Anzac Studies

The term ANZAC is an acronym for Australia and New Zealand Army Corps. It was created during WW1 when, on 25^th April 1915, soldiers of Australia and New Zealand landed on a tiny beach on the Gallipoli Peninsula of Turkey. The general aim was to get these troops to take control of this peninsula and therefore the Dardenelles Strait running alongside, allowing supply ships to sail up into the Black Sea to support Russia against Germany.

However the ANZAC’s landed 2 kilometres north of the proposed landing site, they were surrounded by rocky, steep hills and were easy targets for the Turks hiding higher up on the cliff tops.

After 8 long months of bitter trench warfare, with no side gaining any real advantage, it was decided to evacuate the ANZAC’s from this position. Over a period of ten days in December 1915, 42000 men, under cover of darkness, safely left what became known as ANZAC Cove.
This campaign was a disaster with many wasted lives and lost chances. Over 8,500 New Zealand soldiers landed at Gallipoli, 7,500 were casualties, and of these 2,515 were killed.
Many of the survivors went on to fight in the trenches in the battle fields of France and Belgium until the end of the war in 1918.

 I told the story, in preparation for our ANZAC study and services of Remembrance on 25 April, of travelling through some isolated villages south of Paris, France in 1985. My two companions were friends from England and we were searching for a restaurant for a lunch time meal. We walked into a café and were welcomed by a Frenchman. He immediately saw my kiwi insignia and New Zealand label on my jacket and with great enthusiasm provided a table and a wonderful meal of sea foods, breads, cheeses and wine.
I could not understand what he was specifically saying but the gist was that New Zealand soldiers at the end of World War 2 had entered his village to liberate it.
He refused any offers of payment for the meal.
The children in the class were amazed at this Frenchman’s generosity but my only comments were that as New Zealanders we must maintain a high standard of conduct that our forefathers had established while serving and travelling overseas. Stand tall, be proud and do good to others that you meet on your journey through life.

Again in 1995, when in Europe, my wife and children were travelling through the lush rolling green fields of Belgium. We stopped alongside a walled cemetery, and entered through the bricked gateway. Before us were rows upon rows of white crosses, all perfectly in line, and stretching into the far distance. There were countless floral tributes and the lawn was tended beautifully.
It was the resting place of countless soldiers who had served for their country and had lost their lives in battle. The locals must be very proud of these brave men and women who had fought for their liberation, repaying the service by nurturing this cemetery for all to remember.

One of the first tasks for the children in the class was to record the results of war. There was a hush over the room, even with an invitation to discuss their ideas, as they listed their thoughts. When it was a time to share their ideas the lists were endless; Loss of life, forced to fight, fear, a permanent injury, nightmares forever, property is destroyed……
Came one comment from one of the groups, “So why do we have war then?”
We will leave our future generation to provide a solution to this question, because as sure as heck, our current generation hasn’t provided the answer.

 We read a story called ‘The Donkey Man’, about a New Zealand soldier in Gallipoli who, as part of the Medical team, used a donkey to carry the wounded down to the beach. He survived his harrowing time on the peninsula and gave the donkey, before he evacuated, to a Greek family.
After the war he went back to the job he had in Auckland, New Zealand, before he had enlisted to serve overseas - a teacher.
“So he was just a normal man then?” was a response when discussing this story after reading it.

The class was learning about the ANZAC landing at Gallipoli by highlighting features from a reading provided for them. They found out about the incorrect landing site on Gallipoli, the life of a soldier, the bravery to assist one in distress and the disappointment of an evacuation.
A pupil was curious enough to ask, “So why is it celebrated when they lost?”
Suffice to say, and as also intimated in numerous books, it was the foundation of our nationhood, a sense of pride to serve as New Zealanders, an ability to nurture those in distress, to develop a unique sense of humour in difficult times, and to have a respect for our foe.

We did a study of some maps of the locality to gain a better understanding of the geography. On a political map there was confusion as to who was our ally and who was part of the Central Alliance. In 1914 – 1918 Serbia was an ally, Bulgaria was on Turkey's side, Albania was neutral and the Austro-Hungary coalition sided with Germany. We were fighting against the Turks and our allies relied on Russia for support.
There were too many countries for the children to understand and, if in High School, they could study events of the Second World War, being even more confused by changing truces and binding allegiances between countries.

We had a discussion of a well known poem called ‘In Flanders Fields’. This was written during the First World War by a Canadian doctor, John McCrae, inspired after the death of a friend and fellow soldier. The references to the red poppies that grew on the graves of fallen soldiers make this flower a well recognized memorial symbol for soldiers who have died in conflict.
Asked one little girl in the class, “Was Flanders Fields in Gallipoli?”

