ANZAC in the dust
Somewhere in the 'Stan on 25 April myself and other Commonwealth officers will be comemorating the sacrifice of Australasians. As an aside, I found an old Martini Enfield rifle with New Zealand markings on it for sale at KAIA-Napa last week, reinforcing perhaps, the moving statement on the NZ Memorial at Messines Ridge: "From the Uttermost ends of the Earth"
My thoughts on Gallipoli are mixed. Sadly, the solemnity of the Dawn Service on the peninsula is blighted by the carnival atmosphere of many young backpackers (generally Australians) who have come to view a trip to Gallipoli as a 'rite of passage' involving drinking to excess, amongst other things. There are two viewpoints, I suppose: there is the liberal 'They died so we shall live in freedom' or the stricter view of formalised commeroration of the dead. I recall speaking to some youngsters at an ANZAC service, and although they knew about Gallipoli, their knowledge of the rest of World War I and II was, how shall I say it - sparse. For example, over 80,000 casualties were inflicted on British and French troops at Gallipoli, yet their contribution - which was no less heroic, or indeed no less misguided - has been largely airbrushed from history as the mythology of the ANZAC spirit grows. Wars, as I am reminded on a daily basis here, are a Hobbsian experience of brutal death - not noble sacrifices, just desparately sad losses of young men and women who young enough to be children of mine. One just needs to stand at a repatriation ceremony/ramp service to appreciate that silence speaks volumes.