Not all war memorials are sober cenotaphs. Peter Dragicevich takes a tour of some of the more unusual and useful memorials scattered around Auckland.
If you need a demonstration of the trauma that World War I inflicted on New Zealand, you need only ponder our abundance of war memorials. Even the smallest towns have them, often with lists of the fallen which seem entirely out of proportion to the size of the settlement. WWI was a conflict that left a staggering 6 per cent of the entire population injured or dead, so it's no surprise that the post-war mood was for monuments with gravitas that respectfully reflected the collective grief. Mostly this took the form of sombre plinths and obelisks, and it's around these that many of us will have gathered to see in the dawn tomorrow.
Although they may get a bit misty-eyed on Anzac Day morning, Kiwi veterans are, by and large, a practical bunch. But it wasn't until after WWII that projects that memorialised the dead by providing something useful for the living became more common.
One early example that demonstrated that respectfulness and recreation could be successfully combined was the Auckland War Memorial Museum. Completed in 1929, it was designed by Grierson, Aimer & Draffin, an architectural firm helmed by three former servicemen, two of whom had been wounded at Passchendaele.
You certainly couldn't argue that this magnificent building is lacking in gravitas. Inscriptions and bas-reliefs on the exterior clearly signal its memorial status, while Māori motifs are cleverly incorporated into the ornamental plasterwork inside. The entire top floor is devoted to "War and Remembrance", with its centrepiece, the WWI Hall of Memories, serving as a secular shrine. This space has the grace of a cathedral, complete with stained glass, a marble altar and the names of hundreds of fallen Aucklanders etched into its walls.