An Anzac memorial service was held above the site in the South China Sea where a Japanese freighter — which had been carrying more than a 1000 prisoners — was sunk by an American submarine in 1942.

The Montevideo Maru, carrying soldiers and civilians captured when Japan invaded Rabaul in Papua New Guinea in January 1942, was torpedoed by the USS Sturgeon off the coast of the Philippines in July 1942.

A total of 979 people died, almost all Australian, but there were a number of other nationalities, including three New Zealanders.

The wreck was located last week by the research vessel Fugro Equator and the Silentworld Foundation, using an autonomous underwater vehicle.

One of those on board the Fugro Equator is Andrea Williams, the chair of the Rabaul and Montevideo Maru Society, who said the site, at more than 4000m deep, will remain untouched and be treated as a sacred place.

She said the crew on the Fugro held a service on Anzac Day over the site of the wreck.

“That was a tremendously moving experience as you can imagine,” she said.

“You know, being out on the Fugro Equator, and you have had the vast deep blue ocean just spread all around you, and just think about all the lives that were lost. So having a service over the site was tremendously special and very, very moving.”

Williams, who lost an uncle and her grandfather on the ship, helped form the Rabaul and Montevideo Society in 2009, after the sinking had been largely ignored by the Australian government and media.

She said ahead of each Anzac Day she would write to media outlets asking them to cover the sinking, which remains the worst maritime disaster in Australian history.

But Williams said more and more people linked to the society found the gatherings were “really comforting for the families because they could talk about it to other people who understand their generational grief really, I think”.

“And you find in the early days you have more of the siblings of those who had died on the Montevideo Maru, and also more of the children.”

She said with the greater recognition it was rewarding to know that the men lost on the Montevideo Maru were not forgotten.

This article is republished under a community partnership agreement with RNZ.

Article by AsiaPacificReport.nz

Anzac dawn ceremonies have been held across the Pacific region, with tributes paid to both Anzac and Pacific Island soldiers killed in the two world wars.

Papua New Guinea
In Papua New Guinea, World War II veterans were among those who attended a dawn service held at the Bomana War cemetery in Port Moresby.

Bomana is the largest war cemetery in the Pacific, containing the graves of 3779 service personnel, the majority of whom were Australian — many of whom fought while sick with malaria.

“Their suffering was immense and endurance beyond measure,” Australia’s Minister for International Development in the Pacific, Pat Conroy, said in his speech.

“They died in defence of Australia. What happened here is important to our national story and forged a deep friendship between Australia and Papua New Guinea,” he added.

The empire of Japan invaded Papua New Guinea in 1942, capturing more than half of the country before being pushed back by an Allied counter offensive — a campaign which resulted in the deaths of more than 7000 Australians, 4684 Americans and more than 200,000 Japanese.

An unknown number of Papuans were killed, many of whom served as scouts and stretcher-bearers.

Papuan deaths included 40 members of the Papuan Infantry Battalion who died fighting alongside the Anzacs.

“We will never forget the Papua New Guineans who fought alongside and supported the Australians in the hardest of times,” said Conroy.

“Forty graves are of soldiers from the Papuan New Guinea Battalion who fought bravely alongside the Australians.”

Samoa
Samoa became a battle front in 1914, when the then German colony was invaded by the New Zealand army in a bloodless take-over. A number of Samoan Anzac soldiers served in the World War, three of whom are known to have died.

Prime Minister Fiame Naomi Mata’afa acknowledged Samoa’s war contributions in her Anzac Dawn Ceremony speech in Apia.

“Anzac Day provides us with a reminder of the close and enduring links between Samoa and its Pacific working in close collaboration to ensure that we can coexist in a region of peace and stability.”

“As we consider the enormity of the sacrifice made, let us remember that their true and lasting legacy are the freedoms we continue to enjoy to this day.”

American Samoan US Army representatives were honoured at the service for their sacrifices — according to the US military, ethnic Samoans have the highest enlistment rate.

Many New Zealand soldiers of Samoan heritage also participated in World War II and recent conflicts in countries such as Afghanistan.

Having no standing army, Samoa contributes police officers to peacekeeping missions around the world.

