Today is Anzac Day. For those of you who are international readers, Anzac day is the day that Australia and New Zealand commemorates all of our countrymen who have served in our armed forces.
Whilst having lunch at work a while ago, someone from my company came out and said that they didn’t think that Anzac Day should be a holiday. Something to do about how WWI was all about politics and we shouldn’t celebrate it.
To be honest, whilst I like this person a lot, I was slightly disgusted with this comment. Anzac Day is not about celebrating the politics of war. It is about taking time to reflect that there are people in life with far more guts than I would ever have, that gave up their youth to go and do their bit for their country.
My Great Grandfather was a Captain in WW1, My Grampy, at the age of 16, was in the first wave of troops that landed on Normandy on D-Day. My Great Uncle George was captured by the Japanese and died in a POW camp (That one from The Bridge on the River Kwai, its name escapes me). My Uncle Peter was drafted into Vietnam, and spent his service shovelling dead bodies.
Anzac Day (even though my Father’s family all fought for England) is about saying thank you to them.
in 2008 I walked along the beach at Gallipoli, and the tranquillity, beauty and harshness of the landscape moved me to tears. What moved me even more was seeing a young Turkish man, painstakingly weeding the grass by hand by a grave of an Australian Soldier, aged 18.
For whatever fucked up or genuine reason a country goes to war. Politics has no business on ANZAC Day.
At the going down of the sun, and in the morning, we will remember them.
Lest We Forget.
I agree with you. I also see it as a Birth of a Nation moment.
ReplyDeleteI think you'd like this book as a good telling about some of the stories of Gallipoli.
Birds Without Wings - Louis de Bernières
R