With Australasia, as with the motherland, the first honours of war fell to the fleet; and whilst the fleet was gathering them in, recruiting for the armies continued briskly through August, September, October, with intervals of suspension because the recruits kept offering themselves in such numbers and so much faster than they could possibly be equipped. By September the New Zealand Maoris refused to be left out of it any longer, and applied for permission to raise and supply a separate corps of volunteers for active service, and no sooner was the offer accepted than the corps was ready, with a big overflow of applicants on a waiting list, in case reinforcements were needed. At the same time the Urewara Maoris, the tribe most recently in arms against the State, presented the Government with 1,600 acres of land to be turned to account as a contribution to the Empire Defence Fund.
All Australia and New Zealand were roused as nothing had ever roused them before; and the glowing enthusiasm and determination of their peoples, instead of wearying a little with the passing of the days, rose and intensified. In the beginning the thousands of soldiers to be sent to the front were fixed at definite totals; but before the end of September, New Zealand had made it clear that the size of her contingent would be limited by nothing but the number of her men who were fit to handle a gun; and Mr. Fisher had said for Australia, at a meeting in connection with the Australian Expeditionary Force, "Not 1 per cent. of the people of the Commonwealth are unfavourable to sending as many contingents as may be necessary to ensure victory over Germany and settle this matter once for all. Many Australians would rather be dead than in the grip of the dominion of another people. We mean to leave an honourable name behind us, even if we must perish to maintain it." And that these were no idle words Gallipoli has borne and is bearing witness.
In that month of September, Melbourne and Adelaide, Sydney and Brisbane, all the great cities of the Commonwealth States, were filling their streets to pay homage to the troops that marched through from the training grounds in full war equipment, ready and eager for the order to embark. To describe one such memorable spectacle is to describe them all, for the same great spirit was abroad from end to end of the land.
"For the first time since the war broke out," says The Melbourne Age for the 26th September, "Melbourne was afforded an opportunity of seeing in force the troops who are to form Victoria's contingent at the front. To the number of about 5,000 they marched through the city between 11 a.m. and 1 p.m." It was a day of rain and sleet, but the weather was of little consequence either to the soldiers or the onlookers. "From the north, by train and by road the troops poured into the city, and while they were mustering on the northern boundaries the people were assembling in tens of thousands along the principal streets. For this was to be the city's farewell to these men who were going out to take their place in the fight for the integrity of the Empire, and it was clear from the start that it was going to be no half-hearted affair. For weeks past soldiers had been passing through Melbourne, sometimes in small parties, sometimes in large squads, while ever and anon there had been lines of ambulance wagons going by, or the houses had shaken to the rumbling of big guns. But yesterday all these units were gathered into an Army to be reviewed by the Commander-in-Chief of the Commonwealth forces." The Light Horse rode in from camp through a pelting rain; hardy bushmen, most of them, drawn from the remote back-lands of the State. They and their horses were drenched, but their cheerfulness was not even damped. They rode in and halted along King Street, between Collins and Bourke Streets, to await the arrival of the infantry. Wild squalls of wind and sleet drove the crowd to scatter and find temporary shelter where they could, but as soon as the clamant call of the bugle sounded and the infantry divisions were seen marching sturdily up through the rain from Spencer Street Station the waiting myriads forgot everything else and raced back into their places, till the long streets were narrowed to a living, cheering lane from start to finish of the line of route.
CAMP OF THE AUSTRALIANS AT MUDROS BAY.
SULTAN OF EGYPT VISITS THE DARDANELLES WOUNDED.
SECOND DIVISION LEAVING MUDROS BAY WITH AUSTRALIANS ON THE FORE DECK.