There are few days when I welcome a 5am alarm, but the Anzac Day Dawn Service, held on the 25th April every year, is one of them. We are so fortunate here in the complex where I live to have an Army Chaplain, ex-Service Men and Women from the Navy, Army and Airforce, other residents who have treasured mementos from family members, and a dedicated committee, who year after year, ensure our memorial is top notch – we even have a printed programme. Here is how we begin:

On this day above all others, we recall those who served in war and did not return to receive the grateful thanks of the nation. We remember those who are still where they were left – amid the scrub of the valleys and ridges of Gallipolli – on the terraced hills of Palestine – and in the cemeteries of France.

We remember those who lie beneath the shimmering haze of the Libyan desert, in the mountain passes and olive groves of Greece and Crete, and the rugged hills of Syria and Lebanon.

We remember those buried in the jungles of Malaya, Singapore, Burma, New Guinea and on the islands of the Pacific.

We remember those who rest among loving friends in Britain, those who died as prisoners of war and those whose grave is the unending sea.

We also think today of those who gave their lives in Korea, Malaya, Borneo and Vietnam; and those who, in more recent times, died in Iraq, Afghanistan, East Timor and the Solomon Islands.

It is to honour them and all who have served the nation in its times of danger that we have gathered here today.

This is followed by prayers, a tribute address, hymns, the laying of wreaths, the Ode*, the Last Post, a minute’s silence, The Rouse, and then concludes with our National Anthem followed by thanks. (If going to the links, give the videos a moment to get going. It takes a lot of breath the blow a bugle in tune 🙂 )

* They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old. Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn. At the going down of the sun, and in the morning, we will remember them (response: We will remember them). Lest we forget (response: Lest we Forget).

Part way through this service, which begins at 6am, rain or shine, the sun rises. Right on time today, there at 6.26am, its orange orb appeared on the horizon.

This year, we had special mention of the Montevideo Maru whose skeletal remains in the South China Sea were discovered just last week.

On 22nd June 1942**, the Montevideo Maru carrying Australian prisoners of war was sunk by an allied submarine. Over 1,000 military and civilian prisoners from fourteen countries were lost. The ship sank with at least 850 Australian service members and 210 civilians.

On the 18th April, this year, we learnt that the wreck of the Japanese Auxiliary ship and the resting place of those Australians was discovered at a depth of over 4,000 metres in the South China Sea.

A memorial to those who lost their lives was erected at the Heidelberg Repatriation Hospital. A Montevideo Maru memorial has been erected in Ballarat.

Lest We Forget.

(** Not sure where that date came from, but I will bow to their greater knowledge).

The next order of service is to head off to our on-site restaurant for breakfast. In some past years it has been what is termed “Gunfire”. The tradition of the Gunfire Breakfast dates back to the tot of rum that was usually given to the men “in the frigid hours before stand-to and sunrise” as a means of “livening the senses” for the fight ahead. This year, we slugged back nothing stronger than orange juice.

We also have a display of memorabilia which the organisers try to change every year, encouraging our newer residents to come forward with theirs. Luckily, no one puts me in charge of keeping the medals safe, some of which date to the Boer War in South Africa.

Some then head into “town” for the veteran’s march and wreath laying at our local cenotaph. Other stay and play what we call “two-up” but in our version it is simply heads-and-tails albeit using the traditional kip and three pennies. One dollar a round, and winner takes the pot each round. Anzac Day is the only day of the year it is legal to play this particular betting game. If you want to know how it really works, watch this video. And if you still don’t get it, at least you will have heard a “true-blue” Aussie accent.

Meantime, volunteers from our local Historical Aircraft Restoration Museum stage a flyover. This year it was an Orion, an Iroquois (helicopter) and a Spitfire.

Later still, some gather in our on-site cinema to watch a game of National Rugby League (NRL) on the big screen. Bill is happy, as he is in the footy-tipping competition, and his team won, but I don’t think one lonely game will be enough to put him on the winner’s podium at the end of the season. (The Roosters versus The Dragons if you must know the details).

I was watching the back of my eyelids by that stage.

In Melbourne Victoria, where they play a vastly different game called Australian Rules Football (AFL), more than 95,000 people watched the Magpies (Collingwood) beat the Bombers (Essendon). This was a record crowd, but such large numbers to sporting events are not unusual down there. I think it’s because for other open-air entertainment they only have the muddy-brown Yarra River which runs upside down, whereas we here in Sydney have the majestic harbour, with its endless opportunities for outdoor enjoyment 🙂

So – you see, just as our service men and women would do themselves, this special day is a mixture of reverence and good-old Australian larrikinism.

If you ever visit Sydney on Anzac Day, please set aside the entire morning to be present at the march. It begins at 9am, but if you wish to catch the Sydney dawn service, then you need to be at the cenotaph in Martin Place by 4.15am. This signifies when the allied attack on Gallipoli in WW1 began.

Our WWI veterans have now all passed, and we only have around 5,000 WWII still with us, but there are service people from many other conflicts, and descendants of veterans, who make this a spectacular event. This year marks the fiftieth since the end of our participation in the Vietnam War. It seems like only yesterday my brother and I, and his mates, waited anxiously to hear whether his “marble” would be drawn in the service ballot. Hard to believe half a century has passed – as has my brother. At today’s ceremony other residents also recalled their service then. Two of them introduced me to a new term, and the meaning of their medals. They were part of the “Skippy Squadron“. Officially employed by Qantas, they were civilian volunteers who transported troops and technical personnel from Sydney to Saigon flying Boeing 707s. Make no mistake, they may not have had the official uniform and status, but these guys were flying into a war zone.

Lest We Forget.

Please enjoy this slideshow: