Anzac buckies... yum!
best anzac memory. Being at Anzac House in Cannakale, Turkey. Finding out it was 24th April (had no idea). Watched Mel Gibson in the movie, next morning caught boat over the straight. Walked to Gelibolu. (Gallipoli) Offered free taxi tour all around the landing site and memorials. Virtually obody around bar one small official meeting that came and went.
camped where out boys landed. Turkish people drove up late in the day and gave us a mass of fresh food and water because there were no shops of any kind around. Had a breakfast I'll never forget, cooked on our campfire right by one of the beachside cemetaries on the cliffs where they landed. Found a fork and spoon which amazed the locals apparently very rare to find anything, all been scoured so many times by so many people.
cried over the plaques of so many young guys. Teenagers. Turkish people invited us (myself and the guy friend I was with), to an all Turkish non tourist, camp. We stayed for days. They refused our money. They told us many great stories of the Anzacs and Turkish men. They believe were it not for English Officers insisting the Aussies fight, they would have sat down played cards and sports. They had a story where this was done until an English guy arrived and grabbed a gun and shot a Turkish guy. They really vehemently dislike the English, but love us Aussies and Kiwis, that even started for me on the train into Turkey from Sofia, Bulgaria. They hugged me and kanga kanga kanga ran off with my passport. Which was a littled disconcerting, but the brought it back all smiles with several Turkish officials shaking my hand. My next door neighbours in the sleep train were English. They had an ice cold "reception" and their backpacks were trashed, their cubicle looked like every item in their backpacks had been removed and just strewn all over to deliberately cover every inch of the floor. I did not know then what I learnt later, at Gelibolu, but when I did, that event finally started to make some sense.
I also cried in Kanchanaburi and shook the hand of the Thai lady (who did not speak a word of English) who was tending the manicured graves. A busliad of Japanese arrived. Laughing and jumping all ove the graves, I walked up to them, tears pouring out of my face, and although they couldnt understand me, I made it clear to them to stop. They looked at me incredulously but did stop, they quietly took their pucs then left. That was only one of my very poignant memories at the bridge on the river Kwai.
both experiences changed my views on commemorating Anzac day and resound inside me to this day. Lest we forget, war is not peace. War is terror. and torture In sanctioned form. It breeds hate and distrust, not peace and harmony. It's legacy, on those it is perpetrated, is not a good one in any way, it can't be. It's killing. I've seen too much, in too many places to ever believe anybody wants war, except those untouched by it.
lest we forget.
mum
dad and all those who served, and especially those lost ❤
