Lest We Forget

Anzac Day and we wake before dawn. A nation of sharply divided loyalties lighting candles and wandering to shrines in the half light to honour. Alone together we observe in rare silence the sacrifice of those who came before us. Who endured war and hardship, trials by fire and unfathomable loss of life. We feel the thread of connection that tugs deep within and imagine what we see in the news in our backyards as we pale by comparison.

Sacrifice is beyond what you must forego. It is from the Latin word sacrere; to make something sacred. Honorable, noble and often thankless or unseen despite great personal cost, sacrifice cherishes something more than itself. Made by those who went to war and those they left behind. It is humbling perspective.

Many of our ideas - that we assert as rights as Australians - are ours to have and to hold because people before us fought wars for them to stand, stories that steal our breath still. It is more than a blessing not to have been scorched by war or had to flee for our life: it is a privilege earned for us by others. That should rightfully engender compassion for those who stepped up for us all as warriors. Shamefully we remain a nation who does not care well for our veterans and locks up those who seek refuge from war here.

After the second world war when London had been bombed beyond belief, Churchill invited all Brits to plant a victory garden. To seed a future that would be collectively regrown, that one day would blossom and bloom from the rubble of what remained. Today at the going down of the sun I will plant poppies in my garden. To remember my grandfather Jack, who fought for what he believed in. To honour my son, currently serving in the RAAF. In hope for the future these flowers may bloom in.

I wonder where our country and our world will be then by the next turn of the wheel. I will muse long this year on what we are remembering as well as what we are currently turning a blind eye to through this revolution of our humanity. I will pray that all our sacrifices are treatedly reverently and equally.

Lest we forget.

It's a question of values. So I ask you, are we in this thing alone or are we in it together?
~ From the 1998 movie, Pleasantville


Words c. Kerrie Basha 2025