On Friday 25th April, Australians celebrate
ANZAC day, their version of Remembrance Sunday. It’s a day that commemorates
ANZAC (Australian and New Zealand Army Corps) participation in all military
conflicts, but in particular their assault on Gallipoli of the Ottoman Empire
(now Turkey) during WWI. There would be hundreds of different parades and
services going on during the day, but what really caught my eye was the dawn
service and the war memorial in King’s Park, which has an almost bird’s eye
view of the city. Therefore, as Thursday was drawing to a close, I set a
ruthless alarm of 4:30am in order to get into the city and up to the park in
time.
It was all good intentions, but sadly
that’s as far as it went. My alarm went off at the pre-arranged, horifically
early time, but I must have turned it off instead of hitting snooze, because
the next thing I knew it was 6am; the time that the service was due to start. I
dragged myself to the living room and watched it on TV, which made me pretty gutted
to miss it despite the extra sleep I enjoyed afterwards. Watching it from my
living was very haunting and sombre, so I can only imagine how it must have
been actually being there.
I’m sure I would have taken pictures as
nice as this if I’d made it:
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