Quiet remembrance

I arrived at the Shrine of Remembrance a little late, because it took me a long time to find a car space. I ended up having to walk quite a distance and was amazed at the number of people there for the ANZAC Day Dawn Service. The most striking thing about it all? It was cold and dark and there were so many people that you couldn't make your way through the crowd...but it was silent. Not a sound. So much so that it was eerie.













This is the eternal flame.

The sun hadn't come up when I got there, and there was a new moon in the sky that just seemed so right. Nobody spoke while the service was on and everybody sang the national anthem near the end. That surprised me in a good way, considering we're prone to making fun of our national anthem.

When I went a couple of years ago, there were a lot of families. This time, there were families, but also young couples, lots of people taking photos, but what I thought was really great, was the number of groups of young guys - late teens to early 20s. This was 6am, before sunrise and on a public holiday. Young guys don't usually get out of bed in those circumstances unless it's on fire. Made me proud, in a way.

As usual, I took lots of photos, but they're not fantastic because there wasn't a lot of light. I got some good sunrise shots, but they don't come close to showing how amazing the sunrise really was. I'll post about 30 pics (I took about 85, plus video!) to my other blog sometime during today.

I didn't stay to watch the march. I couldn't find my gloves and my hands were getting so cold that it was quite painful, so a couple more hours in the cold wasn't looking appealing. I'm not sure if you can tell from the photos, but my fingers were so red. I've been in the snow and my hands didn't hurt so much as they did this morning.

In Flanders Fields

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

The name of John McCrae (1872-1918) may seem out of place in the distinguished company of World War I poets, but he is remembered for what is probably the single best-known and popular poem from the war, "In Flanders Fields." He was a Canadian physician and fought on the Western Front in 1914, but was then transferred to the medical corps and assigned to a hospital in France. He died of pneumonia while on active duty in 1918. His volume of poetry, In Flanders Fields and Other Poems, was published in 1919.