Tomorrow (April 25) is Anzac Day in Australia and New Zealand. This day - in Australia at least: I can't speak for my Kiwi cousins - is as close to sacred as anything in Oz ever gets. Anzac is technically a misspelling - it's an acronym for Australia New Zealand Army Corps, the combined army that was sent to help the 'mother country' in World War One, and should be spelled ANZAC.
The day commemorates the start of one of the more spectacular military errors made in the 20th century. With the entirely sensible intention of freeing the Dardanelles to allow Allied shipping into the Black Sea, the British generals planned to land on a lightly-defended beach in South Turkey and move rapidly inland to take the Turkish gun emplacements from behind. Instead, at dawn on the 25th of April, 1915, the Allied army, consisting mostly of Anzacs with British commanding officers, found itself attempting to land at the bottom of a cliff well defended by Turkish gunners.
Despite determined defense, the Anzacs made the landing and entrenched. There they remained for nine months of fierce fighting that so impressed the Turkish defenders their leader is reputed to have said "They are our sons too." More than once Anzac troops captured the heights, but without support from disbelieving British officers had to abandon the gun emplacements and retreat back to their entrenched positions in the cliffs.
To this day the war cemeteries at Gallipoli are sacred to Australians, New Zealanders, and Turks. In recent years the Australian tradition of the Anzac Day dawn service has taken root on the Gallipoli cliffs, and draws huge numbers of Australians, New Zealanders and Turks to the ecumenical ceremony.
Anzac Day in Australia begins with a dawn service. This is always ecumenical, commemorating the sacrifice in life, blood and suffering for an ideal. The service is held in Returned Services League clubs throughout the nation, and always ends with the Ode to the Fallen:
They shall not grow old
As we that are left grow old.
Age shall not weary them
Nor the years condemn
But at the going down of the sun
And in the morning
We will remember them.
(We will remember)
Lest we forget.
This ode is always preceded by the Last Post, and followed by the Reveille after a minute's silence - a tradition preserved in the RSL clubs at 6pm (sunset, roughly) every night.
After the service, breakfast is provided to the Diggers (the old soldiers and current troops), the band providing music for the service and the later parade, and anyone else who is in the club at the time (usually relatives).
Some time later, the band or bands take their position, and the Diggers and their families form into their units to prepare for the parade. All of the World War One units and many World War Two units are now represented by the children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren of soldiers, all of them proudly wearing their forbears' service medals.
The whole procession moves off at a slow march, towards the local war memorial. There's one in every city and every town, as well as in many suburbs. Each unit has a wreath carrier, and at the memorial, each unit's wreath is laid respectfully in place before the memorial is saluted. The big cities have eternal flames at their memorials, since they typically list many more soldiers who never returned. The wreaths are laid at the base of the eternal flame, and the flame saluted.
The whole event continues until all wreaths have been laid and the procession returns to the RSL, where volunteers have prepared lunch for all participants. Many of the veterans drink copious amounts of beer to soften their memories and allow them to relax once more in the company of their mates. Ceremonial games of two-up (a simple gambling game, technically illegal but quietly ignored this one day of the year) are played, and veterans reminisce about the good times while doing their best to forget the bad.
Anzac biscuits are usually provided by one or another of the volunteers. These oatmeal and coconut cookies are traditional Anzac Day fare. They got their name because the substitution of Golden Syrup (a sugar by-product) for eggs made them effectively everlasting so they could be sent to soldiers serving at Gallipoli and later the trenches in France despite a several week ocean journey. Batches made at home rarely test their ability to last forever - the sweet, chewy treats invariably vanish within a few days.
The best Anzac biscuits are chewy, not crisp, and have the distinct taste of Golden Syrup. Molasses and treacle do not make viable substitutes.
The day generally ends with a final visit to the memorial before heading home for dinner. It's significant that hedonistic Australians have resisted every attempt to make Anzac Day a permanent long weekend, and perhaps even more significant that, to the best of my knowledge, Australia is the only nation that chooses to commemorate her war dead on the anniversary of a defeat.
The light-hearted summary is usually, "Without those people we'd all be speaking German or Japanese," but the sentiment beneath it is no less heartfelt. Australians are not, as a rule, given to overt patriotism outside the sports field, but we still remember that we owe a great deal to the people who defend us, even when the war they are fighting isn't a popular one.
I have no idea if this happens in other nations, but in Australia it's quite common for representatives of our former enemies to march beside the units they fought against. This began with German units, and has slowly spread as the children and grandchildren of soldiers from other nations wish to express their pride in their forebears. There was more resistance to allowing Japanese units to march than to allowing Vietnamese units - despite the unpopularity of the Vietnam war in Australia - something that says more about Australia's memories of Japanese treatment of prisoners of war than of racism. Where possible, Australia gave Japanese soldiers and sailors burial according to their traditions and after the end of the war offered to send the remains back to their families.
How many other nations would be so forgiving towards the representatives of a nation who treated their prisoners - and other nationalities - as less than human? How many would make the distinction between soldiers and sailors doing their duty for their homeland and the people who made the decisions that sent them into combat?
I personally don't know of many.
So, in the spirit of Anzac Day, of commemorating the sacrifice of those who serve their country irrespective of what we think of the cause, have an Anzac biscuit, and remember:
They shall not grow old
As we that are left grow old.
Age shall not weary them
Nor the years condemn.
But at the going down of the sun
And in the morning,
We will remember them.
We will remember.
Lest we forget.
Kate
Anzac biscuit recipe:
1 cup flour
1 cup sugar
1 cup shredded coconut
1 cup rolled oats
2 tablespoons Golden Syrup (This can be ordered from
www.simplyoz.com if there's no World Market in your area. It lasts forever, so don't worry about it going bad.)
1/4 teaspoon bicarbonate of soda/baking soda
1/4 teaspoon vanilla essence (optional)
2 tablespoons boiling water
1 stick/4 oz butter.
Mix all dry ingredients except the soda in a large bowl.
Melt butter and golden syrup together over low heat (or in microwave on low)
Add soda to boiling water (be careful, it will fizz) and stir in.
Add soda and water to butter and golden syrup.
Add vanilla to liquid mix.
Make a well in the dry ingredients and pour liquid mix in. Mix together all ingredients until the mixture is damp and holds together when pressured.
Spoon approximately 1 tablespoon onto a well greased flat tray. Each spoonful will become one biscuit, and they will expand, so leave space.
Cook for 15-20 minutes at a medium heat (approximately 130-150C or around 250F) until golden brown.
Leave to cool for a short time before attempting to remove - the biscuits will be very soft and fall apart until they've cooled a little. They're particularly delicious when still warm. A glass of milk makes the perfect accompaniment.
You'll get about 12 biscuits out of a batch this size.