ANZAC DAY IN LONDON.

Taihape Daily Times, Volume 8, Issue 143, 20 June 1916, Page 5

ANZAC DAY IN LONDON.

GALLIPOLI HEROES AT THE ABBEY.. HISTORIC SCENE. • Ni l>] > •-■SSI VE TR! BCTE BY KING AND PEOPLE. , L: y cs now unite in praise and toaiikrgiv.iig for those our brothers who oicfi at Gallipoli for their King' : ' nr ‘ J’-mpiro. m the high cause of I’uvnlom and Honour . . All these loiignt most valiantly. Their deeds will be remembered evermore. Their memorm! is already inscribed in men s imarts. In future ages the sous of our Empire will seek .to emuhue Ime imperishable lenown of their daring and bravery. V, o are resolved that, by God s gracious favour, our brothers shall not have laid down their lives in vain The spirit of "Anzac Day,” the anniI’crsary of “The Glorious Twcntvbiftli. seemed finely caught in these words of Dr TlyJc. Dean of Westminster, spoken from tite steps of the Abbey sanctuary. The King and Queen were there, so also were Lord Kitchener, Sir Tan Hamilton, Sir George Birdwood, and many famous civilians: but, best of all, the men themselves were there—the ‘‘ lighters,'’ as they like to be called. Looking down the great length of the Abbey from t..e triforium (above and beyond the alias) —down upon the bowed heads of the King and Queen, upon the sea of brown figures that filled every corner, and on to the white light of the open west door —I gave thanks for tiiose who, havingfought most valiantly,” had lived and not died. It had been an inspiring thing to get into touch with their tremendous forces of vitality during the rather boisterous days of training in Egypt. Then from a peak in Imbros, this day 12 months ago. I had watched the fearful struggle on the shores of the Peninsula, for 24 hours of thunder and lightning. And now again 1 looked down from - distance, but only on a remnant. Cairo. Gallipoli, the Abbey—and the Valley of the Shadow of Death in between! HEROIC 2.000.

All of them—and there were over two thousand—had been wounded or invalided through sickness, hut a number will be able to fight again. The assembly of tiio=e who can never hoj>e to do so would have been a heartbreaking business but for the cheerfulness of the men themselves. They came into the Abbey through the cloisters, some carried, some led. some limping on crutches. Some were maimed and twisted beyond hope of an easy life. Just a few were blind, and they were giu-n special seats near the King. The man who is most honeuicd now is the man r. 1 1 0 has given meet. Certainly there was no one man in all that ero»vd of poor damaged humanity that aid not lock supremely happy. So the brave living slowly filled Sue Valhalla of tlve great dead. Six-•nd-twentv Kings and Queens of England whose dust lies there, surely welcomed them. Prince Rupert and General Mo'ii. Blake and Cloudesley Shovel, Chatham and Fox, Chaucer, Spencer, Tennyson —what a. crowd of figaters and statesmen and singers of the Motherland to greet the Motherland’s sons; The “boys" were a little tut aw* Jbv such fine company. A Gothic Cathedral with history in every iton* is much more formidable to some men than a mountain slope with hostile bayonets along the ridge. THE KING S ARRIVAL. They waited in perfect silence for more than half an hour before there were any individually notable arrivals. Then Lord Kitchener took his scat in one of the stalls, with Mr Bonar Law beside him. Mr Asquith could not come, owing to the political situation, but Mrs Asquith and Master Anthony Asquith were both present. There was a little flutter of whispered comment, as the romantically striking figure of Sir lan Hamilton passed up the aisle. After him came Lord Dudley, Lord Denman, Lord Plunket, Lord Islington, and the Lord Mayor of Loudon.

It was a few minutes before halfpast eleven when the people’s cheering, flooding in through the west door, announced the King’s arrival. Ihe Anzacs stood at attention, every eye proud and alert. First came the Queen, attended by Bishop Boyd-Carpenter, in a magn ficent cope of crimson and gold. She was shown to a seat in the “sacrarium” (or outer sanctuary.) The King, liard’y distinguishable from his khaki-clad troops on either hand, followed at a little distance, accompanied by the Dean (Dr Ryle), who was vested in a cope that might also well hi- described as khaki-coloured.

King and Queen stood side by side, not facing the altar, a<? is generally the case on such occasions at St. Raid’s but -looking north, the Queen being nearest to the troops. THE SERVICE. The service began at once with the singing of Bishop Walsham How’s noble hymn “For all the saints,'’ the men singing in unison And when the strife is fierce, the warfare long, Steals on the ear the distant triumphsong, And hearts arc bravo again, and arms are strong. Alleluia! After the anthem (Wesley’s “Ascribe unto the Lord, O ye kindreds of the people”) came the most striking part of the exceedingly simple service. Advancing to the sacrarium steps, the Dean read in a strong, level voice that must have been well heard even in the far corners of the building, the exhortation that stands at the head of this column, adding also the names of the particular troops, both Australian and New Zealand, that took part in the landing at Anzac Bay. . Then lie recited these three texts: “Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.” “The eternal God is thy dwellingplace, and underneath are the everlasting arms.” “Thou wilt' keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on Thee, because he trusteth in thee.” The doxology was sung with full-throat, ed fervour; there were some prayers, and the service closed .with the singing of Kipling’s “Recessional” — “Lest wo forget, lest wo forget.” But tho notes that lingered longest in the ear wore those of “The Last Post,” by the buglers who had sounded it on tho slopes of Gaba Tone. u ... . who died . . . in the high, cause of Freedom and Honour.” Amen. HUGH MARTIN,