot, Kure (RAOC unit, NZAOC personnel attached)
4 New Zealand Base Ordnance Depot, November 1945.
4 New Zealand Advanced Ordnance Depot, November 1946.
4 New Zealand Ordnance Field Park – August 1947 to July 1948 when closed.
Korea
No Standalone units but individual RNZAOC personnel served in 4 Ordnance Composite Depot (4 OCD) RAOC.
Malaya
No standalone RNZAOC units, but individual RNZAOC personnel may have served in the following British and Commonwealth Ordnance units:
3 Base Ordnance Depot, RAOC, Singapore
28 Commonwealth Brigade Ordnance Field Park, Terendak, Malaysia.
Singapore
Stores Depot
5 Advanced Ordnance Depot, 1970–1971
5 Advanced Ordnance Depot (5 AOD) was a short-lived Bi-National Ordnance Depot operated by the RAAOC and RNZAOC in Singapore, 1970 to 1971.
ANZUK Ordnance Depot, 1971–1974
ANZUK Ordnance Depot was the Tri-National Ordnance Depot supporting the short-lived ANZUK Force. Staffed by service personnel from the RAOC, RAAOC and RNZAOC with locally Employed Civilians (LEC) performing the basic clerical, warehousing and driving tasks. It was part of the ANZUK Support Group supporting ANZUK Force in Singapore between 1971 to 1974. ANZUK Ordnance Depot was formed from the Australian/NZ 5 AOD and UK 3BOD and consisted of:
Stores Sub Depot
Vehicle Sub Depot
Ammunition Sub Depot
Barrack Services Unit
Forward Ordnance Depot(FOD)
New Zealand Advanced Ordnance Depot, 1974–1989
From 1974 to 1989 the RNZAOC maintained the New Zealand Advanced Ordnance Depot(NZAOD) in Singapore as part of New Zealand Force South East Asia (NZFORSEA).
Workshops Stores Section
New Zealand Workshops, RNZAOC Stores Section
1RNZIR, Light Aid Detachment Stores Section
Somalia
The RNZAOC (with RNZCT, RNZEME, RNZSig, RNZMC specialist attachments) contributed to the New Zealand Governments commitment to the International and United Nations Operation in Somalia(UNOSOM) efforts in Somalia with:
Supply Detachment, Dec 1992 to June 1993
Supply Platoon x 2 rotations, July 1993 to July 1994 (reinforced with RNZIR Infantry Section)
RNZAOC officers to UNOSOM headquarters, 1992 to 1995.[40]
South Vietnam
During New Zealand’s commitment to the war in South Vietnam (29 June 1964 – 21 December 1972). The Royal New Zealand Army Ordnance Corps did not contribute a standalone unit but provided individuals to serve in New Zealand Headquarters units, Composite Logistic units or as part of Australian Ordnance Units including:
[1] Whakapapa is a taxonomic framework that links all animate and inanimate, known and unknown phenomena in the terrestrial and spiritual worlds. Whakapapa, therefore, binds all things. It maps relationships so that mythology, legend, history, knowledge, Tikanga (custom), philosophies and spiritualities are organised, preserved and transmitted from one generation to the next. “Rāwiri Taonui, ‘Whakapapa – Genealogy – What Is Whakapapa?’, Te Ara – the Encyclopedia of New Zealand, Http://Www.Teara.Govt.Nz/En/Whakapapa-Genealogy/Page-1 (Accessed 3 June 2019).”
[2] Major J.S Bolton, A History of the Royal New Zealand Army Ordnance Corps (Trentham: RNZAOC, 1992).
[3] A.J. Polaschek and Medals Research Christchurch, The Complete New Zealand Distinguished Conduct Medal: Being an Account of the New Zealand Recipients of the Distinguished Conduct Medal from the Earliest Times of the South African War to the Present Time, Together with Brief Biographical Notes and Details of Their Entitlement to Other Medals, Orders and Decorations (Medals Research Christchurch, 1983).
