ANZAC DAY

A BIG DAY IN AUSTRALIA is April 25th.
I have written once before about this event in the life of Australians and New Zealanders, so forgive me if I am repeating myself.  You most likely will not recall the earlier posting, so I am pretty safe.

ANZAC Day is hard to explain.  I could say that it is like America's Memorial Day and Veterans' Day combined but this would be misleading, other than it is about honoring the sacrifice of soldiers who served in wars, especially those who died.  My Uncle Norton was one such.  Three years older than my father, he enlisted and went off to fight in France after the beginning of the First World War.  He wrote his brother from England just before he embarked for 'The Front' and was killed two weeks later.  My father also enlisted, when of age, and saw service in France just before the end of hostilities.  Two brothers and two very different war experiences.

The word, 'ANZAC', stands for Australian and New Zealand Army Corps.  Together the two nations went off to fight Europe's war.  Never having started a war it may seem odd that Aussies and Kiwis should be so enthusiastic about going off to war.  But those were the days of the British Empire and we all wanted to help out the Mother Country.  Australian Army soldiers got to be called 'Diggers', and still are.  Maybe because of all the trenches that had to be dug and maybe because of the work of sappers who dug tunnels under the opposing trenches, filled them up with high explosive, and then blew up the enemy positions.  Nowadays, 'Digger' also refers to a hard working type who battles against adversity.

Well, it is a big day beginning with dawn memorial services from the smallest hamlet to the big cities, with lots of marching through the streets (not just soldiers, but the children and grandchildren can also march in their parents' or grandparents' units).  Then there are the unit reunion dinners at the end of the day, tending to be an occasion for intoxication.  I used to drive my father to his reunion dinner so he could take a taxi home, likely as not a bit 'blotto' (Aussie term for 'drunk').  At these dinners, men and women who served can recall experiences and relive moments they are loth to share with those who did not go to war. One cannot explain the experience of war and it cannot be understood by those who have not know that experience.  They are careful to remember their dead companions in the words:
"They shall not grow old as we who are left grow old,
"Age will not weary them, nor the years condemn,
"At the going down of the sun, and in the morning,
"We will remember them.

The experience of war forged the culture of 'looking after your mates' that is the basis of what others might consider socialism and forms an important core element of the Aussie and Kiwi view of life.  This remains true even following the massive immigrations following the Second World War. No longer do we look to Mother England with almost half of Australians having come from other countries, though we still do have the Queen and her representatives (chosen by the Government of the day at the Federal and State levels), her Governors.

Although Australian and New Zealand service men and women have fought in many theatres of war, the signal experience was on April 25 1915 when the ANZAC Expeditionary Force attempted to seize the Gallipoli Peninsula, overlooking the Dardanelles Strait and blocking access to the Black Sea.  Conceived by Winston Churchill this was to be a secret operation.  Unfortunately the Turks got wind of it and gave our troops a fair pasting when they arrived.   After difficult weeks of fighting and heavy losses, the force withdrew overnight, quite a military masterpiece, and the Turks awoke to find their enemy gone.

As can often be so, war breeds respect.  ANZAC day is also a special day in Turkey.  It is also celebrated in French towns in memory of Australian and New Zealand troops who fought in their environs.  My uncle is buried in one of the vast cemeteries in France.

Then there are Anzac biscuits (cookies, if you will).  Cooked up at home and sent to the troops as part of food parcels, they have become another benefit of ANZAC.  Many thanks to Gail, at the local (excellent) coffee house, who cooked me up a perfect dozen or so for ANZAC Day.