Willie Apiata VC: The Reluctant Hero

Willie Apiata's story, from his childhood to the events in Afghanistan which led to him being the first (and only so far) recipient of the Victoria Cross for New Zealand. To explain - since 1999, New Zealand, as with most Commonwealth countries has had it's own honours system, separated from Britain. The award however, still retains its place as the highest honour bestowed on a member of the military for valour. Britain has awarded only 15 VCs since the end of World War II.

When Apiata was named as recipient, it really changed the playing field in New Zealand. Until recently the NZSAS were a shadowy group, who were anonymous, and whose operations were classified and recovered no media coverage. Apiata become public property.

For a man as modest and private as Apiata, this was the most uncomfortable situation he had ever been put in. Not that he had a choice, but he was told that the publicity was good for the SAS, and was good for New Zealand. Almost a public relations exercise, but one that many people can feel good about.

The book covers a lot of the story, mostly written by Paul Little, but there are frequent paragraphs by Apiata himself, which mixes it up a bit, making it more readable. Little seems in awe of Apiata, and for a man who so obviously does not need it, gushes a bit much.

His citation reads, in part “In total disregard of his own safety, Lance Corporal Apiata stood up and lifted his comrade bodily. He then carried him across the seventy metres of broken, rocky and fire swept ground, fully exposed in the glare of battle to heavy enemy fire and into the face of returning fire from the main Troop position. That neither he nor his colleague were hit is scarcely possible. Having delivered his wounded companion to relative shelter with the remainder of the patrol, Lance Corporal Apiata re-armed himself and rejoined the fight in counter-attack.”

It is a particular type of person to be considered a hero in New Zealand. There are not many who make the grade - any sense of self importance, or an inflated opinion of oneself, and you have no chance. Apiata fits the bill well. He had no expectation, and his immediate response was that he didn't deserve a medal, and he was just doing his job. He is a humble and polite role model, and doesn't enjoy the limelight his is constantly in. He stands, with Sir Ed Hillary on a pretty uncrowded sort of podium.