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What does ANZAC Day mean to you?

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Didaksgoal Cancer



Joined: 12 Mar 2004


PostPosted: Wed Apr 23, 2014 11:30 pm
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Some brilliant, touching, stories in this thread.

What the day means to me:

In an ANZAC sense.................sacrifice. Sacrifice for your Country, sacrifice for your Family, and, for many, sacrifice of life and sanity. An absolute sh!t situation for any human being. For a person to be put in a situation of WAR, and knowing, possibly, your next step is your last, and what that must bring to your being, I can only imagine the horror and mind turmoil.

So, on ANZAC day, I remember the "sacrifice" that was/is made by many.

There was a thing on the radio a couple of days ago about the men returning from Afghanistan..........and the extremely high statistic of suicide. Very sad. Support services and DVA need to get on top of this ASAP. If it's good enough for this/our government to put men and women in the situation of WAR, then it can certainly take care of its soldier's after WAR, and they do, but more needs to be done.


In a Football sense....................I just want to beat the Dons. Nothing like an ANZAC day victory.......apart from a good final or a Premiership win!!!! Wink
Also, I like to reflect on that FKNG umpire who paid the the non mark and 50 against Anthony Rocca in the 2009 ANZAC game in the last quarter. It will sh!t me to my last breath. The umps screwed another Collingwood game, again! What a woeful, horrific decision that was from a top level umpire....FC!


Go The Pies!
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Piesnchess 

piesnchess


Joined: 09 Jun 2008


PostPosted: Thu Apr 24, 2014 1:05 am
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I will be marching for my late dad, six year WW2 vet, and for my three great uncles, all killed in the first world war, on the somme. My late grandad, was at Gallipoli, and was gassed on the somme, he told me of the horrors of war. My family never really got over that, my late grandmother, dads mum, sure didn't, losing three of her bros. But, I do worry a bit about the trend the day seems to be taking, too much flag waving and jingoism, nationalism, I just wonder if all these young people I see draped in the flag, really KNOW of the horrors of war, the hell of it, the sheer waste of it all, it all seems to be sanitized now by a media beat up, and politicians, glorifying war, not speaking of its horrors. I just wonder, do young people really know the truth of what really happened at Gallipoli ? And I worry that next year, the centernary, it will be turned into some gigantic nationalistic circus event, with rabid shock jocks going nuts over it. Sorry if I upset some on here, but I feel really strongly about this, the day should be observed with dignity and reverence, not with jingoistic rubbish that glorifies war, ala the Murdoch press and shock jocks like neil Mitchell and alan jones. Anyway, end of rant, and Lest we forget. Oh yes, and go PIes.
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stui magpie Gemini

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Joined: 03 May 2005
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PostPosted: Thu Apr 24, 2014 8:23 pm
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Not a personal thing but I thought I'd share it. Larry Pickering put this on Facebook.

