Texts of the Movements
1. Memories of Gallipoli: (Text: from ANZAC – The Legend by Mike Subritzky, retired
professional soldier)
The text tells a story that begins retrospectively in this first movement by remembering the
horror that was Gallipoli.
I can still hear cannon firing
in the distance of my mind
and the sound of battle
high on Chunuk Bair
and the fading calls for ‘Mother’
from the dying wounded men:
and the dead on Lone Pine ridge
and Sari Bair
2. They Came from Alexandra: (Text: Mike Subritzky.)
The narrative moves back in time with an extract from the same poem (ANZAC – The Legend)
that describes the mustering of troops from regional centres in New Zealand.
They came from Alexandra
And gold towns on the coast
while others worked the gumfields in the North
the scowman and the drover
the farmer and the clerk
each signed up for a shilling and a war.
3. Raising Recruits: This anonymous poem was written in a young Hawera woman’s
autograph book by a New Zealand soldier leaving for the front in 1914. It reflects the optimism
typical of early WWI poetry – the naivety of the young soldiers and their fervent belief in the
cause.
Phillis, your method of raising recruits
smacks of the press-gang a trifle
Here I am wearing impossible boots
And marching about with a rifle
Because you have said
We can never be wed
Until I am carried home, wounded or dead
Now I’ve a number instead of a name
The cut of my clothes is atrocious
Daily I’m drilled until aching and lame
By officers young and precocious
Who force me to lie
On my tummy to try
And shoot an imaginary bull in the eye.
Please do not think I’m unwilling to go
I’ve no intention of quitting;
But Phillis, there’s one thing I really must know.
For whom is that muffler you’re knitting?
I don’t care a jot
If by Germans I’m shot;
But if that is for me
I’ll desert on the spot!
4. For the Empire: This anonymous poem was also found in Maggie Dean Alexander’s
autograph book. It was signed by F C Dunlop – Trooper – 9th Reinforcements.
Thus speaks the man:
“I’ll give my life, it is the least I can,
and count it not a hardship so to do
But rather reckon it a privilege
That I am able to”.
Thus speaks the man
Thus speaks the girl:
“Lo! I shall send against the kultured churl
The man I love, that England may be free.
Sad I’ll wait and pray that he be brought
In safety back to me.” So speaks the girl.
So speaks the girl.
Thus say we all:
“And ever when we hear old England’s call,
We’ll rally round the flag & fight full well
And for the Empire give the best we can
Our fiendish foes to quell”.
Thus say we all.
5a. They Sailed Away at Dawn: (Text: from Mike Subritzky’s ANZAC – The Legend)
They were kitted out in Trentham Camp
and sailed away at dawn
on HM Transports bound for morning tide.
Then, they came ashore in April at a place called ANZAC Cove
And there in bloody battle
thousands died.
5b.Stretcher-Bearer: (Text: Donald H. Lea, Otaki small-holder and Cambridge University
graduate, who served in the Otago Infantry Regiment.)
Stretcher-bearer! Stretcher-bearer!
Man or woman, young or old,
Let you make entreaty for
Stretcher-bearer heavy laden
With the bitter fruits of War.
Stretcher-Bearer! Stretcher-bearer!
I could hear a pulsing sob
In the rhythm an’ the measure
Long before I took the job.
Stretcher-Bearer! Stretcher-bearer!
I can hear the moans that rise
Through the cadence and the rhythm
Through the guns that harmonise!
Stretcher-Bearer! Stretcher-bearer!
No-man’s land, and wounded lying
Under fire – an’ here’s the bit –
All around them runs the barrage
Killing blokes already hit!
Stretcher-Bearer! Stretcher-bearer!
Stretcher-bearer! – God, the barrage!
Getting nearer all the time
Cobber, we can’t get to help you –
That’s what tells you War’s a crime!
Stretcher-Bearer! Stretcher-bearer!
Stretcher-bearer! Water! Water!
Cobber, we can’t get no nearer
Bursting shells – and here’s the rub –
Hills and gullies dry as tinder,
And the wounded in the scrub!
Stretcher-Bearer! Stretcher-bearer!
Fire has beat us! Fire has beat us!
Burning, searing, searing, burning,
Stretcher-bearer! Water! Water!
Stretcher-Bearer! Stretcher-bearer!
Burning, searing, searing, burning,
In my brain! I can’t forget.
Stretcher-Bearer! Stretcher-bearer!
In my dreams I toil and sweat,
Dodging bullets, through the barrage,
Up the blinding hill that smokes,
Never getting any nearer
Never getting any nearer
Mary, Mary, pity, pity,
Mary, pity wounded blokes.
6. The Commemoration – a Generation Lost in Legend: (Text: Mike Subritzky.)
Distant Gallipoli remains forever
in this nation’s memory.
That time of great conflict
And noble blood sacrifice
of young New Zealand men, and Australians …
ANZACS
a generation lost in Legend;
who laid down their lives for King and Empire on foreign soil.
We commemorate Quinn’s Post
We commemorate Pope’s Hill
We commemorate Shrapnel Gully too.
And the Rhododendron Ridge line
the Apex and the Sphinx
And we lay a wreath for all the Kin we knew …
7. The Commemoration – a Generation Lost in Legend: (Text: Mike Subritzky.)
When the last mercenary
hangs up his rifle
and the last cannon
is returned to the store
When the final wicked
warhead is dismantled
and the last great king
decrees an end to war
When the last soldier
abhors the act of killing
and the last parent
mourns for a fallen son
When the last rusted sword
is hammered into a ploughshare
peace on earth
and goodwill to all men