By the late 1940s all New Zealand children had a medical examination on entering school, and were seen by a nurse at standards two and six. These examinations helped identify those who were not 'thriving' in their home environment. Malnourished children were sent to state-supported children's health camps, where they received health care and education. While these camps had been in existence since the early twentieth century, they were mainly temporary and did not come under state control until 1938.
Permanent health camps were then set up in the 1940s and 1950s, most notably in Otaki, Pakuranga, Glenelg and Roxburgh. A key figure in their development was the Director of School Hygiene and later Deputy Director General of Health, Dr H.B. Turbott.
By 1940 childhood was internationally recognised as a distinct stage in human development. A child's value to the family was no longer seen as primarily economic. Instead, children were viewed in terms of 'emotional capital' as socially priceless. New Zealand followed overseas trends and introduced children's education initiatives in the late 1930s and early 1940s.
The kindergarten movement, still outside the state system in the war period, benefited from these changes. Funded by voluntary contributions and limited government grants, by 1940 the movement needed more money to ensure a sufficient supply of teachers. In 1942 the government provided bursaries for trainees, and student numbers increased from 31 in 1941 to 72 in 1944. In the same period the number of kindergartens increased from 39 to 52.
As a consequence of the post-war economic boom there was increasing demand for consumer goods. The 1956 census revealed that more than half of New Zealand homes possessed washing machines, refrigerators and electric ovens. For those families who could afford these time- and labour-saving luxuries, so-called 'women's work' became easier. In addition, women who had been mobilised during the war had a taste of life outside the home.
Although many relinquished their jobs at the end of the war in favour of returning soldiers, some chose to remain, if only part-time, in the paid workforce.
Whether they were New Zealanders in Cairo or Americans in Wellington, soldiers of all nations had one thing in common. Having worked hard in camp or at the front, they wanted to play hard. Young, healthy, and unrestrained by the precepts of family and community, wondering if the next month might bring death, the soldier abroad turned instinctively to pleasures of the flesh.
There was a darker side to station life. Like other public facilities, railway stations often attracted loafers and drunks, bored teenagers or lonely souls seeking human contact. Some of these people became local identities, such as the enigmatic Catherine Hill who frequented Frankton station for decades from the Second World War. Locals dubbed her ‘Coffee and Bun’ after her usual purchases from the station refreshment room, and they speculated that she was waiting for a fiancé who had never returned from the war.