will forever speak for them--the men of Australia and New Zealand.

There the word Anzac was made--made from the first letters of these
words: Australian New Zealand Army Corps. It is a word that will
never die.

Even in the midst of war they had time to give me a welcome that
warmed my heart. And there were pipers with them, too, skirling a
tune as I stepped ashore. There were tears in my eyes again, as there
had been at Sydney. Every laddie in uniform made me think of my own
boy, well off, by now, on his way home to Britain and the duty that
had called him.

They were gathering, all over the Empire, those of British blood.
They were answering the call old Britain had sent across the seven
seas to the far corners of the earth. Even as the Scottish clans
gathered of old the greater British clans were gathering now. It was
a great thing to see that in the beginning; it has comforted me many
a time since, in a black hour, when news was bad and the Hun was
thundering at the line that was so thinly held in France.

Here were free peoples, not held, not bound, free to choose their
way. Britain could not make their sons come to her aid. If they came
they must come freely, joyously, knowing that it was a right cause, a
holy cause, a good cause, that called them. I think of the way they
came--of the way I saw them rising to the summons, in New Zealand, in
Australia, later in Canada. Aye, and I saw more--I saw Americans
slipping across the border, putting on Britain's khaki there in
Canada, because they knew that it was the fight of humanity, of
freedom, that they were entering. And that, too, gave me comfort