Today was ANZAC Day.
A day where many people who would normally not make the effort to engender respect in our community,
actually behave in a better manner.
This year was one of the few that I haven’t made it to a Dawn Service.
I always ball my eyes out.
The solemnity of the occasion totally overwhelms me.
Being a history lover, the tradition plus the modern spirit of ANZAC Day fills me with hope.
Hope, that lessons can be learnt and progress can be made within our culture.
In the past, I have made it to the largest Dawn Service held in Western Australia,
which occurs at Kings Park War Memorial every 25th of April.
I can tell you without a word of exaggeration, that the hour leading up to the dawn,
when we all arrive in the dark,
is the quietest moment of my life.
The silence is truly deafening.
I kid you not, when I say that even babies don’t cry.
It is eery.
They shall not grow 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.
“The Ode” by Laurence Binyon