Today is the 99th anniversary of the signing – at 11am on the 11th day of the 11th month – of the armistice which ended World War I.
My maternal grandfather served with the New Zealand Army.
Mum said he never talked about the war and buried his medals in his garden.
We got his records from the War Archives and found his occupation was farmhand and that he looked after the horses in Egypt.
A bronze war horse by artist Matt Gauldie to acknowledge the 10,000 New Zealand horses that served in WW1 will be unveiled at Memorial Park, Hamilton at 11am this morning.
Homepaddock 
At the end of the WWI the soldiers were ordered to get rid of their horses by any means, they were not allowed to be sent back to Australia because of quarantine regulations, i.e. fears they might bring back tuberculosis or anthrax or whatever to infect the country’s herds of livestock. Many of the horses were sold of course, but the Light Horsemen serving in Palestine did not want to leave or sell their horses to the Arab population of Palestine because they thought the Arabs were very cruel to their animals. A case of double standards really, as they’d just put their horses through the horrors of modern warfare where many were killed and maimed. How cruel was that?
Anyway, rather than leave their horses in Palestine, the majority of the Light Horsemen chose to shoot them. Generally speaking you didn’t shoot your own horse, your best mate did, and vice versa.
Immortalized in the sad song by Eric Bogle.
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