END OF THE WAR.

Taranaki Daily News, 3 January 1919, Page 6

END OF THE WAR.

HOW. THE NEWS WAS RECEIVED IN LON DON. A NEW PLYMOUTH LA** } SIONS. The following interesting letter was writcn to his parents by a New Ply? mouth lad, who was wounded in France and was convalescing in England:— Well here I am again at Hornclmrch recuperating after the great events of the past few glorious, happy, epochmaking days—days of congratulation, joy, and thanksgiving, when feelings, long restrained, and emotions, almost forgotten, were given dominion over the thoughts and actions of men, and the masses were free to rejoice in the I greatest victory the world has ever seen. Yes, they were a happy, contented crowd who poured from store and tenement to throng the banner-laden streets of London.

A stranger, viewing this vast sea of exsited faces, could not tout realise how great had been the anxiety, how weary the waiting, how longed for .this day of days that has left ua more than conquerors. Joy, hope, anticipation were writ in unmistakable characters oil the countenances of the passers-by. The realisation of what was to be chased away, the shadow of what had been leaving many a plain face beautiful, many a beautiful face angelic. Yet, here and there, blended with a universal gladness one caught ti reflection of intense longing, a sadness which only the soothing influence of time could hope to dispel These arc they who look into the future and see only the dear face of some loved one never to return; sons, brothers, lovers, cousins, fathers even Who have given their lives, who have paid the greatest price, who have sacrificed all, but who can never catch an earthly glimpse of this their great reI ward. Verily their path to duty was | their way to glory. And now you are wondering how it is that 1 have turned philosopher and know all this. Well the answer is obvious. I was there, I saw, I heard, I mingled with this mighty concourse and rejoiced with them. But let me explain. From Dartford hospital, whereof I have told you before, I was discharged on Nov. 11th, the day an armistice was or was not to be signed. Owing to going a round-about route to drop another patient our ambulance arrived in London just a few minutes before eleven o'clock, when the momentous news was to be made known to the world. On all sides as we drove along people were gathered on doorstep or clustering window. Everywhere was an air of subdued impatience, a restraint that one could almost feel. I've known the same atmosphere to exist during a drawn game when a back gets away for a sure try if—and here is where the spectators hold their breath—if he can pass the last man waiting a dozen yards off. Slowly the minutes ticked by The tention grew almost unbearable. London has scarce been so silent in day time before. Nearer and nearer drew the hour. Walking men commenced to run. Others followed. Doors and windows were forsaken and men and women flocked into the street, round Mansion House, the Bank and other business centres all work was suspended and the thoroughfares became packed with the same curiously silent though eagerly expectant throng. The first news to reach the people came through the newspaper boys who yelled their glorious tidings, from mouth to mouth it was passed on, and cheer after cheer burst forth echoed again and again from all over the city. Then it seemed to me everybody went mad. Flags appeared by magic, banners were run out, no home, however humble, but had its national emblem displayed somewhere. Preparations must have been made days before and to those who had lacked confidence opportunity was thrust into their hands toy the dozens and dozens of flag vendors who seemingly sprung from nowhere and now stood at every corner. The excitement was infectious. Our driver forgot that his time belonged to his employers and went mad. along with the rest. For fully two hours we cruised round London from the East over to the West and back again a dift'erent Toute. Down past Hyde Park the traffic was thickening. Picadilly was chock-a-block. How our reckless driver —he was a First Hundred Thousand man—ever got through is more than I can tell. Perhaps a special Providence watched over London that day; certainly we escaped accidents by the nearest margin. Leicester Square was impassable, hut we came through and continued on dawn to Trafalgar Square. Here even our mad "shuuver" paused to take counsel. No one could have coaxed a four-wheeled vehicle through there, so wo flew off to his hospital to stable our fiery chariot. And there, been waiting nearly three hours, stood a. sergeant from Horn - church sent thither to escort me home as is the custom when transferring from one hospital to another. Ho was a decent sergeant and almost ibrokc, so I took him under my wing and provided meat and drink at a nearby restaurant, after which all was well again. We smoked round the streets awhile, and then picked our way to the station 11s time was getting late and so I came Iv'xk to Hornclmrch.