Rt Hon Christopher Luxon
Prime Minister
25 April 2025

There are few battlegrounds as ingrained in New Zealand’s history and identity as this place. The very name “Chunuk Bair”, like the name, “Gallipoli” resonates with New Zealanders at home, so very, very far away.

The thousands of our men who spilled blood on this soil mean a part of our country is forever part of this land, too.

At the time, this battle was the culmination of months of fighting for those men.

Many would not have ventured much beyond their hometown at the ‘uttermost ends of the earth’ before arriving here at the start of the Gallipoli campaign.

In the dawn light, they would have seen the ridges and gullies rise and drop along the coastline.

They would have seen this place – the highest point in view – and known it would be crucial to the campaign.

Some would have thought it looked a bit like home.

But for them and for all who joined this battle, it was closer to hell.

Some 16,000 New Zealanders came ashore over those months, 110 years ago.

They fought in unspeakable conditions from trenches that still scar this peninsula.

When Lieutenant Colonel William Malone led the Wellington Battalion to seize this summit before dawn on the 8th of August 1915, days of horror followed.

Under a scorching sun, they clashed with waves of charging Ottoman Turks. William Malone was killed that afternoon.

The Wellington Battalion was joined by men from the Auckland Mounted Rifles, before being replaced by the Otago Battalion and the Wellington Mounted Rifles.

For two days, they clung to this summit before being overwhelmed early on the 10th of August.

The losses on both sides were immense.

An Australian war correspondent wrote, “of the 760 of the Wellington Infantry Battalion who had captured the height that morning, there came out only 70 unwounded or slightly wounded men.”

“Not one had dreamed of leaving his post.”

“They could only talk in whispers. Their eyes were sunken. Their knees trembled.”

The other battalions faced similar losses. Only 22 of the 288 Auckland Mounted Rifles remained.

They say that truth is the first casualty of war and the true horror of this battle was not reflected by the newspapers back home at the time.

Stories were headlined “our boys win new glory,” and “splendid progress made” in the days following Chunuk Bair.

A letter Colonel Malone wrote to a friend was published with the announcement of his death.

“I love these men of mine,” he said.

“Heroes all – as brave as brave can be.”

“Hardy, enduring, patient, cheerful, clever soldiers.”

“New Zealand has reason to be proud of her sons.”

And Turkiye has reason to be proud of its sons too.

They defended this hilltop and their country and gave their lives to do so.

Too many sons of New Zealand, of Turkiye and of other countries breathed their last breath on this ground and in the battles that raged below it.

The circumstances in which our two nations’ bonds were forged are nightmarish, but we owe it to the fallen to learn from their sacrifice.

Politicians in New Zealand walk past a painting of Chunuk Bair as we enter our debating chamber.

Inside, a plaque bearing Gallipoli’s name hangs above us.

And a few hundred steps away from our Parliament sits a stone from this very memorial.

Reminders like these speak not just of the horrors of war that took place here, but of the need for enduring peace everywhere.

Many New Zealanders come to this place to honour our fallen.

We show by our presence that we have made good on our promise: One hundred and 10 years on, we do remember them.

And the people of Turkiye remember their own sons and the great courage with which they defended their country.

Today – and on all days – we acknowledge their sacrifice.

Heroes all – as brave as brave can be.

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