Quote:
THE ANZAC ON THE WALL
I wandered thru a country town, 'cos I had some time to spare,
And went into an antique shop to see what was in there.
Old Bikes and pumps and kero lamps, but hidden by it all,
A photo of a soldier boy – an Anzac on the Wall.
'The Anzac have a name?' I asked. The old man answered 'No'.
The ones who could have told me mate, have passed on long ago.
The old man kept on talking and, according to his tale,
The photo was unwanted junk bought from a clearance sale.
'I asked around', the old man said, 'but no-one knows his face,
He's been on that wall twenty years... Deserves a better place.
For some-one must have loved him, so it seems a shame somehow.'
I nodded in agreement and then said, 'I'll take him now.'
My nameless digger's photo, well it was a sorry sight
A cracked glass pane and a broken frame - I had to make it right
To prise the photo from its frame I took care just in case,
Cause only sticky paper held the cardboard back in place.
I peeled away the faded screed and much to my surprise,
Two letters and a telegram appeared before my eyes
The first reveals my Anzac's name, and regiment of course
John Mathew Francis Stuart - of Australia's own Light Horse.
This letter written from the front... My interest now was keen
This note was dated August seventh 1917
'Dear Mum, I'm at Khalasa Springs not far from the Red Sea
They say it's in the Bible - looks like a Billabong to me.
'My Kathy wrote I'm in her prayers... she's still my bride to be
I just can't wait to see you both, you're all the world to me.
And Mum you'll soon meet Bluey, last month they shipped him out
I told him to call on you when he's up and about.'
'That bluey is a larrikin, and we all thought it funny
He lobbed a Turkish hand grenade into the CO's dunny.
I told you how he dragged me wounded, in from no man's land
He stopped the bleeding, closed the wound, with only his bare hand.'
'Then he copped it at the front from some stray shrapnel blast
It was my turn to drag him in and I thought he wouldn't last.
He woke up in hospital, and nearly lost his mind
Cause out there on the battlefield he'd left one leg behind.'
'He's been in a bad way Mum, he knows he'll ride no more
Like me he loves a horse's back, he was a champ before.
So Please Mum can you take him in, he's been like my own brother
Raised in a Queensland orphanage he' s never known a mother.'
But Struth, I miss Australia Mum, and in my mind each day
I am a mountain cattleman on high plains far away.
I'm mustering white-faced cattle, with no camel's hump in sight
And I waltz my Matilda by a campfire every night
I wonder who rides Billy, I heard the pub burnt down
I'll always love you and please say hooroo to all in town'.
The second letter I could see, was in a lady's hand
An answer to her soldier son there in a foreign land.
Her copperplate was perfect, the pages neat and clean
It bore the date, November 3rd 1917.
'T'was hard enough to lose your Dad, without you at the war
I'd hoped you would be home by now - each day I miss you more'
'Your Kathy calls around a lot since you have been away
To share with me her hopes and dreams about your wedding day.
And Bluey has arrived - and what a godsend he has been
We talked and laughed for days about the things you've done and seen'
'He really is a comfort, and works hard around the farm,
I read the same hope in his eyes that you won't come to harm.
McConnell's kids rode Billy, but suddenly that changed.
We had a violent lightning storm, and it was really strange.'
'Last Wednesday, just on midnight, not a single cloud in sight,
It raged for several minutes, it gave us all a fright.
It really spooked your Billy - and he screamed and bucked and reared
And then he rushed the sliprail fence, which by a foot he cleared'
'They brought him back next afternoon, but something's changed I fear
It's like the day you brought him home, for no one can get near.
Remember when you caught him with his black and flowing mane?
Now Horse breakers fear the beast that only you can tame,'
'That's why we need you home son' - then the flow of ink went dry-
This letter was unfinished, and I couldn't work out why.
Until I started reading, the letter number three
A yellow telegram delivered news of tragedy,
Her son killed in action - oh - what pain that must have been
The same date as her letter - 3rd November 1917
This letter which was never sent, became then one of three
She sealed behind the photo's face - the face she longed to see.
And John's home town's old timers - children when he went to war
Would say no greater cattleman had left the town before.
They knew his widowed mother well - and with respect did tell
How when she lost her only boy she lost her mind as well.
She could not face the awful truth, to strangers she would speak
'My Johnny's at the war you know, he's coming home next week.'
They all remembered Bluey he stayed on to the end.
A younger man with wooden leg became her closest friend.
And he would go and find her when she wandered old and weak
And always softly say 'yes dear - John will be home next week.'
Then when she died Bluey moved on, to Queensland some did say.
I tried to find out where he went, but don't know to this day.
And Kathy never wed - a lonely spinster some found odd.
She wouldn't set foot in a church - she'd turned her back on God.
John's mother left no Will I learned on my detective trail.
This explains my photo's journey, of that clearance sale.
So I continued digging, cause I wanted to know more.
I found John's name with thousands, in the records of the war.
His last ride proved his courage - a ride you will acclaim
The Light Horse Charge at Beersheba of everlasting fame.
That last day in October, back in 1917
At 4pm our brave boys fell - that sad fact I did glean.
That's when John's life was sacrificed, the record's crystal clear
But 4pm in Beersheba is midnight over here......
So as John's gallant spirit rose to cross the great divide,
Were lightning bolts back home, a signal from the other side?
Is that why Billy bolted and went racing as in pain?
Because he'd never feel his master on his back again?
Was it coincidental? same time - same day - same date?
Some proof of numerology, or just a quirk of fate?
I think it's more than that you know, as I've heard wiser men,
Acknowledge there are many things that go beyond our ken
Where craggy peaks guard secrets 'neath dark skies torn asunder,
Where hoof-beats are companions to the rolling waves of thunder
Where lightning cracks like 303's and ricochets again
Where howling moaning gusts of wind sound just like dying men.
Some Mountain cattlemen have sworn on lonely alpine track,
They've glimpsed a huge black stallion - Light Horseman on his back.
Yes Sceptics say, it's swirling clouds just forming apparitions
Oh no, my friend you can't dismiss all this as superstition.
The desert of Beersheba - or windswept Aussie range,
John Stuart rides on forever there - Now I don't find that strange.
Now some gaze upon this photo, and they often question me
And I tell them a small white lie, and say he's family.
'You must be proud of him.' they say - I tell them, one and all,
That's why he takes - the pride of place - my Anzac on the Wall.
By Jm Brown

