Steve Weir: New Zealand's Master Gunner

Steve Weir was identified as a natural leader very early in his Army career and he was one of three New Zealand officer cadets selected to train at British Royal Military Academies, (two attended Sandhurst and one Woolwich). Weir's age of 21 technically made him too old, but his potential was such that this was ignored and he attended Woolwich from December 1925 to September 1927. Back in New Zealand, after various army appointments in the 1930s, Weir was accepted for entry at the British Army's staff college at Camberly and seemed destined for a senior command role. The outbreak of war, however, prevented Weir from attending and like thousands of others, he was rapidly promoted and forced instead to quickly acquire the fundamentals of command from personal experience on the field of battle.

Weir took pride in being an artillery officer and his appearance and bearing were typical of a Woolwich graduate. He stood nearly six feet tall and was 'solidly built, bull necked and hawk-nosed, with a remarkably deep booming voice'. Cedric Mentiplay described him as 'the most military figure of them all, with his erect carriage, positive movements, direct gaze and immaculate moustache'. Not one to suffer fools, Weir could also be abrupt and fierce in temperament, which was a fearful prospect for those who had incurred his wrath. His former GIO, Captain Murray Sidey, recalled in 1942�'I received the most awful blister from the CRA for nearly losing my pistol - I have never received such a tick off - He is renowned (as an expert in the art of administering a blast) throughout the whole Div. So it was an experience worth having'. Weir could be formidable, but he was also popular and well respected by his gunners, both as a CO and CRA.

Despite his stern professional exterior, Weir's sense of humour was one of his trademark characteristics. A story known to many gunners concerned Weir before the war as a young officer in Christchurch. Upon arriving back at his lodgings, his landlady refused him dinner because he was a few minutes late. Weir's response was to eat his landlady's goldfish. On another occasion in 1939, he walked along a line of bowler hats in the Auckland Wellesley Club's cloakroom and punctured each one on its peg, just for a joke. He was allegedly facing disciplinary action for this when the war broke out and it was soon conveniently forgotten. During the war, his sense of humour manifested itself at Christmas 1943 in Italy, when he got his gunners to fire a special barrage on to a hill in the German lines. When viewed from a distance it read 'A Merry Xmas Fritz' in the snow.

Weir was also well known for his sometimes boisterous socialising and the CRA's exploits became something of a legend among the gunners of the New Zealand Division. It is difficult to separate the myth from actual events, but Weir was certainly no stranger to altercations in some of Cairo's best hotels. On one occasion he threw two British Army majors off the steps at Shepherds Hotel. He had also done a similar thing prior to the war at the Wellesley Club, when he threw a fellow officer off a first-floor balcony after a good-natured but public tussle. Weir was allegedly banned from Shepherds several times, along with the Continental and the Metro (the other premier officer hotels in Cairo). Weir's reputation in this area didn't seem to concern him though and he personally did little to dispel the myths that were built around him.

As the CRA, he hosted functions for his officers and his antics occasionally shocked those who were present. Weir on one occasion took a group of his majors to dinner in a quality Cairo restaurant. As soon as everyone had finished eating, Weir called for the cheque and signed the chit. 'We were quietly sipping our coffee and brandy when the CRA stood up and said �let's wreck the joint�. Whereupon he [stood] up with a chair and threw it over the balustrade to the area below'. This was the signal for everyone to start throwing chairs and more flew out, followed by a table. Military Police whistles were soon blowing outside and the CRA called for everyone to follow him to the door. Upon meeting the Military Police, Weir announced 'I am Brigadier Weir and these are my officers. Make way'. The Redcaps quickly stepped back and everyone departed.

Weir was highly capable as an artillery officer although he was generally regarded as a better field commander than a staff officer. Opinion on his technical abilities is mixed, but Weir was a definitely a leader who concerned himself with details. He was always personally involved in the preparation of fire plans, which became increasingly complicated as the North African campaign progressed. Weir's primary focus was always his field regiments and how he could improve their accuracy, efficiency and performance. He regularly visited his field regiments as the CRA but generally showed less interest in the anti-tank and anti-aircraft regiments. These, however, were always more dispersed and Weir's experience mostly lay in field artillery.

Weir thrived in action and frequently went forward to personally reconnoitre for himself, sometimes exposing himself to personal danger and having several narrow escapes. In several actions he strode into the thick of combat and inspired those around him with his calmness under fire and determination to fight to the bitter end. This is perhaps best exemplified by Weir's conduct near Sidi Resegh on 1 December 1941. As he neared 30 Battery, in the process of being over-run, Weir allegedly roared at some retreating gunners 'Carry on! This position will be held until it's untenable', to which one of them answered 'Hells flames, they're only 150 yards away - when will it become untenable?' This was typical of Weir throughout all the actions in North Africa - focused entirely on winning the battle and largely unfazed by enemy fire.

Lieutenant General Sir Leonard Thornton, a distinguished military leader himself, described Weir as 'probably the most effective leader produced by New Zealand during that war, known and admired by every man under his command. He was incapable of histrionics, but had the capacity to inspire and encourage those around him in the most unpromising circumstances'. Although his name has never achieved the same familiarity as Freyberg and Kippenberger, Weir was undoubtedly one of the best professional soldiers produced by New Zealand in the Second World War.