First Anzac.

I attended my first ANZAC Parade this morning, a Dawn Service as well as the march and following service. There are various reasons why I haven't attended a service before, however this morning I had a very good reason to attend; my 14 year old son was marching and participating in his role as a AAFC...an Australian Air Force Cadet.

My Family, in past generations, are military families, to a certain extent. Army and Airforce, as well as some non-military merchant seamen thrown in for good measure( one of my "great" relatives was a Stoker on the Titanic, which is quite ironic, as he was not a very pleasant individual by all accounts )
In a sense, it was because my Family were military that I hadn't attended a march/service before, but thats a longer story within itself.
The closest I ever came to joining up was being an Army Cadet at school, but as it would turn out, in later life I became part of a civilian based security unit working with similar units from various countries in the early 1990's. I have seen things which I would not wish on anyone, but I dare not compare it to the soldiers of the past or present, it merely gives me an appreciation of the greater sorrows they have seen and experienced, and the respect that goes with those thoughts.
Never having seen active service, as our soldiers have done, I would never presume to know how servicemen/women and ex-service men and women feel about there experiences, however I would say I could totally empathise with the images which must constantly be with them, and the subsequent emotions associated with those images.

From this mornings activities, there are two scenes which standout for me, very differant on the outside, but very much the same on the inside.
I got my motorcycle licence before I got my car licence, and have always had bikes in my life. When I was 40 I joined the Ulysses Club, as a present to myself..lol. This morning, the Vietnam Vets arrived at the Dawn Services, the rumble of the bikes making the ground and air vibrate, deep within everyone who was present. I was too young to go to Vietnam, missed out by four years, however I have worked and been associated with alot of Vets, so seeing these men and woman arrive was amazing. The guys I've known over the years would speak very little about their "tours", occassionally letting small stories out as we spoke, instances of fear and horror, images and emotions they keep inside as they are not only too hard to describe, but also in the knowledge that many would not understand. I talked often with a friend of mine, a man from an English Father/Chinese Mother who was born and raised in Shanghai, and was used by the Americans as a linguist during much of the Vietnam conflict. The scenes he came across, like many, many of the Vets, was soul destroying, and made him question much of his life's teachings. Resolution was not part of Ron's life, just "placement" of what happened, within his heart, was the best he could do. As the Vets on their bikes parked up and gathered together, I looked at them, asking, "What have you seen, what have you been through, for your country" (Forgive me if this sounds cliche, it honestly is not meant to be). These men, and the woman with them just quietly gathered together and sat, and at the end of the service they stood and without any pomp or ceremony, rode away as a group. The bonds between these Vets was obvious, the emotion was clear, as many had tears streaming down their faces as they shook hands with oneanother, few words spoken nor needed, as no words could come close to what they were obviously remembering and sharing, silently, with each in that group. The most noticeable aspect was the older Veterans from skirmishes prior to Vietnam...why....because they all looked at the Vets andd tears were running down there faces also, a bond across years, regardless of politics and governmental blunders and decisions.

The second, very touching, scenario was an older Veteran who stood and placed a Wreath on behalf of the soldiers who fought in Tobruk. This gentleman was in his 80's, tall, and in his younger years would of been a very impressive figure. When his name was called, he quietly stood, and with the aid of a cane, walked with stiff legs to the Shrine, gently placed the Wreath, and as he slowly stood up, placed his hand on his Heart and stood for a short time in silence. After a time, he simply nodded to the Wreath, slowly turned and made his way back to his seat. Why did this ex-serviceman effect me so, I truely don't know, but I remember thinking that he has seen much in this world, I wonder what he has told anyone about his thoughts, and whether anyone has actually asked him what is in his Heart and what he'd like to share.

I have friends who are currently serving, or have just finished their time in the service. One young man has just finished his third tour of Afghanistan, and he's not even 24. Another man, a person whom I hold very dear, with total respect, still serves. He speaks more with his eyes than his words, even if he doesn't realise it...:).

During both services this morning, I looked around me at the people present, and then looked at my young son in his Dress Uniform, and I admit, easily, I was filled with pride at the personal discipline he displayed. He is one of the most gentlest people I know, and would never hurt anyone or anything intentionally, but the pride was still there, as he stood in his uniform, alongside other Cadets as well as Soldiers from the past. The thought of him going into active service overseas, when he's old enough, filled me with dread, but those feelings are natural as his Dad. The greater emotion was "That is my son, he is growing up and making his own pathway". My chin quivered, and a tear rolled down my face.
After the service, he came up to me and put his arms around me and said "I'm tired, old man"(he calls me that very lovingly), and when I told him I was proud of him and that I loved him, he stood back, and placing a hand on my shoulder he said "I love you too, Dad".

Why am I so open about these type of moments and write about them: because too often we hide moments like these, we don't allow them to happen, and we don't tell our children or the ones we love how much we love them, and appreciate them for who they are. In turn, for me, including this moment between my son and I is also part of ANZAC Day and similar moments in life......do we show the respect and appreciation to the ones who deserve it, or do we just let things go by without acknowledging the sacrifices made by others for us.....do we say the things which need to be said, or do we hide behind barriers created within our own minds, for whatever reasons.

Just my thoughts: