Lest we forget : approaching Anzac Day

This Anzac Day marks the 100th year since the landing of Australian & New Zealand soldiers at Gallipoli. Already we have seen in the media the unethical behaviour of companies cashing in on what promises to be a significant memorial with their products, merchandise and tag lines. It begs the question, what are we actually remembering?

Personally for me, in World War 1 my great Uncle William lost his life at Gallipoli and great Uncle Eric at the Somme. My father and most of my uncles, served during World War II. It is an unusual history for a person my age, as I came along 15 years after the war finished. Most children of WWII veterans are now approaching their 70’s. It means I have personal and immediate memories of an event that for most of my peers can only be discovered in documentaries & social media. My father enlisted in the Navy on 2nd April 1941 at the age of 24. He served on the HMAS Quickmatch and HMAS Wagga. He was away for 5 years visiting countries such as China, India, Burma, Sri Lanka, South Africa, Halifax, Scotland, England & the east coast of America. He was discharged in April 1946.

He didn’t talk much about what actually happened and the photos are few , but one story is seared in my mind. He recounted one night at sea, when Japanese subs had been spotted and began bombing ships in their fleet. They were given orders to immediately leave the area at full speed.

For a sailor working on deck, that meant for my father, watching his ship plough through the remnants of burning ships, oil slicks and hundreds of people floating in the water, crying out for someone to save them. They couldn’t stop otherwise they also would be bombed and join the watery grave. Such are the nightmares one takes with them after a war is over, along with the medals of valour.

After the war, my father suffered the effects of alcohol abuse. He was a lovely man, until the pressures of life were applied: a job loss, a family death – then he drank and the fighting transformed our home into a war zone. As I talk to other men whose fathers returned from WWII, there are similar stories. No doubt countless stories. There are those who lost their lives, and there are those who returned and kept losing parts of their lives.

There are two things I try to appreciate each Anzac Day. One is the enormity of the sacrifice made by others and the other is it’s on going implications for making my life so much better.

Firstly, remembering the cost of that sacrifice each year is good for us. Families sacrificed their sons to ensure future generations’ freedom. In an age of self-confessed narcissists, we need to honour people who were prepared to go without the ultimate ... their own life, for a future generation to have one. Presently, we seem to be unable to even go without anything, living beyond our means and racking up an enormous debt for another generation to sort out.

Let me flesh out the second implication. We forget how close the allies were to losing WWII. Have you ever seen that phrase on mugs with the emblem of the crown: “Keep calm and carry on”. Apparently these were printed posters delivered to all post offices and government buildings in the UK towards the latter part of WWII. They were kept under lock and key but officials were instructed that should Hitler invade England, they were to be displayed immediately on all public buildings. THAT’S HOW FRIGHTENINGLY CLOSE WE CAME TO LOSING THE WAR. We should never forget that the actions of people in our history changed the landscape we now enjoy & benefit from. Things could have been enormously different and I shudder to think of that world.

Of all the things Australians remember, surely Anzac Day comes closest to the essence of the Christian message: that God gives up His Son’s life so that we might live. Some atheists baulk at this, declaring it child abuse! What sort of a God allows that to happen to his child! Try saying that to the countless families who willingly counted the cost and gave up their sons (and daughters) to enlist and possibly never come back. Let’s be honest, we understand the concept of substitution. In fact Anzac Day is all about honouring the act. A text often quoted at Anzac ceremonies is actually a quote from Jesus referring to his imminent death. “Greater love has no one than this, than he lay down his life for his friends”. John’s Gospel chapter 15, verse 13.

It is worth remembering , pausing, & pondering the enormous cost of our freedom as Australians. Appreciating such extraordinary human behaviour, helps me grasp, somewhat feebly, a God prepared to give what is supremely precious to him to secure the ultimate rescue from sin. The sacrifice of one for the rest of humanity: it’s a reality. Simply because it happened 100 or 2,000 years ago doesn’t diminish its impact on lives today. We really did come this close (imagine fingers in pincer movement) to a very different outcome. This Saturday, honour my dad, his mates, the Anzacs before them and even consider thanking Jesus. Genuine sacrifice is always worth honouring ... and exploring.