Andrew Southcott (Boothby, Liberal Party) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

In the foyer of the Australian War Memorial sits an old lifeboat. It has been part of the collection since it opened. Most visitors would have passed it. At first glance it is unremarkable. Yet it is one of the most iconic and tangible reminders of the Gallipoli campaign. For this steel lifeboat was one of the boats which participated in the landing at Anzac Cove. One hundred years ago, on 25 April, the first Anzacs were climbing down rope ladders from their transports. They made the last stage of the journey in rowing boats like that one. They did so orderly and quietly. It was pitch dark. The commander of one of the destroyers said to the Australians on the deck, 'Lights out, men, and stop talking; we're going in now.' Our official war historian, Charles Bean, described the scene: 'In the silent crowded boats the tension was extreme. Did the Turks suspect? Were they posted on those invisible hills and on the beaches? Would they detect the landing? Would they resist it in force? When would the first shot come?'

The 10th Battalion from South Australia was amongst the first to land. In the pre-dawn light they faced cliffs 200 feet above sea level and ground riddled with gullies. They carried heavy backpacks, with 200 rounds of ammunition, an entrenching tool, water and two days of rations. They ran across the shingle of the beach, took cover and began to climb.

Two South Australians, Private Arthur Blackburn and Private Phillip Robin, went further than anyone else and glimpsed their goal. Arthur Blackburn, a lawyer, later won the Victoria Cross at Pozieres in 1916 and served in the Second World War as Commander of Blackforce in Java, where he was captured and was a prisoner of war for 3½ years. The office of the Department of Veterans' Affairs in Adelaide is named Blackburn House in his honour. He lives on through his daughter, Margie Forbes, who I have known for more than 30 years, and his son-in-law, Dr Jim Forbes, a former federal member for Barker and also a Military Cross winner in the Second World War. Phillip Robin was an accountant who worked for the Bank of Adelaide. He played for Norwood and South Australia and won the 1907 reserves Magarey Medal for football. He was killed three days after the landing.

So who were these men? They joined as volunteers and trained at the Morphettville camp, which was erected on and around the racecourse. They undertook their training along the Glenelg and Brighton foreshores. They went for long marches to the Light Horse remount depot at O'Halloran Hill. They marched to Belair National Park and bivouacked there for two nights. They still behaved like any young men. A smile or wave from the nurses of the Adelaide Hospital who were visiting the camp was enough to distract them from their training.

After parading before the Governor at Parliament House on North Terrace, the proprietor of the Half-Way House on the Bay Road, Mr Tolley, supplied free beer to the parched troops. We know that establishment today as the Highway Inn, and the Bay Road was later renamed Anzac Highway in their honour. In two months they were transformed from civilians to soldiers.

So who were these men? They were teachers, blacksmiths, lawyers and shearers. They were drovers, accountants, railway men and labourers. They walked our streets. They were part of this community. Their names are on memorials and plaques all around Australia.    We will not forget them. We will remember them. They are no longer with us, but they were us.

Anzac Day, including the Centenary of Anzac, has been embraced more and more by Australians over the last few years. It is, of course, very heartening that so many Australians wish to honour those who served during the First World War and in all too many instances never returned home. Along the way, these soldiers have in some ways been turned into figures from a story. We often hear it said that Gallipoli was the birth of our nation. Yes, these men are symbols. But we should also remember that they were more than that—they were just like you and me.

In my electorate of Boothby, my local community has been embracing Anzac Day services more and more over the last few years, with attendance numbers continuing to grow. For my part, I was very honoured to give the address at this year's dawn service at the Brighton Arch of Remembrance, where thousands of people turned out in the pre-dawn hours. The services I attended this year were cold, windy and, in the case of the Blackwood youth vigil, in the middle of a torrential downpour, but all of my electorate's local communities made a special effort this year.

I would like to congratulate the RSLs, the local councils and the many residents of my electorate for their efforts to commemorate this historic milestone. Leading the effort have been the local RSL sub-branches. Every year they work for months to make sure that the events of the First World War are properly commemorated and remembered. I would like to pay tribute to their efforts, not just in organising the commemorations but in all the work they do on behalf of our veterans.

Another way that my local community embraced the centenary was the huge response that we saw to the government's Anzac Centenary Local Grants Program. It was particularly gratifying to see how many local schools were eager to participate in the program and incorporate the centenary into their activities over the year. While the RSLs and established commemorative groups were of course among the many recipients, of the 15 successful grant applicants, almost two-thirds were from local schools. This program really provided the community with the opportunity to create new and rejuvenated memorials to commemorate the service and sacrifice of Australian service men and women but also to commemorate the event in novel ways.

