Saturday, April 25, 2009

ANZAC Day

The Australian and New Zealand Army Corps landed on the Gallipoli Peninsula on April 25, 1915. A crushing defeat, this day is used not to glorify war but to remember the brave dead, honor veterans and hail current members of the armed forces.

The largest of Perth's ANZAC Day services-which start at dawn-is held at Kings' Park. It is followed by a 'gunfire' breakfast, then a parade and culminating in a commemorative program on the Esplanade. It attracts tens of thousands of people all sardining themselves on the hill to watch the event on a big screen. So there is a big move to have Returned Services League (VFW equivalent) branches hold smaller ceremonies in their community. Our service was at the end of my street at Memorial Garden. All too convenient, even at 6 a.m., to join elected officials, neighborhood vets, a church choir, diligent Scouts and assorted insomniacs for a solemn service. The predawn program goes off without hitch [if you don't count the three Scouts who stood with knees locked for too long and fainted] and even with a bit of humor- a seven year-old girl joined the wreath laying action wearing a lime green robe and red slippers. She was part of the ever-increasing numbers attending ANZAC services everywhere.


Afterwards, it is off to a 'gunfire' breakfast. Normally this would mean rum in the trenches for foot soldiers. Victoria Park attendees were treated to eggs, bacon, tomato and bread at tables set up in the cleanest municipal building loading dock [euphemistically called an undercroft] you have ever sat in. My distinguished table mates included a well-decorated vet who served in Papua New Guinea and the mayor of Vic Park! The conversation was lively and very interesting. Good thing we weren't at the back of the chow line as more people showed up for breakfast than for the service and food was running out. Or does a freebie meal inspire larger self-served portions?



Choices, choices. At this point, one can bus downtown for the parade or head home and watch it on TV. I love a parade, any parade, all parades. Clap, clap, clap, woo hoo, clap, clap, oh yeah, clap, clap. Is that a 99 year-old man walking the parade? And another? Gee, can we cut these oldies some slack?

It is rather ironic that ANZAC Day, of all days in the year, has alcohol sale restrictions on it. The pubs and casino close from 3 a.m. to noon- not out of respect and patriotism-but because it is one of the very few times it is not legal to sell booze. So it is always a bit of a contest each year to see which RSL Hall (full of thirsty vets) gets sprung by law enforcement for tapping a vein before 12 o'clock. I'll settle for an Anzac (oatmeal) cookie, instead.

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