ANZAC Day. We always try to make it to the Dawn Service at Robe at the War Memorial near Front Beach.
Rugging up against the pre dawn chill, we make our way, under the glow of the street lights, down the nearly deserted main street and gather at the War Memorial with the other Robe locals and visitors to pay our respects.
The solitary police car with lights flashing in the semi darkness, drives slowly down the main street, leading the parade. I love it when the lone piper is out front, the haunting strains of the bagpipes sounding incredible in the stillness of the morning. They march. A small group. Tall and proud. When they’re not there to march anymore, a family member steps into the empty space and marches proudly for the missing digger.
They gather around the memorial as the sun peeks over the horizon, lighting up the sky in a brilliant display and lay their wreaths. Someone recites the ‘Ode of Remembrance’, which always makes me cry. We have a little giggle at the irony when someone presses ‘play’ on the CD player (just upgraded from last year from the old tape recorder) and think how awesome it would be to have a real bugle to play ‘The Last Post’ but then when I hear it, even through the CD player, it still makes me cry!
During the following minute’s silence, with the sound of nothing but the waves gently lapping against the shore, you could literally be on the other side of the world at ANZAC Cove. The minute’s silence ends and with the sun well and truly on it’s way up, the last few speeches are made and everyone disbands. Some head to the RSL for ‘special coffee’ and two-up. We always head to the local bakery for coffee and bacon+egg sandwiches.
To all the Diggers who fought for us, are fighting for us and who will fight for us in the future,
Lest We Forget.
Last year (2011) on our Greek/Turkish Odyssey we decided that as Australians, it was our duty to visit Gallipoli. So glad we did.
Anzac Cove, Gallipoli (‘Gelibolu’ in Turkish) was a beautifully serene and peaceful place. You couldn’t even begin to imagine that such a beautiful place could have seen such scenes of horror and devastation during the Allied landing in 1915.
Directly opposite Anzac Cove, was terrain similar to this. How the ANZACS did it is beyond me.
The great Turkish leader Attaturk, wrote this tribute to the ANZACS, the monument now overlooking ANZAC Cove. Bet you can’t read it without getting misty eyed. I can’t.
Our guide described Attaturk as ‘a very kind man’. I reckon he must have been.
Everything is beautifully kept by the Turks. The various memorials around the battlefields are places for reflection. No music is allowed, or kids running and playing and it’s not allowed to be used as a picnic area. It’s sacred to the Turks as well as the Aussies and Kiwis. Which is how it should be.
And right on cue, a couple of cloud formations rolled across the sky.
Flowers by Margie White, Budz, Millicent
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