Successful applicants to the program included the Repat Foundation, the Brighton RSL, the Marion Historic Village Display Centre, the Blackwood RSL, the Rotary Club of Flagstaff Hill, the Colonel Light Gardens RSL, Aberfoyle Park High School, Brighton Secondary School, Westminster School, Blackwood High School, Aberfoyle Park Primary School, Scotch College, Flagstaff Hill R-7 School, Seacliff Primary School and Colonel Light Gardens Primary School.

The schools in particular have been very engaged and have come up with ideas that really involve the students and the school community. Some are constructing new memorials; others are staging plays or musical productions; others are collecting and displaying First World War memorabilia and using them as part of their curriculum. There are a couple I would like to briefly mention. One of the grants funded the dedication a brand-new war memorial at the Aberfoyle Park School's site, which I had the honour of attending. This memorial is particularly significant for this area of my electorate, as before then there was no existing memorial in the area commemorating the locals who served during the First World War. I would also like to thank the Minister for Veterans' Affairs and Minister Assisting the Prime Minister for the Centenary of Anzac for making the time to attend that dedication. It was an important day for the students of Aberfoyle Park Primary School, and his presence showed them how much we appreciated their efforts to see this new memorial built.

A second project that had the selection committee quite excited was one which is currently underway by the students of Colonel Light Gardens Primary School. The Colonel Light Gardens Primary School is on the site of what was the Mitcham Army Camp, which was an important staging post for World War I soldiers before they embarked for overseas. The school is producing a 15-minute film about the First World War and the meaning of Anzac Day in a local context, as told and shown by the students. The younger students will undertake activities such as making and learning about the significance of poppies; re-enactments of army training; writing historical fiction or poetry; and artwork and models. Older students will research Gallipoli and other battles, and what it was like being a child, soldier, mother, doctor or nurse from the era, telling this from their subject's perspective and connecting it to local families where they can. These activities will be incorporated into the curriculum, and the end product will be a film featuring, researched and narrated by children, for children. Once finished, they plan to make it available to other primary schools as ongoing teaching resource.

These commemoration activities, as well as all of those taking place around our community, show that the memory of those who served—and those who continue to serve—will not be forgotten. The memory of our Anzacs continues strong, and I am confident that Australians will continue to remember their legacy—to the 150th anniversary, the 200th anniversary, and beyond. Lest we forget.

Warren Entsch (Leichhardt, Liberal Party) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

The Great War was the crucible that forged our nation. That is why the Centenary of Anzac is such a significant period of commemoration for all Australians. On 25 April, marking the official 100th anniversary of the Gallipoli campaign, residents of Leichhardt commemorated this significant time with a range of events and projects. Today I would like to take the time to acknowledge a whole range of people who have made an invaluable contribution in so many ways.

A key component of our Anzac Centenary commemorations has been the ability to support individual projects to the tune of $125,000 in total per electorate. In Leichhardt, we had a very capable local grants committee made up of Richard Stoker, a historian and archivist with the Douglas Shire Historical Society—and, interestingly enough, a direct descendant of the captain of one of our first submarines in the First World War, submarine HMAS AE2, which actually sank during that Gallipoli campaign; Jodie Duignan-George, then general manager of James Cook University; Jim Fay, the secretary and treasurer of the Cooktown RSL Sub Branch; Mr Phil Warwick, a committee member of the Cairns RSL Sub Branch; and Steven Brain, a councillor at Cairns Regional Council. The committee members took significant time out of their very busy schedules to read through the applications, to assess them against the criteria, to provide feedback at the committee meetings, and to make recommendations to the Department of Veterans' Affairs. I would like to thank them very much for their efforts.

In terms of successful projects in Leichhardt, it was great to see a mix of traditional ideas and innovative concepts. I would particularly like to recognise the following people: Maureen Cameron, Head of Music at St Andrews Catholic College in Cairns—and Maureen was also the organiser of Catholic Education Services' Anzac Reflections production, a performance of music and verse which coincided with the installation of 13,000 perspex stakes on the lawns of the Bishop's House in Cairns, each stake with a personally written name and a reflection about World War I; Jim Fay and other committee members of the Cooktown RSL Sub Branch, who replaced the existing First World War memorial archway at Cooktown's Anzac Park, which was dangerously run-down; and Alisa McKinley and members of the Mother of Good Counsel School Parents and Friends Association, for establishing an Anzac Living Memorial Garden in the school grounds on Sheridan St. The garden will feature panels and artwork designed by the students and a memorial bench for quiet reflection.