“No doubt, the Anzac spirit lives on in the work of those servicemen and women currently involved in operations overseas including United Nation peacekeeping and humanitarian missions” said Fiame.

“Let us also take this time to reflect on the families and communities with loved ones currently deployed.”

President of Returned Services Association and Deputy Prime Minister Tuala Tevaga Ponifasio expressed his gratitude to the Anzacs for their sacrifices but also paid tribute to Samoans who fought for independence.

“Today we paid tribute to those soldiers from New Zealand, Australia, Great Britain and all those Samoans who gave their lives for those nations,

“Our brothers and sisters who served in the United States Military . . . we salute and honour you.

“A lot of Samoans lost their lives during colonial times and were subjected to unfair treatment, their names are not written on these memorials but are written in our hearts,

“War is something we all hear about but we fail to comprehend, it’s violent practice that is won not by weapons but by the hearts and minds of soldiers.”

Fiji
Fiji contributed a total of 1255 volunteers (the majority being European expats) to World War 1, with 173 never returning home from Europe.

In World War II, the former British colony committed around 8000 troops to the Pacific War — one of the highest rates of enlistments from a Commonwealth country, 50 of whom died in the Solomon Islands campaign.

Prime Minister Sitiveni Rabuka paid his respects by laying a wreath at Fiji’s National War Memorial Site in Suva where a dawn service was held.

New Zealand High Commissioner to Fiji, Charlotte Darlow, said Anzac Day celebrated a special bond between Fiji and the Anzacs.

“Standing here today, there is a shared sense of unity, comradeship, and collective security, but it is important to remember that today’s peace comes from the hard work and sacrifice of previous generations,” said Darlow.

“Fiji, Australia, and New Zealand, alongside other regional partners, have all been part of that story.”

Tonga
In Nuku’alofa, the Tongan military hosted a dawn service at Pangai Lahi Park near Nuku’alofa’s waterfront.

Tongans participated in both World Wars, with the Tonga Defence Force deploying two contingents to the Battle of Guadalcanal in 1942. Two Tongan soldiers were killed.

A New Zealand Defence Force representative along with High Commissioner Matthew Howell attended the service, where they commended Tonga for its contributions to World War 1.

“Ninety-one Tongan soldiers volunteered to fight in World War 1, 10 in the Australian Imperial Force, 62 in the New Zealand Expeditionary Force and 15 in the Maori Battalion, two died on the battlefield and another would succumb to disease,” he said.

“Anzac Day is not just about those who served long ago, its also about those who continue to serve till this day.”

This article is republished under a community partnership agreement with RNZ.

Article by AsiaPacificReport.nz

What happened on the Gallipoli peninsula in Turkey 108 years ago has shocked and shaped Aotearoa New Zealand ever since. The challenge in the 21st century, then, is how best to give contemporary relevance to such an epochal event.

The essence of the Anzac story is well known. As part of the first world war British Imperial Forces, the Australian and New Zealand Army Corps (Anzacs) landed at Gallipoli on April 25 1915. For eight months they endured the constant threat of death or maiming in terrible living conditions.

Ultimately, their occupation of that narrow and rugged piece of Turkish coast failed. The 30,000 Anzacs were evacuated after eight months. More than 2700 New Zealand and 8700 Australian soldiers died, with many more wounded.

The first anniversary of the landing was a day of mourning, with Anzac Day becoming a public holiday in 1922. A remembrance day of sorrow mixed with pride, it has grown over the years to include all those who served and died in later international conflicts.

Over time, various narratives and themes have emerged from that Gallipoli “origin story”: of Aotearoa New Zealand’s emergence as a nation, proving itself to Britain and Empire; of the brave, fit, loyal soldier-mates who emblemised the Kiwi spirit of egalitarianism, fairness and duty. All this mingled with the lasting shock and underlying anger at class hierarchy and the British leadership’s incompetence.

But historians know well that the “Anzac spirit” is a complex and ever-evolving idea. In 2023, what do we teach school-aged children about its meaning and significance? One way forward is to rethink those Anzac narratives and tropes in a more complex way.

Colonialism and class
The Anzac story is tied up in the nation’s history as part of the British Empire. The Anzac toll was just part of a staggering 46,000 “Britons” — including many from India and Ireland — who died at Gallipoli.

