BURIAL OF FLYING VICTIMS

Taranaki Daily News, 15 November 1920, Page 5

BURIAL OF FLYING VICTIMS

The passing of the dead in a hushed te&n filled with sorrow made yesterday, afternoon 1» New Plymouth a period of profound solemnity, when the crowd* filling - the streets (poke the people'! grief, and the air was filled with a sombre magnificence. It wag the last scene in a drama which "has shown that a whole town can mourn its dead; it was the closing phase in two useful lives, so rich in promise—oil# seeking to better the lot of his fellow-townsmen, and the other inspired by a viafbn of a m6ys wonderful world—and a vast crowd assembled to pay eloquent' tribute and respect. It was the burial hour of the late Mr. James Clarke, the Mayor of New Plymouth, and the late Captain ■ Bichard Russell, DJ? .C., Croix de Guerre, a gallant soldier, victims of the flying tragedy on Thursday afternppn. Outwardly all thoughts were for these two dead Ben, but there lingered the memory of another promising life, and the crowd remembered the private biitial, is all its simple impressiveness, of the prevoui day, when Miss Kathleen Waroock, the third victim of the disaster, was laid to rest, unaccompanied by outward mtnifestetions of grief, but deep is the thoughts of a saddened people. ; A SILENT CROWD. A grey day—cold and showery—darkened and stilled the air, so that any Mwd seemed strangely distant, and half-misted flags hung limp. Before mid-day people moved towards the rpute of the funerals, as a crowd uninspired, and their feelings deeply charged with grief. The funerals were to come from the same part of the town —Gaptain Russell's cortege first from tW hospital, and then Mr. Clarke's from bis late home in Wallace Plate—so that they would pass down Dawson Street into Powderham Street, and then turn into Devon Btr«et, slowly winding along the straight, grey roadway, unci! they tutped into Watson Street, thence to pass under the .tall shaded pines to the still Te/Baiw cemetery. White sutny hundreds quietly made their way' to the respective assembling places, some to join in the military funeral accorded to Captain Russell and others to follow the civic funeral of the late Mayor, hundreds more gathered to line the long route, which was soon bor&fed by scores of sorrowing people —dot a' CTOwd, but rather & congregation. Ob Saturday Devon Street was filled with busy folk marketing, but yuetarday afternoon the familiar roadway was te-peopled by a quiet, sombrely dressed crowd. Everything was changed. lh* motky work-a-diy garb was replaced by simjple mourning, and the street was wrapped in a profound stillnets, so that the steady trot of a horse in a back street had the ring which only the (lead of night gives to similar sounds, and the crowd stood strangely •ilent a&the noise slowly died away. MILITARIST TRIBUTE. .Yesently the air wa9 filled with tlie mournful music of the band, still out of sight.' Then through the strains of the soft music the muffled drum "rolls in the solemn Tequiem of the dead," and the crowd—long silent and waiting—now sways as the people peer towards the Md of the street to catch a glimpse of the coming procession, while for a moment a wave of hushed voices ripples Along the waiting lines. Now the deep roll of the drum mingles through the ■oft tones of sacred music as the head of the column comeß slowly over the rise, and the crowd becomes stilled to iatease quietness, so that the wheels of tie gun carriage provide the dominant Sound, and the myriad feet in the alow and silent column follow the slow rytbm of the band's march.' Then the playfoig of the band stops, and it is only the grinding wheels and a steady tramp 1 that is beard. Drawn out in two single flies 65 returned soldiers, all in uniform and with arms reversed, head the cortege. Then the simple tribute to an honored dead soldier—a gun carriage drawn by four horses, and on the gun carriage the coffin, Hid through a riot <rf beautiful flowers, as wreath intertwines wreath, splashes of color show where the Union Jack covers the coffin. A cab following immediately behind the gun carriage Is filed with wreaths, many qjrmbolic of the life of the dead airman, •nd many done in red, white, and blue Itbbon*. | AIRMEN AS BEARERS. ' v»i the unavoidable absence of the Mlatives of the late Captain Russell the Aief" mourners were:—Mr. Vivian C. Walsh and Pilot G. Goring (representing the Hew Zealand Flying School), tfa. Wally Boss (Captain Russell's me•anic), and Mr E. Wilson, an intimate friend of the deceased. The gathering of tfrmea from all parts of New Zealand 16 pay tribute to the late pilot Was anique, and ail the bearers were exttembers of the Royal Flying Corps. Captain L. M. Isitt (in charge of the Government machines) and Captain T. M. Wilkes fAir Board) jointly represented the Government, and the others of tße party were: Lieutenants J. Coatee, H. Melville, 0. Warnock, C. Harding, and L.. 3. Tennent (all of IVanganni), Lieutenants Hughes and Wildsmith (Levin), and Captains Eliot King and J. Warnock and Lieutenant A. fennlng* (New Plymouth). In the *!mple khaki uniform of the R.F.C., reieved ,hv the light blue of the same •orpp. this little group of comrades ,eeply *">wb»d' th« AplMkaM.

TWO IMPRESSIVE FUNERALS THOUSANDS PAY FINAL TRIBUTE

Next in the procession was a gather- [ ing of twenty-four- Expeditionary Force officers representative of all branches of [ the sefvice, R.F.C., Infantry, Mounteds, 1 Artillery, and A.S.O. Captain F. Hudson, N.Z. Staff Corps, Commander No. 8 (Taranaki) Group, represented the Defence Department, and also (in the unavoidable absence of Lieut-Colonel Cox) the XI Regiment (Taranaki Rifles). Among private soldiers in uniform the Australian forces were represented, and then followed ex-officers and men of the N.Z.E.F, in mufti, making up the largest muster of returned soldiers—from all parts of Taranaki—that has ever assembled in the province. In addition there were about 350 cadets and territorials on parade, and the cortege was also augmented by squads of Veterans, Legion of Frontiersmen, Taranaki Fire Brigadesmen, and troops of Boy Scouts. The lengthy following of mourners can truly be regarded as an impressive tribute to the memory of the dead airman, unknown but to a few in the province, but whose demise was felt in the sense of a personal loss by many hundreds.