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John Wren Virgo

"Look after the game. It means so much to so many."


Joined: 15 Jul 2007


PostPosted: Thu Apr 23, 2015 10:56 am
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100 year "celebration". how are you planning on commemorating the service of those who fought for our country?

i will attend the dawn service at the shrine and then be heading to the footy later on. the pregame experience (from the dawn service to the last post on the g) is an annual highlight.

lest we forget.

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jackcass Cancer



Joined: 01 Mar 2005
Location: Bendigo

PostPosted: Thu Apr 23, 2015 11:53 am
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Echo the sentiments of many.

I am concerned that the media are starting to make it a bit of a circus. Let it be about the brave men, women, and animals who sacrificed so much for us to have the lives we live today rather than about how expansive the coverage by station X is.
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RudeBoy 



Joined: 28 Nov 2005


PostPosted: Thu Apr 23, 2015 12:32 pm
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ANZAC day used to mean a solemn remembrance of the futility of war and particularly the senseless slaughter of WWI, where my grandfather lost his 2 brothers.

Today, unfortunately, the nationalistic jingoism, which began under the Howard government, has turned this solemn day into a circus and a glorification of 'the fighting diggers spirit'. Honestly, I reckon the ghosts of that horrible war would turn in their graves at how this occasion has now become a recruiting exercise for the Australian army. Furthermore, the 'celebrations' at ANZAC cove have somehow morphed into something akin to schoolies week. The insensitivity and cultural arrogance of us going to Turkey in our thousands to celebrate our failed attempt to invade their country is breathtaking.

On ANZAC day I will be taking a minute silence to recall the horrors of war and to remind myself why we should do all in our powers to keep out of war.
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John Wren Virgo

"Look after the game. It means so much to so many."


Joined: 15 Jul 2007


PostPosted: Thu Apr 23, 2015 12:51 pm
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last night i watched a documentary on the abc which showed aspects of the "annual pilgrimage" to gallipoli. i was mortified to learn that you could only access it via a tour group and that sporting group the fanatics was one of the official groups who could facilitate it. the bright yellow t shirts etc looked simply dreadful. also, it appeared people were camping in amongst the memorial headstones. it just looked so crass.

i am saddened by how commercial the day has become. that woolworths copped the bulk of the criticism is slightly unfair given other, less veiled efforts to earn a buck from the day.

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watt price tully Scorpio



Joined: 15 May 2007


PostPosted: Thu Apr 23, 2015 1:00 pm
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Usually I find the whole jingoistic commercialism quite offensive which has been magnified now because of the centenary.

I do feel paricularly concerned about the overvaluing of Gallipoli compared to the Western Front as sad as it was, the myth of the outback Aussie (most soldiers came from the cities as Australia before WW1 was Australia one of the most urbanised places on earth) & the fact that old polilies still send young men mostly & women to die with ill thought out planning in wars that have little if anything to do with us. However I was moved & informed by this show last night on ABC TV:

Lest we forget what? (below is a link to the programme).

http://iview.abc.net.au/programs/lest-we-forget-what/DO1321H001S00

Having said that I will be attending the game & the game for me, the silence & build up provides time to consider, reflect & pause about war, conflict, casualties, the after-effects of war & the innocents involved. Indeed how lucky I am be born here, have a family here all without having to experience war. I thank my late Dad for choosing to live in Australia & Australia allowing him to live here after he & my mothers families appalling, tragic & lived experience of WW2.

