Today (25th April) is Anzac Day, a time when Australia remembers those who fought in the wars. It originally started as a rememberance for Gallipoli, one of the many disasterous campaigns of World War I. Hundreds of thousand of brave young lives were lost as part of an ill-conceived and poorly executed landing on the Turkish shore followed by a protracted 9 month campaign in the most terrible of circumstances. It was one of the first battles of the newly formed Australian & New Zealand Army Corps (the ANZACs), and in some ways it's seen as the time that Australia became it's own country despite independence being achieved 16 years earlier. Even the local term for soldiers (Diggers) stems from those days.
ANZAC day has a similar resonance over here as Remembrance Day does in the UK, although there is also more of a sense of patiotrism and 'matehood', a sense that there are not many people in this exposed and isolated country and that at times we will all need each other.
There are well attended services at every war memorial in every town and suburb and marches through most towns & cities. I always tried to go to Remembrance Day in the UK and I've continued to go to ANZAC day services over here. They are different in some ways - most services are at or near dawn so there is an early morning freshness and normally fog burning off revealing a deep blue sky. Some of the campaigns are different - Burma, Korea, Vietnam. There is more talk of happiness and solidarity from the pulpit, less of duty and empire. The birdsong is different and you seek the shade of palm trees instead of trying to find shelter from the rain under oaks and chestnuts. But when the Last Post sounds, the flags are lowered and the minutes silence begins I still cry.
ANZAC day has a similar resonance over here as Remembrance Day does in the UK, although there is also more of a sense of patiotrism and 'matehood', a sense that there are not many people in this exposed and isolated country and that at times we will all need each other.
There are well attended services at every war memorial in every town and suburb and marches through most towns & cities. I always tried to go to Remembrance Day in the UK and I've continued to go to ANZAC day services over here. They are different in some ways - most services are at or near dawn so there is an early morning freshness and normally fog burning off revealing a deep blue sky. Some of the campaigns are different - Burma, Korea, Vietnam. There is more talk of happiness and solidarity from the pulpit, less of duty and empire. The birdsong is different and you seek the shade of palm trees instead of trying to find shelter from the rain under oaks and chestnuts. But when the Last Post sounds, the flags are lowered and the minutes silence begins I still cry.
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