The 25th of April is a very important day for Australians and New Zealanders. It is called ANZAC Day and stands for the Australian and New Zealand Army Corps. It is the day that we stand still for a minute's silence at dawn and remember our fallen in times of war.
Throughout our two countries, millions of people will stand in quiet contemplation remembering those in our past who we knew or never got to know. It is about Courage and Patriotism and Unity. Many will march in solidarity for those who are worthy of honour to this day.
It is a day of giving thanks and showing respect for our forbears. It is one of the most important days on our calendar.
They must not - under any circumstances, like or be prepared to like or love Australia or New Zealand. The white South African farmers? Forget them! They are too much like us. No, new citizens must demand that we change in order to accommodate their culture, their ideals and their way of life BY LOSING OURS.
My very first Dawn Service was at St Faith’s Church in Rotorua, New Zealand. The steam was rising out of the tombs at the lakeside cemetery as the sun rose over Lake Rotorua. In the Church, the glass window showed Christ walking on water. He is portrayed wearing a traditional Maori Cloak and it was as if he was walking from the island in the middle of the lake to the shore of the lakefront.
It was bitterly cold; the air was still and the mist just starting to lift off the lake. As the bugler sounded out the Last Post, I felt chills throughout my body – not from the cold, but from the intense emotional atmosphere that surrounded me. Tears welled up from within me and I felt an overwhelming sense of Pride, Loss, Grief, Patriotism and genuine Humility.
I was 15 years old.
Later, on my way back to Ngongotaha, I could not speak. I did not wish to speak. I needed to be silent and contemplative. That day, all those years ago, I changed forever. I became an adult. The sheer enormity of what had led me to stand in the frigid Rotorua Dawn air was too huge for me to come to grips with. It was as if I had been confronted with Reality and the true essence of Courage, Fortitude, Honour and Sacrifice.
I ate some freshly baked ANZAC biscuits. Crunchy, Snappy and very nice. Back when they first surfaced, the humble Anzac biscuit reflected the time in which they were created. No eggs. Because many poultry farmers had risen to the call to head off to fight and eggs were very scarce.
There are so many stories about our humble bikkie. No one really knows whether they were sent to our troops, or merely baked as fundraisers. My limited research tells me that they had little sugar, no eggs, golden syrup and heaps of rolled oats.
They were humble. Honest Decent. Like Us.
Let us return to the old Recipes and save our traditions.
If we do not, then the Last Post may be more prophetic than we realise. Lest We Forget. Or will it be a matter of WE FORGOT.
