Michael McCormack (Riverina, National Party, Parliamentary Secretary to the Minister for Finance) Share this | Hansard source

Gallipoli is not just a place but also now very much a condition in the human spirit so profound it empowers Australians to be their best selves—brave and patriotic with a sense of the importance of mateship burning deeply within. Although by military standards the 1915 Anzac campaign was a disaster—and an epic one at that—the symbolism of Gallipoli and what those hearty and heroic diggers achieved truly united Australia and Australians like nothing else could have possibly done at the time. Looking back now, we should be not only proud but also thankful—eternally thankful—for the deeds that established the ethos which is held so dear by all who wear a military uniform of our country today.

Many, if not most, people—certainly generational Australians—have a relative who fought in and possibly never returned from the First World War. The 1914-18 conflict touched so many families, robbing us of a generation of men and forever changing our nation. An ancestor of mine, Maurice Joseph Curran, was one of those who made the ultimate sacrifice. In the words of St John:

Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.

On 14 October 1922 Maurice's mother, Jane, of Coolamon, signed for his memorial plaque—this memorial plaque—the war medal no-one wanted to receive. Marrar-born farmer Maurice enlisted with his younger brother Jack on 27 March 1916. They, like many others across the Riverina and throughout Australia, no doubt felt a deep sense of obligation to join the war effort after what happened at Gallipoli. News from the Dardanelles over those eight fateful months told the grim tale of the hardship endured, service contributed and loss suffered by the Australian and New Zealand Army Corps following those original landings in the predawn darkness on that momentous day forever burnt into the consciences of bereaved yet grateful nations on either side of the Tasman—25 April 1915.

Maurice, of the 36th Battalion, fell during the Battle of Passchendaele in Belgium on 12 October 1917, killed in action with three other digger mates when a shell landed amongst them just as they were about to 'hop over'. He was aged just 30. His lifeless body fell against or past his brother Jack, later awarded a Military Medal for bravery as a stretcher bearer. He buried his poor brother and then had the awful duty of writing to his mother in Coolamon and telling her what had happened.

Another brother, Leslie William Curran, was recruited during Australia's longest recruiting march—350 miles, from Wagga Wagga to Sydney—in 1915-16. This epic walk will be re-enacted a century on thanks to the efforts of an energetic Southern Highlands group led by Graham Brown, Rhondda Vanzella and OJ Rushton, setting off from Wagga Wagga on 5 September en route to Campbelltown. Les Curran was also awarded a Military Medal, for gallantry at Whiz Farm east of Wytschaete—known to the troops as 'Whitesheet'—on the night of 3 March 1918. They were brave diggers those Currans. Fortunately Les made it home, albeit as an invalid, in 1919 but was well enough to serve in World War II and died aged 64 in Mooroopna, Victoria in 1958.

A memorial plaque was issued after the First World War to the next of kin of all British and Empire service personnel killed. The plaques were made of bronze, and were often referred to as the 'Dead Man's Penny' or 'Widow's Penny' because of their resemblance to the significantly smaller penny coin. There were 1,355,000 plaques issued and 450 tonnes of bronze were used in their production. How very sad! A total of 8,709 plaques went to Australians lost as a result of the Gallipoli campaign. The long casualty list included many Riverina boys—from the foothills of the Snowy Mountains in the east to the red soil plains in the west and everywhere in between—who, in the immortal words of Laurence Binyon:

… 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.

On the centenary of Anzac Day, they remembered those hardy heroes at Wagga Wagga and West Wyalong, at Griffith and Gundagai, at Tallimba and Tumut, and Adelong and Ariah Park. The Centenary of Anzac was commemorated enthusiastically throughout the Riverina.

Springdale, a tiny village just outside Temora, sent 34 young men to World War I. Ten never returned. As a percentage of fallen, this sadly ranks Springdale amongst the highest of any community in the Commonwealth. Another such unfortunate community is Tumbarumba. On Anzac night, Springdale paid tribute to those brave forefathers who served. Beautiful silver pin badges were presented to descendants, many of whom still live in the area. Nearly 250 people came from near and far, cramming inside the small memorial hall, to dine on a sumptuous Springdale roast and have Anzac pudding for dessert. The fare corresponded with that provided in the three farewell functions and the three welcome home dinners held in the very same hall between 1915 and 1920. What a truly memorable evening it was! It was country hospitality at its very best. Vietnam veteran retired Colonel Pat Thorne AM did a splendid job with all the arrangements. The entertainment was simply magnificent—Lachlan Reichstein singing It's a long way to Tipperary, Jenny Kotzur reciting a beautiful French poem and Stephanie Elliott doing a wonderful job with Joan of Arc.

