Adventures in Paradise Volume 2 #27

Kia ora! Our excellent adventure continues with some thoughts on appreciating the sacrifices of others. This is the blog that I had designs on posting last week, but we were very busy and rather than quickly tossing off my weekly message, I decided to wait until I could give this subject the attention and respect that I believe it deserves. As I have been pondering on how best to relate the events of two weeks ago, my father and his wartime sacrifices has been in the forefront of my thoughts. Perhaps someone you know may elicit the same response. For our adopted country it has been a month of memories centering on courage, loss and lessons learned.

April 25 marks the commemoration of Anzak day. This year was the one- hundredth anniversary of the battle of Gallipoli. Combined Australian and New Zealand forces (hence the acronym Anzac) suffered greatly as they fought against the Ottoman Empire during the first- world war. Originally this day was intended to honor those gallant men who, beginning on April 25^th, 1915, while heavily outnumbered, continued to behave heroically in the face of staggering losses. In later years, this day of remembrance was expanded to include all Australians and New Zealanders who served and died in all wars, conflicts, and peacekeeping operations. The focus is to remember and appreciate the contributions and suffering of all those who have served.

While I am aware that we in the United States, have opportunities to remember and reverence our service members, I will admit to being totally in awe of the scope and breadth of the Anzak ceremonies. In almost every community in New Zealand, plans were laid for day-long observances. We were aware that Australia’s plans were moving along in the same direction, while in Gallipoli, the town was bracing for a surge of visitors and dignitaries that would most probably double its population. Many veterans and their families booked passage on cruise ships which would sit off the coast so that those on board could view the services from the decks. Under the circumstances, it would be difficult not to become caught up in the emotions that were permeating the atmosphere. For days before the actual date, it seemed that the entire population of Gisborne was wearing the red poppy that stands as a symbol for all war dead. It was a powerful visual reminder of the ultimate sacrifice made by so many in the face of oppression.

In an interesting side note, the war memorial honoring the soldiers who lost their lives at Gallipoli, was severely damaged by the earthquake of 2007.  The nine-foot statue of a soldier standing at rest which had stood on top of the cenotaph, rotated during the tremors and when the ground stopped moving, citizens were amazed to see that the soldier was no longer facing the river. He was now gazing across the harbor at Kaiti Hill! Because of the concern that he might actually topple from his perch, the serviceman was removed during repairs and was only returned to his original position a few days before Anzak day.

In the days and weeks before the commemoration, we learned much more than most of us wanted to know about the hell that is war. Newspapers were filled with interviews and old clippings from men and women who had seen first-hand what it was like to live in muddy trenches and fox holes. On TV, there was endless jumpy footage of actual conditions during the siege. The lack of sanitation, disgusting food, and sickness that ran rampant was displayed in horrifying detail. For the first time, I realized that being shot while in combat was often considered a blessing when compared to the spectre of living in inhumane conditions for days and weeks at a time. The specifics of the conditions that these heroes endured is beyond description, and now , I have gained insight into what my father, serving in the Pacific Theater in World War Two, must have suffered through as well. I had a clearer sense of why so many have said so little about their experiences in combat. I can now better understand why my father changed the subject when I would question him about his “adventures” during the war. As a young person, I thought that there was a tinge of romance associated with a handsome soldier in a crisp uniform going off to a war in a foreign land. I now know better.

April 25^{th  2015}  was a solemn day. There were no fireworks, no floats and no marching bands, although there were bagpipers. The predawn parade consisted of men in wheelchairs and other elderly participants who proudly wore their service uniforms. There were children and grandchildren of deceased soldiers who also proudly wore the medals that had often been awarded posthumously to family members. Many citizens were carrying framed photos of loved ones pictured in uniform and nurses from the local hospital marched in unison while wearing the traditional red cape of a service nurse. In the dark, the parade followed by the onlookers ,walked silently across the bridge towards the war memorial cenotaph where prayers, a flag-raising ceremony and a rededication of the momument took place. The Australian and New Zealand national anthems were sung and at the end, we all quietly and I believe, thoughtfully, strolled slowly back across the bridge to face a day of activities all centered around remembering.

I am grateful for the opportunity to have experienced Anzak day with our new friends in Gisborne. We were invited to participate in other observances during the day and we are so grateful for the opportunity to learn and gain greater understanding. The world becomes a much smaller place when you gain an appreciation for the sacrifices of others and when you begin to understand what that ultimate sacrifice meant to the loved ones left at home. I am truly grateful and humbled by what I have learned and experienced here and I won’t forget.

As always, we are happy and trying to work hard. We appreciate the many forms of sacrifice that we see from the people in our lives. We are grateful for the examples that you are to us and we will remember.

Love, Ward and Susan   Elder and Sister Belliston, serving in Gisborne, New Zealand

 

Hundreds  gathered in the predawn darkness to be part of the Anzak ceremony and rededication of the cenotaph at the marina. It was reverent and respectful.

 

 

Local artists created the ceramic poppies that adorned the lawn around the monument. No two were exactly alike, which referenced just how differently and individually people had suffered. 

 

After the ceremony, we all walked quietly back across the bridge as we anticipated what the rest of the day held in store for us.

 

A tribal community meeting place is called a Marae. The building on the right is considered sacred ground and one must be invited to enter by a member of the tribe. Special ceremonies as well as funerals are held here.  Notice that the carvings are very reminiscent of American Indian totem designs. This is the Muriwai Marae and we were honored to be invited to participate.

Veterans and family members of servicemen stand at attention before their march onto the Marae. The commander at left is giving last minute marching orders. As each of these participants entered the Marae grounds, they were given a wreath to lay at a special place inside the building.  

 

 

This distinguished group were the first to be invited onto the Marae. Inside the afternoon passed as touching stories and tributes were shared.

 

 

Eventually we were invited to enter as well and I would not have missed the experience for the world.

 

 

This is an Anzak cookie. It was not love at first taste for me until I was educated on the reason it was invented. Men were starving and missing home at the same time. Local women started baking a "biscuit" that was nutritious and almost indestructible and seemed to stay semi-fresh forever. These cookies have become a tradition in New Zealand and have been part of care packages sent to service personnel since the first-world war. The recipe includes oats, coconut, nuts and butter. Knowing how welcome this cookie would have been to an Australian or Kiwi who was hungry and missing home, I suddenly developed an appreciation for them and I now consider them quite delicious. 

 

The "Anzak" soldier is now standing at rest back where he belongs.

 

And once again he is facing the Gisborne harbor. Welcome home!