 In Flanders fields the poppies blow
      Between the crosses, row on row,
   That mark our place; and in the sky
   The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
   Loved and were loved, and now we lie
         In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
   The torch; be yours to hold it high.
   If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
         In Flanders fields.

I will publish one poem by a pupil in our class, all we had time to write, before the end of term. Here is Lucy’s fine effort.

                                 War Poem
Exhausted, sweating soldiers digging in the hot sun
Deep, hiding trenches with sticky mud at the bottom
Wounded soldiers with blood and tears
Gentle donkeys with dripping blood on their backs
Sneaky snipers aiming and killing
Soldiers cooking their billy beef and eating stale biscuits.
                                     by Lucy

The last day of term we celebrated music in the Junior school, successes during the term and the coming of ANZAC Day. A teacher on our staff read a very special poem entitled, ‘Why wear a poppy?’ Just as she began the reading the skies opened up and the rain clattered on the school hall roof. When she was making her closing statement the rain eased, then stopped, to allow us to carry on our assembly undisturbed.
Here is the poem that opened up the skies.

PLEASE WEAR A POPPY

by Don Crawford

"Please wear a poppy," the lady said
  And held one forth, but I shook my head.
  Then I stopped and watched as she offered them there,
  And her face was old and lined with care;
  But beneath the scars the years had made
  There remained a smile that refused to fade.

  A boy came whistling down the street,
  Bouncing along on care-free feet.
  His smile was full of joy and fun,
  "Lady," said he, "may I have one?"
  When she'd pinned it on he turned to say,
  "Why do we wear a poppy today?"

  The lady smiled in her wistful way
  And answered, "This is Remembrance Day,
  And the poppy there is the symbol for
  The gallant men who died in war.
  And because they did, you and I are free -
  That's why we wear a poppy, you see."

  "I had a boy about your size,
  With golden hair and big blue eyes.
  He loved to play and jump and shout,
  Free as a bird he would race about.
  As the years went by he learned and grew
  and became a man - as you will, too."

  "He was fine and strong, with a boyish smile,
  But he'd seemed with us such a little while
  When war broke out and he went away.
  I still remember his face that day
  When he smiled at me and said, Goodbye,
  I'll be back soon, Mom, so please don't cry."

  "But the war went on and he had to stay,
  And all I could do was wait and pray.
  His letters told of the awful fight,
  (I can see it still in my dreams at night),
  With the tanks and guns and cruel barbed wire,
  And the mines and bullets, the bombs and fire."

  "Till at last, at last, the war was won -
  And that's why we wear a poppy son."
  The small boy turned as if to go,
  Then said, "Thanks, lady, I'm glad to know.
  That sure did sound like an awful fight,
  But your son - did he come back all right?"

  A tear rolled down each faded check;
  She shook her head, but didn't speak.
  I slunk away in a sort of shame,
  And if you were me you'd have done the same;
  For our thanks, in giving, if oft delayed,
  Thought our freedom was bought - and thousands paid!

  And so when we see a poppy worn,
  Let us reflect on the burden borne,
  By those who gave their very all
  When asked to answer their country's call
  That we at home in peace might live.
  Then wear a poppy! Remember - and give!

 Camp at Stoney Creek Ranch

Stoney Creek Ranch is a non-denominational, non-profit Christian Camp offering overnight camping facilities in separate well appointed dormitories. Each dormitory sleeps twelve campers in bunks with mattresses. The camp is nestled in 50 acres of rolling Hawkes Bay farmland, located off Highway 50 only 20 kilometres south of Hastings.

The Room 5 class at Haumoana School were well prepared with appropriate lessons provided before the visit to Stoney Creek Ranch.
In fact I can remember a comment made by our previous Principal Mr Marty Hantz many years ago. We had been working intensely for two weeks before our camp; going on tramps to build fitness levels, practicing the pitching of tents, having a lunch time cookout, designing maps of the expected campsite, drawing trampers in full kit, assembling items to go into packs, looking at procedures when getting lost and researching on hypothermia.
When we had our meeting to go over the camp programme and enlist parental support Marty made this comment. “The children of this class have done so much preparatory work that they don’t now need to attend the camp.”

As an initiating lesson on camp I had asked the class for some expected activities we could be doing while on the camp site. There was a bubble of excitement as the children proffered their ideas.
“Caving,” called one.
“Abseiling,” offered another.
“Rafting on some rapids,” chimed in a third.
Unfortunately there were none of the above suggestions taking place at the camp and a feeling of bitter disappointment permeated throughout the class. Until I suggested what actually would be provided; Rock wall climbing, Rifle shooting, Archery, Motor bike riding, Indoor Hockey, Flying fox, Low ropes walking, Obstacle course and River hole swimming.