[4] “Dismantling of Buildings at Mt Eden and Reassembling at Narrow Neck,” New Zealand Herald, vol. LXVI, p. 5, 2 February 1929.
[5] “The Narrow Neck Camp,” New Zealand Herald, vol. LVIII, no. 17815, p. 6, 23 June 1921.
[6] John J. Storey and J. Halket Millar, March Past: A Review of the First Fifty Years of Burnham Camp (Christchurch, N.Z.: Pegasus Press, 1973, 1974 printing, 1973), Non-fiction.
[7] “Camp at Burnham,” Star, no. 16298, p. 8, 13 December 1920.
[11] “NZ P106 Dos Procedure Instructions, Part 1 Static Support Force. Annex F to Chapter 1, Rnzaoc Director of Ordnance Services.”
[12] “Stockholding for Operationally Deployable Stockholding Units,” NZ Army General Staff, Wellington (1993.).
[13] L Clifton, Aerodrome Services, ed. Aerodrome Services Branch of the Public Works Department War History (Wellington1947).
[14] “1 Comp Ord Coy,” Pataka Magazine, February 1979.
[15] “D-01 Public Works Statement by the Hon. J. G. Coates, Minister of Public Works,” Appendix to the Journals of the House of Representatives, 1 January,” (1925).
[16] “Great Military Camp,” The Auckland Star, vol. LVI, no. 83, p. 5, 8 April 1925.
[17] “1st Field Supply Company Standing Operating Procedures, 1st Supply Company Training Wing, Dec “, (1984).
[18] W.H. Cunningham and C.A.L. Treadwell, Wellington Regiment: N. Z. E. F 1914-1918 (Naval & Military Press, 2003).
[19] “Defence Re-Organisation,” Manawatu Times, vol. XLII, no. 1808, p. 5, 5 May 1921.
[20] “H-19 Defence Forces of New Zealand, Report of the General Officer Commanding the Forces from 25th June 1914 to 26th June, 1915.,” “, Appendix to the Journals of the House of Representatives (1915).
[27] “Ordnance Stores,” Evening Post, vol. c, no. 95, p. 8, 19 October 1920.
[28] “H-19 Defence Forces of New Zealand, Report of the General Officer Commanding the Forces from 25th June 1914 to 26th June 1915.”
“, Appendix to the Journals of the House of Representatives (1915).
[29] “H-19 Defence Forces of New Zealand, Report of the General Officer Commanding the Forces, from 1st June 1916 to 31st May 1917,” Appendix to the Journals of the House of Representatives (1917).
[30] “Colonel Rhodes,” Dominion, vol. 9, no. 2718, p. 9, 13 March 1916. .
[33] Glyn Harper, Johnny Enzed: The New Zealand Soldier in the First World War 1914-1918, First World War Centenary History (Titirangi, Auckland, New Zealand: Exisle Publishing, 2015
Private Roderick Mcleod Matheson, NZOC, 2 June 1941, Cairo War Memorial Cemetery, Egypt
Sergeant Hubert Joseph Edward Avery, NZOC, Attached 18 Infantry Battalion 12 June 1941, Cairo War Memorial Cemetery, Egypt
Lieutenant Mervyn Vance Wilson, NZOC, 12 September 1941, Maunu Public Cemetery, Whangarei, New Zealand
Staff Sergeant Walter Jack Perry, NZOC, Attached to 25 Battalion 9 October 1941, Alamein Memorial, Egypt
Captain Frank Daniel Barry MC, 15 LAD, NZOC, 20 October 1941, Alamein Memorial, Egypt
Private Samuel Victor Viall, 19 LAD, NZOC, 23 November 1941, Alamein Memorial, Egypt
