Family pride and honour on Anzac Day
NO MATTER how old I get, no matter how far removed I am from my grandfather and great grandfather, I still swell with pride every Anzac Day when I take a moment to remember what they did and how they carried themselves.
My grandfather passed away only months before I was born, but for as long as I can remember his war portrait hung proudly in our family home.
My uncle and father are the spitting image of that man and I too carry his eyes so I would stare at that picture and wonder about the grandfather I would never meet.
He survived the war. Had he not, I would not be here today.
He was a Rat of Tobruk and was part of the Battle of El Alamein, a source of pride for me as I grew up and learned about those battles.
Upon his return to Australia he went AWOL and headed to North Queensland to see his lover, my future grandmother, before the MPs managed to catch up to him and inform him he would be training in the jungles of Queensland.
He had done them a favour.
He was to train for more action in the Pacific theatre where he would face off against the enemy in the jungles of South-East Asia.
When my grandfather finally returned from war he packed everything he had from the army into his foot locker on base, closed it and left it behind.
I will always honour what he did.