THE New Zealand Herald AND DAILY SOUTHERN CROSS FRIDAY, APRIL 24, 1936 ANZAC DAY

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXXIII, Issue 22402, 24 April 1936, Page 14

THE New Zealand Herald AND DAILY SOUTHERN CROSS FRIDAY, APRIL 24, 1936 ANZAC DAY

It is twenty-one years since Anzac Day was born —since men of the Australian and New Zealand Army Corps made themselves a name in the exploit of The Landing on Gallipoli, writing into history theii* own dauntless daring and the honour of the faraway southern lands from which they came. Time has been powerless to make thai; deed other than it really was. Criticism of the strategy that placed them there, regret that so many of them should seem to have given their lives in vain, review of the whole woi Id-episode of the Great War as a colossal folly, all have left untax-nished the record of their splendid courage, worthy of the plains of old Troy and fit to rank with every story of high daring that helps to keep alive a needful spirit of heroism. Solemn remembrance is their due, and the due of all such; the paying of it is a duty to be gladly prized and performed, lest love of prowess should perish from the earth. Calm retrospect need never slip into cold aloofness to the inspiring fact. Rueful thought of sacrifice, even surviving personal grief over poignant loss, must give place inevitably, rightly, to robust judgment of events broadly 'scanned ; yet central can remain a reverent pride that in the hour of so exacting a test, and in like hours elsewhere in the prolonged conflict, the sons of these outer marches of the Empire showed mettle avouching their best British lineage. Well will it be, as oft as Anzac Day recurs, i:f memory of this proud meaning be found alert. Gone is all devotion of the day to inglorious boast, assuaged is the sorrow that once met it with many a private heartache, and even controversy about high military strategy takes quiet cover in expert textbooks. Only concerning observance of the day can there be ardent discussion, and even in this a sober judgment is winning way. Flippant neglect is seen to be out of keeping with the national occasion, just as surely as is morbid recall of emotions aforetime vibrant. Between them opens the path of decorous celebration, wherein honour to the valorous dead can be paid with devout thanksgiving for their service and example, and resolve quickened to achieve the better world for which they fought. Solemnity is fitting, yet no ceremonial sadnesis long drawn out. One ritual of remembrance should be incorporated in the general marking of the day. Ib is in the flying of the national flag, whose blended crosses so well betoken all that is sacredly and seriously brought to mind at such a time. Hitherto no rule has prevailed ; mast-high or at half-mast, as individual sentiment dictated or sectional order prescribed, the Union Jack has flown, in a diversity excusable but unbecoming. This could be obviated by an authoritative instruction, issued in conformity with technical details governing flag practice. At eight in the morning the flag could be run right up to the truck and immediately lowered to halfmast, there to remain until noon, when it could again be raised masthigh, to float there until sunset. Thus, in the first period, honour would be paid to the remembered dead, and for the rest of the day the flag would speak its rallying challenge to brave national endeavour. A little care, bestowed simply and uniformly, would in- this way give the day suitable distinction —how suitable must be evident when the dual purport of Anzac Day is considered. It is more than a memorial. Itn message is to the present and the future, and there is need for incitement to service. The Great War was to be followed by the Great Peace. This has not come. Plans for it have gone sadly awry. They were well meant. Much current condemnation of them is uninformed and unjust. Nevertheless, there can be little satisfaction with the outcome.

From the conning-tower of this Anzac Day the British lands of these South Seas—joined in more than the name of the anniversary—look out upon a world ill at ease and in peril, a world from which no leagues of geographical remoteness can ever again sever them. They are inescapably part of it. In the course of those twenty-one years they have come to a larger share of responsibility for its welfare. What can they do, what should they, as they see and feel it slipping once more down the deep descent 1 First is the duty of keeping their own heads, neither hoping blindly nor despairing cravenly. If Anzac Day means anything at all it means that they must be ready to play a part whenever storms gather. What that part is particularly to be depends largely upon their own decisions. But this duty cannot be rightly conceived unless with it is taken the duty of unswerving fidelity to the Empire. For better, for worse, Britain is by compelling circumstances more than by deliberate policy committed to some measure of co-operation in the affairs of Europe. Isolation is an outworn creed. And, in foreign eyes, Britain is the Empire. The fatal blunder of the Kaiser cannot be lightly repeated. The Empire as a. closely-knit unit can do much to decide the issues of peace and war in these critical days. To Australia and New Zealand these are fundamental facts. Again, they should by every available means serve the cause of the League, to which the Motherland is unequivocally pledged. Not without signifi cance is an Australian now chairman of the League Council. At the next election of non-permanent membera New Zealand is expected to be chosen for a place. Some things in the world-prospect are of doubtful interpretation, but for the Anzac lands loyalty to themselves, to the Empire and to the League opens a straight •road as this anniversary milestone is passed.