SYDNEY REJOICES.

Hokitika Guardian, 23 November 1918, Page 4

SYDNEY REJOICES.

* REMARKABLE SCENES IN STREETS. Sydney, Nov 9 Sydney lost its blase air yesterday. It was a new and strange and very attractive Sydney, never to be forgotten by those who saw it (says the “Sydney Morning "Herald'.”) Soon after dawn there came a Press message stating definitely that Germany had agreed to the armistice terms dictated by the Allies, and that hostilities had ceased on the West front on Thursday afternoon. Special editions of the newspapers were examined, the people satisfied themselves that the news so eagerly awaited in the past _ few days was there—and then the}let themselves go. It was a unique and wonderful sight—that of a great city simply abandoning itself to a frenzy of joy. The temptation had pressed hard upon the people in recent months, but they seemed instinctively to resist it. Great victories have been won on the West front, in Macedonia, in Palestine—but not even a joybell rang. People were pleased, but no one could see the end of the war j'et, and nothing else mattered. Then Bulgaria surrendered, the Central Alliance began to crumble. Sydney was interested, but not stirred. Turkey capitulated, and the joybells were heard, but still Sydney kept calm. “ Good, but we’ve got Germany and Austria to beat yet,” said the man in the street. The Italians smashed the Austrian army, and the once powerful dual monarchy began to crumble. Austria surrendered, and again the joybells rang out. Sydney’s feelings were obviously moved, but still Sydney refused to cheer. “The Hun isn’t beaten yet. We’ll cheer all right when that happens,” said Sydney. But there were those who said, disgustedly, that Sydney was without a soul, and w.i; incapable of cheering. SYDNEY I.ETS GO. But the storm of rejoicing which broke over the city yesterday morn- = ing showed us a Sydney canable ol tremendous feeling. It also showed the grim spirit of restraint, deter- j initiation to wait and see it through, ! under which the people have been living for four terrible years. Germany was finished, complete victory had been won, the war was over—the populace decided that the moment had come to be glad, and they simply let go and plunged into the joyous tide flowing strongly into the streets. The steam whistles on the railway engines and ferry boats spread the news abroad discordantly but definitely. It met the thousands streaming into the city to work, byrail, tram, and steamer, and it threw fhem off their accustomed balance. Anglo-Saxon reserve for once disappeared, and passengers everywhere formed themselves into groups, and cheered, and sang patriotic songs, and cheered again. There were tumultuous scenes on ? the ferry boats, where there is more freedom and less noise than on trains. Usually sober citizens jumped about, cheered, insisted on doing- all sorts of wiid things to show their delight. . TJTTr.E WoKK ATTEMPTED. Work ! Who would work on such a day? One must get into the open air, and yell—or at any rate make a noise. -The thought seemed to sweep simultaneously over a hundred thousand toilers. They simply went to factory, shop, anil office, took one look at their'accustomed tasks, and fled. Wherever it did not involve matters of urgency, they took with them the smiling benediction of their employers. “ Make a day of it,” said the latter—but the admonition was not needed. By 10 o’clock the streets were filled to capacity with the gayest, happiest throng ever seen in Sydney. Flags festooned every building. Armies of girl-employees marched en masse out of the principal shops, armed themselves with all descriptions of flags, and pro-