I would also like to thank Pauline O'Keefe, a driving force at the Cairns Historical Society, who organised an exhibition titled Far North Queensland Remembers World War One in April 2014. I attended the opening night, and it was an excellent event which gave a real insight into life in Cairns during World War I, with restored photographs, memorabilia and performance art. Wally Grey and Ron Savage, secretary and president of the Mossman RSL Sub Branch, and other volunteers erected a beautiful memorial in the grounds of the Mossman RSL. Melanie Piddocke and Jacqui Collins-Herrmann from James Cook Museum in Cooktown organised a permanent exhibition recognising the activities and involvement of Cooktown residents in World War I—and I had the opportunity to visit the museum in April, and it was great to see some of the memorabilia that has been restored and researched and that will form part of that permanent exhibition. Naomi Warriner, the head of humanities at Trinity Anglican School, organised to borrow two World War I Memorial Box resources from the Australian War Memorial. This is the first time that Far North Queensland will have access to these resources, which will be hosted at the new Australian Armour & Artillery Museum in Smithfield—and I would like to take this opportunity to thank the founder, Rob Lowden, for taking on this role. These local projects will have a lasting impact and will be a reminder of this very important period for many, many years to come.

There are a number of other projects and accomplishments that I would like to acknowledge today. Bill Winfield, a long-time friend, is now involved with the Masonic Lodge in Gordonvale. The lodge had wanted to do something a little bit different, and so very generously organised for a performance of the play Private Ginger Mick at Gallipoli to come to Cairns—I am sure you would recall that, Mr Acting Deputy Speaker Jones, as he had organised that play to come from Townsville to Cairns. In conjunction with the play, Bill organised an essay competition for local school students, and I attended the presentation at the Cairns RSL sub-branch. Congratulations to Matisse Reed from St Monica's College, who won the competition, and to runners-up Soraya Houghton, Kiara Guest and Elizabeth Honnef, all from Gordonvale State High School.

The major art installation Blood Swept Lands and Seas of Red at the Tower of London marked 100 years since the first full day of Britain's involvement in the First World War. Leslene Woodward is a former Cairns resident now living in London. She purchased one of the fundraising poppies and generously donated it to the Cairns RSL, so the Cairns community have their own piece of this internationally recognised event. Unfortunately, even though it was packaged very carefully, one of the petals broke in transit. Luckily, we have a fabulous local artist—Jennie Scott of the Cairns Art Society—who was able to carry out a wonderful repair job. I handed this beautiful poppy over to David Clifton, President of the Cairns RSL, and it will form part of a new display at that RSL.

I was certainly honoured to take part in the inaugural Anzac memorial walk retracing the enlistment drive of young men who walked from the Lions Den Hotel in Rossville to Cooktown. Congratulations again to Jim Fay, Secretary and Treasurer of the Cooktown RSL sub-branch, the other organisers, my teammates from the Cooktown RSL team, and the management and staff of the Lions Den Hotel, who hosted us on Friday night and cooked up a 'breakfast of champions' on Saturday morning. Two of my wonderful staff—Heather Beck and Karen—were also on that walk; they came with me and it was great to have both of them on board. They walked the whole distance, which was about 20-something kilometres. I have to concede I did not quite make that distance; I had problems with my shoes. Nevertheless, I was there at the start and well and truly there at the finish. It was very poignant to have a photograph pinned to my shirt in memory of a serviceman from the Cooktown area. I certainly hope to see that event repeated in the future. It was very successful and very well supported.

On Anzac Day, I again marched behind the RAAF banner in Cairns and attended the Anzac Day service at Fogarty Park. This year, I helped the regional council bring a Turkish armed forces representative, Colonel Ozkan Ulutas, to Cairns for the event. He was one of only three Turkish armed forces personnel who came to Australia, and he recited Ataturk's commitment that is inscribed on the Anzac Cove memorial, which was amazing. It was phenomenal to have him standing there at the podium, reciting Ataturk's declaration; it certainly added to the event.

I would also like to acknowledge the members of the Cairns Sikh community, who walked around handing out bottles of cold water—a great relief in the hot sun. They distributed pamphlets outlining a lot of the work that was done by the Sikhs then. Of course, they were very much part of supporting us during that time of need.

I went to the Torres Strait, and I was honoured to present one of our last surviving members of the Torres Strait Light Infantry—Mr Mebai Warusam—with his service medals. It was just great. He is 91 years old. He was part of the Torres Strait Light Infantry. It was important that we were able to offer support to him.

In no way should the Centenary of Anzac glorify war, but it should recognise what is best in the human spirit and what is noblest in our human character and acknowledge that the worst of times can bring out the best in us. From now until 2018, I urge everyone to find out about the events, marches and services that are taking place in our communities and seize this opportunity, as it will be unique in our country's history.

Teresa Gambaro (Brisbane, Liberal Party) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

A hundred years ago the world witnessed our young nation's bloody baptism at Anzac Cove, Gallipoli. The Anzac spirit was born in the tragedy of war. Ever since that day, the heroic displays of selfless courage by the Australian and New Zealand soldiers in that desolate place have been a source of pride for both nations and have rightly passed into our nation's folklore as legend.

