ANZAC DAY, 1922.

Auckland Star, Volume LIII, Issue 96, 24 April 1922, Page 7

ANZAC DAY, 1922.

OUR DUTY T,O THE DEAD. (By L. M. EASTGATE.I Out through the curtain of dark hlue mist. Glittering gold where the sun has kissed. Out till it reaches the shining sea. Stretches the land that Is home to mc; Valley and hillock and wooded copse. Promise of wealth in the fresh green crops Mother of —others that gave mc birth, Bone of my bone is thy rich red earth, Flesh of my flesh is thy land to inc. The laud that ends in the shining sea.

Dear to ine ever thy country side. But dearer now for the men who died. Robbed of the richest of youth's long years, Steeling their hearts to a mother's tears. Fighting their way through a thousand hells, Bearing a cross like a cap and bells. Jeering at death as a last good joke. My thanks go up with the thin blue smoke, Marking the cottage that's home 'to mc. In the dear safe land by the shining sea.

It seems such an old story now to many of us—aye, even to those who fought and suffered with the- utmost of their powers. They wish to forget the Great War—'blot out those blood-red years when man's whole .being was keyed up-to the highest tension. The strain was intolerable and the rebound is so great that they have no desire to look at the sears—rather cover them up and forget. Let us cat, drink, and be merry. We saw so much of Death and suffering, strove and agonised until brain and nerves reached the limit of endurance, and only the great reserve forces enabled us to bold on. We fought a good fight and won—now ,we vant to close the door on those memories—God let us forget!

And who can wonder, and who dare blamed? No human being has the right to judge the men 'who, having come through the fire, strive to quench it with the cold waters of oblivion. And yet they are not allowed to forget—we are not ajlmwed to forget. God's great power and gift, Memory, a living force, forbids us to forget—dares us to forget. Memory, as a recording angel, holds high before us a scroll on which is written "Anzac." She challenges us by the 'heroic dead to keep this day hallowed—by the maimed, the blind," the mental sufferers, and by those who after effort and suffering have again taken up the conditions of everyday existence, and in home and national life are serving their country as faithfully as they did on the field.

Ours is a hallowed country, whose sons have died for its freedom, and an obligation rests on every one of us to keep our national life at the highest possible level, because that very national life and the peace and freedom of our homeland was bought with a price.

The guns are silent now. Silent the men that slecD; But would ye silence tbe live word That calls from deep to deep— "At what price are ye bought.'" Back to the Forge again, The Coal Mine and the Mart; Whether yon work by hand or brain, Give answer from your heart— "At what price are ye bought?" "Freely our Youth we gave. Our Hopes, onr Loves, our Life, Freedom and lasting Peace to win. To cleanse the world from strife. At that price are ye bought. "Though dimly seen tbe goal. We bargained not for price: Trusting, In faith we glady made The greater sacrifice. At that price are ye bought. "Though hard and rough your road, A harder yet we trod; Repay our trust, redeem the price, •Strive for one Brotherhood. Else vainly are ye bought." On Anzac Day our eyes turn again to far-off Gallipoli, where the scarlet • poppies bloom and the wild flowers star the untrodden grass. The rosemary that once grew in the homeland of our boys lies on those dear sacred spots marked by little wooden crosses— I blessed Cross, undying 6ymbol of self- ; sacrifice and resurrection. How green and still t u °se once war-wracked slopes,' how blue those waters once dyed with J the blood of heroes! On this Anzac Day let us look upon them and be still and remember —remember that glorious and terrible landing and the days of heroic effort and endurance which followed. It is good for us to remember, j for on that day for the first time New i Zealandens gave up their lives for their! country and their homes. Remember — and who that realises it will not face ■ and accept the responsibility of so living, individually and nationally- that he is sharing the tradition which inspired , those men of Anzac; and loyally passing . on to those who come after him the torch which lit their path of Duty? Our individual and local interests, our rivalries and selfishness recede into the background to-day. We are on hallowed ground, breathing that fine air where , great forces vibrate and inspire men to noble deeds and high living. We may not always remain on the heights, but it is necessary for us to climb them

sometimes, lest in our busy materia; lives we grow poor and narrow. Let Materialism be our servant —it is dangerously near being our master at present —and in place of that deadly foe to man's progress open our e*es to the vision of the mountain toD —to that which inspires and uplifts. Let us fall into line with the men who fought and died that we might live, and in the greatest war of all fight for Loyalty, Honour, and Faith in our homes, our country, our Empire, and the world.

