TO THE BRAVE.

Manawatu Times, Volume XLVIII, Issue 2434, 28 July 1924, Page 5

TO THE BRAVE.

SOLDIERS FROM ST. ANDREW’S CHURCH. UNVEILING ROLL OF HONOR. Despite the Inclement weather, St, Andrew’s Church was crowded at yesterday morning's service, the occasion being the unveiling of a Roll of Honour to the men who had gone from the congregation in response to the call of duty in the late war. Cadets and territorials occupied the front seats in the centre of the Church. The pulpit was draped with the New Zealand ensign, while the Roll, covered with a large flag, was draped on either side with the Union Jack and a New Zealand ensign, and surmounted by a beautiful wreath of violets presented by Mr A. C. Bradfield. Rev. D. J, A. Shaw, C.F., chief chaplain of the Presbyterian Church of New Zealand, occupied the pulpit. The service appropriately commenced by the singing of tho National Anthem, and the whole service was in keeping with the solemn occasion.. After an appropriate prayer, the congregation stood reverently while Col. Powles, C.M.G., D. 5.0., A.D.C. unveiled the roll in the honour off Almighty God and the brave men who went forth from the congregation and gave their lives in the Great War that might should not be right. In a few well-chosen words, ho expressed the hope that all who should in future gaze upon that memento of the bravery of the past, should be inspired, with all noble ambition to emulate those who had gone before, until the great day when the horrors of war should be known no more upon earth. A moment of solemn silence followed the unveiling. In a striking and Impressive address, Rev. D. J. A. Shaw dealt with the Incident in which David in a time of extremity realised how noble were these about him, and was inspired to unequalled nobility as a result. It was a time of war. and in the clash of arms there was experienced all the horrors incidental to war as we know it. Amongst other things, the water had been cut off. David, afflicted with intense thirst, expressed a wish for some of the water from the well at the gate of Bethleham. Three devoted men, realising his need took their lives in their hands, broke through the hosts of the Philistines, and brought back some of the coveted water. It might seem a little thing, but in the truest sense it was a noble act. As David gazed upon their battened armour and gaping wounds, nobility stirred his soul, and he felt it would be a sacrilege to accept for himself the costly gift of sacrifice. He poured out the water as an offering to his God. That incident was appropriate to the present occasion, as being significant of three facts —Firstly, a great need; secondly, a grout sacrifice, and thirdly, a great recognition. First, the Great Need: Masefield told how the men on Gallipod toiled amid danger and filth, and fought under the blistering sun on one pint of water a day. Soon after the war began it seemed as if Germany bestrode tho world as a great colossus. It hurt our pride, we had talked glibly—Germany wag to be driven back in a month or two; Belgium held the breach, and our soul sickened at'what happened there. We remembered all too well what happened. It was the day of our dire extremity, a day of great need. Secondly, what we needed to remember was the great sacrifice. The flower of our mankind flocked to the standard from every part of the Empire. It was not merely that they came, but the spirit in which they came that counted. What a priceless gift they gave! It was then that we longed, above all things, for peace. With the jeopardy of their life, they gave it to us. As Rupert Brooke sings:— “Blow our you bugles over the rich, dead. There’s none of these, so lonely and poor of old But, dying, has made us rarer gifts than gold. These laid tho world away, poured out the red, Sweet wine of youth; gave up the years to bo Of work and joy, and that unhoped serene That men call age; and those who would have been Their sons, they gave their immortality. “Blow bugles, blow, they brought us for our death Holiness, lacked so long, and Love and . Pain. Honour has come back, as a king to earth. And paid his subjects with a royal wage; And nobleness walks in our ways again; And we have come into our heritage.” We had come into our heritage. Once we spoke of a far-flung Empire. Now we had our own share. By the sacrifice of our men, we had made for ourselves a place in the sun. How did we recognise that sacrifice, and what use did we make of it? David poured it out as a sacrifice to God. What were we doing? It was good to set up memorials in churches and public places. Wo would be poor spirited if we did not. We set apart one day a year, and called it Anzac Day. Was that enough? It was ours to live for peace as they died for it, to put away all meanness and raaiace and shame lest their sacrifice be in vain. McCrae’s lines came to our mind: — “To you, from failing hands we throw The torch, be yours to hold it high. If you break faith with us who die. We shall not sleep, though poppies grow In Flanders’ fields.” It was ours to live In the spirit that animated them, until the kingdoms of this -world became the kingdoms of our God and of His Christ for ever. During the service the solo, “The Lord God of Abraham," from “Elijah,” was effectively rendered by Mr W. Blair Tennent.