Today, the Anzac spirit is part of our inheritance as Australians. It is a fundamental part of our national identity and defines how we see ourselves. Every year at Anzac Day, we, the inheritors of the Anzac spirit, have the opportunity to renew and refresh our connection with our country's history and pay homage and respect to those heroes of our country's history.

Australia's very first requiem for Gallipoli's fallen was held at St John's Cathedral in the heart of Brisbane. Close to 600 people attended the service arranged by David Garland on 10 June 1915. From that day 100 years ago, Anzac Day services have grown across Brisbane and Australia, becoming one of the most important and iconic commemorative dates on our calendar.

In the period of time leading into the Centenary of Anzac, the Anzac Centenary Local Grants Program was announced in early 2013, and this program has provided the community in the electorate of Brisbane with a unique way to commemorate the Centenary of Anzac. I was joined by an exceptional group of notable community leaders in establishing a committee to provide feedback on how the community could best commemorate the centenary. The committee provided genuine feedback and views on how each project would benefit the local community with valuable input from their respective fields.

I would like to take this opportunity to thank each member of the committee: Mr Tony Ralph, president of Legacy Queensland; Mr Terry Meehan, president of RSL Queensland; Mr Kevin Drinkwater, state president of the Naval Association of Australia; Mr Andrew Kilgour AM, president of RSL's South Eastern District; Mr Bill O'Chee, president of the Clayfield-Toombul RSL Sub-branch; Ms Gynith Whatmough from the War Widows' Guild in Queensland; Mr Don Currell, immediate past president of the Queensland branch of the Submariners Association of Australia; Ms Cluny Seager, committee president of the Royal Brisbane Hospitals' Nurses Association; Mr Barry Collins, state treasurer of the Queensland branch of the Naval Association of Australia; Mr Jose de Silva, state vice-president of the Queensland branch of the Naval Association of Australia; and Ms Denise Schellbach, a constituent of the Brisbane electorate.

I was absolutely delighted with the number of applications that were received from community groups and organisations from across the electorate. I was really pleased to be able to update the House on each application that was recommended to the Minister for Veterans' Affairs, Senator the Hon. Michael Ronaldson, and subsequently when they received final approval. The Queensland Jewish Board of Deputies submitted an application with a purpose to support the contribution toward the Centenary of Anzac's Jewish program, including a commemorative service, photographic exhibition and the production of educational materials. The application had strong support from the Jewish community and the exhibition centred on the involvement of Australian Jewish service men and women in WWI. Both the service at the synagogue and the travelling exhibition have enabled the local community to commemorate the Centenary of Anzac, while gaining that really valuable insight into the experience of war from a unique cultural perspective.

The work of Mates4Mates and what they do for current and ex-service men and women is nothing short of exceptional. In their application for funding, Mates4Mates established the Queenslander Challenge. That was a trek that started at Woodford and ended at the Mates4Mates' Family Recovery Centre in the heart of Albion. Mates4Mates came up with this unique idea: they commissioned 6,967 commemorative bricks to represent each of the Queenslanders who made the ultimate sacrifice in WWI. Each brick will be carried during the trek and will be used to build a commemorative monument to remember those fallen soldiers. They are going to have many treks; in the inaugural trek in August 2014, each participant was challenged and motived during the journey, while building trust and teamwork, to bring the mateship from those on the ground at Gallipoli to the present day. Each of those who participated carried a brick, which was very, very touching.

St Andrew's Uniting Church, which is based in the Brisbane CBD in the heart of my electorate, was also a grant recipient. St Andrew's has very strong ties to the community and an ongoing Anzac connection, which dates back to 1914. It is home to a number of historical items that are directly linked to WWI. The church holds a display of communion silver that was used by Chaplain Colonel Merrington at Gallipoli. He was there serving and providing holy communion. Those items serve as an ever present reminder to those who visit the church and see those beautiful goblets and displays of silver. As part of the Anzac Centenary Local Grants Program, major refurbishment and upgrades will be undertaken to preserve the historical items in St Andrew's Uniting Church. This very valuable part of our Anzac history and it is important that it be preserved.

New Farm State School submitted an application to refurbish the existing WWI memorial, which is a centre point for community commemorations each Anzac Day. I want to congratulate them. The original was constructed in 1922. The memorial honours the 25 former students who fell serving their country in WWI. The memorial at the school is a visible reminder for the students, families and local community of the sacrifices ordinary people from New Farm made to protect our freedom. New Farm State School has a proud history and very well-attended Anzac Day services. I have been very pleased to join in many of them to commemorate this event. Hundreds of students, parents, veterans and local community members attend each year.