“Wow!” was the first expression as the children sighted the camp. We had just swept through the driveway of autumn trees leading up to the Stoney Creek Ranch main building to park the bus we had travelled on. As we disembarked there was excited chatter and a comment, “This was just what Mr Chittenden described.”
Gathering our belongings on the grass verge we gazed at the red painted dormitories with their high peaked roof lines built around a lawned common like a Norwegian village.
As the children were allocated their quarters for the next three days they hobbled with their heavy baggage towards the inviting open doors to inspect the interiors.
More screams of delight as many fought for top bunks and appreciated the prospect of having an ensuite bathroom attached. Parents, who were staying for the duration of the camp, also joined in to claim their space alongside the children in the dormitories and to provide much needed support for the ensuing camp activities.
Toilet facilities are always an issue at any camp. Said one excited female pupil, “I won’t need to ask for the toilets because they are already in our dormitory.”

Our first assembly was sitting on the grass under a mature cherry blossom within the circle of dormitories. It was an occasion to be introduced to the camp staff who would be conducting the activities provided.
It is amazing how, at times, children can be beautifully behaved and attentive.
A generous grandmother of one of our children had provided a cash donation to purchase treats for the class while on camp.
“Who’s sitting up straight for a jelly bean?” works wonders.

The first afternoon activities were pistol shooting, archery, flying fox and using the low ropes. Parents were asked for a choice of activity they would like to supervise for the duration of the afternoon.
Andrea’s decision, one of our parent volunteers, was an easy one. “I will do shooting then I won’t be asked to go down the flying fox.”

  

The shooting was with spring loaded pistols using slug pellets, aiming at ringed targets on trees or soft toys resting on a platform. Unfortunately one of the two pistols developed a malfunction and only one was available to use.
“Do you want to go to another activity instead of this one?” I asked as it was a long wait between turns, with the shooter having three rounds.
“No we will wait for our turn,” was the unanimous reply.
So the children were content to watch, support the shooter and wait a while for their turn.

The swimming hole in a stream nearby was visited at 4.30 in the afternoon as the sun was slowly sinking to the West. For April 1^st it was unusually balmy conditions, it now being Autumn in the Southern Hemisphere and the leaves on the deciduous trees were already turning. Yet all the children were able to go in for a swim.
There was a rope to swing on atop a three metre cliff face so it was essential that timing was right when releasing the rope. Many did so effectively, by firmly clinging to the rope, leaping off the cliff out over the swimming hole and releasing as they started swinging back.
Jenna unfortunately mistimed her release. She swung out gracefully, reached the outer apex, and began her return. However she forgot to release the rope and slammed into the cliff face, when she then let go of the rope.
There were sighs of relief from the watching crowd as she bubbled to the surface and slowly swam to shore.
There were a few scratches on her leg and a slight look of embarrassment on her face, but she beamed when she heard isolated appreciative claps from the audience sitting on the bank.

It was shower time at 5.30pm back at each of the dormitories, giving the children an opportunity to take off their hot clingy tee shirts, perspiring socks and mud caked shorts.
 It was a successfully rapid affair with a continuously running shower while children entered, soaped up and exited from commands by encouraging parents.
The children had been requested by their teacher to adorn themselves with smellies and put on their evening attire.
When they emerged from their dormitories they were rosy cheeked, cleanly and stylishly dressed and smelling of scents and perfumed soaps.
The girls were as well!

After a meal it was time for evening activities. We worked to a rotation with three activities provided; dice games of Ludo and Snakes and Ladders, Memory Game of trying to remember 20 items put on display then hidden for children to list them, and Indoor Hockey.
The hockey games were robust and lively, ably led by our parent Graham, and designed to tire the children out before bed. Graham himself was red faced, dripping in sweat and a wringing wet singlet clinging to his body as he participated fully by encouraging dribbling, positional play, speedy bursts and solid defence.
With this sort of positive modelling, it was little surprise that other parents also participated fully.
“My heart was racing,” panted Paula, one of the parents. “I had to go in goal to 
have a rest.”

Dormitory 5, a boys group, were awake at 5 o’clock the following morning. Their parent supervisor, Alex, was a truck driver and his days habitually started at this time. To keep the boys busy while he sat up in bed studying a health and safety module as part of his employment conditions, he had them stacking their shoes, wiping the window sills, folding their bedding to eliminate wrinkles and storing their clothing neatly in their packs.
Later, at 8.30am during inspection to check the cleanliness of the dormitories, this dormitory received a resounding 10 out of 10.
Give those boys a jelly bean.