Private Maurice Thompson, 16 LAD, NZOC, 28 November 1941, Alamein Memorial, Egypt
Temporary Major William Andrew Knox, Officer Commanding, Divisional Ordnance Field Park, NZOC, 5 December 1941, Alamein Memorial, Egypt
Private Leo Gregory Narbey, Divisional Salvage Unit, NZOC, 23 December 1941, Alamein Memorial, Egypt
1942
Private David Porter, Base Ordnance Depot, NZOC, 15 May 1942, Heliopolis War Cemetery, Egypt
Captain Robert George Brasell, 16 LAD, NZOC, 27 June 1942, Alamein Memorial, Egypt
Private Fredrick Albert Single, NZOC, 16 July 1942, Alamein Memorial, Egypt
1943
Sergeant Ronald Roy Moore, NZ Divisional Ordnance Field Park, NZOC, 13 February 1943, Fayid War Cemetery, Egypt
Private Alan Norman Head, 9 LAD, NZOC, 6 March 1943, Sfax War Cemetery, Tunisia
Corporal Alexander McCorkindale, Workshop Sec, NZOC, 29 March 1943, Sfax War Cemetery, Tunisia
Lieutenant John Omri Beaver, 1 May 1943, Waikumete Crematorium, Auckland, New Zealand
Lance Corporal Donald James McInnes MID, NZOC, 2 July 1943, Perth War Cemetery and Annex, Australia
Sergeant Allan John Jamieson, 2 Divisional Workshops, NZOC, 2 August 1943, Heliopolis War Cemetery, Egypt
Private Alan James Robinson, Base Ordnance Depot, NZOC, 28 August 1943, Heliopolis War Cemetery, Egypt
Corporal James Oscar Hedlund, 10 September 1943, Waikaraka Park Cemetery, New Zealand
Sergeant William James Pearson MID, NZOC, 27 October 1943, Bourail New Zealand War Cemetery New Caledonia
Sergeant Richard John Keebel, NZOC, 8 November 1943, Bourail New Zealand War Cemetery New Caledonia
Private Trevor James Cunningham, 16 LAD, NZOC, 12 November 1943, Sangro War Cemetery Italy
1944
Second Lieutenant Augustus Henrickson Brown, NZOC, 4 January 1944, Suva Military Cemetery Fiji
Lance Corporal Owen Earle Penny, NZOC, 28 June 1944, Rome War Cemetery Italy
Private Oscar Harold Maxted, Advanced Base Workshops, NZOC, 5 July 1944, Caserta War Cemetery Italy
Staff Sergeant Huia Cecil Helean, 9 July 1944, Anderson’s Bay Cemetery, Dunedin New Zealand
Captain Robert John Gamble, 6 September 1944, St Johns Anglican Cemetery, Trentham New Zealand
Corporal Ivan Lawrence Fairbrother, 16 LAD, NZOC, 29 October 1944, Ancona War Cemetery Italy
1945
Private Ivan James Curin, Divisional Ordnance Field Park, NZOC, 24 March 1945, Ravenna War Cemetery Italy
Corporal Albert Walter Findlater, 2 Divisional Workshop, NZOC, 1 May 1945, Padua War Cemetery Italy
Lance Corporal John William Merson, 10 LAD, NZOC, 1 May 1945, Padua War Cemetery Italy
Private Trevor Ronald Beach, 5 October 1945, Richmond Cemetery, New Zealand
Private Sedrick Montague Cameron, 5 October 1945, Karori Cemetery, Wellington, New Zealand
Private Alister Alexander Phillips, 38 LAD, NZOC, 18 October 1945, Florence War Cemetery Italy
Sergeant Allan Edward Agnew, Divisional Ordnance Workshops, NZOC, 2 February 1945, Alamein Memorial Egypt
1946
Private Walter Thomas Hoare, 21 April 1946, Taita Cemetery, Lower Hutt, New Zealand
Private Donald Ewart Chapple, 27 June 1946, Kawakawa Cemetery, New Zealand