The parish of St Mark's in Clayfield also has a long and notable history supporting wounded and returned soldiers. The focal point of St Mark's is a war memorial, which is a stained and leadlight glass window. Work on the memorial window commenced in 1917 and was completed in 1918. The window serves as a memorial to those soldiers from Albion, Clayfield and Wooloowin who made the ultimate sacrifice in WWI. In their application, St Mark's highlighted the need for external safety glass to ensure the window—which depicts Army, Navy, RAAF and Red Cross crests—is safe from potential damage. The parish of St Mark's also holds a roll of honour, listing 111 names of members from the local community who did not return home from WWI. St Mark's has long been involved in the public commemorations for Anzac Day. On approval, the parish are now able to highlight a significant part of the history and the impact of war to those in the local community.

In 1915, the Dungaree's recruitment march travelled from Warwick to Brisbane. They travelled 270 kilometres, signing 125 recruits along the way. To commemorate the epic journey, the Military Brotherhood's military motorcycle club has planned a trip to retrace the route, concluding in Albert Square—which is now known as King George Square. It is going to be held in November 2015 and a commemorative cast bronze plaque will be placed in Brisbane to recognise the centenary of the Dungaree's march and to coincide with the Centenary of Anzac. As part of the Military Brotherhood's military motorcycle club, serving and ex-serving members of the Australian Defence Forces and Commonwealth forces provide each other with camaraderie, mateship and support.

During WWI, 86 nurses, 30 doctors and many orderlies from the Royal Brisbane Hospital dedicated their services and faced great adversity while serving overseas. I was pleased to be at the hospital when photos, stories and a display dedicated to those men and women who served were unveiled. In the heart of Herston, an exhibition has been developed by the committee of the Royal Brisbane Hospitals Nurses Association to display a significant collection of memorabilia from 1914 to 1918. The exhibition was very well attended and was opened by the Governor-General. Windsor State School also marked the Centenary of Anzac with plaques naming 14 students from the school who died in the First World War.

There are many more of these commemorative celebrations that I can talk about. I am honoured to be able to have been to many of these events and to continue to build a sense of awareness and participation in Anzac Day across my local community. My our memory of them never fade. Lest we forget.

Christopher Pyne (Sturt, Liberal Party, Leader of the House) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

It is a great privilege to be able to speak on this motion. On 25 April 2015, all across my electorate of Sturt, people gathered at dawn services and other commemorative events to pay their respects. They came together to mark the centenary of an event that was key in the development of Australia as a nation. One hundred years ago, on the rocky shore of Gallipoli, this young nation stood side by side with its allies. We stood up and were counted with our old friends New Zealand and the United Kingdom. Of course, we must not forget that the campaign at Gallipoli was a tragedy and a failure. We were unable to dislodge the Turkish defenders and so were eventually forced to withdraw. Nearly 9,000 Australians were killed along with 3,000 New Zealanders and 35,000 British.

To many it seems odd that Australia chooses to mark a great defeat in such a way—parades, services and ceremonies for something many countries would rather not acknowledge—but, defeat or not, Anzac Day provides us with the opportunity to remember the sacrifice made by so many during that campaign 100 years ago and the sacrifice of the families, lovers, partners and parents waiting at home. Most importantly, we remember that the Gallipoli campaign was the first time that Australia, a young nation, came together as a nation and stood up with our allies. We had only been founded at Federation 15 years before and were going into battle alongside one of the world's oldest democracies. We were establishing a reputation that our soldiers have fought hard to keep up from that day to now—a reputation for excellence on the battlefield, having an irreverent attitude to authority, fighting for our mates rather than for elusive ideals and being a small army that punches above its weight. This is the same reputation that our forces have aspired to from that day in 1915 through to the terrible scenes of the Western Front, through the Second World War, Korea, Borneo, Vietnam, Iraq and Afghanistan, along with countless smaller commitments in between. And so Anzac Day has now become a wider occasion of remembrance. We pause to acknowledge all the sons and daughters of Anzac who have followed in the stead of those original warriors in 1915 and those that have done so much and tried so hard to maintain the Anzac legacy.

I was proud to take my place at the Kensington Park RSL ceremony on this year's Anzac Day. Kensington Park is in the centre of my electorate and the RSL is a hub for ex-service men and women of all generations, as well as the wider community. I, like many Australians, have a close family link to Gallipoli and was proud to be able to acknowledge those links on Anzac Day. My great-uncle Patrick was killed with the 10th Australian Infantry Battalion on the day of the landings itself. He was 19. Patrick's older brother, Octavius, who went into battle alongside him, survived the Gallipoli campaign but ultimately lost his life later in France in March 1917, aged 26. And, finally, my father, Remington, served in the British Commonwealth Occupation Force in Japan after World War II and then with the 3rd Battalion of the Royal Australian Regiment as a medical officer in Korea.