THE MAYOR'S CORTEGE. But a brief interval intervenes after .the passing of the airman's cortege ere the funeral of the late Mayor, leaving the residence at Wallace Place, wound slowly along Dawson Street. Robbed of the sombre picturesqueness of a military funeral, its simplicity epitomised a citizens' tribute. Every prominent citizen and representatives of every public institution of New Plymouth, with many visitors representing all parts of Taranaki, made up a lengthy cortege, which was at once a wonderful civic tribute—a touching recognition of the passing of a man highly esteemed. Reverently baring their heads, the citizens who lined the side-walks all along the route showed their deep respect, and the strains of the funeral march played by the band ahead with the airman's cortege floated bach and mingled with the steady roll of Ac vehicles, linking the two funerals together. The bearers who walked beside the hearse were personal friends of the. deceased, comprising Messrs R. L. Parkin, W. H. Cook, James McLeod, T. C. List, J. C. Nicholson, A. L. Humphries, R. H. George, G. H. Saunders, L. A. Nolan, and D. Cameron.

The hearse was followed by vehicles carrying large numbers of floral tributes to the memory of the town's chief citizen, and the wreaths were representative of the people of the province who mourned a public-spirited man. In attendance aa chief mourners were the following: Messrs Goodley, Dunedin, brother-in-law; L. Goodley, nephew; Goodley, Wellington, nephew; A. Torrance, Dunedin, brother-in-law; R. Isaacs, Christchurch, brother-in-law; W. Everest, Hamilton, brother-in-law; N. G. Packard, Wellington, brother-in-law; E. R. Gilmour, New Plymouth, the late Mr. Clarke's business partner; and Mr. W. A. Ballantyne, New Plymouth. A long line of cars followed, conveying members of local bodies and public men from all parts of Taranaki. Among those in attendance were the Hon. W. F. Carncross, M.L.C. (Speaker of the Legislative Council), Messrs S. G. Smith, M.P., W. T. Jennings, M.P., R. Masters, M.P., and members of the New Plymouth Borough Council. Local bodies represented included the Hawera, Stratford, Eltham, Inglewood, and Waitara Borough Councils, the New Plymouth Harbor Board, the Taranaki, Eltham, Stratford, and Waimate West County Councils, the Taranaki Hospital Board, Chamber of Commerce, Fire Board, Education Board, combined School Committees, High School and Technical School Boards, TaTanaki War Relief Association, Repatriation Board, Employers' Association, Taranaki Workers' Council, Ratepayers' Association, Pukekura and Western PaTk Boards, Ngamotu and East End Committees, New Plymouth Savings Bank, Building Society, and the Land Agents' Association. Pedestrians were headed by the New Plymouth tramwaymen, and following the general public there was a further line of cars. The combined corteges took about a quarter of an hour to pass one point.

ENTERING THE CEMETERY. The next stage was the cemetery, the dosing scene in a tragic journey. Here was the soft touch of flowers, of music, and the even softer hush of the waiting crowds as the processions passed through the gates, giving an atmosphere that only sorrow in common can produce. Right through the streets one felt this, but it is this scene in the cemetery which will live in memory longest. It was a happy inspiration to choose a place on a hilltop as the resting-places of those who had been together flung through that black atrium of death we all must pass. Above, the grey and dreary cjouds. In the distance the equally leaden sea. Nearer, the town one of the dead had served, and from the side of his grave, right down through the beautiful grounds of the cemetery, the crowds of citizens who in one spirit of sympathy were saying farewell. Out of the hush arose the sound of the clergy reciting the burial service, than which those of Sny or of no creed will agree that for noble rhythm there exists nothing finer in the English language. The military farewell to the soldier left sleeping, and then, with a last look at the resting-places, back to the workaday world, where Bome must take up the work the dead had left incomplete. Entering the cemetery the gun carriage, and later the hearse, passed through amid the strains of ''music, ennobling and impressive, played by the band. The graves of the two deceased were situated in close proximity to each other at the southern boundary, on a hill overlooking the calm peacefulness of Te Hanui. Jrmiditffte ttoim *H?

grave of the late airman stood the compact body of the firing party, whoso drab khaki contrasted with the green background of the foliage of the surrounding. A cordon formed by the High School boys helped to regulate the great crowd which gathered here, and then a stillness pervaded all as the burial services were read, the officiating clergymen being the Revs. F. G. Harvie and 0, Blundell. "THE LAST POST." As the service progresses a sudden burst of rain beats on the uncovered heads of the mourners, and then ceases with equal abruptness. It deepens the greyness of it all. The body of the late Mayor is gently lowered to its last resting place, and a few yards further away Captain Russell's remains are lowered to the grave. Then the firing party receive their order, and three ■ sharp volleys rent the air. With bayonets fixed the sqiui presents arms, and then the plaintive notes of "The Last Post" with the long drawn out call and the final note of hope goes out through the living world as a last message to those who have gone. Then "The Garland of Flowers," with all its pathos in rich music, is played by the band, and the vast congregation stand in tense silence, reverently bowed in silent thoughts till the last touching strains close the scene.