But better than I can hope to express it you find the high, indomitable soul of Australasia revealing itself in two letters from which I will make some short extracts. One is written by Mr. Edward Grimwade, who went out and settled in New Zealand some years ago, to his brother, Mr. L. L. Grimwade, of Stoke-on-Trent, in England. "My boy, Len, went away with his regiment yesterday," writes Mr. Grimwade. "All we can say is 'The Lord bless the lad.'... On this subject his mother is in liquidation, and his dad not much better. None the less, if the Motherland calls, Ted must go too.... I am prepared to give another son (as I have given one) and I am prepared to get into the fighting line myself. Further, I am prepared to suffer loss of fortune and see starvation, rather than sacrifice the honour of our Empire."
NEAR THE PYRAMIDS: THE CAMP OF THE AUSTRALIANS, AGAINST
WHOM NO GERMAN-TRAINED TURKISH ARMY CAN BE SUCCESSFUL.
"STRANGERS IN THE LAND OF EGYPT."
The Australian Remounts Depot at Abassia near Cairo.
FOOTBALL IN CAMP AT ABASSIA.
And here is a letter written in these later days which will serve to show the splendid spirit that lives in Australia's volunteers. It was written by Second Lieutenant Meager, of the 3rd Australian Infantry. He took part in that daring and triumphant landing at Gallipoli, and was promoted from the ranks for bravery. Later, he was killed in action, leaving a widow and child in Australia, and this last letter from him was received by his mother on the same day as the announcement of his death reached her:
"During the next few days we shall be facing death every minute. If I am taken off, do as the Roman matrons of old–keep your tears for privacy, steel your heart, and get a dozen recruits to fill my place. Pray hard for me, and if God wills it, I shall see it through. I shall go into action with a clean heart, and if I emerge safely I hope I shall have proved myself a man and a leader, and thereby have justified the confidence of my commanders."
This is the stuff of which our Australasian brothers are made; these are the men upon whose degeneracy or disloyalty Treitschke, Bernhardi, and that pitiful brood of Prussian wiseacres relied. Never was any royal utterance more profoundly significant or more simply true than the message that King George sent to his Overseas Dominions at the end of the first month of the war: