We've just arrived home from the service at the base. It was a very simple, quiet service, with no flashy dramatics. The Lord's Prayer was recited, prayers spoken for the soldiers who are deployed, and for the families of the soldiers that never returned. The morning was solemnly emotional.
The cawing of the crows at the base always get to me. They begin as the stars fade and the sky turns to a pastey grey blue. Their calls correspond to the rising of the morning breeze and the tap, tap of the flag clasps hanging at halfmast. The Last Post trumpets its invitation to those assembled to remember. Silence follows; thick with thoughts, memories, emotions and, perhaps most importantly, hopes. We stand as the national anthem draws all eyes upward to the Flag that is now atop the pole.
As we joined the crowd for breakfast in the compound we passed by wreaths laid beside the unit's plaques, and could read the battle history on the wall. The group of a hundred or so gathering for a meal were huddling in small scrums, drawing coats and blankets up around their chins to keep out the biting wind. And on the air wafted that ever familiar Anzac coffee smell (the heavily laced with rum coffee smell!).
Standing fast against the cold wind.
Benjamin's first Anzac Day Service.
The sun peeking over the barracks.
Morning mishaps... Jessica set fire to the ends of her hair with the candle she was holding, while she was emphatically telling Willem to be careful with his candle or he might set fire to his hair! Breakfast consisted of spilled teas and juices, soggy shirts and a dripping tablecloth. Oh yes, also took us 40 minutes to get from the lights at Samford Rd to the base gates. Then there were no parks up at the unit so we had to create our own tricksy parking space.
But now we are entering that foggy, 'I got up too early' stage of the morning. The TV is on so we can watch the snippets of parades and Aussie history, and at 10am we will be able to see the city march.
Anzac Day ................................ LEST WE FORGET!