ceeded most thoroughly to rejoice. Companies of wharf-labourers “ downed hooks ” and hurried into the main streets. The men from scores of workshops “called it a day,” and joined in the celebrations. The news swept like wildfire through the suburbs. Suburban residents, hearing the whistles and bells, permitted themselves to be thrilled. Then came more news, passed rapidly from mouth to mouth —“The city’s gone mad. You can’t move in Martin place.” Every suburban resident decided to go into the city, and join in the madness. The scene in the city streets at noon beggared description. Every contingent from every shop and factory formed into a kind of procession. and, singing and waving flags, marched up and down- Con tingents joined forces, and made imposing processions. Most remarkable of all were the “joyriders.,’ Scores of motors, lorries, and trollej’s, freed by generous employers, were placed at the disposal iof the crowds. They were quickly filled with excited girls and boys, who drove backwards and forwards' Singing, laughing, throwing kisses and confetti, and waving flags. APPALLING NOISE. And over and above it all there ! presided a most appalling volume I of noise. Sydney, with its narrow I streets and congested tram service ! is noisy enough at any time, but 1 this joy-clamour that arose was somethingferocious and inaddeuin ciint were possible to have reduced it to its component parts, it would have been found to comprise cheers tincans. yells, rattles, hooters’, trumpets, whistles and bells, with a distinct hammering of motor-horns and tram-gongs. It never ceased. Hour after hour it increased in intensity, until the terrible distracting roar sent nervy people fleeing to the quiet suburbs. Every man, woman and child seemed to carry some instrument of jnfernal torture to the ears, and to glory in its use. But there were no complaints. The expressions of the crowd ranged from quiet satisfaction to exuberant joy, and not a face showed irritation or discontent.

Some peopleseemed tolerant. “ It’s a quaint way ot announcing the winning ot the world’s greatest war,” they appeared to say. “ but at any rate you’re cheering. So carry on.” NOT “ OFFICIALLY CONFIRMED.” Not for hours did it seem to dawn upon the crowd that there was somehow a jarring note. The Sydney populace was “ celebrating ” with all its heart and soul—but where were the official proceedings, the speeches, the march of sailors and soldiers, the bands ? The crowds wedged themselves into Martin place and Moore Street in a dense mass, swaying expectantly before the model destroyer, and the recruiting stand, but neither civic nor official leaders appeared. A most awkward and embarrassing position had developed. The signing of the armistice had not been officially confirmed, and the authorities could not act on the unofficial Press message received from Paris via America. As the day wore on, it became apparent from the Press despatches that the first message reporting the cessation of hostilities and sending at least America and Australia into a delirium of joy, was completely inaccurate. The Germans had not yet agreed to the terms of the armistice. But who was to tell this to the joy-maddened crowds, surging over the city, convinced that the war was won and over? The people simply would not believe that the basis of their gladness was the error of a journalist in Europe. The news was told to-a little group in Martin place. “ Oh, well, if it isn’t true it soon will be. German}’ can’t last out. We’re not going to stop now,” said the joyful ones. One newspaper placed a bill on the front of its office, stating that' the armistice had not been signed. Crowds quickly gathered, and a great, doleful chorus of “ Aw-w-w ” arose. Then some enterprising youths pulled down the bill. Nothing' should mar Sydney’s glad day. “ On with the dance—let joy be unconfined. BUSINESS HOUSES CLOSE. So the celebrations continued all day. Business was completely disorganised. The merchant found that his employees had deserted in a body, and were cheering in the streets; he could not “ raise cits - ” telephone attendants were likewise in the streets; he could not get into c nnmunication with other merchants—they were in the streets; lie could do nothing with someone else’s mail—the postman had been in the streets, and had his deliveries thoroughly and gloriously mixed; he could not secure his usual lunch —the waitresses were out waving flags ; and so, being a. good and human merchant, he closed up his premises, and went out into the streets himself. Most of the big shops and business houses closed voluntarily—there was “ nothing ” doing, and the madly excited city called, irresistibly to the employees. Right up until dusk, the city was full oi a glad turmoil, and hour after hour the ferry and locomotive whistles crowed, and bellowed, and howled. Some drivers, by constant practice, became wonderfully expert in rendering “ cock-a-doodle-do.” The comparative absence drunkenness was most remarkableBecause the news was not official, the authorities made no immediate move to close the hotels, and all the hot, dusty morning the liquor bars were thronged. In the afternoon, a military order, by way of precau tion, closed the liquor bars. Sydney “ jubilated ” madly, but in the main it was sober jubilation.