Thirteen days later. It is no longer raining. The torrential downpours have stopped and there are now only intermittent and unpredictable bursts of rain. The weather is mostly fine with cloudy skies which are not to be trusted if you are planning outdoor activities – like finishing the house painting!
The evenings and nights are cooler with a good covering of dew that evaporates after the first hour or two of daylight. The autumn trees have changed and have shed most of their glorious multi-coloured leaves. The air is crisp and feels clear and clean when I breathe it in at 3am on my way to work. (The time is not a joke!!)
The 25th of April was ANZAC Day, a national day of remembrance in NZ and Australia, in honour of the soldiers who lost their lives at Gallipoli in WWI. The soldiers were from a combined Australian and New Zealand force, hence the name ANZAC. Each year the number of people paying their respects grows. In Auckland alone, some 20,000 people gathered for the main dawn parade at the Auckland War Memorial. There were many more ceremonies throughout NZ, Australia and of course, at Gallipoli itself. All have reported increasing numbers of young people, families with their children and grandchildren, over the past few years and this year that trend has continued.
The increasing numbers attending the ANZAC day commemorations says something about us as a nation. The comments taken from those attending reflect a sense of national pride in the role these young men took on for their countries. That they paid the ultimate price, with their lives, is honoured and treasured by both the nation as a whole, and by the subsequent generations of their families. The families pass on the stories about a loved, grandfather, father, cousin or uncle. Their families are a living tribute to their lives.
It is also a time when collectively as a nation, we reflect on the horrors of war and the tremendous cost in lives, to our families and our country. There is also a sense of hope, certainly a desire, that such loses should not be experienced again. A search and wish for peace.
It is honourable and fitting that we pause on such a day and reflect on the cost of war and the search for peace.
The reality is that these precious lives lost 84 years ago and honoured and treasured with such respect, have not been the last. NZ suffered losses in WWII, Vietnam and Afghanistan and more. (2007 was the first ANZAC day that was inclusive of our Vietnam veterans. There are currently 900 officers serving in operational capacities at overseas postings.)
It was hoped that WWI would be the war to end all wars. That nations and families would not endure such pain and grief again. This has not been the reality.
It is also not so easy to define war these days. It is not as clear cut. Participants may be oblivious to the fact that they are in a war. The combatants, the planners and the plotters may feel like they are acting righteously, standing up for their beliefs or politics and therefore justifying their war-like actions. The boundaries have become extremely blurred but the cost in lives continues to accelerate.
The 2002 Bali bombings killed 88 Australians and three New Zealanders. I doubt they thought they were in a war. I doubt their families, as they farewelled them on their journey, thought they were sending them off to war, or imagined that would be the last time they saw their loved ones.
Are terrorists misguided soldiers of war? Their actions are hailed as heroic deeds by their like-minded comrades, who take delight in the death toll. Are poor quality video messages declaring death on those who fail to believe as they believe, the new declarations of war? Could this been seen as the “modernization” of war protocol and would a text message suffice next time?
The London bombings, 7th July 2005 killed one Australian and one New Zealander, (my daughter Shelley), along with 50 other people. My daughter, was aware of the possibility of terrorist attacks, as we all were, following 9/11and the increased risk as a result of the actions of the US and British governments’ foray into Iraq. She marched in the protest in London against the move into Iraq. She was a peaceful person with respect for the diverse views and cultures of the world. She was not a soldier going knowingly into a war zone. She would not harm another person. She died as the result of an explosion on an underground tube. Another human being, carrying a bomb, carefully planned and timed the detonation to cause maximum damage, took her life. She was simply going about her daily life, on her way to work, planning her next trip, to Greece.
There were pictures on the TV of jubilant celebrations on the streets in Iraq, as the impact of the bombers’ strike on the London Underground became known. These comrades of the bombers, or at least ideologically aligned believers, sang and danced at the death of my daughter and the other 51 souls.
ANZAC day made me think about war; the taking of lives and Shelley’s death.
As a nation we pause and reflect on the courage and loss of lives of our soldiers. We see them as having fought for an honourable and just cause. We treat them with reverence and respect and at the same time, hope that we never again have to send our young men and women off on active duty. We see the futility of war as a way of resolving issues. We know the terrible cost of death. I know the terrible loss of my daughter.
I am not sure that there are any noble wars, where honour and right warrant the loss, or taking of lives. We know the horror of living with these losses. What we don’t seem to know is how to avoid such conflicts. On a global scale the old adage of might is right, still reigns.
I do know that terrorists are not brave soldiers, that no matter how they dress up their views, they are simply cowardly murders.
I paused on ANZAC day and remembered the dead and their families. I held Shelley’s love in my heart and remembered all those who died with her that day. A death is a death no matter how it comes about.
I have taken to heart a quote from Joan Baez, which I carry with me. It is my choice of action and it is part of what I am attempting to achieve on this blog.
Joan Baez b 1941
I would say that I’m a non-violent soldier.