I was heartened to see how many Sturt locals came out to attend the service and to hear of the strong crowds at other services in Sturt. Every year the numbers seem to keep on increasing as a new generation of Australians take the time to pay their respects. I am particularly pleased that a number of organisations in my electorate were able to benefit from the government's Anzac Centenary Local Grants Program to ensure we were able to properly mark this event.

I congratulate all the organisations, made up almost exclusively of volunteers, who have worked so hard to plan, apply for and now put these grants to work for the good of the community. Some examples include: Knightsbridge Baptist Church, which will erect a plaque to commemorate the soldiers of the First World War; Maltese RSL subbranch, which will also install a plaque as well as publish a book Malta and the ANZACs: the Nurses of the Mediterranean, highlighting the valuable contribution made here; Kensington Park RSL subbranch, which will refurbish and replace their memorial grove ensuring this special place appropriately commemorates the sacrifices made so many years before; St Martin's Anglican Church, which has an ambitious plan for the construction of a memorial pathway and garden to recognise those in the local community who served in the First World War; Campbelltown City Council, which will upgrade the First World War Memorial at the intersection of Lower North East Road and Gorge Road, making sure that it stands proud for generations to come; St Morris RSL subbranch, which will erect a new Anzac memorial; the St George's Church historical group, which issued a special commemorative booklet and conducted the special service on the Sunday after Anzac Day that I was privileged enough to attend; and, finally, Payneham RSL subbranch, which will attach a sword to the cross of sacrifice within their garden of remembrance. These grants, along with the countless services and ceremonies conducted by RSLs, churches, schools and community groups, stand testament to the commitment of the people of my electorate of Sturt to properly recognise the sacrifices made by generations past.

While we rightly remember those who lost their lives and fought at Gallipoli, it is the case that our human links to the men and women of that time are slowly fading. No Australian veterans of the conflict remain alive. Our duty now is to those veterans of later wars, who are still alive. Some are bearing the physical injuries and scars of their service. Some are bearing the more insidious, because they are invisible, mental scars. Unable to forget, unable to let go, they deserve and need our help. To those who have served and are struggling I say: 'Please, ask for help. It is available and there for you, and there is no shame in seeking it.' To all of us I say this: 'They fought on our behalf, and now we must do what we can to help.'

I have long been proud to represent the electorate of Sturt but never more than on this occasion. Watching a community come together to pay their respects to those brave Australians of 100 years ago was a fantastic thing. To speak on their behalf on this motion today is, indeed, a great privilege, and I commend this motion to the House.

Barnaby Joyce (New England, National Party, Minister for Agriculture) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

I believe it is best to give this speech in three parts: firstly, Anzac's meaning to me; secondly, how it is perceived and reflected in the people whom I have the honour to represent; and thirdly, my thoughts on the effect of Anzac Day on our nation. With this perception being merely through my eyes, I hope it is not seen as indulgent, but s there are so many views on Anzac Day, we do not need to be told how to see it, but rather to compile all our views so as to say how we see it.

I am happy with the investment our government has made to support this righteous memory. At the very least, to me it is the very minor act of getting out of bed for the dawn service in memory of those who got out of a boat at Anzac Cove to be shot at, then later to be shot at on the Western Front or to be shot at in Palestine or to be shot at later in the wars in North Africa, Europe, the Pacific, Vietnam, Korea and now in the Middle East—or to be shot at in the skies or to be shot at at sea. All I have to do is get out of bed for people who were and are offering their life.

My father's father was an Anzac, arriving on the first day and leaving on the last. He was awarded a Military OBE and a Distinguished Conduct Medal. He went from Gallipoli, where the memories he had would have been horrific, but the ones he conveyed home were of swimming in the sea, growing vegetable gardens near his guns and of good humour amongst his fellow soldiers. After Gallipoli for him it was off to the Western Front and then, later in a further war, off to the Pacific, where at one stage he was the Commander of the Royal Artillery. He was a person who had progressed from the bottom of the army to be the boss—through all the ranks.

My mother's father enlisted in the air force as a radio operator on the ground of the Western Front at the age of 16. I have a photo of him, and he looks 16. When he became dangerously ill with double pneumonia he was left for dead, but he was nursed back to life by a Catholic nun and then sent home. My father's mother had, I think, seven brothers who were all killed in the service of England. My mother's mother had brothers who served in Palestine. My father served but was repatriated after an accident before even getting on the boat to embark for the Italian peninsula towards the end of the Second World War in an accident which smashed his leg and changed his life. In respect for these people, I did my brief time in the Army Reserve.

I will not pretend that I know why they served. Was it patriotism, adventure, escape or maybe as unremarkable as a job? What is important is what these people became when they went from their shores to serve elsewhere—the mateship, bravery, resilience, injury, trauma and, tragically for some of the families involved, death.

