I think for anyone who has emigrated from the land of their birth, there are always certain days during which you always feel a strong pull of 'home'. For me, ANZAC Day (25 April) is one of them.
ANZAC Day is the day which commemorates the contribution of the Australian and New Zealand forces to World War 1...it is the anniversary of the day in 1915 during which a large contingent of young men from those countries landed at Gallipoli (Turkey) as part of the allies offensive. It is also the day that many of those lives were lost...
Growing up in Australia, ANZAC Day was always a day which had strong resonance. Being such a small country, most people had fathers, grandfathers and great-grandfathers who had been involved in various conflicts. From the dawn service and commemorative march, to the more secular tradition of 'two-up' at the pub, ANZAC day permeates many traditions as the nation remembers.
My grandfather fought in the middle east during World War 2 for the Australian Infantry Forces. This is also the man, who thanks to his birth in England, paved the way for my entry into this country, and ultimately the route to becoming a British citizen myself. Through sad, and partly still unknown reasons, he emigrated to Australia as a 12 year old boy. So, a day such as today seems to take on extra meaning as the two strands of my heritage coalesce into one...
So whilst far away from the events that recall and honour the contribution of my home country to a land and way of life that is free...
...at the going down of the sun, and in the morning, we will remember them...lest we forget...
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