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Today here in Aus we celebrate ANZAC Day, it is 97 years since our young Aussie and New Zealand men stormed the beaches at Gallipoli to be met by waiting soldiers in the cliff, thousands were killed on that day. My own grandfather was one of those young men, some were as young as 14 and we choose this day to honour them and those that served since. Dawn services are held all over the country, in cities and country towns and overseas in Gallipoli on the cliffs above the beaches where it happened. Usually a March happens, and even though numbers now dwindle children, grandchildren and even grandchildren march in memory. Then the usual tradition is to retire to local RSL clubs (services clubs) for a few drinks and a talk with mates. One other thing that often happens is that we bake Anzac biscuits, (cookies).
I was born 10 years after the end of World War II so it was still pretty fresh in people's minds, and often at school on Anzac Day we would be asked to bring our father's medals to show and tell any stories. It was always embarrassing for me, my Dad always made light of what he had done during the War, said he was a radio operator, and with a smirk on his face said I just sat around in the trees, which seemed so lame when other kids would talk about their father's heroic deeds. The most I could come up was that he was dishonourably discharged from the Army. Apparently he had joined underage at 16, was about to sail in the evening and his mother found out and reported him, luckily for him, the ship sunk and most of his mates were killed.
The year before my Dad died he sent off for his military record and I remember him saying that not everything was entered on there. A couple of months before his death he met up with the men from his unit for lunch, it was the first time he had seen them since the War. Three weeks before he died he suddenly said out of the blue, I spoke Japanese, he still didn't say much and I found out later that the secrecy provisions would be lifted soon, think it must have been 50 years. Anyway after he died I found out he had been a member of one of special intelligence squads, his job was to listen to the Japanese radio and translate and pass on any information. My aunt told me one day that the police came to the home and investigated all the family. I just find it so sad that he never had the opportunity to tell me all about it, but I found a photo in a book about special intelligence and there was his photo with his unit. Never have I felt prouder of him.
RIP - Pop, Poppy, Dad, Mum, Uncle Jim (those that served in World I and II)
I was born 10 years after the end of World War II so it was still pretty fresh in people's minds, and often at school on Anzac Day we would be asked to bring our father's medals to show and tell any stories. It was always embarrassing for me, my Dad always made light of what he had done during the War, said he was a radio operator, and with a smirk on his face said I just sat around in the trees, which seemed so lame when other kids would talk about their father's heroic deeds. The most I could come up was that he was dishonourably discharged from the Army. Apparently he had joined underage at 16, was about to sail in the evening and his mother found out and reported him, luckily for him, the ship sunk and most of his mates were killed.
The year before my Dad died he sent off for his military record and I remember him saying that not everything was entered on there. A couple of months before his death he met up with the men from his unit for lunch, it was the first time he had seen them since the War. Three weeks before he died he suddenly said out of the blue, I spoke Japanese, he still didn't say much and I found out later that the secrecy provisions would be lifted soon, think it must have been 50 years. Anyway after he died I found out he had been a member of one of special intelligence squads, his job was to listen to the Japanese radio and translate and pass on any information. My aunt told me one day that the police came to the home and investigated all the family. I just find it so sad that he never had the opportunity to tell me all about it, but I found a photo in a book about special intelligence and there was his photo with his unit. Never have I felt prouder of him.
RIP - Pop, Poppy, Dad, Mum, Uncle Jim (those that served in World I and II)
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