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Married with one teenager. Love reading most genre, ok not scary stuff!!! Interested in genealogy. Have been tracing my family history since 1985. If you come across any errors or inconsistencies on this blog, please contact me so that I might look at correcting it or at least make a note that there are inconsistencies (which unfortunately happens)

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Sunday, April 26, 2015

Anzac day 2015

Set the alarm for 4.30 am so that we could go to the local Dawn Service. Quick shower and wrap up because it will be chilly. Wake up daughter, her boyfriend and a girlfriend who has stayed over. Make hot drinks to wrap our hands around while waiting for the service to start. At 5.00 am, bundle everyone into the car for the 10 minute drive.

A big crowd is building for this years 100th celebration. Find a car park easily enough and make our way onto the oval. Find a position that will allow us to have a slight view. Being height challenged, sometimes this is not always possible, and as per normal the view moves during the service. Thankfully there are some big screens positioned around the area and the sound is good.

6.00 am .... the service starts and the crowd hushes.The service is nice and as normal a lump in the throat and a feeling of pride.

The bugler plays the Last Post. A minutes silence. Then the bugler plays The Rouse.

An eerie sound that brings tears to your eyes and a lump to your throat.

They shall not grow old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning,
We will remember them.



Go to the Australian War Memorial website for more information, pictures etc. just like this amazing image below


Ode of Remembrance - Anzac Day 2015 - 100 Years



Ode of Remembrance
by Laurence Binyon
 First Published September 21, 1914


With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children,
England mourns for her dead across the sea.
Flesh of her flesh they were, spirit of her spirit,
Fallen in the cause of the free.

Solemn the drums thrill: Death august and royal,
Sings sorrow up into immortal spheres.
There is music in the midst of desolation,
And a glory that shines upon her tears.

They went with songs to the battle, they were young.
Straight of limb, true of eyes, steady and aglow.
They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted,
They fell with their faces to the foe.

They shall not grow old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning,
We will remember them.

They mingle not with their laughing comrades again;
They sit no more at familiar tables at home;
They have no lot in our labour of the daytime;
They sleep beyond England's foam.

But where our desires are and our hopes profound,
Felt as a well-spring that is hidden from sight,
To the innermost heart of their own land they are known,
As the stars are known to the night.

As the stars will be bright when we are dust,
Moving in marches upon the heavenly plain;
As the stars that are starry in the time of our darkness,
To the end, to the end, they remain.

...............
LEST WE FORGET