Anzac Day is the most important day of the year for me.
Years ago, growing up as a kid I'd watch the coverage on channel 7, hoping to see Grandpa as he marched. Didn't mean a hell of a lot to me and my Dad never really made any extra effort to educate me on what it was all about and our family's involvement.
It was only when I got to about 16 that I started asking Grandpa questions. I'd known he'd been in a bomber in WW2 but that was about it...
Once I started asking questions, I found that he had experienced a particularly traumatic event.
He flew as a turret gunner in a Halifax bomber as part of 102 squadron (RAF). He'd flown numerous night raids over Germany's Industrial cities bombing factories, railways, etc. He also took part in D-Day by bombing the Normandy Coast in the hours prior to the landing.
One night returning from a raid, he was shot down. They were attacked from below by a German fighter and at first the Captain told his crew to hold tight as he thought they’d be ok. The next thing he remembered was being blown out of the aircraft and his parachute opening.
He floated in the English Channel for about four hours until he was picked up by a destroyer.
His entire crew had died including Sturt premiership footballer Rex Lathlean.
He recently wrote a letter to the son of his aircraft’s captain which I had the opportunity to read. He said that barely a night goes by when he does not think about that terrible event. He’s just turned 86. By my calculations, that’s about 23,000 nights.
I often think how I would have coped faced with having experienced a similar event.
Not at all well I reckon.
Despite all he’s been through, Grandpa reckons he didn’t suffer half as badly as his Father and Father in Law who were both stretcher bearers for the full duration of the war, serving on Gallipoli and the Western Front.
I’ve recently begun researching my Great Grandfathers. Not a lot is on the records for Grandma’s dad, but there’s a fair bit for Grandpa’s.
They both joined up pretty much straight away and were shipped over to Egypt. From there they both served on Gallipoli but were not there as part of the landing.
After the evacuation, the moved on to the Western Front.
As I said, I don’t really know the details of my Grandma’s Dad’s service, but I do know a fair bit about Grandpa’s Dad.
He was in the 4th Field Ambulance which after Gallipoli formed part of the Fourth Division which moved to the Western Front in June 1916. He saw action in places like The Somme, Pozieres, Bullecourt, Villers Bretonneux and Passchendaele (aka 3rd Battle of Ypres). It was at 3rd Ypres at the Battle of Polygon Wood that he won a Military Medal for Bravery on the Field.
Apparently life in the trenches was everything we’ve heard it to be - and then about a hundred times worse. Living in mud alongside rats, mice and corpses would have been a living hell. Dealing with things like gas attacks, disease and the endless bombardment of shells for months on end, to me, is simply unimaginable. Apparently for his whole life after the war, he'd have to go down to the back of the yard and spend 5-10 minutes coughing in the morning as a result of the gas attacks he experienced. I think it’s these aspects that is why Grandpa thinks he suffered less than his Dad. At least as a member of a Bomber Crew, he got to sleep in a bed with clean sheets each night.
So it’s for people like my Grand Father and Great Grand Fathers that I ensure I make it to a Dawn Service and pay my respects for the sacrifices they and so many of their mates made – some the ultimate sacrifice.
This Sunday will most likely be the last service I attend with Grandpa, as he’s unlikely to make it another 12 months and as such will be extra special for me.
I’ll be making the 25th April a very important day in the lives of my two kids and will ensure they’re very aware of why it’s such a sacred day.
My Great Grandfather 2nd from the right at Hotchkiss Gully on Gallipoli.