ANZAC Day

Anzac Day was April 25th. It is Australia's equivalent to Memorial Day. Except that ANZAC Day is a major deal, and I mean major as in it competes with Christmas as the most significant national holiday. Major. I suppose The Vietnam War ruined Memorial Day for the U.S. So it was interesting for me to experience a nation commemorating a military action with such complete and absolute reverence.

ANZAC stands for Australian and New Zealand Army Corps and April 25th marks the anniversary of the first major military action fought by the ANZACs during WWI. They were instructed to land on the Gallipoli peninsula to open the Dardanelles Straights for the Allied Navy. According to most, it was a terrible plan and doomed to fail from the start. An estimated 9,000 ANZACS died.

I saw so much pomp and circumstance walking around Brisbane on ANZAC day I could almost imagine the war had just ended. I half expected to be able to find Monterey Jack cheese now that rationing was over. Seriously, tear down the black-out curtains and pin on a red poppy! It's incredible how Australia has kept this spirit of remembrance alive so many years after the war's end. For an entire week I could not turn a corner without finding myself in the middle of a parade or candle lighting ceremony.  Every school had an ANZAC day assembly and there were countless ceremonies in public parks, churches, and anywhere more than one person might happen to be. Followed, depending on the time of day, by tea or a sausage sizzle. It is a country of social extraverts after all.

During Rosie's school's ANZAC day ceremony both Australia's and New Zealand's national anthems were sung. After one minute of silence "The Rouse" was played (signifying waking up to a new day) then the speaker said "Lest we forget", and in unison everyone repeated "Lest we forget". Well, everyone but me, and I am assuming Rosie, (we weren't sitting together). But now we know. 

There were several odes and a poem but I can't tell you what they were as Nola was extremely anxious to be elsewhere. As only four year olds and dogs in a vet's waiting room can be. So I was a little distracted. The school's Chorale sang with the Australian Army Band, the flag was raised and lowered several times, and then I was finally able to put Nola out of her misery.

On ANZAC day itself there were dawn (the time of the landing at Gallipoli) ceremonies in each and every neighborhood of Brisbane. Seriously, how amazing is that? I woke up early and walked over to Keating Park (without my four year old) for Indooroopilly's Memorial Service. As I came down the hill I wondered what I would find. I arrived a good 5 minutes before it started and was surprised at the number of people there. I found a place to edge in beside a tree, a three generation family and this handsome bagpipe player.

I listened to everyone sing Australia's national anthem, "Advance Australia Fair", several hymns including "Lest We Forget" and "Royal Hymn", I watched as school kids and the elderly placed wreaths on the Memorial Stone and stood stock still as my hunky neighbor played his bagpipes. There was an address by a young Cadet Under Officer and a prayer and benediction from Father Michael Chiplin. When the ceremony concluded people flowed to the Memorial Stone to take pictures and talk with their neighbors. I eavesdropped as best I could. Both little girls in this picture are being told by their dads about the sacrifices the Defense Forces and their families made.  

I was struck by how many parents were there with their young kids talking about what ANZAC day means to them. The ANZACS who fought at Gallipoli really are not forgotten. And clearly this under populated island nation never will forget them. How they faced the Gallipoli challenge is said to have awakened Australia's national identity, "a discovery of ourselves" as father Chiplin explained. I see it first hand and let me tell you, I like what they discovered. And their reverence is moving.

While I'm on the subject of remembrance, I'm turning up my stereo to listen to the Bee Gees, again, because I can't get enough. They actually lived here in Brisbane in the 50s and 60s, in a poor neighborhood where the airport now stands. You will have, no doubt, heard that Robin Gibb passed away last week. Much to my listening enjoyment, the Brisbane radio stations are remembering him, lest we forget.