An Anzac Message

Auckland Star, Volume LXX, Issue 94, 22 April 1939, Page 2 (Supplement)

An Anzac Message

By--The Reo. C. W. Chandler

"I sins °f hearts triumphant, long ranks of inarching men. And wilt them sins the shadowy hosts that never march (From "The Cry of Youth," by Harry Kemp.)

AGAIN, before another week has passed, we shall have honoured our slain, in the annual commemoration of Anzac Day. Janus, in a recent issue of the "Spectator," has something to say about the formality of Ministers of the Crown, when visiting other countries, in placing wreaths at the feet of statues. He wonders whether it is not just as formal as calling and leaving cards, and then concludes his remarks by saying, "when virtue has gone out of a ceremony it becomes a vice." Even now the returned soldiers belonging to one branch of the N.Z.R.S.A. seem to be airing similar sentiments.

With all this we cannot agree. The more vividly we remember the awfuhws of the la*t debacle, and the tremendous sacrilke <>f flesh and blood that was entailed, the less likely shall we be to rush into the maelstrom of another war. The longer that evil day can be postponed, the longer shall we escape the charge of having betrayed the thousand* who died in that "war to end war" of 1914-1918. If so be that the prayers and aspirations of all mankind result in finally outlawing this barbaric method of settling our disputes, then every man that fell in the Great War will be worthy of a martyr's crown. If this hope cannot be realised, they will not be the less deserving of eternal merit, in that they did what they considered best to bring this happy state of things about. There is a growing body of opinion which feels that nothing short of a wholesale return of Christian people to the teachings of Christ (which in the past have seemed so impracticable) will usher in thie -reign for peace for which we long. .Meanwhile, we. <=till listen to the measured footsteps of the marching men and to the whirling of aeroplane propellers, and to the rumbling of the heavy artillery along the highways of the world. The same dull tread, with its note of weariness, that our fathers heard in association with Waterloo, Crimea and Mafeking. The same ominous tread that people in all ages have heard as their warriors marched into battle. Thus it i<4 that on Anzac Day we think of tliorie "Shadowy hosts who will never march again," or who, maybe, are marching now across the battlements of eternity, toward* a "richer, fairer, dawn." Men of like passione with ourselves. Each was well able to rock a cradle as fire a gun. and each as loath to leave the cherished circle of home at the sound of a call which they felt wa« for them as was the Lord Christ Himself to resort to arms in the face of His enemies.

Human nature, when let go its own sweet domestic way, is altogether lovely, and the memories which we hold' of intimate faces which we know in those shadowy h<--sts are so dear that the very thought of discontinuing thi* annual commemoration of their valour cannot but bring pain to the stricken hearts of those for whom its discontinnance would spell nothing less than bam ingratitude. "

Whether we are one incli nearer the final objective of universal brotherlibod and peace, as a result of their sacrifice, is another matter altogether. That ia our responsibility, not theirs. If we are not. then it means that we have failed to build upon the foundation which they laid with their lives, and have, in a large meagre, dishonoured the charter which they sealed with their blood. Because, a* Christians we believe in the communion of saints, we must also believe that they are witnesses of their own betrayal, during days r.f frenzied preparation for another outpouring of sacrificial blood. Thirty pieces of silver was the price which Judas received when he betrayed the Christ. What is the price that some people gtand to receive in connection with this other betrayal which all the world's afearing! Still we hear the sound of marching nieii. \ ;■-. and even of boys, for as the he;-' -n which knew not God cast their cliii en at the feet of Moloch, so the present insanity demands that ere a child has really learned that "God is love/' he shall take hie place at the rear of this unbroken procession of marching men. And not one of us in our heart of hearts would have it so. Thie statement is a thousand times more true of those who will never march again. Let it be said that if another generation of virile young eligiblee was not ready for the next debacle, there would not be another war. Most of those who were comrades in arms with the Men of Anzac are now too old, if not too weary, to face the same ordeal again. Indeed, they too, in their heart of hearts, must be amongst the stauncheet advocates of peace. One of the most encouraging features of our present unrest is that Britain, through her Prime Minister, is plainly ■showing that ehe is prepared to pay a. price for peace. Hence her famous Munich conversation; her recognition of Italy's sovereignty in Abyssinia, and General Franco's Government in Spain, and even Hitlers annexation of Sudetenland, if not of the whole of Czechoslovakia. Because of these acts of recognition there are those who think that Mr. Chamberlain has shown great weakness, but at the «ime time there u> a far larger body of opinion which feels that this is but a part of the price which some smaller nations of the world hav« been willing to pay for the peace ~cj ; mankind. Just whether such bargaining for peace is going to be lost on those who interpret all acts of generosity as signs of weakne**, the future alone can tell. At least on Anzac Day, if on no other day, our thoughts, our words, and bur prayers should turn to those who paid the highest price they could, in the nepe that by so doing, they would brings about the realisation of this age-long dream that "swords should be beaten into ploughshares," and "the lion should lie down with the lamb."