ANZAC Day

Ninety-nine years ago, on the 25th of April, 1915, Australian and New Zealand forces landed on the Gallipoli Peninsula, in Turkey.  Most of the young men who landed had never seen combat before.  Their allies, the British, had declared war nearly a year before.  Half a world away, the young Aussies had signed up to help, with the hope of seeing the world, experiencing adventure.  The battle at Gallipoli, however, was a drawn out, bloody failure for the allied forces in World War I, with huge losses on both sides.  And although the ANZAC forces (Australian and New Zealand Army Corps) were allied with the winning side in the war, nearly one hundred years later, the 25th of April is still remembered with sadness and solemnity as a time to honor those who gave their lives in service. 

I hadn't heard about ANZAC day before we arrived in Australia.  However, I've come to learn that it is one of the most important Australian holidays.  We live a 15 minute walk from the Shrine of Remembrance in Melbourne.  I've written before about that building.  It was dedicated in 1934, built to help ease the ache of a nation that had lost one fifth of its young people in far away countries in the Great War -- the war to end all wars.  The monument was to stand forever as a reminder of service and sacrifice.  Their motto:  Lest we forget. 

Every year on the 25th of April, the Shrine hosts a dawn service at 6:00am.  Since we only live a fifteen minute walk away, I wanted to participate.  To also remember. 

I went with Jonathan, one of his friends from school and the friend's mother.  We left our house at 5:15 am.  As we arrived, large busses full of people were pulling into the nearby roads, and the sidewalks were packed with people in the cold and dark.  I read later that around 60,000 people attended.  As for us, we found a place to stand in the crowd with a view of the front of the Shrine several hundred meters away, near the flags (British, New Zealand, Australian) hung at half mast. 

At 5:45am the pre-service started, with a voice telling the stories of a few of the people we were honoring.  The official ceremony began at 6:00 sharp, with a minute of complete silence.  And 60,000 people gave their offering of silence to the pre-dawn starlight. 

After that, there were words spoken and music offered.  I knew the hymns:  Abide With Me, and Be Still My Soul.  Towards the end, they sang the national anthems of New Zealand and Australia, and a pipe band played. 

One of the speakers asked us to think of ten friends, to represent those who went to war in 1914.  Of those ten, two did not return.   Four more returned permanently injured: blind, missing a leg, etc.  One more was mentally unstable.  They were known as the lost generation.  The young men had set out seeking adventure.  But one year became two, which became four.  There was no adventure.  There was death and pain and sickness, influenza.  And grieving families at home.  And that was the end, said the speaker, of blind patriotism in Australia.

The end of blind patriotism. 

The Australians have fought in every major armed conflict in the world since 1914, and the shrine now remembers them, too.  For example, at the base of the shrine burns an eternal flame, to remember those killed in World War II.  ANZAC Day is not just about those who died at Gallipoli.  It is also to honor veterans who have served and sacrificed since then, and who serve and sacrifice now.  But now, they serve less blindly.  Their choice to serve must be honored at least as much.  Maybe more.

What does the US have that compares?  On Memorial Day in May we think of our dead, and on Veterans' day in November.  In some places in the US there are marches and ceremonies, but this was the first I have attended.  In contrast, such dawn services were held last Friday all over Australia.  The children of Australia learned about Gallipoli on Thursday in school, even in Jonathan's class, in fourth year of primary school.  Lest we forget.

I've walked the battlefields of the American Civil War, reflected with solemnity of the lives and deaths of thousands at Gettysburg, their sacrifices honored in the words of Abraham Lincoln.  In Washington DC there are monuments and memorials, built to honor and remind.

And yet I was impressed at the nearness that the Australians hold ANZAC day.  They seem to hold it close, to follow the instructions given them by their grandparents and great-grandparents and great-great-grandparents.  Those who died in the first world war are now several generations past.  They would have been long dead by now anyway.  But their sacrifice is still remembered carefully, and honored carefully, in the pre-dawn starlight.  By 60,000 people of all ages with bowed heads in the cold and dark, offering their complete silence in remembrance. 

Lest we forget.