Virtual
War Memorial
Australia

Born in England, went to South Africa and served in the' Boer
War, joined the Australian army early in World War I and became
one of the immortal band of .Anzacs, the name given to the troops of
the Australian and New Zealand Army Corps This was the early life
of one Anzac.

After completion of training in Egypt the Anzacs were destined
to make history at Gallipoli, in Turkey, where on April 25th, 1915,
they, with regular UK troops and some Marines and French troops
made epic landings against heavy opposition, with considerable losses
on both sides, but the Allies did make their precarious landings.

The Anzacs made up in physique and enthusiasm for their short
military training - the many headstones in the Anzac military
cemeteries testify this.

Naturally, after it was over all wanted to forget about it, but, as
usual, after the passage of years the wish to revisit the scene became
a longing with many; in fact in some cases an obsession which cannot
be understood by many of the present generation. Our Anzac was one
of these.
Over the years he had recalled the Gallipoli peninsula and
longed to revisit his old gun pit - if it was still to be found. When he
found a pilgrimage party being organized in England he joined
enthusiastically, with his wife. This was fifty years on, and he was at
this stage over eighty: a very gallant gentleman, living in England.

The pilgrimage party was primarily for UK veterans who had
served there, but we welcomed our Anzac, and another one, making
up representatives from all Divisions, including the Royal Naval
Division, but without any French veterans. The party duly set •off and

the first contact with the old Mediterranean Expeditionary Force was
a short call at Mudros, the bay where the whole of the Allied fleet
assembled in the week before the Landing. From there we steamed
towards the Dardanelles; near the ,entrance we stood on deck or wherever
we might be for a minute, in memory of those who lost their lives at se'a in

the action.
Up the Dardanelles by night and a stay of two days in Istanbul
where a parade was held and a wreath laid at a Turkish war memorial.
Next down the Dardanelles to the Narrows, staying at Chanakkale
on the Asian coast. In the morning we crossed to the Gallipoli
peninsula near old X Beach and landed for the first parade, at the
Turkish war memorial where a wreath was laid. Then down to Cape

Helles where wreaths were laid at the British war memorial by the
pilgrims as a whole, then by individual regiments, etc. After this we
broke up for our individual sightseeing for those who had been in the
Cape Helles area, roaming as far afield as Krithia, where we found
their local war museum of great interest, seeing our equipment, etc,
from the former enemy's point of view.

For our second day on the Peninsula we were first to visit Anzac
Cove, then on to Suvla Bay for those who had served in these places.
The Anzac, a very friendly, wise and much-travelled Anzac, had
in the intervening years seen life in many parts of the world. Although
serving in the Anzac forces in 1915 he had long left that continent. At
this time' of his life his main ambition was to revisit Anzac Cove~ and
especially his old gun pit, or traces of it.

He was a philosopher and
would discount the modern bustle of life by saying that we worry too
much over trifles, such as just missing a bus, or if the electricity fails,
or something transient, always ending with: "It's not a matter of life or
and death.'

Earlier that morning I had joined him. in a walk around
Chanakkale: he had said that he hadn't a care in the world and he
enjoyed life to the full.

We crossed the Narrows to Eceabat, near the old Maidos, and went
by coaches across to Anzac Cove. It was noticed by those in his coach
that the Anzac became more and more excited as we approached. The
guide with the first coach, in which was the Anzac, arranged for the
stop to be a little. beyond the Clove for traffic reasons. Friends noted
that the Anzac worried over this; he would rather have stopped right at
the Cove.

But it was only a short walk back to the Cove and the party
left the coach at the Anzac cemetery by the roadside. The Anzac
stepped forward too but fell immediately.

Later on, when we had time to adjust ourselves to the situation,
it was agreed that this was a fine way to go out. Up to that moment a
long and happy life with no worries; now, attaining a half-century wish
and being at last once again where he had spent an eventful and exciting
time in his younger days. To us of course it was a tragedy, but for the

Anzac, an octogenarian who knew that his circulation was such that he
might expire at any moment, whatmore would he have asked?
I had known that at an Anzac pilgrimage two weeks earlier one
of their veterans had fallen in almost exactly similar circumstances.

We were accompanied by a most helpful representative of the War
Graves Commission who had also been present at the previous tragedy.

Because of this he was able to expedite the proceedings by arranging
for burial that day at the Christian cemetery at Chanakkale. At sunset
that day the whole of our party of veterans, one hundred strong,
medals worn, marched with the Anzac for the last time, leaving him
in company with his fellow-Anzac from the earlier pilgrimage.

I sometimes think of the quirk of fate, which, with the Anzac's
exhortation: 'Why worry, it isn't a life and death matter' finally found
in the excitement of the return to Anzac once again, that just missing
the actual landing place at Anzac 'Cove, did prove to be a matter of

life and death.

So passed a very fine gentleman, the Anzac

From the very first edition of the journal of The Gallipoli Association; The Gallipolian (Christmas 1969)