It was dark at 7am, the time for the children to get out of bed, for our second busy day at camp. I blew the whistle in the still morning air, with only a hint of a hazy morning sun creeping over the horizon.
I entered one of the dormitories, switched on the light and called out, “Rise and shine boys.”
Harry, one of the male occupants, slowly rubbed the sleep from his eyes.
“I thought my teacher was in my dreams waking me up”, he burbled out.
“That would have been more like a nightmare Harry”, I countered in return.

Duties during the morning of the second day were received with great enthusiasm. Children, without complaint, were wiping bathroom basins, getting down on their hands and knees to clean the shower tray and washing walls and windows. In fact several children were asking if there were any more duties to do on camp.
More than one comment came from several parents, “Why don’t they do this at home.”

On this second day, along with the eight parents we already had on permanent campsite duty, we were inundated with further keen parents wanting to observe proceedings as part of their day’s outing. There was Lucy’s mum, Tobias’ mum and Lachlan’s mum to name a few. I was stretched to give everyone a supervisory task as we busily checked the children’s safety procedures while either motor-biking, rock climbing or playing indoor hockey.
In fact Lachlan’s mum, Nicky, was so keen to find meaningful occupation, she pleaded, “Please, please, give me a job to do.”
At this point it is time to thank all the parents for their enthusiastic involvement in making the camp such a success. Nicky only demonstrated the attitude all the parents displayed to ensure the children in their care received as many learning opportunities as possible. Thanks Nicky for epitomising this point.

The afternoon was spent on survival with the children working in their dormitory groups. For a survival activity the children needed to build a bivouac using all the materials they could gather under trees and on the ground in an adjoining paddock to the camp. This temporary shelter needed to be wind proof, earthquake proof and water proof and was to be tested for their resilience in each of these categories.

After one hour construction time, with the help and offers of advice from our many parents, the huts were ready for testing. The occupants of the huts were to remain close by to observe and experience the outcomes of the fair testing procedures.

First was wind proofing. All the members of their hut needed to fit cosily into their construction and await the onslaught of bad weather. Graham, our indoor hockey expert, exuberantly started up the leaf blower and at full throttle blasted each hut.

Next the water proofing. While the members crouched in their hut it was tested by pouring a bucket of water over the roof and splashing water against the walls. There were squeals of anguish and many a member exited with dripping clothes.

Finally the earthquake proofing. Alex, our truck driver and early riser, used his work boots with gusto to inflict shakes of 7 on the Richter Scale.  Many of the huts withstood this violent trembling but the hut members needed to evacuate for safety reasons.

We offer a special thanks to Jules, the camp staff member, for enthusiastically organising the blowing away of the huts, drenching the children with buckets of cold water and destroying the huts beyond repair. We will be back for more next year.

Here are some poems from the children to share with you.

                                                                  Nature

Trees big, small, long and short, lots of them all aroundSheep run, jump and are woolly and soft.

Grass rustling on the ground from the wind.

Flowers glowing colourful and as bright as the sun.

Birds soft, fluffy, singing and tweeting, will glide

                                                            by Jenna Cook

Nature poem

                                     The healthy green trees swaying in the air

                                     Fluffy woolly sheep happily eating the green grass

                                     The shimmering grasses shining with water in the sun

                                     Beautiful and colourful flowers swaying in the air

                                     Beautiful birds tweeting in the air

By    Grace   Akeripa

NATURE
The tall   colourful   trees waving in the breeze
The chattering woolly sheep running around the field

The tall long green grass swaying side to side
Straight flowers dancing in the sparkling sun
Behind the trees birds chirping and gliding their colourful wings

                                                                                      by Elise Ramage
        

The bus journey home, the following day, was a quiet affair, with children reflecting on their successes, the fun times they had, the sneaky nights when they struggled to stay awake, and the tasty food they enjoyed. Many children just managed to stay awake.
Said Hyla as she climbed off the bus back at school, “That’s the best camp I have ever been on.”
It’s the only camp she has been on!

Finally back at school the next day the children needed to do an evaluation of their camp experiences by answering a select group of questions.
One question was: What activities could be included?
 Some answers were; BMX Riding, water sliding, making tree huts in the trees, a three hour tramp into the mountains, food making in the kitchen and sky diving.
Another question was: What improvements could be made to camp?
 Some answers included; less sheep making messes on the cricket pitch, more comfortable beds, more pistols for shooting, motor bikes should be bigger, and mow the lawns.
To the question: Based on this camp experience, what activities could you possibly pursue later on?
 Answers included; I want to purchase a motor bike, get a farm and ride a motor bike, join a swimming club, be a rugby player, and be in the army like WW3.

The class in Room 5 and their teacher hope you have enjoyed reading about our camp experiences at Stoney Creek Ranch.