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Few New Zealand families have not been touched by loss of life, or injury in wars like that here at Gallipoli - a place so remote, so exotic that many would not have heard of it before the shells rained down on a generation of young men seeking adventure in a far off land. Gallipoli scarred our hearts and caused immense grief.
For a country of its size – just over 1 million in 1914 – New Zealand’s contribution to World War 1 was massive.
Nearly 20 per cent of the eligible manpower was recruited. One hundred thousand men were sent overseas – of those 18,000 were killed and more than 41,000 wounded. Of the British countries, only the UK’s proportion was higher.
In cities, towns and villages across the country, war memorials went up to list those killed. Some small communities lost their entire crop of young manhood, some families all their sons.
As one historian noted, the next generation did not need to be told that the angel of death had passed over the land: they had heard the beating of its wings.
ANZAC Day, marking the anniversary of that first Australian and New Zealand landing on the Gallipoli Peninsula at dawn 91 years ago today, was the occasion that both countries chose to commemorate all their dead from the war – and subsequently all wars.
New Zealand and Australian communities all over the world will be gathering on this day.
100 years ago, New Zealanders knew little of Turkey and Turkey knew little about New Zealand.
Then came what was arguably the most traumatic event in the history of my country. The ANZACs were transported to Lemnos in the Aegean, and from there to Gallipoli for a major assault on the Dardanelles, the Hellespont of the ancient world.
This operation, instigated in large part by British First Lord of the Admiralty Winston Churchill, was designed to open the strait to the British and French navies to allow an attack on Constantinople and relieve Turkish military pressure on Russia.
From the outset, the ANZAC part of the Gallipoli landings went terribly wrong. While British troops landed at Cape Helles, the ANZACs began landing three kilometres north of the planned landing-place where the terrain was much less forbidding. The Australians went ashore first, followed later in the morning by the New Zealanders, at what came to be called ANZAC Cove.
As the ANZACs clambered up these steep slopes above the cove and moved inland, they encountered troops of the Turkish Army’s 19th Division commanded by Mustafa Kemal Bey, later known as Kemal Ataturk, founder and father of the post-war Turkish Republic.
The combination of rugged terrain and determined defenders proved insurmountable. The Australians and New Zealanders were halted and driven back. Their losses were high – one in five of the 3,000 New Zealanders who landed that day became casualties.
By the end of the day the ANZACs were hemmed into a tiny area. As the weeks went by, conditions deteriorated until they were as close to hell as men could conceive.
The cost to New Zealand was 2721 dead and 4752 wounded out of a total of 8450 men – a staggering 88 per cent. The remains of those killed were left here; two-thirds were either never found or remained unidentified.
It is those men that the previous speaker was talking of when he quoted Ataturk’s famous words to the Mothers of men left lying side-by-side, dead.
Leadership, compassion and generosity such as that articulated by Ataturk to what were once the enemy has inspired three generations of New Zealanders and Turkish. It has sparked the pilgrimage by thousands of New Zealanders and Australians, young and old, who are here today as in previous years to honour our Gallipoli dead.
More and more Turkish make the trip to New Zealand and Australia to renew acquaintances and see for themselves the land where those they saw as invaders came from.
The relationship between NZ and Turkey runs deeper than honouring our dead, but there is little doubt in my mind that the foundations for an enduring relationship were laid here on this peninsula where so many died.
As we gather today, it is instructive to let our minds drift back to those dreadful scenes as wartime enemies faced each other.
Who would have thought that we could put that behind us and embrace one another in friendship, respect and admiration. This must provide some hope for men and women engaged in today’s wars and gives the lie to the claim by some that ‘once an enemy, always an enemy’.
Gallipoli had a seminal effect on the development of our character as a people. It is impossible for any one of us to view these events without pride and painful sympathy.
Today we pray that our nation, our soldiers and our future generations will be spared the terrible fate of those New Zealanders who died for us and for our country. It is a day when we think of and thank a new generation of young men and women who serve our country around the world. We remember not only those who died, but also their friends and comrades, their families, their sons and daughters, their mothers and fathers.
And today we renew our commitment to protecting and promoting peace at home and in those places around the world where we work to help achieve that elusive dream.
As the successors and descendants of the soldiers who fought here, it is our responsibility and privilege to reflect on their service and sacrifice.
We, who benefit from their selfless acts of courage in a bitter, bloody and tragic campaign, will not forget their sacrifice.
We will remember them.
