Anzac Day gap was not narrowed

Press, Volume CXI, Issue 32589, 24 April 1971, Page 4

Anzac Day gap was not narrowed

Anzac Day—a time to look back or forwards? This was the question posed by “Gallery’s” David Exel to Air Commodore T. F. GiU, M.P, and Mr D. Cayglll, president of the University of Canterbury Students’ Association, on the eve of another Anzac* Day observance anT against a background of the continuing conflict in Vietnam and ominous rumblings on the ballistic missile front

Judging by the numbers of letters to the editor of “The Press,” this is a topic which is exercising many minds in the community. The “Gallery” programme was obviously aimed at finding some area of agreement, but in spite of the efforts of Mr Exel, the representatives of the I two schools of thought ' refused to mix it in the middle of the ring. Air Commodore Gill calmly maintained that Anzac Day was a time for remembrance, and not an : occasion to raise the issue of whether the fallen had made a wise or proper sacrifice.

Mr Caygill, just as calmly, i said the students had no I intention of being ill--mannered in their approach to the observance, but wished to make their dedication to peace. Much of the comment from the two spokesmen was repetitious, and the gap between them was consequently just as wide at the end of the programme as it was at the start. Air Commodore Gill’s one con-

cession was that the students could make- their point on any of the other 364 days of the year, but Mr Caygill was adamant that he wanted to be a part of Anzac Day. He did not place sufficient emphasis, however, on the point that this was the obvious day for the students to make their showing, because tile public’s attention was focused on the subject. j The most succinct comment was contained in a film clip of a speech by the Governor General (Sir Arthur Porritt). He said that each conflict meant more names being engraved on the memorials, and that war was a game that no-one won. The outcome of the programme was not a defeat for "Gallery.” It merely served to show that the two schools of thought remain steadfast in their beliefs at this point in time. But the character of the Anzac Day observance has changed since the first day, in 1916. Who can say what the outcome of a similar debate 20 years hence would be?

Thursday evening’s regular programmes showed a

marked change for the better from the mediocre offerings Of the previous week. "It Takes A Thief” spun a web of intrigue in Nice, and Robert Wagner and Susan Saint James indulged -in a most friendly rivalry for the booty.

Al Mundy (Wagner), with the aid of a mouse, made off with a Matisse to set off a series of skirmishes, ending with a double doublecross in a convent. The

baleful Barry Kroeger, as Kraus, helped the stars to make this offering a much more acceptable piece of entertainment.

“Ironside,” too, presented a more convincing story, with the chief and his cohorts solving two murders against a background of drug addiction; Mark Sanger gaining a more mature appreciation of the law in the process. But probably the biggest rise in standard was achieved by “Never Mind the Quality, Feel the Width.” After a slow beginning, the second episode in this series became a most acceptable romp into the realms of humour. Some of the lines were a little humdrum, but the situations represented a vast improvement on those of the initial offering. The principals did their work well, but much of the success of the programme was attributable to Margery Mason and Paul Farrell, as the elderly couple. They handled their roles with just the right touch of impishness.—PANDOßA.