Global IssuesInternational OrganisationsAfricaAsia NorthAsia South and SoutheastAustraliaEuropeLatin AmericaMiddle EastAnzacMiddle East VisitNorth AmericaPacific
Start writing the country or territory name in the box. Typing more letters narrows the search. Click "go" or hit "Enter" to go to the information paper on the country or territory.
(We don't have information papers on all countries and territories.)
Although we have tried to use plain English content on the site, you may come across specialist terms and acronyms. Find out what they mean in our glossary of terms.
If you come across a term that isn't included in the Glossary please send us an email.
Kia Ora, Hosgeldiniz, Welcome
Welcome to the New Zealand memorial service.
Welcome to our guests, from near and some from very far away. The Peninsula has not seen this many people from New Zealand and Australia since 1915.
We are now at the last stage in the commemorations. We have followed the ANZAC soldiers of 1915, from the beaches of ANZAC Cove; up to these heights here, from where we can see – and the ANZACs would have glimpsed, however briefly – the narrows of the Dardanelles in the distance.
This place – Chunuk Bair to the ANZACs; Jonk Bayra to the Turkish defenders – this place, more than any other on the Peninsula, evokes for New Zealanders an emotional response. It most clearly represents the “New Zealand” part of ANZAC. It was here, in the unbearable heat of summer, that the New Zealand regiments advanced in August 1915.
The message on the base of the memorial reads;
“in honour of the soldiers of the New Zealand Expeditionary Force, 8 August 1915. From the uttermost ends of the earth”.
The stone records the names of the 852 New Zealand dead who fell during the campaign and who have no known graves. Of the 10 graves at this site, one was Martin Persson, aged just 17 years.
Last August, a group of kiwi colleagues from our Embassy in Beijing, retraced the advance of those New Zealand troops. Of that experience, they wrote: “looking at the terrain and the conditions, we had to ask what kept the New Zealanders going. What gave them the courage to stand up in the face of a daily torrent of fire that meant certain death. Was it love for King and Empire? Was it the officers who led them? Was it raw courage? What was it? The only thing that was real and sustaining on the hills and beaches of Gallipoli was their mates. They were their source of life in the face of death, strength when they had none left and courage when it was all used up. If you hadn’t experienced what they experienced, then you would never understand – as we will never truly understand”.
I think it is a chilling statistic that more than one third of all New Zealand men of military age experienced the hell of the battlefields in World War One. Historian O E Burton put it well when he said that “somewhere between the bloody ridge of Chunuk Bair in August 1915 and the black swamp of Passchendaele in October 1917, New Zealand quite defiantly found individuality and nationality”.
Turkey found it too – as did our Australian mates – and somewhere amongst the broken and twisted bodies in the trenches, the blood and the anguish and the heroism – a bond of deep respect and friendship emerged between former foes. These bonds of friendship have endured to this day. Mustafa Kemal Ataturk’s words of reconciliation are inspiring indeed.
In this context, let me record New Zealand’s deep appreciation for the contribution of the Turkish Government – both in the establishment and maintenance of this wonderful peace park, and for the cooperation and support in holding our ANZAC Day commemorations. Your assistance is truly appreciated.
ANZAC Day will continue to have a powerful symbolism in terms of the national identity of our countries. But the real lesson of Gallipoli lies deeper – as we will shortly pledge, we will remember them.
We do not come together to celebrate or to glorify war,
but to remember, lest we forget.
Thank you