In my grandfather's citation it is noted that during operations in April 1918, when a Warrant Officer Second Class in action at Messines, he carried out his duties under very difficult circumstances in a most capable and gallant manner. Owing to casualties among the officers, he was several times in charge of the wagon lines and always maintained the ammunition supply, often under heavy shell-fire. In operations at Bapaume during August and September on several occasions when the wagon lines were shelled, his courage and coolness largely helped to avoid serious loss. When the same person was employed as a farm labourer at Hampden in New Zealand prior to the First World War, I wonder if he anticipated this life ahead. I wonder if he would have had the capacity then to undertake action to the extremities of personal courage required. Or did this developed over time and under the pressure of war? I know he was never the same person after the war as he was before, and the horror of war had a permanent psychological effect, manifesting at certain times in screaming dreams and terrified careering around the house and to hide outside on the road. People knew it as 'the jumps'; it was the fear of getting buried alive by shell fire that stayed with him, amongst other terrors.

In New England local men joined the local battalion, the 33rd. A Company was drawn from Armidale and Tamworth; B Company from Walcha, Uralla, Barraba, Bingara and Manilla; C Company from Narrabri, Moree and Inverell; and D Company from Glen Innes, Guyra and Tenterfield. Two members of the battalion received the Victoria Cross, John Carroll and George Cartwright. The battalion received a total of 14 battle honours, which were bestowed upon it in 1927.

As an anecdote of the exceptional, we should consider the actions of John Carroll, VC. Between 7 and 12 June 1917 at St. Yves, Belgium, during the Battle of Messines, Private Carroll rushed the enemy's trench and bayoneted four of its occupants. He then noticed a comrade in difficulty and went to his assistance, killing another of the enemy. Next, he single-handedly attacked a machine gun team, killing three of them and capturing the gun. Later, two of his comrades were buried by a shell; in spite of heavy shelling and machine-gun fire, he managed to rescue them. It has been claimed that Carroll failed on three occasions to appear at Buckingham Palace for his Victoria Cross award ceremony and, when he did turn up on the fourth occasion, he took advantage of one of his entitlements as a VC recipient to call out the Palace Guard. Carroll was severely wounded at Passchendaele in October 1917. John Carroll died 4 October 1971, aged 80, in Perth, Western Australia. Carroll obviously did not act for personal adulation; he acted because of necessity, personality and mateship.

Another example of this to show that it was not unique was George Cartwright. On 9 December 1915—his 21st birthday—Cartwright enlisted in the Australian Imperial Force for service during the First World War. Allotted to the newly raised 33rd Battalion, Cartwright served with the 33rd through the Battle of Messines, where he was wounded in June 1917. Later, in April 1918, he was wounded again when the 33rd Battalion's position was attacked with gas while holding a position around Villers-Bretonneux. He was briefly hospitalised but returned to duty in June. In August, the Allies launched the Hundred Days Offensive around Amiens, which resulted in a series of advances as the Allies sought to break through the Hindenburg Line. On 31 August 1918, at Road Wood, south-west of Bouchavesnes, near Peronne, France, when two companies were held up by machine gun fire, Cartwright attacked the gun alone under intense fire. He shot three of the crew, and, having bombed the post, captured the gun and nine enemy soldiers. For his actions he was recommended for the Victoria Cross. On 30 September 1918 he was wounded and evacuated to England. Cartwright was conferred with his VC by George V, and, at the end of the war, Cartwright was repatriated to Australia, arriving in March 1919. George Cartwright died on 2 February 1978, aged 83, at Gordon, New South Wales. I wonder if those around him in Gordon understood who this old man in his eighties was, and what he was.

For its service, the 33rd Battalion received the following battle honours: Messines 1917, Ypres 1917, Polygon Wood, Broodseinde, Poelcappelle, Passchendaele, Somme 1918, Ancre 1918, Amiens, Albert 1918, Mont St Quentin, Hindenburg Line and St Quentin Canal 1916-18. Both my grandparents and the New England 33rd Battalion served at Messines—in a couple of miles of line on the other side of the world a formative experience that would flow down from that point forward along the generations.

In the smallest village and in the cities, pride and sadness was etched into war memorials. Where we place flowers, mothers shed tears. Where we wait for the Last Post, wives waited and waited and waited. Where we stand, children longed for lost fathers. To quiet houses the trauma came home. To careers the dent of terrifying experience changed all prospect of a normal life. Yet before they left to go overseas to serve they had swum in the same rivers we swam in, climbed the same hills and covered themselves against the frost of New England winters. They were not bred for some divine purpose peculiar to us; they were one of us. You do not need to be related to someone who has served to be connected.