Private Joseph Irwin, 28 August 1946, Koputama Cemetery, Stratford, New Zealand
Lieutenant Colonel Ivan Roberts Withell, RNZA, Chief Inspecting Ordnance Officer, 31 August 1946, Wallaceville Presbyterian Church Cemetery, New Zealand
Gunner Jack Beattie, 16 December 1946, Te Awamutu Public Cemetery, New Zealand
1947
Sergeant Matthew James Gaffney, 9 February 1947, Bromley Cemetery, Christchurch, New Zealand
Staff Sergeant Thomas John Aloysius Rooney, 5 April 1947, Timaru Cemetery, New Zealand
Staff Sergeant John Murdo Graham, 16 May 1947, Ngaruawahia Public Cemetery, New Zealand
1948
Corporal John Aitken Fairley, No.1 Ordnance Depot, RNZAOC, 9 August 1948, Waikumete Cemetery, Auckland, New Zealand
1953
Captain John Francis Finn, MT & Ammunition Q Branch Army HQ, RNZAOC, 25 February 1953, Taitā Lawn Cemetery. Naenae, Lower Hutt City, New Zealand
1955
Private Donald George Dixon, 10 March 1955, Port Chalmers (New) Cemetery, New Zealand
Staff Sergeant Frederick Hastings Kirk, 10 March 1955, Linwood Crematorium Chapel, Christchurch, New Zealand
Warrant Officer Class 2 Colin John Patterson, RNZAOC, 12 November 1955, Waikumete Cemetery, Auckland
1960
Lance Corporal Horace Claude Clark, Northern District Vehicle Depot, RNZAOC 25 May 1960, Waikumete Cemetery, Auckland, New Zealand.
1962
Sergeant David Neil Stewart, SAA Production Proof Office, 24 September 1962, Purewa Cemetery, Auckland, New Zealand
1966
Major Andrew Bernard West, ADOS, SMD, 23 January 1966, Ruru Lawn Cemetery, Bromley, Christchurch, New Zealand
1971
Warrant Officer Class 1 Charles Neil Maxwell, 1 Base Ordnance Depot, RNZAOC, 24 September 1971, Maunu Cemetery, Whangārei, New Zealand
1973
Staff Sergeant Jack Harley, 3 Composite Ordnance Depot, RNZAOC, 18 February 1973, Taihape Cemetery, New Zealand
1977
Lance Corporal Michael Douglas Armstrong, Ordnance School, RNZAOC, 26 January 1977, Maunu Cemetery, Whangārei, New Zealand
Staff Sergeant Brian Edward Arnold Burgess, 3 Composite Ordnance Depot, RNZAOC 5 March 1977, Ruru Lawn Cemetery, Bromley, Christchurch, New Zealand
1979
Corporal Leonard James Charman, 3 Supply Company, RNZAOC, 3 January 1979, Waimairi Cemetery, Christchurch, New Zealand
1985
Lance Corporal Nigel Richard MacDonald, 1 Supply Company, RNZAOC, 22 January 1985, All Saints Anglican Church Graveyard, Burwood, New Zealand
1986
Warrant Officer Class 2 Whakaaro Rangi (Joe) Mato, HQ Army Training Group (Finance), RNZAOC, 10 August 1986, Waikumete Cemetery, Auckland, New Zealand
1987
Lieutenant Paul Grenville Benstead, 1 Supply Company RNZAOC, 1 February 1987, Ngaruawahia Cemetery, New Zealand
Lance Corporal Scott William Moses, 1 Supply Company, RNZAOC, 24 February 1987, Archer Street Cemetery, Masterton, New Zealand
1993
Warrant Officer Class 2 Kevin Douglas Cryer, 1 Logistic Regt RNZAOC, 21 October 1993, Jackson Street Cemetery, Ngaruawahia, New Zealand
1994
Private Russell John Casey, 1 Logistic Regt RNZAOC, 16 January 1994, North Shore Memorial Park. Auckland New Zealand
