In Australia and New Zealand today is the day that we take a moment to pause and to thank our armed forces for their sacrifice so that we can live the kind of life we have. 105 years ago the first ANZAC soldiers (Australian and New Zealand Army Corps) landed on the shores of Turkey during World War 1. It was not a pretty campaign but it brought two countries very firmly together in mateship and it showed the world the toughness of these foreign fighters as well as their ability to make the best of a bad situation.
Each and every year both countries stop to remember Anzac Day and all the other war and peace efforts of our armed forces. We give thanks, think of those who have been brave enough to put their hand up and say they'll put their life on the line in the name of country.
This year thanks to that dreaded disease there are no gathered crowds, no marches of past and present soldiers but we have instead attended this service in our own way by lighting a candle at the end of our driveways and watching the sun rise as we remeber and give thanks.
In my mind was my Grandfather, John, whom I never had the privilage of meeting. My dad has told a few stories though of how this famer from Tepko (a little community just outside of Murray Bridge) raised his hand when the call came out during World War Two. Grandpa was part of the Royal Australian Air Force. I have seen a photograph of the German submarine he and the crew he belonged to forced to surrender. My Great Aunt as well was a nurse during this same war. I wonder what they saw while so far from home and what stories they could have told, today especially.
There are many soldiers I know serving now, young people around my own age who have shown that same bravery. So to those who have put up there hand yesteryear, now and into the future I just wanted to say thanks.
We shall always remember, we shall always be grateful.
Lest we forget.
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