ANZAC COMMEMORATED.

Press, Volume LIII, Issue 15894, 7 May 1917, Page 2

ANZAC COMMEMORATED.

THE SOLDIERS' POINT OP YIETV. Memory is short, and a crowd, as a crowd, lias 110 imagination (writes E. 0. Xicol, an Aazac, in the Auckland "Herald"). Hcnce it is not a matter for wonder that the crowd which 'ined the route of the "Crocked Brigade'' o'.i Vny.no Day saw only the ranks of more or less shot about soldiers —the veriest fraction of this war's wastage and little of its worst wastage—heard only tho tread of feet which had lost the swing of their old-time march, and felt only the emotions which are stirred bv martial music, tho display of bunting and tho sight of men who hav© been and seen and suffered a bit. Here a there, of course, were individuals — women in black, fathers, aged vith grief, and girls whoso eyes void mora than their lips will ever tell —who .saw and remembered more than, tho passing uniforms, in "whose minds were pictured the strong, gay swinging ranks of former days and who sorrowed for the missing. But few, probably, felt or realised the emotions of the men "who marched. Some of the ''crocks" themselves had difficulty in analysing their feelings. The ranks showed littio sign of the turmoil within each man's breast, for that is an unwritten law which may not be broken. The music, the tnunp of feet, the keeping time. »nd all thatmilitary form gives to tho .vcung soldier, seemed all a part of yesterday. They marched by instinct, and the pride they once felt in their appearance bearing had changed, for the oulv pride each had was in the right to march with that good company, to share in the common, memories, to havo gone through the common testing. ! A MARCH OF FORMER DAYS. ! But there was no exaltation in this pride, for intermingled was sorrow and a deep sense of loss. For down that street they had once inarched or | ridden, a joyous, devil-may-care crew, tho lust of adventure upon them, and a I yearning to fathom tho great unknown unresting them. They pictured it all ! again, but in every one of tho old ratfks tbero were gaps never on, earth to bo | filled again. Other men might complete the lines, but never fill in gaps which to tho men of tho "Crockcd Brigade" will remain, empty for ever. That is why the returned soldier had littio pleasure in marching on Anzac Day, beyond that which attended tho meeting of comrades who survived. Each man for the time being was a mourner. A thousand phantom forms moved with them, and" old familiar voices com© ringing across two long red years from Quin's Post and Courtney's, from Russell's Top and Plugge's Plateau; from tho secret sap on Walker's Ridge and tho head of No. 2; from tfio nameless graves on Cbunulc Bair and the mounds on the outpost flat; from the fateful field of —o Daisy Patch and tho scarped crests on tho left; from tho ocean tracks of tho hospital ships and the dusty graveyards of Valetta; from the cemetcries of Egypt and the desert wastes east of Suez. From a hundred of earth's distant corners, which haro been salted down with the bones of New Zealand©rs, these voices called to this remnant of the remnant. Old comrades lived again and tho souls of regiments returned to being. Episodes, gay and tragic, came thronging back to the memory, half-forgotten incidents and ancient jokes of mates now dead chased j ono another through their minde. And they woro not sentimentalists these men who maxchod. They had come through experiences which had taught them to bo hard and callous in some respects, but to feel deeply their own losses. A SAORED DAY. The general public may feel that tho. keeping of Anzac Day commemorates an historic deed. Tho ex-soldier regards it moro as a sacred rite to tho memory of the dead. That is why a war-worn corporal wanted to know why there was bunting in tho street, and spoko some bitter things because he thought ho detected in a section, of the crowd the spirit of the holiday-maker, tho sight-seer, and the side-show patron,. It was also the reason why many men in uniform felt, as the memorial service in the Town Hall proceeded, that it was losing tho solemnity and dignity which the occasion demanded. They resented deeply advantage being taken of the occasion to make reference to matters which had no relation, to the graves of Anzac —matters such as weaknesses of some soldiers and many civilians, weaknesses which are a part of every war's reckoning. because of shattered nerves and wrecked constitutions. It was not for these things that the service was held. It was held to- honour ''the men who had paid the price," to keep green, their memory. That is by the way, however. The Anzac gathering put another golden scroll round the Gallipoli roll of honour. Over the broken earth of Anzac, which represents so much toil, pain, loss and disappointed hopes, the growth is creeping, and soon will hide the most of it from view. Tho hand of Nature is crumbling those mocking parapets to dust, but neither time nor distance will nvcr bring forgetfulness to the Gallipoli survivors of tJio men they left behind.