ANZAC Centenary

     Only because I am not Australian  can I get away with saying, "I'm so glad ANZAC Day is over."

     On April 25, 1915,  ANZAC soldiers [Australia New Zealand Army Corps] rushed the Turkish shores at Gallipoli in a World War I offensive.  At an extreme disadvantage, the casualties were enormous. Ooh rah swagger met with a sobering war reality.  The first world war was the young nation's first engagement in an international action. They were there by choice, not by monarch command. Australians remain curiously -and uncharacteristically- sentimental about the swagger and sacrifice of its young soldiers.  ANZAC Day is a national holiday complete with parades, military flyovers, speeches and even a few re-enactments.
     One hundred years on, this sentimentality has reached a feverish pitch.  Communities have spent years planning their centenary celebrations.  The federal government is spending more money to commemorate Australian involvement in WWI than on mental health treatment for current returning soldiers. Only quietly will pundits mention less than positive terms like 'Anzac fatigue' or 'military Halloween' or warn of the mythologizing of the war and the beatification of its soldiers and nurses.  People get very protective of the ANZAC memory.  The term ANZAC is actually trademarked so the use of it on hats, hoodies or beer can holders is strictly verboten as is making any cheap or cheesy reference to it in commercial advertising.
     It is a remembrance everyone can and does get behind.  I even wake up an hour before dawn and attend the local service (the Aussie in this house stays in bed, ahem) and even blogged in this column on ANZAC DAY.  I didn't get to this year's service (the crowds were way too big for my comfort) but I did place a sprig of rosemary ("rosemary for remembrance") on the local memorial statue later in the day. I did enjoy free public transport that day.  Transperth used to just offer free fares to military veterans but this year everyone enjoys a free ride. 

     And I enjoy the break from the nonstop media assault  of war movies, newspaper and magazine special ANZAC pullout sections and endless weeping for long-dead people not known personally on the radio.  I'm so glad ANZAC Day is over.
 

ANZAC Day

The Australian and New Zealand Army Corps landed on the Gallipoli Peninsula on April 25, 1915. A crushing defeat, this day is used not to glorify war but to remember the brave dead, honor veterans and hail current members of the armed forces.

The largest of Perth's ANZAC Day services-which start at dawn-is held at Kings' Park. It is followed by a 'gunfire' breakfast, then a parade and culminating in a commemorative program on the Esplanade. It attracts tens of thousands of people all sardining themselves on the hill to watch the event on a big screen. So there is a big move to have Returned Services League (VFW equivalent) branches hold smaller ceremonies in their community. Our service was at the end of my street at Memorial Garden. All too convenient, even at 6 a.m., to join elected officials, neighborhood vets, a church choir, diligent Scouts and assorted insomniacs for a solemn service. The predawn program goes off without hitch [if you don't count the three Scouts who stood with knees locked for too long and fainted] and even with a bit of humor- a seven year-old girl joined the wreath laying action wearing a lime green robe and red slippers. She was part of the ever-increasing numbers attending ANZAC services everywhere.

Afterwards, it is off to a 'gunfire' breakfast. Normally this would mean rum in the trenches for foot soldiers. Victoria Park attendees were treated to eggs, bacon, tomato and bread at tables set up in the cleanest municipal building loading dock [euphemistically called an undercroft] you have ever sat in. My distinguished table mates included a well-decorated vet who served in Papua New Guinea and the mayor of Vic Park! The conversation was lively and very interesting. Good thing we weren't at the back of the chow line as more people showed up for breakfast than for the service and food was running out. Or does a freebie meal inspire larger self-served portions?

Choices, choices. At this point, one can bus downtown for the parade or head home and watch it on TV. I love a parade, any parade, all parades. Clap, clap, clap, woo hoo, clap, clap, oh yeah, clap, clap. Is that a 99 year-old man walking the parade? And another? Gee, can we cut these oldies some slack?

It is rather ironic that ANZAC Day, of all days in the year, has alcohol sale restrictions on it. The pubs and casino close from 3 a.m. to noon- not out of respect and patriotism-but because it is one of the very few times it is not legal to sell booze. So it is always a bit of a contest each year to see which RSL Hall (full of thirsty vets) gets sprung by law enforcement for tapping a vein before 12 o'clock. I'll settle for an Anzac (oatmeal) cookie, instead.