Lest We Forget

My Anzac Prayer

Of love and liberty, we bring our thanks this day for the peace and security we enjoy, which was won for us through the courage and devotion of those who gave their lives in time of war. We pray that their labour and sacrifice may not be in vain, but that their spirit may live on in us and in generations to come. That the liberty, truth and justice which they sought to preserve may be seen and known in all the nations upon earth.

Great Pic Carl

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Greater love has no one than this,
that one lay down his life for his friends. John 15:13

Thanks to the soldiers of days gone by
In remembrance I give a sigh
For the beautiful country that I love
By their sweat, their pain and their love
They gave me peace to enjoy
I salute them and give a HOY!

And to the soldiers of today
I will sit and then I’ll pray
That peace and joy will come their way
And no more war for another day

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 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 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.

Laurence Binyon (1869–1943)

Let us think today of the hero's who didn't come home and respect those who did. Lest we forget

THE LAST POST

Lest We Forget.
Absent mates remembered.

I went for a march this morning through the Perth CBD and was astounded at the numbers. I usually march with the Ginger Beers, as my original unit is no longer represented. The numbers were fantastic.

There were about 3 times the number of Engineers marching this year as compared to last year, and the crowds were just as big as in previous years (about 30,000) - although initially, it seemed that there was less. This was because the march route this year was reversed, and made longer due to construction projects.

I never seem to find the same people in the march. Mates move from State to State - grey nomads drop in once, and you never see them again - and mates decide they are going to local services, rather than make the big trip to the city.

Stood alongside a stranger, whilst waiting for the march to head off, who introduced himself as a engineer Vet from S.A. who has moved to W.A. - and it turned out, he drove one of the same dozers in the Land Clearing Team as I did! All the dozers had names!

The military vehicle boys pulled out all the stops, and there was a fine turnout. Never seen so many restored Jeeps in one place, I had no idea there were so many survivors!

The weather was fantastic, cloudy but warm, it was around 18°C at the dawn service and 23°C for the city march.
The small numbers of WW2 Vets left nearly all performed well if they chose to march - although I noticed quite a few in the crowd, who had obviously decided not to march. It won't be long before there'll be no WW2 Vets left.
I got a shock a few years ago when I saw the first of the Vietnam Vets in wheelchairs. Ageing doesn't stop for anyone!

THE FINAL INSPECTION



The Soldier stood and faced his God,

Which must always come to pass.

He hoped his shoes were shining,

Just as brightly as his brass.


"Step forward now, you Soldier,

How shall I deal with you?

Have you always turned the other cheek?

To My Church have you been true?"


The Soldier squared his shoulders and said,

"No, my Lord, I ain't.

Because those of us who carry guns,

Can't always be a saint.


I've had to work most Sundays,

And at times my talk was tough.

And sometimes I've been violent,

Because the world is awfully rough.


But, I never took a dollar,

That wasn't mine to keep...

Though I worked a lot of overtime,

When the bills got just too steep.


And I never passed a cry for help,

Though at times I shook with fear.

And sometimes, God, forgive me,

I've wept unmanly tears.

I know I don't deserve a place,

Among the people here.

They never wanted me around,

Except to calm their fears.


If you've a place for me here, Lord,

It needn't be so grand.

I never expected or had too much,

But if you don't, I'll understand.


There was a silence all around the throne,

Where the saints had often trod.

As the Soldier waited quietly,

For the judgment of his God.


"Step forward now, you Soldier,

You've borne your burdens well.

Walk peacefully on Heaven's streets,

You've done your time in Hell."


~Author Unknown~
It's the Soldier, not the reporter, who has given us the freedom of the press.

It's the Soldier, not the poet, who has given us the freedom of speech.

It's the Soldier, not the politicians, that ensures our right to Life, Freedom and the Pursuit of Happiness.

It's the Soldier who salutes the flag, who serves beneath the flag, and whose coffin is draped by the flag.
THESE COLORS DON'T RUN


Lest we forget.
Bushy.