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Heather Mills - Amputee Forum
Cat

ANZAC

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Outside the Commonwealth nations you may not have heard of ANZAC Day.

Today is the day we remember the heroes of our armed services.

Whatever your feelings about war and conflict, the wars are created by those that don't fight them. The humble soldier is the hero.

So today we Aussies remember our heroes. For me that's two Grandfathers.

ANZAC Day is the anniversary of two important battles in WW1

In Turkey our troops arrived on the shores of Gallipoli and were faced with a slaughter.

In France, 3 years later, our Diggers drove the German army out of the French village of Villiers-Bretonneux, at a huge cost.

They shall grow not 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.

Lest we Forget

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Happy Anzac Day Cat.............

Here in the US we have 2 days similar to that ..... In May we have Memorial Day, remembering all our fallen , and in November, we have Veteran's Day.. in rememberance of all of the verterans who have served our country.....

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That was beautiful, Cat.

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A lovely thought.... No matter how one may feel about a specific war or battle, I have nothing but respect for the servicepeople who are willing to risk their lives to preserve ours.

Thanks for sharing, Cat.

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Its a lovely poem Cat has quoted from by Laurence Binyon ; I attach the whole .

For The Fallen

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 our tears.

They went with songs to the battle, they were young,

Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.

They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted;

They fell with their faces to the foe.

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:

Age shall not weary them, nor the years contemn.

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 of home;

They have no lot in our labour of the day-time;

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 that shall 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.

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