Yea. let mc live my life, its meaning seek; Bear myself fitly in the ringing fight: Strive to be strong that I may aid tbe weak, Dare to be trne—O God! the Light: the • Light!

Over the border where they have life our beloved know the great realities as we cannot. In their passing their swift feet mounted the rocky slopes and reached the 6Ummit. and they call back to us, "Follow on." It rests with us to build the only memorial worthy of the Great Cause and the men who suffered and died for it. That memorial will stand in no city or country. It will be neither stately building nor beautiful road nor work of art. No cathedral could contain it, for it will be ■built in and by the hearts of the people. It will bo glorious with Love, rich with self-sacrifice, splendid with courage, spotless with purity, fair with sincerity in thoi _ht and word and deed, and in that mighty work shall We. who are the country and the Empire, be linked in an unbreakable bond with our beloved who. a little way ahead, belong with us to the Empire of God.

Though he that, ever kind and true. Kept stoutly step hy sten with you Your whole long lusty lifetime through. Be gone a while hefore: Yet, doubt not. soon the season shall restore Your friend to you.

■He is not dead, this frlenn"; not Head. Tint on some road, by mortals tread. Got Mime few trifling steps ahead. And nearer to the end: So that you. too, ouee past the bend. Shall meet again, as face to face, this friend You fancy dead.

Push gaily on. brave heart, the while Yon travel forward mile by mile. 'He loiters, 'with a backward smile. Till you can overtake: And strains his eyes to search his wake. Or, whistling as he sees you through the brake. Waits on a stile. R.L.S.

ANZAC DAY, APRIL 23, 1922. Pause hut a moment, whilst In" solemn thought, We bridge the chasm of immortal space: Whilst once again we live with those who fought And fell, to give posterity a place. Stay hut a moment, whilst with ling'ring pride. We call to niem'ry dear Ihelr gallant stand: These are the' men who dlil and dared— and tiled: These are tbe heroes of ib.it deathless band.

Oh. tarry for a space from worldly strife. And turn your thoughts to their undying fame!

For us. each gave his honour, love—nnd life: Oh. link your souls with their Immortal flame! Oh, treasure in your heart their sacrifice. And join in hand with them across the grave! For us, each paid the full, relentless price; These are the selfless and undying brate-

Oh stay! And let remembrance of ihelr deeds

(Be mine world-wide, that all who run may read: lOn bended knee we thank the God who breeds Such men, and proudly claim we are tbeir feed. This little fiandful—faced against great ochls. Rut fighting step by step, ere vet they fell! This little handful—resting 'ne.ith the sods. 1 Whose dauntless spirit death can never ! quell! Oh stay! And consecrate this sacred day. 1 To Mem'ry's hallowed sway and Joyous i pride. Where they have led. shall we, then, shirk the way Which war-worn feet have trod and glorified? " No. no! Far shall the distant breezes ring, With paeans of the praise we now acclaim; I Age-long shall little Joyous children sing: ! "These are the men who fell for Honour's i name!" —ELLA BASTEN. i _ THE ANZACS. Twin brothers they: the same brave blood Flowed through their veins, the same high hopes For victory or death, when through the flood They rushed and swiftly stormed the slopes— "Straight as their bayonet blades!"— And io! the fateful shades That closed that April day Cloaked from the weeping gods Those godlike men, who, counting not tile odds. Died gloriously that Freedom should hold sway. -FRANCIS UTTING.