Some 86,000 Turks also died defending their peninsula. We need to teach about the Anzac sacrifice in the context of a global conflict where the magnitude of loss was horrific.

Importantly, Anzac themes are bound up in early forms of colonial nationalism: New Zealand proving itself to Britain and developing its own fighting mentality on battlefields far from home.

Part of this involves the notion of incompetent British commanders who let down the Anzac troops — but this is part of a bigger story.

Focusing on imperial and class hierarchies of the time can place what happened in that broader context. The legendary story of Chunuck Bair, taken on August 8 by Colonel William Malone’s Wellington Regiment, but where most of the soldiers were killed when they were not relieved in time, is particularly evocative.

Māori and the imperial project
From our vantage point in the present, of course, we cannot ignore the Māori experience of war and colonialism. As the historian Vincent O’Malley has suggested, New Zealand’s “great war” of nation-making was actually Ngā pakanga o Aotearoa — the New Zealand Wars.

It’s time to teach the complexity of this past and the multiple perspectives on it. For example, Waikato leader Te Puea Hērangi led opposition to World War I conscription and spoke against Māori participation on the side of a power that had only recently invaded her people’s land.

Conversely, Māori seeking inclusion in the settler nation did participate. On July 3, 1915, the 1st Māori Contingent landed at Anzac Cove. Te Rangi Hiroa (Sir Peter Buck) (Ngāti Mutunga) was to say:

Our feet were set on a distant land where our blood was to be shed in the cause of the Empire to which we belonged.

These words echo the familiar Anzac trope of the New Zealand nation being born at Gallipoli. Such sentiments led to postwar pilgrimages to retrace the steps of ancestors and claim the site as part of an Anzac heritage — a corner of New Zealand even.

For many young New Zealanders it has become a rite of passage, part of the big OE. That a visit to Anzac Cove is still more popular than visiting the sites of Ngā pakanga o Aotearoa is something our teaching can investigate.

Mateship and conformity
The notion of the Anzac soldier as courageous and beyond reproach, willing to make the ultimate sacrifice for nation and empire, is also overdue for revision. The “glue” of mateship — a potent combination of masculine bravery and strength with extreme loyalty to fellow soldiers — is again a contested narrative.

By the 1970s, as historian Rowan Light’s work shows, there was a significant challenge to such perceptions from the counterculture, peace protesters and feminists. And by the 1980s, veterans were sharing their stories more candidly with writer Maurice Shadbolt and war historian Chris Pugsley.

Teaching about the meaning of mateship might examine the history of those peer-pressured into participating in war, those who were conscripted and had no choice, and more on the fate of conscientious objectors like Archibald Baxter. At its worst, the idea of mateship was window dressing for uniformity and parochialism.

New Zealanders today have complex multicultural and global roots. We have ancestors who were co-opted to fight on different sides in 20th-century wars, including those who fought anti-colonial wars in India, Ireland and Samoa.

Some came here as refugees escaping conflict. Jingoism and what it really represents deserves critical analysis.

Poppies and peace
The ubiquitous poppy, an icon much reproduced in classrooms, is also ripe for contextualisation and debate over its meaning. In the age of global environmental crisis, it can be seen as more than a symbol of sacrifice immortalised in verse and iconography.

The poppy also reminds us of the landscapes devastated by the machinery of war that killed and maimed people, plants and animals. It contains within it myriad lessons about the threats science and technology can pose to a vulnerable planet.

Anzac Day rose from the shock, loss and grief felt by those on the home front. And beyond the familiar tropes of nationalism, mateship and egalitarianism, this remains its overriding mood.

Remembering and learning about the terrible physical and mental cost of war is the real point of those familiar phrases “lest we forget” and “never again”. That spirit of humanitarianism chimes with Aotearoa New Zealand’s modern role and evolving self-image as a peacekeeping, nuclear-free nation.

Anzac Day also speaks to the need for global peace and arbitration, and how war is no viable solution to conflict. Those are surely lessons worth teaching.

Dr Katie Pickles is professor of history, University of Canterbury. This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons licence. Read the original article.

Article by AsiaPacificReport.nz