 |
| Last view: This island off Albany, Western Australia, may well have been the last view of Australia for the many Anzacs who sailed from the city bound for Turkey during WWI. |
Last year the kids and I got up way before the sun, as we and many other Kiwis and Aussies do every year on April 25, to commemorate what may seem a rather strange day to other nationalities: the landing and consequent massive slaughter of our troops at Gallipoli, in Turkey, in 1915 as part of WWI.
It's a day that needs to be accompanied by a handbag overflowing with tissues - I invariably fail my resolution not to cry. How impossible that is, when listening to the haunting sounds of the Last Post and the following minute's silence, the patriotic singing of our entwined nations' national anthems, seeing the lowered flags raised, the soldiers' ranks being slowly overtaken with children bearing the medals of their grandfathers. And over it all, the ever-present images of our many doomed young men sent by foolish British commanders to their almost-certain deaths at the hands of "Johnny Turk", who lined Gallipoli's cliffs overlooking Suvla Bay to equally bravely defend his nation from the Allies below.
It's a day when our nations remember all those who served, gave their lives or were injured in war on our behalf. Lest we forget.
Now that's all well and good. However, last year's service locally - and I suspect this was widely mirrored in other places around Australia - was embarrassing for a particular reason: we had a fantastic contribution from the city's Maori inhabitants; this is not that surprising considering that this place is somewhat cheekily regarded as the "Kiwi capital of Australia", but it served to highlight the lack of recognition/participation of Australia's own indigenous peoples.
Once again, Aboriginal and Torres Strait people were sidelined. Why? It is a question that was burning in my head throughout last year's Anzac Day service, and one I wish I had have done something about. Maybe our indigenous soldiers don't want to be singled out for attention over their comrades, but when NZ's indigenous people go to the trouble to pay their respects as part of the ceremony, surely we could match their contribution with some sort of acknowledgement to or from Aboriginal Australians, even if it's a simple Welcome to Country. Anything less is just embarrassing. And it was just that during last year's service. And sadly, I could have contacted the Returned and Services League, local indigenous groups or written in the media to try to get what I consider to be an omission rectified, or at the very least I could have asked why there was no matching participation/acknowledgement from/by local indigenous groups. But I didn't.
More fool me. Now this year all I can do is cross my fingers and hope for the best, because really it's probably too close to the day to do anything about it. I vow that if my hopes aren't realised this year, I'm going to speak out loudly in time for next year's service. I vow this on behalf of people like my uncle Ted - a close family friend who happens to be of Aboriginal descent and a Vietnam vet - who deserve to be better recognised.
In the not-so-distant past many of our brothers fought in our nation's armed forces but on their return home were not considered fit to be citizens of Australia, to keep their light-skinned children, to be able to enjoy a beer, nor to walk freely in our towns.
I suspect many non-indigenous Australians tend to sweep these facts under the carpet because we are secretly ashamed of our history of injustice towards the first Australians.
Yes, we have a shameful past in this regard and yes, there are still many steps to take towards a fairer future, but they are steps we are well able to walk together. It's time to make a future of which we can all be proud.
This year I am particularly remembering and honouring our Aboriginal Anzacs. I hope you will join me.
 |
| The flag of Aboriginal Australians. |