Early History In pre-colonial times, Te Ara-taumaihi (Bulls) was one of the main settlements for the Ngā Uri o Tuariki hapū, part of Ngāti Apa iwi. Evidence of Māori use of the area around Bulls is concentrated along the Rangitīkei River system. Waterways, estuaries and wetland were places that provided abundant waterfowl, forest birds, fish, fibre resources and shellfish near the coast, with rivers, essential travel and communication routes. Recorded archaeological sites include cooking hearths, midden, and pā sites, as well as an important occupation at Te Awamate Pā (List No. 6234), that was used at least up to the early nineteenth century. There was much warfare and political manoeuvring in the district in the early nineteenth century, and after this time the land around Bulls was part the rohe of Ngāti Apa, the then dominant iwi in the district. Their main settlement was at Pārewanui Pā, eight kilometres southwest of Bulls, home to around 100 people. Land was acquired by the Crown in 1849 as part of the Rangitīkei Purchase with Ngāti Apa retaining a 647-hectare reserve in and around Pārewanui. During the mid-nineteenth century arable land became increasingly scarce around Wellington as European settlement expanded. Within five years of the Rangitīkei Purchase farmers from Wellington began seeking opportunities in the area, and they were not the only folk who sought their fortune in the district. Carpenter James Bull (1831-1920) originally arrived in the area in 1857, making the joinery for an inn being built by the local ferryman at the estuary of the Rangitīkei River. Seeing an opportunity to make the most of demand for timber as European settlement expanded, Bull went inland taking a lease inland of five acres from run holder Edward Daniell, negotiating with local iwi so he could cut timber from their reserves in the area. Not long after the settlement of Bulls (also known as Rangitīkei, Bull Town or Clifton) sprung up around the sawmill and store operated by Bull. Other developments dominated the socio-political landscape in the 1860s. Rangitīkei was a continuance of the Taranaki war, namely the incursions of Titokowaru (1823? -1888) in response to hostile government land grabs into south Taranaki. When the government troops abandoned the area, locals in the Rangitīkei were fearful that conflicts would move south and acted swiftly with construction of a series of colonial and Māori fortifications around the district. This included Willis’ Redoubt in Bulls (List No. 6233, about 200 metres from the site of the Bulls Fallen Soldiers’ Memorial). However, by the outset of the First World War Bulls had grown into a modest service town. The population of around 500 people had access to a state school, post and telegraph office and a handful of hotels and churches, a hall, library and a Masonic Lodge. The First World War New Zealand’s involvement with the First World War began on the 4 August 1914, when Britain declared war on Germany. The assassination of Archduke Ferdinand of Austro-Hungarian Empire was the spark that ignited a tinder box of tensions throughout Europe that had been developing for decades with nationalistic and imperialist aspirations, fuelling conflict on multiple fronts. From the outset the war was wide reaching and saw the emergence of cross-nation alliances which quickly established the opposing sides. The ties to Mother England and the notion of empire were still strong in New Zealand, and in the wake of the South African War, the country had become increasingly militaristic. The leap to mobilising an army of volunteers to take up Britain’s cause was not a big one to take. The rationales for supporting the war were both political and economic, New Zealand relying heavily on Britain for trade and the protection of northern hemisphere sea trading routes. Within a few months the first expeditionary force left New Zealand, landing in Egypt for training. They first saw action on the shores of the Gallipoli Peninsula from 25 April 1915. By the end of the year when the area was evacuated 2,779 New Zealanders had been killed. While the horrors of the Western Front in Europe were still to come, the impact of the disastrous Gallipoli campaign on New Zealand’s psyche proved profound, etching an enduring place in the nation’s history. The impact of the First World War on global politics, trade, economics, in fact all facets of life across most of the western world, was significant. For New Zealand, what remains most poignant and noteworthy in terms of societal impact was sheer number of those who died and were injured, among the other privations experienced by the soldiers who fought in the war. The portion of the male population who undertook active service overseas was 9.1 per cent or around 98,950 – this was nearly half the number of men in New Zealand who were of eligible age. Of these, 16.9 per cent or 16,697 died during the war, with 40 per cent becoming casualties. Few if any communities in New Zealand were left untouched and most individuals were impacted. Bulls’ response to the First World War Before the war even ended, the townsfolk of Bulls were looking to commemorate the sacrifices made by the fallen. The Gallipoli campaign had hit the small town hard, at least six locals losing their lives at Gallipoli between May and August 1915. In line with a nationwide movement to honour efforts of the Australian and New Zealand Army Corps (ANZAC) at Gallipoli, the Bulls and Districts Patriotic Society began organising a commemoration for the first anniversary on 25 April 1916. Accounts of the first Anzac Day parade through the town state that ‘[n]ever in the history of Bulls has an invitation been so well responded to’ with large crowds lining the streets. A parade headed by the Marton Brass Band marched from the school to the Town Hall. Behind the band were scouts and children from schools throughout the district, then returned service men (at least four wounded men had returned from the war), serving soldiers, and other community groups. The annual observance of the Anzac Day continued, and by the latter part of the decade moves were in train to create a more permanent monument to commemorate the war. The idea first surfaced in 1917 during plans to replace the town library, when it was mooted to build a memorial/fallen soldiers’ library. The motion was talked down as it was determined that ‘this was not the time for erecting memorials’ most likely because the war had not yet ended. Any discussion of First World War memorials cannot be made without reference to Anzac Day. Commemoration of Anzac Day preceded the building of most war memorials around New Zealand, but the two were inextricably linked: memorials became necessary places in the townscape, providing focus for the shared communal experience of the annual quasi-funerary ceremonies of Anzac Day. The New Zealand government had refused to repatriate the remains of service personnel who were buried overseas. The crippling logistics of repatriation aside, this had the effect of preventing loved ones the ability to enact traditional rituals and ceremonies associated with death. The spate of public monument building that followed the cessation of the First World War is in many ways part of an effort to provide a space where loss could be commemorated providing families, friends and colleagues a focus for their grief, the sacrifice enshrined in perpetuity in stone. These monuments to the war dead were, in many ways, proxy graves. The solemnity of the first Anzac Days set the tenor for all those to come. The devasting impact of the losses from the war imbued these commemorations with a funerary air, and later government commitments to formally observe Anzac Day via legislation (with a half day holiday, no hotels open, no horse racing), established an almost holy, sacred aura around the day. In Bulls, by the end of June 1919 it was felt the time was right for plans to proceed for commemorating the war. The conflict had left its mark on the psyche of the community - of the 152 or so connected with the district who had served in the war, twenty eight percent were killed. The deliberations of the Patriotic Society for the district suggested two memorials be constructed, one in Sanson, the other in Bulls. Both were to serve as memorials to men from the wider district, the Rangitīkei River to be the boundary for the respective list of names. Residents of Bulls held a meeting to consider erecting their memorial. After an evening’s deliberation, it was decided to dedicate the memorial solely to those who had fallen rather that the full list of service personnel. The Patriotic Society offered to contribute £250 to the project. It was also decided to erect another memorial in Bulls for all those who had served, the two projects being undertaken by two different committees, who were both tasked with finding suitable locations for the memorials. Much effort went into collecting money for memorials in the wider district, however it was not enough to cover the acquisition of land on which to place the memorials. In April 1920 a separate fund was established by the district War Relief Fund Committee, drawing on a special piece of wartime legislation that enabled land to be purchased from monies collected for the war effort. Reports note that by June 1920 the contract to build the memorial to the fallen had been started, and a site had been secured ‘opposite the Clifton Hall’, at the crossroads of High and Daniell Streets. A working party was held to clear the ground in preparation for re-fencing and the planting of a hedge. Reports of the planned memorial described it thus: ‘The memorial for the fallen will take the form of an Obelisk in polished N.Z grey granite. A New Zealand Memorial made of N. Z. stone for N.Z. heroes. It will stand 18ft high and the bottom step will be 15ft. square. Two steps above will be 10ft. square and 5ft. 9in. square, respectively. A concrete base 3ft 9in, square and 2ft. high, 2nd granite base 3ft square, 1ft 6in high, 1st granite base 2ft 10in square. Die (granite) 2ft square 3ft high. Cap 2ft 10in square. Obelisk shaft 6ft high 1ft. square. Beneath will be a hat, cross rifle and sword and a scroll of laurel leaves. The cost of this imposing structure is £245 with the lettering extra.’ The other memorial project also in train at the same time was broader in scope than the memorial to the fallen listing all those who had served in the First World War, including one woman. As was common during the construction of war memorials, while the monuments were being made, a call went out for the names of fallen and returned to be submitted to the Memorial Committee. This was meant to ensure the list was as complete as possible before work on the memorials’ inscriptions proceeded. By year end the foundations for the memorial to the fallen were laid, with the works completed just in time for Anzac Day 1921. The unveiling ceremony for the fallen soldiers’ monument on 25 April 1921 was a solemn affair, revealing a surprising amount about local feelings about commemorating the war. As the large crowd gathered remembrance cards were distributed to the relatives of the dead men, individually marked with the name of the deceased. Further underscoring the commemorative function of the occasion, women distributed rosemary sprigs (denoting remembrance), bound by patriotic red, white and blue ribbon. The relatives of the deceased and returned soldiers took reserved spaces nearest the monument, as did children, cadets and boy scouts. The main features of the programme were the religious consecration of the memorial, carried out by the Right Reverend Bishop Sprott, followed by a string of speeches and hymns. These speeches provide insight into the often-ambivalent opinions about the war. Dignitaries expressed mixed sentiments of pride and sorrow, noting that the war was fighting for justice, observing the status of memorials as landmarks of remembrance, and the inspirational potential for future generations that the example of ‘deeds done’ by the fallen would have. Conversely, it was noted that some in the community, especially returned soldiers, expressed cynicism about traditional stone memorials, feeling that funds would be better spent on supporting the surviving soldiers or the families of the deceased. The ceremony finished with the unveiling, carried out by Brigadier-General Meldrum (1865-1964), a Manawatū local who had led the Wellington Mounted Rifles at Gallipoli, eventually being appointed Brigadier General of New Zealand’s Mounted Rifle Brigade. Then several wreaths were laid, which included one to the nurses who lost their lives in the war. The ceremony moved to the library where further speeches followed, then the unveiling of roll of honour on memorial tablets either side of the library entrance. The ceremony finished with an afternoon tea at the YMCA accompanied by music from the local band. In the years that followed the memorial was an integral part of Anzac Day commemorations. Increasingly over time, the parade became more militaristic, especially during Second World War. With the creation of nearby Ohakea Airbase, Anzac Day commemorations were often supported by RNZAF personnel from the base: either the RNZAF band, a contingent of service personnel or a flyover from a plane. As well as the commemorative aspect to Anzac Day in Bulls, what was also apparent was a strong didactic focus on inspiring future generations to emulate the heroism exhibited by the fallen, and never forget the sacrifices made. From the first Anzac Day in 1916 up to the early years of Second World War children and youth played a significant part in the Bulls Anzac Day proceedings. The local school was often asked to arrange for pupils to attend the service. Cadets and staff from nearby Flock House (List No. 7576) were also invited and were prominent in the parade, staff sometimes leading and marshalling the parade, and the cadets marching directly behind returned soldiers. It is not surprising that strong ties were formed between Flock House and Bulls township with regards to commemorating World War One. The homestead and surrounding land at Flock House, eight kilometres from Bulls, was purchased in 1923 by the New Zealand Sheep Owners Union as a part of a scheme to benefit the children of British seaman who had served in World War One. The plan was to use the house and farm for educational purposes by training sons of the seamen to be farmers. The house became a ‘living memorial’, the commemorative and imperialistic motives of the Trust that initiated the project apparent in reports of the time. The connections with Bulls were such that twenty-two names of British Flock House pupils who lost their lives in World War Two were added to the Bulls Fallen Soldiers’ Memorial in 1960. The Bulls Fallen Soldiers’ Memorial continues to play a central role in the commemorations of Anzac Day for the district. It has been a centre piece of the WW100 commemorations in Bulls, and Anzac Day commemorations are well attended. The meaning and messaging around the commemoration of Anzac Day has changed over time. In an increasingly secular society, the enduring nature of Anzac Day observance may be the only tradition or ritual that could be deemed to be truly national, where a cross generational gathering occurs, with similar commemorations carried out in similar ways across the country on the same day. Reflections on national identity, nationhood, as well as the sacrifice of the war dead are commonplace.