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John Wren Virgo

"Look after the game. It means so much to so many."


Joined: 15 Jul 2007


PostPosted: Thu Apr 23, 2015 1:05 pm
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^ that's the doco i watched.
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thompsoc 



Joined: 21 Sep 2009


PostPosted: Thu Apr 23, 2015 1:24 pm
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RudeBoy wrote:
ANZAC day used to mean a solemn remembrance of the futility of war and particularly the senseless slaughter of WWI, where my grandfather lost his 2 brothers.

Today, unfortunately, the nationalistic jingoism, which began under the Howard government, has turned this solemn day into a circus and a glorification of 'the fighting diggers spirit'. Honestly, I reckon the ghosts of that horrible war would turn in their graves at how this occasion has now become a recruiting exercise for the Australian army. Furthermore, the 'celebrations' at ANZAC cove have somehow morphed into something akin to schoolies week. The insensitivity and cultural arrogance of us going to Turkey in our thousands to celebrate our failed attempt to invade their country is breathtaking.

On ANZAC day I will be taking a minute silence to recall the horrors of war and to remind myself why we should do all in our powers to keep out of war.

well said

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regan is true fullback 



Joined: 27 Dec 2002
Location: Granville. nsw

PostPosted: Thu Apr 23, 2015 1:52 pm
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150 years since the end of the American Civil War, 70 years since the end of WW2, and 40 years since the end of that utter blight on this country, Vietnam.

As Tom Lehrer said in 1965:

"It's been a great year for the war buffs"

Next year we remember a far more contentious memorial - 100 years since the Dublin Easter Uprising. I expect this event to pass virtually unnoticed in this country, in spite of all those involved at the time on either side, including the dreaded Churchill. Because we have witnessed it's aftermath, and didn't like it, I expect it to be remembered in silence...
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GreekLunatic 



Joined: 22 Feb 2003
Location: doncaster vic australia

PostPosted: Thu Apr 23, 2015 2:08 pm
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thats all we need the fanatics at gallipoli . We should think about the ones who lost their lives at war
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Woods Capricorn



Joined: 21 Aug 2013
Location: Melbourne

PostPosted: Thu Apr 23, 2015 2:41 pm
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thompsoc wrote:
RudeBoy wrote:
ANZAC day used to mean a solemn remembrance of the futility of war and particularly the senseless slaughter of WWI, where my grandfather lost his 2 brothers.

Today, unfortunately, the nationalistic jingoism, which began under the Howard government, has turned this solemn day into a circus and a glorification of 'the fighting diggers spirit'. Honestly, I reckon the ghosts of that horrible war would turn in their graves at how this occasion has now become a recruiting exercise for the Australian army. Furthermore, the 'celebrations' at ANZAC cove have somehow morphed into something akin to schoolies week. The insensitivity and cultural arrogance of us going to Turkey in our thousands to celebrate our failed attempt to invade their country is breathtaking.

On ANZAC day I will be taking a minute silence to recall the horrors of war and to remind myself why we should do all in our powers to keep out of war.

well said


Yes, well said.

And as for those who struggle to accept that they have been duped by generations of government and commercial propaganda, read this Age report on the myth of 'Simpson and his Donkey'. This debunking is not by some leftist conspiracy theorist, but by the Department of Defence itself.

He is the soldier who was the embodiment of all we admire in the Anzac legend: tough, stoic, fearless and selfless. His life exemplified the finest qualities of mateship and heroism. His death enshrined all that was noble in the lost cause that claimed him.

His deeds have inspired, and been celebrated by, generations of young Australians. His image has graced banknotes, coins and postage stamps. His story has been told and retold in books, movies and plays. He has been deified in paintings and sculptures...

