ARMISTICE DAY THOUGHTS

Hokitika Guardian, 10 November 1928, Page 2

ARMISTICE DAY THOUGHTS

THE “UNKNOWN WAIJHIOK. (By Richard King from “Below the Surface.”)

1 I ike to think (if "luin-mu"' 'Unknown Warrior—iis a "simple . Tommy. Not beeanse those of the lusher ranks do not merit' such n phnaq of bunai as his. such lionfage, such universal honour as were uccoflicd to him. lint because among’."the rank and tile there are so many heroes . whose heroism goes unknown, and’ because unknow n. . . . unsung.' '' And, so I like to think that lie'is ‘jlist an’, ordinary Tommy—the representative of all those thousands, of ' liuihblo homes whose sacrifice was only dimly understood. For, the 'loss ol a son, a brother, or a,, husband, is to the tcij poor something, much more than the loss of a loved one; it, is the loss ol a bread-winnei;,. the loss of that stay in old age whose love and whose labour may keep his parents from tlial ever-living terror of the very poor—the workhouse.

And never before has the immensity of sacrifice among the heroic pom been honoured* never before has one of the humble unknown been-granted a resting place l :in thfit most sacred of all national * possessions—the Abbey. Greatness has been honoured by burial there. , : . ■.’ the greatness that belongs to faihe.- But there 1 is another greatness. . 'V-lthe greatness of sacrifice, of renunciation, of - daily courage, of all flint divine philosophy know’n as “playing-the game,'-’ which is but merely'Outlined in’ those words: “Greater love .hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.” It- is k greatness which, alas, is so selilonruHiuiiouicd in life. It comes with no flare ol trumpets; it lives not in ‘tlio-'difnelight of adulation, nor of high esteem, ft does not pass its days in palaces, nor consort with kings and princes. -It is what I will call the d;)ily heroism of the mean streets. . .' the courage, and self-sacrifice- of the-, people .of no importance.

And now this unsung greatness has. too, its shrine* ■ The. burial of this Unknown Warrior was surely ..the most truly national ceremony that the Eng-lish-speaking races, have ever known. For into the weU-nigh sacred soil of the Abbey was laid to rest, not the

greatest of the land, hut the humblest, the simplest the least known hero ol thorn all. And yet,'although we shall nbver, never know his name, we shall always know the ideal he stands for in our hearts. He stands for ail those unknown sacrifices, those daily acts kiitdiio.— . of sympathy and understanding, tliovc acts of heroism in bumble which, it there be <t 1101 l of Honour up ia Heaven, make sm-h heroes stand high upon that list. The poor have so few chances to nhtfiin renown. Their road lies in the dingy pathways -of ibis world. But now they. too. have their monument among the great ems ol tui- earth —a monument of their sell-sacrifice and loss in war. the vastness of which can never he • known. And’l. like to think ihat when the last of tine • sorrowing pilgrims left the Abbey on the day of the anniversary., a nil after the great doors were ( lu-eil and' barred, and when silence fell ill mu this world of ancient tombs a silence symbolical ol the eternal sleep of those who sleep within —the

spirits of the dead came forth to welcome him into Valhalla. I like to picture him there in his khaki uni-form'.-'standing at attention for that o’he great occasion, while those who had slept beneath the Abbey stones so' long came forth to give him welcome. For they, being great, too, would know that there has always been a, greatness which lias never received its-reward. nor sought, one. nor desired•■ one. And now. at last, there has come among them one who. even more than they, had every right to be there. ■ And T like to think that they welcome him into \ alhalla with all the honour it was theirs to show. T like even to think that the ceremony was somewhat elaborate, even pompous,. befitting the occasion. And then 'I like to think Hint, after it- was all over, one received him into the daily imtimaey ol their spirit lives. ;

1 like to think of him in the night, when the roar of Uondoii is siilledsitting:, for example, side by side with King Henry V.. whose body was also brought from France, each one <omparing notes with the other, each one lighting- his battles over again. And I hope he has found that Queen Elizabeth is something ot an “old sport’’ the “First of the Flappers’’—

and that these old kings and queens are not, nearly so terrifying as he had imagined, hut more akin to those friends of his who. when they wish to call a spade a spade, do not hesitate to do so. And then I like to think that some time in every day

say at the fall of twilight, his spirit flies back again, to that humble home which, “out there” seemed a palace j to him. just because it was iiis home, j And I like to fancy that at the j hour of “good nighi lie. too. is not ; forgotten. I like to think thesi j tilings. Because I like 10 Hunk that j the dead sleep not and are not strang- j e as to each other. I like to think o' j tie* life* hereafter as a life without | awhilion—a life wher** only love am j friendship and good iellov.-hip make j the world go f’und. And thinking j thus. I seem to imagine that the deaf | are not dead qlter all. i hey have gone on a long journey and journeys j pod, thev sav, in level's meeting. ;