A PILGRIMAGE

Otago Daily Times, Issue 18141, 12 January 1921, Page 2

A PILGRIMAGE

By Ron a M. Axxen. Walter Patpr says the best moments in our lives are those in which we have a quickened sense of life, ecstasy, and sorrow of love. Those who go as pilgrims to Handers’ Fields where “The poppies grow 1 Between the crosses Row on row ” will experience such moments, and will carry away with them the memory of something precious which a quickened sense has once perceived.

It is a soft September afternoon when we arrive at Amiens, the first stage in our pilgrimage; there is just light enough to lose ourselves for a little m the beauty of its cathedral, which, having braved .the war years, still stands sentinel in the midst of the town in all its perfect harmony of form, alive with hissing devils and speaking Christs, wrought wrth the original sincerity of feeling and' craftsmanship that was in those builders of 709 years ago. Perfect consummation of Gothic art! How many have rested as we did in the comfort of the force and intellect which you express? The next day takes on the- nature of a mission as well as a pilgrimage, for my father, in his official position as High Commissioner for New Zealand, is bound for Longueville to consult with the Mayor about a piece of ground on which to place a memorial to New Zealand soldiers who fell in action near by. We pass the ruinqd little villages of liongueau, Trouville, Villets Bretteneux, Ravincourt, till at last Peronne is reached. Here the French Lieutenant who is accompanying us pulls up at the office of the sub-prefet (military) of the district, who, if- he will, can help on the business of thp day by his presence at Longueville. The room into >vhioh we are shown is very small; where one catches glirnp>sos of hand-bound Pascal’s, Victor Hugo’s, and Descartes, taking up most of the space. The sub-prefet looks very young in spite of his grey hair,- and the charm of his welcome makes up for the desolation of the wrecked town through which we have , just driven. He puts his little black cocker spaniel on my knee for me to play with while he turns to hear what is wanted, and presently says ho will help us by coming as far as Longueville.

Half an hour out of Peronne and we see on our right ail that is left of DeLvill© Wood, five minutes more we pull up in front of the little wooden shed which is Longueville’s Town Hall. We go inside, and see that the floor of the Town' Hall is being swept by a very little French girl, who has two large plaits and very bright brown eyes. She looks positively radiant when , the sub-prefet lifts her up in ]iis arms a minute. Certainly Monsieur looks very charming, and there is a soft light in his eyes as he does this. The lieutenant introduces the High Commissioner to the Mayor, who is the other occupant of the building, and the business on which he has come is explained. New Zealand wishes to buy a plot of ground from the village of Longueville, at a spot-three kilometres from this Town Hall,. on which to erect a memorial to the Now Zealand soldiers who fell in battle in the autumn of 1918. Monsieur the Mayor is very voluble and anxious to do his best for everyone, above all to serve the interests of the poor peasants whom he represents. He also is determined as to the spirit in which the transaction is to be made. He will not take money for the land; it must bo a gift from his township to the New Zealand people, but ho will accept from New Zealand a gift in the shape of a machine to help them in their work of recultivating their farms. After much discussion and a little diplomacy everything is settled satisfactorily, and the little party wends its way across the fields to choose the spot-which, is to be set aside to do honour to those to whom honour is due. »

Presently we leave the little track, and push through long grass and poppies to a trench, which runs in the direction of Flera. From this trench the New Zealanders' sprang in a courageous attack two years ago. The big shell craters round about are lined with grass and poppies, too; and, lying embedded in their softness, one sees a rifle or helmet just as it was flung in some moment of stress. A small plot of land is marked out hard by on which shall stand the beautiful monument designed by a New Zealand architect who is at present in England. We walk back to the hall, and in. a little speech the High. Commissioner thanks the Mayor, and the officers for their kindness and courtesy, and hopes the gift from New Zealand will be of great service to them in tilling the land. He would like the 1 Mayor to accept from himself a small gift for the poorest children of the district. I look up and see that the Frenchmen’s eyes are moist, as well as ours, when, he says that this moment will add a little to the warmth of good feeling and understanding between France and New Zealand. It is quite an impressive little gathering now, for some citizens of Longueville had joined us, and w© are all standing very erect, even the little girl in the background still holding the broom. The Mayor replies, saying tlat the piece of ground which is New Zealand’s will always be reverenced and protected by the citizens, who know what New Zealand gave in the great war. Then we take the road again, this time to Airas, Lille, and Paris, days so full of meaning and beauty that back in thundering London the remembrance seems olmqst a protection. ‘(France, you have held me in your-arms a minute, I treasure the recollection of your touch on my'brow.”