So what are we to do when, after a century of veneration, the legend of Simpson and his donkey is officially punctured and new evidence emerges that the story is largely a myth inflated and exaggerated by the sloppy work of journalists, amateur historians and jingoistic politicians...

A year-long inquiry by a government tribunal last week flatly rejected the long-running populist campaign to have Simpson awarded a posthumous Victoria Cross - the highest award for gallantry in the Commonwealth. But, more significantly, the tribunal found that Simpson's deeds were no more exceptional than those of hundreds of other stretcher bearers working at Gallipoli at the time. The inquiry's report said there were many accounts describing Simpson's conduct. ''The tribunal was, however, unable to find any witness accounts of a specific act of valour … which could single out Simpson's bravery from other stretcher-bearers in the Field Ambulance.''

In the process of what has been the most forensic review of Simpson's war service, the tribunal heard startling evidence that much of the legend of the man with the donkey has been built on false or faulty evidence, richly embellished over the years as history has been turned into hagiography.


http://www.theage.com.au/national/taken-for-a-ride-20130306-2flf1.html

It is a joke that the winning teams who play in NZ on Anzac Day are presented with a trophy depicting Simpson and his donkey.

Anzac Day was from its beginning a day for the Anzac veterans themselves. It was their day and should have ended when the last old digger passed away. But now we have civilians wearing the medals of their service relatives, medals that they have no right to wear because they did not earn them. A travesty. It is that sad social affliction called recreational grieving.

I ignore the bullshit surrounding Anzac Day.

The day I and millions of others worldwide observe for those soldiers and civilians who died in wars is the 11th day of the 11th month. Remembrance Day is the appropriate time.
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John Wren Virgo

"Look after the game. It means so much to so many."


Joined: 15 Jul 2007


PostPosted: Thu Apr 23, 2015 2:57 pm
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just visited the shrine and the exhibits of the different wars. if you have some time i very much recommend having a look.
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droversdog65 



Joined: 27 Nov 2014


PostPosted: Thu Apr 23, 2015 4:53 pm
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Many younger Australians misunderstand the meaning of ANZAC day and who can blame them.

I'm in my '60's and can remember those ANZAC'S as real men - not as faltering, aged icons held up as giants. Small wonder many can't relate to the legend they represent.

The British military were astonished with their superb physical condition and horried at their lack of professional military correctness. They used us as shock troops - canon fodder - if you will, and were shocked at our ferocity at the enemy and valour in the defence of a 'mate'.

Those who don't understand need to remember we are talking about 1915 - that is only 14 short years after the founding of our nation's capitol in Canberra. We were very still much a British colony and bursting with pride to march off to war in defense of democracy and mother England. Australians as a people were still very much of the 'colonial' mindset and there were many, many more men and families in 'the outback', working in places and situations that were so extremely physically and spiritually demanding that today's Australian would simply not comprehend how any soul could endure them. But these were the conditions that men had to work in to open up the heartland of this country.

Many of the young men from the stations and the bush towns marched to war, young men so tough in body and heart that they were the envy of the front line. These then were the ANZAC'S, there was no high minded oratory that motivated them it was a simple case of doing what had to be done.

If my poor account has failed to move doubting hearts - and let's face it I'm no Hemmingway - go you down beneath the Shrine of rememberance and walk through 'the crypt'. Take the time to stop by the 'landing boat' exhibit and listen to the audio presentation right through (it only takes 5 minutes) to hear just what these young men faced.

A couple of hours once a year is a small price to pay to the memory of those young giants who exemplified a young and committed Australia.

The ANZAC tradition doesn't glorify war, it honours a fighting tradition and belief that a 'mate' is someone worthy of laying down your life for - many did - and the disrespect for such staunchness is something that deeply, deeply saddens this old Aussie.

I will be remembering my uncle Charles, an artillary spotter with the Australian Air Corps lost in action over the front line, my uncle Fred buried among a host of heroes at Lone Pine, my uncle Frank buried home on Aussie soil but deeply scarred by his experiences in the Pacific as a military longshoresman and my dad who served in the evacuation of both Crete and Sicily.

Lest we forget.
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