Lest we have forgotten...
I used to be a typical Aussie student, interested in girls, not interested in supperannuation. Interested in soccer, definitely not interested in history.
I remember my history teaching banging his head against a brick wall as he tried to impart valuable information of the ages on this hormone infested blob, seldom sucessfully.
The simple fact was that history was confined to the text book for me. World War 1 appeared like a graphic story from the imagination of Edgar Allan Poe, statistics of death tolls were precisely that, statistics.
As a result I took a pretty apathetic approach towards things like Anzac day and rememberance day, much like the rest of my generation that have only experience war via the television screen.
My trip to Europe as an 18 year old changed much of that.
Being a broke student I chose to board with my best mate Aidan, who was on exchange in Belgium. Being a rotary exchange student he dediced to try his luck by ringing up the local Rotary club at the battle fields (Perronne) and seeing if they'd mind showing us around.
Well the generousity that was shown to us was amazing. We arrove on the express train and there was a car waiting, from the second we stepped into that car the world was our free oyster. The club had planned our 4 day itinary, ensuring that a different Rotary member was giving a personalised tour, and refused to let us pay for a thing. We were taken to the towns finest restaurant (owned by the child of a member), taken into peoples homes and shown the amazing battlefields of the Somme. Many of our elected tourguides could remember the rammifications of the war personally, one venerable old lady recounted her memories as a 5 year old girl!
Truth be told I couldn't get my head around this, why the warm welcome? Especially in France that has a stereotypical xenophobic reputation, yet I had never felt so welcomed, ever. Their answer?
"Because you are Australian."
It was a debt of gratitude.
This was one of the most sobering experiences of my life, an entire community, STILL so indebted to another nation for their assistance almost a century prior. STILL so greatful that they'd gladly host Australian tourists in the memory of fallen Australian soldiers.
It'd be easy to go on to talk about the impression of the tombstones and memorials, the battlefields that house the ghosts of Australians far younger than me when they were taken away.
But I believe the most telling indicator is the reaction of these people who opened up their homes to us. For them, the Great Wars are not a statistic.
I promised myself to take rememberence days seriously after that experience. I am saddened to say that 5 years down the track my resolve has softened considerably. This is my attempt to reignite that passion and desire to respect. I'd like to encourage you all to consider your responce in a similar manner.
Lest we have forgotten.
Lest we forget.
I remember my history teaching banging his head against a brick wall as he tried to impart valuable information of the ages on this hormone infested blob, seldom sucessfully.
The simple fact was that history was confined to the text book for me. World War 1 appeared like a graphic story from the imagination of Edgar Allan Poe, statistics of death tolls were precisely that, statistics.
"Because you are Australian"
My trip to Europe as an 18 year old changed much of that.
Being a broke student I chose to board with my best mate Aidan, who was on exchange in Belgium. Being a rotary exchange student he dediced to try his luck by ringing up the local Rotary club at the battle fields (Perronne) and seeing if they'd mind showing us around.
Well the generousity that was shown to us was amazing. We arrove on the express train and there was a car waiting, from the second we stepped into that car the world was our free oyster. The club had planned our 4 day itinary, ensuring that a different Rotary member was giving a personalised tour, and refused to let us pay for a thing. We were taken to the towns finest restaurant (owned by the child of a member), taken into peoples homes and shown the amazing battlefields of the Somme. Many of our elected tourguides could remember the rammifications of the war personally, one venerable old lady recounted her memories as a 5 year old girl!
Truth be told I couldn't get my head around this, why the warm welcome? Especially in France that has a stereotypical xenophobic reputation, yet I had never felt so welcomed, ever. Their answer?
"Because you are Australian."
It was a debt of gratitude.
This was one of the most sobering experiences of my life, an entire community, STILL so indebted to another nation for their assistance almost a century prior. STILL so greatful that they'd gladly host Australian tourists in the memory of fallen Australian soldiers.
It'd be easy to go on to talk about the impression of the tombstones and memorials, the battlefields that house the ghosts of Australians far younger than me when they were taken away.
But I believe the most telling indicator is the reaction of these people who opened up their homes to us. For them, the Great Wars are not a statistic.
I promised myself to take rememberence days seriously after that experience. I am saddened to say that 5 years down the track my resolve has softened considerably. This is my attempt to reignite that passion and desire to respect. I'd like to encourage you all to consider your responce in a similar manner.
Lest we have forgotten.
Lest we forget.
Mum's Word
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.