Part One — The Lead-Up

A field of crosses on the foreshore

Four days before Anzac Day, on a soft golden afternoon in Windsor Reserve, the Devonport Field of Remembrance is already in place. Hundreds of small white crosses stretch out across the lawn, framed by nearby pohutukawas and looking out beyond to the Waitematā Harbour. Each cross topped with a red poppy, each bearing a name. The Field has been a Devonport tradition since 2013, when it was first laid out to commemorate local men who served and died in World War One. In the years since, it has expanded to include Devonport servicepeople from every conflict that followed. It’s run jointly by the Devonport-Takapuna Local Board and the Devonport RSA, which has been part of this community since 1927.

Walking through the rows is a strange and quiet thing. Some crosses carry a small black-and-white photograph — a young face, often impossibly young. Others just a name, a regiment, a date. There’s a plaque near the entrance with an invitation: visitors are welcome to walk among the crosses, to lay a personal tribute, to acknowledge someone of their own at the marker for the conflict in which they served. It also carries a particularly moving quote.

Part Two — Anzac Day Morning

Why we skipped the dawn service

Let me be honest: a 5:30am dawn service was never going to happen for us. Small children and pre-dawn starts don’t negotiate, however good the intentions. So we did what a lot of families do on a Saturday morning: headed to Devonport for a playground and a coffee. Except this Saturday was Anzac Day, and Devonport had other plans. The roads through the village were closed. Parking was gone. We did a slow loop, saw the signs posted about the 10:30am parade, and went off in search of an alternative — which is how we ended up at one of the best playgrounds I’ve found on the Shore.

The hidden gem: Allenby Reserve

Allenby Reserve is a short three-minute drive from Devonport proper, tucked between residential streets and the Waitemata Golf Club. The playground is genuinely fantastic — the kind that makes a child stop talking for ten full minutes — and it’s surrounded by mature trees. When we arrived, a pair of tūī were having an extended morning chat in the canopy above us. There were maybe three other families there the whole time, which after the road closures of the village felt like we’d stumbled onto a secret. We stayed an hour. Then, with the parade about to start, we drove back, parked at the bottom of Mt Victoria (plenty of space, and an easy walk down into the village), and joined the gathering crowd outside the Devonport Library. If you’ve got a few minutes spare, the view of the city skyline across the harbour from the base of Mt Vic is well worth a pause before you walk down.

The parade and the service

The Belmont Intermediate choir was practising one of their songs as we arrived, voices rising over the chatter of the crowd. Veterans were being shown to their seats beneath the bronze soldier statue, with wreaths already laid against the chairs in front of them. People filtered in steadily — families, older couples, a lot of dogs on leads — but it never tipped into overwhelming. There’s a generosity about the way Devonport does this. It feels like a village turning out for itself.

The parade itself was led by a marching pipe band, kilts and all, and didn’t go on too long — a real mercy when you’re managing a small person’s attention span. Behind the pipers came naval cadets carrying flags, then veterans, then more service personnel. The whole thing made its way down to the war memorial in steady time.

Predictably, patience ran out at about the time the speeches started. The Windsor Reserve playground is right there — across from the service area — and it had been quietly filling up with kids the whole morning. I suspect a lot of parents had made the same calculation. By the time we got there it was mobbed. That’s the beauty of it: you can stand at the edge of the playground and still hear the service. The village is small enough that you don’t really need to choose.

Two moments stayed with me. The first was the choir — those young voices carrying out across the square while the crowd stood still. The second was the flyover. Five vintage aircraft came in low over the rooftops in formation, contrails streaking the blue sky, then peeled apart and dispersed. The whole village tilted its head back at the same time. There’s something about a flyover that cuts through everything else and makes the day land.

Practical notes for next year

If you’re thinking about heading to Devonport for Anzac Day with kids in tow, here’s what worked for us. Skip the dawn service guilt. The 10:30am parade and morning service is a perfectly good way to mark the day and a far gentler ask of small humans. Park at the bottom of Mt Victoria — there’s loads of space there and an easy downhill walk into the village. Bring something to do at Windsor Reserve playground, because they’ll need it. And if you arrive early and the playground’s already packed, Allenby Reserve is your secret weapon. Also worth knowing: the Field of Remembrance goes up about a week before Anzac Day and stays for several days afterwards. It’s quiet, it’s free, and at golden hour it’s one of the most beautiful and grounding things you can see in Auckland. If you can’t make the day itself, go and walk through the rows another afternoon. It is, to borrow Captain Mellish’s words, holy ground.