What Anzac Day means to us all
That Anzac spirit is a unique and defining quality
As we approach Anzac Day this year and I sit down to write this column after a very busy weekend out in our community, it’s a chance to reflect on what Anzac Day means to each of us.
My 23 years of military service took me to Afghanistan, East Timor, the Solomon Islands, Europe (in support of Ukraine), PNG, Fiji, and various humanitarian operations in New Zealand. During these operations, I saw the very best of Kiwis, that the indelible Anzac spirit lives on today. That Anzac spirit is a unique and defining quality, one that sets us apart from all other nations, and it’s something of which we should all be justifiably proud.
I saw it in Timor as a dozen people clambered over a helicopter to get it airborne in record time to stop a riot. I saw it in Afghanistan as a dozen Kiwi special forces soldiers rolled out the gates of our compound at a moment’s notice to stop a major terrorist attack on a local hotel. I saw it in New Zealand as helicopter crews raced to
get airborne to winch people from rooftops in floods.
That same Anzac spirit that led 100,000 Kiwis to leave towns like ours 110 years ago lives on today. I’m proud that no matter what the challenge, our New Zealand Defence Force is always willing and able to respond: A cyclone in Fiji, a volcanic eruption at White Island, a humanitarian evacuation from Kabul, or training soldiers to fight in
Ukraine. The women and men who serve today don’t seek conflict, but they’re ready to serve in conflict zones if that is the only way to bring peace, to be a light in the darkness and a beacon of hope in a hurting world.
But, if I’m really honest, I always feel inadequate when I think about my grandparents’ war service, and what our servicemen and women went through in World War I, World War II, Malaya, and Vietnam. How can I compare my time in Afghanistan, or peace-keeping around the world, to what many of them must have gone through? I’m in awe of their service, humbled by the price so many paid, and grateful for all who served and returned — most with scars, some of them visible scars, none of them ever to be the same.
On Anzac Day we do not celebrate war, but rather we honour the service and sacrifice of those who went to war, those who went in the hope of saving our country, and the world, for future generations. To quote my late father, we must “remember the mateship, agony, courage and compassion of war service, but save us from ever glorifying the horror and tragedy of war”. To me, Dad has captured the very essence of Anzac Day. It’s a day to celebrate service and sacrifice, not the wars and conflicts in which those sacrifices were made. Thank you to each and every one of you for turning up to join me in doing exactly that.
I will forever be proud to have served, and immensely proud of those who served with me, but I will always be in awe of the service and sacrifice of those who went before me, and in particular, those who never returned home.
Ka maumahara tonu tā tou ki a rā tou. Lest we forget.