More than 15,000—a record turnout—attended Wagga Wagga's Anzac Centenary commemorations along Baylis Street. What a remarkable parade it was! Kapooka commandant Colonel Steve Jobson gave an inspiring address. I intend to table that address at the end of this speech. The RSL Rural Commemorative Youth Choir sang beautifully, and personnel from our city's three defence bases did themselves proud.

I am very fortunate to live in a free and democratic country, as we all are. This is thanks to the Anzacs, those who fought at Gallipoli and those who followed—that long line of khaki who have done our country proud. I am proud to Kapooka represent in this place, the home of the soldier, where, as I say, Colonel Steve Jobson is now the commandant. What a fine speech he gave on Anzac Day. It was one of the finest addresses I have ever heard.

Lessons learned from our involvement in conflict the world over and which first came to light during that ill-fated Dardanelles foray are that the pursuit of peace often comes at a terrible cost. As a nation, we must always stand ready to protect ourselves and those who rely on us. In commemorating the Centenary of Anzac, Australians and those across the Tasman, our everlasting New Zealand friends, share a unique bond which will forever remain unbroken. People from all countries know, admire and respect the enduring qualities of the Anzacs, the core values of courage, initiative, respect and teamwork.

Over the years Australian service men and women have always put the interests of maintaining and at times restoring freedom and the inherent risks associated with going on active duty above their own personal safety. You and I, Deputy Speaker Mitchell, saw that firsthand when last year we took part in the Australian Defence Force Parliamentary Program and went to Afghanistan. We saw that firsthand. We saw how brave those men and women are and will always continue to be.

Long lines of crosses, some marked, others not, in military cemeteries and row upon row of names on the Roll of Honour at the Australian War Memorial here in Canberra and on monuments right across the Riverina are grim reminders that our nation and region have paid a heavy price for upholding our ideals, our gallantry and our willingness to help others. In keeping the peace, our Air Force, Army and Navy personnel, as well as those wonderful nurses and medical staff, have done us proud. This is why we should always honour their memory on Anzac Day and, indeed, every day, for our way of life has been made possible only because of their sacrifices on our behalf.

With a little indulgence, I will read a poem which was published in The Anzacs march again and other verse by Cecil S. Watts in 1944. It brings home just how important Anzac Day in the Riverina is.

We are at a battle-station, where the

restless tropic sea

Thunders on the reefs of coral a threat of

storms to be,

With the jungle close behind us we are

resting by our guns,

And I'm thinking it is Springtime on

the Riverina runs.

They'll be busy now, lamb-marking,

clipping ears and snipping tales

Till the tar-splashed wood is polished

along the holding rails,

And I'm wishing I could saddle up, to

ride the plains and sing

All my praise of Riverina, Riverina in

the Spring.

There's a group of wooden crosses where

the shore and jungle meet,

From village to inland village the

primitive war-drums beat,

And I'm thinking of a Southland

guarded by this aerodrome

… Of the green and gold of

Springtime round my Riverina home.

There'll be blossom on the wattle,

the old pepperina tree

Will be shading Bluey's kennel—

wish that dog was here with me!

And the bush birds in the timber

will make the echoes ring

With their songs of Riverina,

Riverina in the Spring.

We have heard before the message

carried to us by the drums,

And we're ready for the foemen—no

matter how he comes:

We have held his southward sally, and

those of us who died

Are buried 'neath those crosses by the

restless tropic tide.

It is not for martial glory that those

hearts are sleeping there,

They also loved their homeland:

Australia, free and fair!

And I fancy

They are sharing

the joy that

memory

brings,

As I think

of Riverina,

Riverina in

the Spring.

Lest we forget. I seek leave to table Colonel Steve Jobson's speech from the Anzac Day ceremony at Wagga Wagga this year.

Leave granted.

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