Current Description The Bulls Fallen Soldiers’ Memorial sits on an irregular shaped, four-sided section at the crossroads of High Street (State Highway 1) and Daniell Streets, Bulls. This corner section is delineated from the footpath by a row of slim pioneer red bollards, and two ornate street lights (two lamps per light), painted the same colour. Improvement works sometime after 1987 have seen the addition of roughly circular paved area (pavers set in herringbone pattern) extending from two access paths up to the base of the memorial – this course of paving now obscures the original base step. Beyond the paved area there are two small sections of lawn, and a raised garden bed extending from the High Street frontage, along the boundary with the adjacent section for about a third of its length. A neatly clipped low hedge defines the edge of the paved area behind the monument, and beyond this is a row of original plantings which mark the northern and south-western edges of the property. Other amenity features in the area include six wooden bench seats placed in front of the low hedge. A flagpole has also been installed, to the east of the monument. The monument itself, remains almost exactly as it was when it was installed in 1921. It is positioned offset to the road, so the front inscribed face points south-east to the junction of High and Daniell Streets. The stepped concrete base is painted white. Originally three steps were present, now only two sections of the base are visible. It is unclear if the original base step is still extant under the paving. Atop the concrete steps, the base consists of a lower concrete section below two granite bases. Above this sits the ‘die’, the monument’s main body, where the inscriptions have been carved. The names of 72 men who died in the First and Second World Wars are inscribed on the memorial: the south-west and north-east faces feature 44 names of the 1914-1918 dead and the 28 names of the 1939-45 fallen are listed on the north-west face. The die is topped by a cap, and the obelisk sits on top of this. A decorative element in the form of a soldiers’ lemon squeezer hat, over crossed gun and sword (point down denoting peace) with crossed fern fronds, was carved into the lower margins of south east face of the obelisk. Later additions to the monument have seen names carved on the first and second granite bases. Commemorating World War 1 – form, iconography and inscription Monuments to the First World War dead are in many ways, proxy graves - public commemorative places for loved ones who had no body to bury. The 500 or so public monuments across New Zealand commemorating that war are a mix of forms and styles, but the overwhelming majority are some type of ornamental memorial, as opposed to utilitarian structures that would dominate post-Second World War commemorations. Around 30 per cent of all First World War monuments took the form of a plinth and obelisk - a four-sided pillar, terminating in a pyramidal point – like the Bulls memorial. The choice of an obelisk is prudent – they were a common form of grave marker, readily obtained through existing monumental mason catalogues, and were easily sized to fit budgets. In this context the Bulls Fallen Soldiers’ Memorial is representative of war memorials in New Zealand. Inscriptions and iconography Like many other First World War memorials, mention of both the Empire and the nation is prominent on the Bulls Fallen Soldiers’ Memorial. The main inscription heading is ‘For King and Country’, with Christian sentiment also present (for the glory of God). The inscriptions parallel traditional British and Christian sentiments and speak to a clear linking of local commemorations to imperialist ideals. The names of the fallen on the monument are headed by the common phrase ‘lest we forget’, expressing a desire to remember the sacrifice made by the men on the memorial. Like funerary monuments of the time, memorials erected post-First World War are laden with symbolism and meaning. On one hand, part of the monument’s function is a focus for grieving; on the other an articulation of pride in sacrifice for a just cause. Besides the necessary function as a physical place for public grieving, the symbolism and inscription on memorials contributed to sense-making as well, perpetuating societal views on the war. These meanings are often lost on contemporary audiences, this in no small part due to the ambivalent mix of monument form, iconography, carving and inscription that is present on memorials. For example, consideration of the Bulls Fallen Soldiers’ Memorial reveals this mix of themes: Remembrance and mourning – the obelisk and inscription (lest we forget; to the memory); Militarism – hat, gun, sword; National pride – ferns, hat, New Zealand granite; Imperialism – inscription (for King and Country); Triumph – obelisk; crossed gun and sword (point down, peace /victory); Righteous cause – inscription (for the glory of God; for King and Country). There are a couple of points that mark out the Bulls Fallen Soldiers’ Memorial as different. There are distinct leanings towards ideas of nationhood evident in physical aspects of the memorial, although this may be more correctly thought of as marking New Zealand identity in the context of the Empire. The carved relief on the front face of the obelisk is of a lemon squeezer army hat, above a crossed gun and sheathed sword. Below this are two crossed fern fronds. The distinctly New Zealand symbolism (hat and ferns) was not a common feature of First World War memorials. Initial plans suggest that a scroll of laurel was to be carved below the weapons, not ferns. The Bulls Fallen Soldiers’ Memorial was also made in New Zealand granite, a comment made in the paper stating ‘[a] New Zealand Memorial made of N.Z. stone for N.Z. heroes.’