Lest We Forget

“They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old.

Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.

At the going down of the sun, and in the morning,

We will remember them.”

We will remember them.

In the cold of the dawn we gather for one purpose, for remembering the sacrifice of those that died in the defense of our freedom. This day is not to glorify the wars in which they died. It is not to debate the semantics of whether they should have been there in the first place or not. The men and boys who have died in the service are not the ones who made these choices and it is them who we remember.

We remember those who gave their lives believing that their sacrifice would pave they way for a better future for the people they had left back home. It is not where they came from that is important, rather we are remembering the fact they did not return, and the way that it has effected the lives of those who did return.

I personally do not know anyone who has died in a war, my grandparents on both sides were doctors or teachers and thus exempt from being drafted to fight in a far off country. I had a Great Uncle who was a reconnaissance pilot near Ceylon (Sri Lanka) during World War 2, he did see action but he returned home to his loved ones. This lack of direct connection to the loss and pain that war may bring to a family, does not make me feel the sentiment of the dawn service any less strongly.

The bugle plays the tune, which for those who are familiar with it, haunts the cold morning air in a way that reminds us of the souls that haunt the battle field. The gun cracks and the bagpipes sound. The wreathes are laid and the silence fills the air. These are the things which to me signify the spirit which is being remembered. The prayers, speeches, and hymns which are said, give the occasion a little extra for some. For myself they are not the important thing and perhaps the time would be better observed without them so that more people would feel comfortable attending and remembering the fallen in their own way.

The drum rolls and the old soldiers turn and march once more as they did with their fallen brothers all those years ago. With the clapping of those of us who are there to show our appreciation for the hardships that they endured, they turn to the left and march off as the dawn breaks in the sky once again.

Some may say that this post is me being patriotic or even nationalistic, but for me that is not what ANZAC day is about. I understand that for many it is about the bonds that were formed between the soldiers of Australia and New Zealand on the shores of Gallipoli 94 years ago, and the way that it shapped our nations forever. To me ANZAC day is about remembering the individuals from any battle field and any war. It is about doing our bit to make sure that we do not forget the way that they suffered and the fear that they must have faced every minute of every day from the moment they left their home shores.

I believe it is our responsibility to remember, and so long as we hold that memory close, then we can do our bit to make sure such a huge and devastating thing never happens again to anyone. That so long as we feel sorrow for those that have fallen, we cannot in good conscience put anyone else into a situation where that could happen to someone they love.

So please, if you have read this to the end, take a minute to remember in your own way, to picture how it would have been for those that have suffered in war. If you have lost someone you cared about to war, then do not forget.

Lest we forget.