In palce of weapons of violence, you have to use your mind,
your heart, your sense of humour, every faculty available to you
The evenings and nights are cooler with a good covering of dew that evaporates after the first hour or two of daylight. The autumn trees have changed and have shed most of their glorious multi-coloured leaves. The air is crisp and feels clear and clean when I breathe it in at 3am on my way to work. (The time is not a joke!!)
The 25th of April was ANZAC Day, a national day of remembrance in NZ and Australia, in honour of the soldiers who lost their lives at Gallipoli in WWI. The soldiers were from a combined Australian and New Zealand force, hence the name ANZAC. Each year the number of people paying their respects grows. In Auckland alone, some 20,000 people gathered for the main dawn parade at the Auckland War Memorial. There were many more ceremonies throughout NZ, Australia and of course, at Gallipoli itself. All have reported increasing numbers of young people, families with their children and grandchildren, over the past few years and this year that trend has continued.
The increasing numbers attending the ANZAC day commemorations says something about us as a nation. The comments taken from those attending reflect a sense of national pride in the role these young men took on for their countries. That they paid the ultimate price, with their lives, is honoured and treasured by both the nation as a whole, and by the subsequent generations of their families. The families pass on the stories about a loved, grandfather, father, cousin or uncle. Their families are a living tribute to their lives.
It is also a time when collectively as a nation, we reflect on the horrors of war and the tremendous cost in lives, to our families and our country. There is also a sense of hope, certainly a desire, that such loses should not be experienced again. A search and wish for peace.
It is honourable and fitting that we pause on such a day and reflect on the cost of war and the search for peace.
The reality is that these precious lives lost 84 years ago and honoured and treasured with such respect, have not been the last. NZ suffered losses in WWII, Vietnam and Afghanistan and more. (2007 was the first ANZAC day that was inclusive of our Vietnam veterans. There are currently 900 officers serving in operational capacities at overseas postings.)
It was hoped that WWI would be the war to end all wars. That nations and families would not endure such pain and grief again. This has not been the reality.
It is also not so easy to define war these days. It is not as clear cut. Participants may be oblivious to the fact that they are in a war. The combatants, the planners and the plotters may feel like they are acting righteously, standing up for their beliefs or politics and therefore justifying their war-like actions. The boundaries have become extremely blurred but the cost in lives continues to accelerate.
The 2002 Bali bombings killed 88 Australians and three New Zealanders. I doubt they thought they were in a war. I doubt their families, as they farewelled them on their journey, thought they were sending them off to war, or imagined that would be the last time they saw their loved ones.
Are terrorists misguided soldiers of war? Their actions are hailed as heroic deeds by their like-minded comrades, who take delight in the death toll. Are poor quality video messages declaring death on those who fail to believe as they believe, the new declarations of war? Could this been seen as the “modernization” of war protocol and would a text message suffice next time?
The London bombings, 7th July 2005 killed one Australian and one New Zealander, (my daughter Shelley), along with 50 other people. My daughter, was aware of the possibility of terrorist attacks, as we all were, following 9/11and the increased risk as a result of the actions of the US and British governments’ foray into Iraq. She marched in the protest in London against the move into Iraq. She was a peaceful person with respect for the diverse views and cultures of the world. She was not a soldier going knowingly into a war zone. She would not harm another person. She died as the result of an explosion on an underground tube. Another human being, carrying a bomb, carefully planned and timed the detonation to cause maximum damage, took her life. She was simply going about her daily life, on her way to work, planning her next trip, to Greece.
There were pictures on the TV of jubilant celebrations on the streets in Iraq, as the impact of the bombers’ strike on the London Underground became known. These comrades of the bombers, or at least ideologically aligned believers, sang and danced at the death of my daughter and the other 51 souls.
ANZAC day made me think about war; the taking of lives and Shelley’s death.
As a nation we pause and reflect on the courage and loss of lives of our soldiers. We see them as having fought for an honourable and just cause. We treat them with reverence and respect and at the same time, hope that we never again have to send our young men and women off on active duty. We see the futility of war as a way of resolving issues. We know the terrible cost of death. I know the terrible loss of my daughter.
I am not sure that there are any noble wars, where honour and right warrant the loss, or taking of lives. We know the horror of living with these losses. What we don’t seem to know is how to avoid such conflicts. On a global scale the old adage of might is right, still reigns.
I do know that terrorists are not brave soldiers, that no matter how they dress up their views, they are simply cowardly murders.
I paused on ANZAC day and remembered the dead and their families. I held Shelley’s love in my heart and remembered all those who died with her that day. A death is a death no matter how it comes about.
I have taken to heart a quote from Joan Baez, which I carry with me. It is my choice of action and it is part of what I am attempting to achieve on this blog.
Joan Baez b 1941
I would say that I’m a non-violent soldier.
In palce of weapons of violence, you have to use your mind,
your heart, your sense of humour, every faculty available to you
because no one has the right to take the life of another human being.
Arohanui,
KG
Arohanui,
KG
XX
