Wellington’s Farewell

Camp News, Volume 1, Issue 5, 12 January 1940, Page 4

Wellington’s Farewell

To New Zealand’s Second Expeditionary Force

Magnificent and Inspiring Spectacle

columns of Parliament Buildings

Not since the last war has Wellington given such an enthusiastic public demonstration as that which tens of thousands of its citizens gave to the First Echelon of the Second New Zealand Expeditionary Force, which passed through the City streets last Wednesday week.

The march of the young soldiers was a brilliant and impressive scene, one of deep emotion; of deeper thougnt, tinged with a sadness subservient to a thrilling and involuntary surge of patriotism. The fact that this is the Dominion’s Centennial year increased the poignancy of the parade of young men who are freely giving themselves to safeguard the country’s progress New Zealand ,is celebrating. The ceremony over, and the men off on their march through the city, and the full immensity of the crowd became apparent. Lambton Quay, its thousands swollen by the swarms disgorged from the grounds where the ceremony had taken place, was a drifting river of people, building to building; and when eventually motor-cars and trams tried to reclaim thoroughfare, the scuffle. and murmur of the crowd were overlaid by a blanket of sirens and gongs.

More than an hour before the ceremony was timed to begin, practically all points of vantage had been taken. A huge crowd had taken possession of the ground in front of the Government Buildings. Molesworth Street had been transformed into a solid mass sliced by a ribbon of roadway, and the grounds themselves were held by an expectant multitude. But still people arrived, cramming the steps leading to the plateau and controlled by patient police.

In the sultry warmth of the summer morning there was that hush that comes with crowded humanity waiting for something to happen. Burst of cheering and clapping rose spontaneously as the first of the bands swung the marching men into view,’ marching three abreast in precise columns across one of the few cleared spaces before being engulfed by the thousands of watchers. Only the muzzles of the rifles, with occasional flashes from band instruments, marked the progress of the troops until they began to mount the winding carriageway. Cheering was renewed when at last the men were freed from the flanking lines of well-wishers, arid echoed from the street below as a second unit appeared. Whistles of officers shrilled and orders were rapped as the soldiers passed before the

As a background to this moving scene of willing sacrifice were the three grey and graceful funnels of a waiting troopship, the sternmost of which fumed idly, and, further away, the tall control tower of H.M.S. Ramillies, grimly capable.

The tall buildings surrounding Parliament Buildings had been utilised as an effective gallery. Heads packed the higher windows of Government buildings, a few of the more intrepid watchers clung to the sloping iron of the roof, and copings, roofs and window-sills of other buildings each bore their burden of people. Under the effect of foreshortening, the railway station seemed girdled with flags, some drooping, and the lighter standards fluttering weakly.

The background spoke of New Zea land determination to carry on.

THE OFFICIAL STAGE.

Before the main steps of Parliament Buildings was the official staging, studded with the white crowns of naval hats, and flecked with many colours, but none brighter, at the moment, than the Union Jacks that draped the boxed sides. Microphones bristled, cameramen made the only movement that disturbed the ordered appearance of the ground occupied by the soldiers, now at ease, and a movie camera mounted on a van whirred softly. The buildings were surrounded by flags; indeed, from that corner of

Wellington all the city seemed be flagged.

And the tramp of the feet and the shrill of whistles continued. Yet an-

other band wheeled smartly, with “Keep the Home Fires Burning”; more orders ripped out, more expert rifle drill. And when at last the long rank of men were ready, trim in their khaki, the colours of their puggarees the only distinguishing feature, cheering broke out anew as the Prime Minister descended the steps.

A sharp order, the bayonets rattled as they were fixed. A voice made stentorian by a loud-speaker called the parade to order, and in perfect unity arms were presented for the Royal salute. The strains of the National Anthem, never more impressive and inspiring, spread with dignity through the grounds, and as arms were again sloped, clapping that could not be checked came from the crowd in appreciation of the expertness of the troops.

None watched the young soldiers of to-day with more interest and more feeling than the returned men who fought in the last war. Themselves in the parade, they stood in fours in Molesworth Street, hundreds who gave of their best in the last war. Medals

were mute evidence of deeds of bravery and service, and it was when the Prime Minister mentioned MajorGeneral Sir Andrew Russell, their leader in the Great War, that they led the applause. While the speeches of thanks, praise and farewell continued, the statue of Richard John Seddon, overlooking the gathered people, assumed a greater significance. The upraised aim seemed to be raised in exhortation, appealing to New Zealanders to follow the soldiers in their patriotic efforts. At last the farewell was over. The first lines to move off were the returned men, and the rest of the units followed in the order in which they arrived. Military bands played the first of the marching, and then the band of H.M.S. Ramillies, stationary opposite the Government Buildings, took up the playing.