OUR BOYS.

Feilding Star, Volume XII, Issue 2971, 20 June 1916, Page 3

OUR BOYS.

NEW ZEALANDERS AT WESTMIN-

ISTER ARMEY

TOTAL OF 700 MEN ATTEND,

GREAT OVATION IN STREETS

London, April 25. To-day, the first anniversary of the landing of the New Zealand and Australian troops on the rugged shores of the Gallipoli Peninsula, has been observed as a solemn festival by Australians and New Zealanders in London. The overseas soldiers did not overlook the memory of their comrades in that terrible experience, for, hanging on tho rails of the chancel in Westminster Abbey, within four feet of the Queen, was a beautiful wreath inscribed: "To the 29th Division, from their New Zealand comrades in arms." It will be remembered that the New Zealand infantry were taken down to Holies early in May, and charged gallants- through the trenches held by the 88th Brigade. On the rails at tho other side was a wreath from the old boys of Wanganui Collegiate School, in memory of their dead.

Tho New Zealand base depot at Hornchurch provided 700 men towards the 2000 of ail anus who attended, as representing the armies of Australia and New Zealand. They came by train from Hornchurch and alighted at the Temple station, greatly to the disappointment of thousands in the city, who had looked forward to seeing them march from Fenchurch. Colonel C. H. J. Blown, Major Dawson, and Captain Price (adjutant) were the staff, and, of course, the whole arrangements were, under the oversight of General G. S. Richardson, who has taken over general control of all details in England. The Place of Honour. The place of honour in our procession was given to the 250 survivors of the actual landing who had happened to be in Hornchurch. Though no rifles were carried, the men looked remarkably well and soldierly, with their slouch hate, bandoliers, aud side arms, and they got a tremendous reception as they marched through the streets. Tho ovation was spontaneous and genuine. From the rendezvous at Aldwych to the Abbey the procession took possession of London. The long, swinging line of khaki was a revelation, and arrested the admiration of seasoned soldiers from many climes recovering from their wounds in Loudon, or spending a few days of rest there from the trenches of Flanders. All along the route groups of Tommies, South Africans, Canadians, even Cossacks from the Don, Belgians from Nieuport, and an occasional steel-helmeted poilu— for London has all these races in its arms to-day—stood at attention and admired the soldiers from Gallipoli. Scene in the Abbey. The men inarched into the Abbey at the AVest door, and without fuss or disorder, filed into their pews, rank after rank, squad after squad, platoon after platoon, until one wondered that even this noble edifice could contain so many. Both transepts and most of the naves wore filled with a solid mass of them, until there was only room for GOO of the privileged public to enter also. Even with the bright sun outside, the perspectives of the abbey aro dimmed, toned down, and softened by the distances. Subdued lights steal in through the stained windows and between the massive columns. There is only one corner of the whole great temple that is bright ; and that happens to be the corner devoted chiefly to the New Zealanders. The whole floor of the great church is covered by khaki-clad figures. It is only here, where the sun strikes clearly, that we recognise the shoulder badges of the !Sew Zealand Expeditionary Force, and see tho slouch hats of the New Zealand Infantry, hung upon the tombs of the ages. "The Last Post." Punctually at 11.30 o'clock the organ bursts into tho strains of tho National Anthem, and the King arrives. An impressive servico followed, during which the dean called the congregation to "praise and thanksgiving for those of our broWicrs who died at Gallipoli for their King and Empire, in the high cause of freedom and honour." The different units of Australia and New Zealand who took part in tho landing were mentioned individually. Tho dramatic moment of the whole solemn oeremony was undoubtedly the last, when the trumpeters of the New Zealand Mounted Rifles, from the aisle at the side of the chancel, blew tho poignant appeal of the "Last Post," the shrill, clear notes echoing and re-eohoing through the storied columns and arches of the abbey. For fully a minute after the last sound had died away there was an unbroken silence, and then slowly, like a faint breeze rising in the trees, a hum of movement .supervened, and the historic gathering commenced to dissolve.