ANZAC Day is an important day on the Australian and New Zealand calendar, but for people not from this part of the world “Down Under” it can be hard to explain how or why it is so important. There have been some great tributes posted as part of the ANZAC Project which was kicked off by our Kiwi friend and while I’ve offered up a STEEM Round to try and encourage people to get involved with such a great initiative I have struggled personally with putting anything into words. Writers Bloc can be quite savage when the subject just seems so important that you want to make sure you do it justice.
I wanted to participate in the ANZAC Project and for a while I thought I wanted to write about an Unsung Hero on the Turkish side of the conflict. Maybe even the story of this unknown Turkish soldier who carried a wounded Australian officer back to Australian lines under a white flag. The risk of being controversial is not a big concern for me, but at the same time I do not want to take the risk of being disrespectful. The main reason I wanted to talk about the Turkish side is because I want to make the point that the tragedy of war affects everyone. Remembrance for me is not about what side anyone fought on, but instead acknowledging the horror and sacrifice of everyone touched by it. I wasn’t always this way though….
The significance of ANZAC Day changed for me when I went on a pilgrimage to Gallipoli in 2009 and my mind opened up to a new perspective. I was initially apprehensive about travelling to Turkey. I knew that culturally the Turks were very different and I was aware that in the context of history it was the ANZACs who were the invaders and the Turks were defending their homeland. I wanted to pay my respects to the ANZACs yet I thought it might be dangerous for us Westerners to be visiting an old battleground that might still be a sore point for the locals. Nothing could be further from the truth.
The Turks were very friendly and hospitable. The above monument is at ANZAC Cove and the quote attributed to Ataturk really sums up the Turks attitude toward the ANZACs. It is one of the most moving and compassionate quotes I’ve read and I wasn’t even aware of it until I stood in front of it. Mustafa Kemal Ataturk was the commander of the Turkish forces at Gallipoli so he had every reason to hate the ANZACs. His own military genius is probably the main reason why the Gallipoli campaign failed for the Allied forces and his personal story is an amazing one. In Australia a lot has been made of the horror of the battles at places like The Nek (which was immortalised in Mel Gibsons movie “Gallipoli”) but there were horrific losses on the Turkish side too. Initially when the ANZACs landed the Turks were outnumbered and outgunned. Ataturk famously told his troops :-
"I don’t order you to fight, I order you to die. In the time it takes us to die, other troops and commanders can come and take our places."
They did indeed die. They did their duty and laid down their lives, just like we did. For their families and for their homeland. Lest We Forget.
On our pilgrimage we visited the Turkish memorial (above) and also the ANZAC one at Lone Pine. The sense of loss and regret was the same at both of them. It was definitely not a place where I felt any kind of nationalist pride.
When we got to the top of Chunuk Bair it became obvious why there was such a fiercely fought battle on this ground. The views in every direction from these heights were magnificent. Here you can see all the way down to the coast.
Some of the old trenches, now over 100 years old, are still there. This was where the brave New Zealanders fought a famous battle to take the heights, only for them to be lost again to a counter-attack just days later. It was here that the Gallipoli campaign ultimately stalled and failed.
After travelling to Gallipoli and seeing all this with my own eyes it changed me. The memorials were very sombre, but it was the comraderie that really changed my perspective. This sense that the ANZACs and the Turks went through it all together, forever bonded in a form of brotherhood. It is very hard to explain let alone write about, but if you ever get the chance to go and experience Gallipoli for yourself please do.
LEST WE FORGET