lioness in japan

Along George Street in central Sydney was the Anzac Day parade on Friday, 25 April 2008. I was always fuzzy on the details on why this was such an important date in the Aussie calendar.

In Singapore, I woke up at dawn to go to a Woodlands cemetery to attend an Anzac ceremony three years ago. I just knew that many soldiers, Aussies, Kiwis, and British were slaughtered by the Turkish troops in Gallipoli, a beach on the coast of Turkey, during World War I. The battle instructions sent out gave the wrong location so the troops arrived at a cliffed beach where the Turkish army shot downwards and everyone was hopelessly wiped out within a matter of hours as the sun rose. After a series of hymns and prayers, we went down to the breakfast buffet where coffee and rum were served. So Aussie — they have their tipple any of the day.

But the real story to this tradition is that the soldiers found themselves in this horrible situation, so their commanders gave them rum to drum up liquid courage. It sort of was like a last toast to life and they faced the bloodiness like brave men should.

I always wondered why the kangaroo was so enthusiastic about Anzac Day. He dragged us out of bed at 4am the first time, and in Sydney last weekend, he hauled himself out of bed even though he had a horrible hangover.

I got rugged up (another Aussism) and followed him to the parade that was just one street away from our hotel at Sussex Street.

It does look like a parade like any other with marching bands but the historical and social impact can be seen in the different legions of people marching. They represented their section of the military — medical, airforce, navy, army….The whole of Australia was involved in the war and even those who didn’t fight in the frontline but were at home. They made uniforms, packed food, made weapons… the list is endless. The parade is not so much about the glorification of war, but about national solidarity in times of necessity. Widows wore their late husbands’ war medals proudly and their emotions were palpable. I felt the buzz of familial pride on my skin on this cold autumn day in Sydney.

There you go, another cultural nugget about Australia I discovered and why the kangaroo would get out of bed even though his tongue still felt furry (another Aussism) from the bucks’ party the night before.

Related posts:

1. Hanging out in Sydney
2. Sydney is a pretty city
3. Sydney rocks

Sphere: Related Content