Dawn of the ANZAC
Every ANZAC day I go to my local dawn service. Often that has been on a cold, misty, rainy morning at the ANZAC roundabout on Hyde Park Corner in London where London for a short time feels at peace and still. Today I am in Sydney so I went to Martin Place instead. The length of Martin Place and all of the side streets were packed with people, many of whom arrived at 2am to get the best spots! It is a personal thing and I find it touching that people make the effort to go and remember.
For me ANZAC day represents so many things; the union of sibling nations (Australia and New Zealand); our forebears and their struggles to give us the society we now live in; human loss and suffering; the hope of peace (for which we still strive).
The tradition of ANZAC day started 90 years ago today in Sydney so too the tradition of the minute’s silence to remember the fallen. This is an extremely powerful thing. For me the focus is not on the war and the tears I shed (I have not yet gone an ANZAC day without shedding tears at some point!) are for all human kind who have lost, and for all those who continue to lose through conflict today. It never ceases to amaze me how we humans always seem to repeat history and make the same mistakes. It appears we so often seek to hurt or destroy other humans and I’m never really sure what it is all for.
So as I write this watching the blood red sun emerge over Sydney harbour turn golden, I remember all those before me and bow my head in the hope that we, the generations now living who have the power to change the world, will individually and collectively learn for our future generations and for humanity.
Lest we forget.