THE New Zealand Herald AND DAILY SOUTHERN CROSS. THURSDAY, APRIL 24, 1924. A DAY OF REMEMBRANCE.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXI, Issue 18692, 24 April 1924, Page 6

THE New Zealand Herald AND DAILY SOUTHERN CROSS. THURSDAY, APRIL 24, 1924. A DAY OF REMEMBRANCE.

Axzac Day, the Dominion's most solemn memorial of the war, awakens mingled emotions. It brings a remembrance that includes both sorrow and pride. Tears well anew, but they have a sacred lustre. The bay blends with the cypress in the wreaths woven by love's unwearying thought. There can be no forgetting of the young lives laid down; nor can there be forgotten the deeds and sacrifices that gave to their survivors this day and all it means. Involuntarily, it is to the great Gallipoli exploit that memory first.turns. "The landing" is for many love's holiest trysting-place, a rendezvous of sweetest sorrow. Yet not of Gallipoli alone, but of all the scattered places of the war, this day of days brings poignant reminder. It is kept in memory of all the valorous dead who gave their lives that freedom might not perish from the earth. On many a battlefront, by sea and land, they stood for others' defence. They knew a soldier's duty, as Ruskin praised it, the duty that shows itself in a willingness to die ; and they grudged no sacrifice, not even of life itself, that might win for the world a better security against vaunting tyranny. To their dear memory all other thoughts this day give place. Differences of creed and class are lost in a fraternity of truly human feeling.

In the gladness that lustres reawakened grief one element shines supreme. It is the rebirth of courage that came to the world so wondrously in the days of the war. Close observers of life in pre-war times deplored a weakening of the moral fibre of the race. Emerson scathingly denounced the parloursoldiers abounding in a day marked by the decay of courage. Tennyson poured scorn upon the insidious blessings of peace. Their impassioned warnings became the commonplaces of later writers of less brilliancy, all agreed that, in the easier circumstances that were become common, men were losing the stalwart virtues nurtured aforetime by hardship. The war drove ease away. So searching a crisis thrust men and women suddenly into situations' where cherished formulas of conduct were useless. New dangers and new duties multiplied for everybody; but especially to men of young and middle age, for to them came the call to bear arms in active service. And it was a service that, in the actual zones of war, was more exacting than any the world had ever known. Amid these conditions there came a new demand for courage, and none answered to the need better than those who went out from us to the front. They made a reputation for themselves and this Dominion, and we cherish their memory to-day with gratitude not only for the deeds they performed .but for the spirit in which those great deeds were done.

Although the war has long been over, its battles are being refought again and again with the pen. High commands are being criticised. Campaign plans are reviewed unsparingly. There is scarcely a phase of the struggle not brought within the critic's purview. From some point or other everything, it seems, might have been better done. Into that wordy warfare there is no need for most of us to go; even for the experts it seems a somewhat fruitless undertaking. But all the argument in the world about this strategy or that engagement leaves the glory commemorated by Anzac Day untarnished, (untouched. That glory abides in the high courage and selfless sacrifice of the men who bore the battle's brunt. Out of the fiery test they came with honour. Campaign plans may have been at fault, but their bearing was beyond praise. Strategic points may have been lightly lost, but their reputation was inviolate. And if there be a fear that the best use has not been made of their sacrifice, that somehow we have bungled the peace and missed what it should have brought to us, that is not their fault. They gave :us the opportunity and set us an example of high endeavour; and, whether the fruits of war be good or not, their heroism merits our deepest thankfulness. The army of the dead goes by. We owe it more than we can tell or pay. The least that we can do is to give it, as it | passes, a reverent salute.