ANZAC Day: a day at the beach like no other

25 April is ANZAC day in Australia. ANZAC is the acronym for Australian and New Zealand Army Corp. This is the day we remember those who have fought in wars. The campaign at Gallipoli, during WW1, while not the only battle/war remembered, is one of the defining moments of Australia’s history. Our identity and perception of ourselves as Australians– mateship, larrikinism etc- is tied up, at least in part, in the story of Gallipoli. We were, of course, soundly defeated by the Turks during this campaign, and yet we celebrate it as a defining and proud moment in our history. The soldiers appear to have held little animosity towards the Turkish soldiers, our bitterness over the defeat was firmly directed towards our allies, the British. (I think we are over it now J ). This is a photo I took of the beach at ANZAC cove when I visited Turkey in the early 1990’s.

‘I was terribly frightened’

A Fortunate Life by A B Facey is an Australian classic. This is the memoir of a man born in 1894, who served at Gallipoli, and had a hard life, by any standards, but also a fortunate life according to him. His father died when he was two, his mother abandoned him soon afterwards, had no formal education, taught himself to read and write, he started work at eight and he landed at Gallipoli when he was 21:

All went well until we were making the change into rowing boats. Suddenly all hell broke loose; heavy shelling and shrapnel fire commenced. The ships that were protecting our troops returned fire. Bullets were thumping into us in the rowing boat. Men were being hit and killed around me.

When we were cut loose to make our way to the shore was the worst period. I was terribly frightened. The boat touched bottom some thirty yards from shore so we had to jump out and wade into the beach. The water in some places was up to my shoulders. The Turks had machine guns sweeping the strip of beach where we landed – there were many dead already when we got there. Bodies of men who had reached the beach ahead of us were lying all along the beach and wounded men were screaming for help. We couldn’t stop for them – the Turkish fire was terrible and mowing into us. The order to line up on the beach was forgotten. We all ran for our lives over the strip of beach and got into the scrub and bush. Men were falling all around me. We were stumbling over bodies – running blind.

The sight of the bodies on the beach was shocking. It worried me for days that I couldn’t stop to help the men calling out. (This was one of the hardest things of the war for me and I’m sure for many of the others. There were to be other times under fire when we couldn’t help those that were hit. I would think for days, ‘I should have helped that poor beggar’.)

Obviously Bert survived the war, and went on to marry the girl who had sent him (as an unknown soldier) a care package. His two brothers were not so lucky – both died during this campaign. An interesting and relatively (nb: I struggle reading anything too long and educational) easy to read history of the Gallipoli campaign is called Gallipoli by Les Carlyon.

A recipe

Couldn’t write about ANZAC day without a recipe for ANZAC Biscuits, which may have been sent to the diggers at Gallipoli, or were made to sell to support the troops, depending on the story you choose to believe.

1 cup rolled oats

1 cup flour (I use wholemeal)

1 cup sugar (I cut it back to ¾)

¾ cup desiccated coconut

1 tablespoon Golden Syrup

125 grams butter (Don’t use anything that has the word ‘I can’t believe it’s not… on the label)

1 teaspoon bi-carb soda

2 tablespoons boiling water

Combine all dry ingredients. Melt together butter and syrup. Add bi-carb to boiling water and add to syrup/butter mixture. (Be careful it bubbles up). Add to dry ingredients and mix well. Roll into balls, place on greased tray, and flatten slightly. Bake 20 min at 170 degrees c.

This is the inscription on the memorial at Gallipoli:

Those heroes that shed their blood and lost their lives……

You are now lying in the soil of a friendly country.

Therefore rest in peace.

There is no difference between the Johnnies

and the Mehmets to us where they lay side by side

here in this country of ours…..

You, the mothers,

Who sent their sons from far away countries

Wipe away your tears;

Your sons are now lying in our bosom

and are at peace.

After having lost their lives on this land

They have become our sons as well

Ataturk 1934.

 

Coming soon:

Stay tuned for part two of Brisbane: The City That Tries Too Hard or even Brisbane: it’s not what you think. Thanks Kay – I love it!