Now on Anzac Day, on a quiet morning, a memorial brings together people at every stage in life in every position in society, in every form of good luck or bad. In the dark they are all as one, the darkness hiding the good shoes from the bad, the young from the old and allowing the purpose to focus, remember, pray, mourn and thank. We have and are proud to have an egalitarian ethos. So many reasons are given for it but Anzac Day epitomises it and might suggest a reason for it. The only thing they ask of us, those who paid the supreme sacrifice away at other wars and all who have sacrificed in the defence of our nation in so many other ways, is to remember. If we forget then the sacrifice was for what purpose? Lest we forget.

Warren Truss (Wide Bay, National Party, Leader of the Nationals) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

April 25 1915, 100 years ago this year, is obviously a day of singular significance in our national story. For nigh on 100 years this day has been remembered by Australians as one that is sacred to the memory of those who fought in war and one on which we remember the privilege we have as a nation that has lived in peace. Anzac Day was not the day when we were discovered or when we became a nation or we won our independence, but it was in a real sense the day when we proved to the world that we were worthy of nationhood—that Australians could be counted upon to do our share. The image of the tough Aussie battler was certainly entrenched on the day. There is no other day that provides such a deeply held communal, national, heart-felt, long-standing view of who and what we are, and what we have to live up to.

I was recently at the War Memorial alongside the name of my great uncle who died in World War I. A Swiss television crew came up to me and asked 'Why do Australians commemorate Anzac Day?' People around the world think it is rather strange that we should recognise a day that ended in military disaster—a campaign that was more noted for its successful exit than for the battle itself. For us this has been an important national day. I replied to the crew that this was important to Australians because it said a lot about our nationhood—it said a lot about what we believed of ourselves and our willingness to accept responsibility to be citizens of the world and to ensure that our nation could continue to live in peace into the future.

For a while we thought Anzac Day might just drift away, as one by one the veterans passed through the effluxion of time. I think it is exciting, and it is important, that Australians are turning up to Anzac Day commemorations in bigger numbers than ever before. It is impressive that school children and young people and citizens who never went to war are now engaged in Anzac Day commemorations in every town and village in the nation. That ensures that those who fought and died in war will never be forgotten, will always be remembered, and hopefully each of those days will be an opportunity for Australians to dedicate themselves again to their citizenship, their obligations to their country and the recognition of those who paid the supreme sacrifice, or came back maimed and injured as they sought to defend the things we hold dear as a nation.

The Anzacs were tough and intensely Australian. Young men were travelling overseas from a young country, keen to establish their own and their national credentials—credentials boosted by the thousands that joined up immediately Britain declared war on Germany in August 1914 such that we had a convoy of 30,000-plus Australians and New Zealanders, as then dominions, members of the Empire, on the water heading for England and subsequently diverted to Egypt by the beginning of November.

Anzac critics believe we were naive or perhaps over eager—even servile—to be so quick to volunteer but we were then, unflinchingly, part of the British Empire. Upwards of a quarter of our pioneering Anzacs were in fact born in Britain. Several per cent more were born in other corners of the Empire. But they knew they were going to this battle as Australians, and they knew that how they behaved under fire was going to establish Australia's reputation. We know very well how they handled themselves. They set a fantastic standard not just at the landing but throughout the eight months of the campaign. There was a marvellous indomitability to the way they clung to the beachhead that they had established for so long at such great cost as they created a legend that has stayed so fresh. Selfless mutual reliance, despite the fact that it could be and so very often was fatal, shorthanded as 'mateship', is perhaps the most important, most deeply embedded Anzac example that became, because of Gallipoli, the standard for what being Australian means. We look out for and after each other, whatever the price—and if there is a job to do, however tough it is, Australians can be counted upon.

My Anzac Day is usually spent attending as many commemorations in my electorate as I can, travelling from town to town—beginning at 4.28 or a little later with dawn services and then trying to visit four, five or six commemorations during the day. But this year I had the honour of representing the government at the national commemoration in Canberra. More than 100,000 people attended the pre-dawn commemoration, the biggest ever. It was certainly a moving event in the dawn light. It was an occasion on which Canberra—and, for that matter, cities and towns right across the country—provided a fitting tribute to our ANZAC forebears and a reminder that as a nation we will never forget.

Later, I witnessed the parade, attended the commemoration service and then, in the evening, attended the dusk service at the War Memorial. I commend the War Memorial for the way in which they have embraced this Anzac Centenary, with the projection of the names of all those who lost their lives in World War I onto the memorial each night. These new dusk services at the memorial are attended by significant numbers of people, as we pay tribute each day now to those who were lost in battle. So, to be in Canberra on Anzac Day was indeed very special.

My Anzac week had commenced little earlier, when I farewelled the ANZAC troop train re-enactment in Winton, on its way to Brisbane. The old steam train, loaded up with people who were dressed in period costume, took several days to make the journey, but in each and every town the communities came out to cheer, wave and relive the atmosphere of the trains full of troops going off to war in a bygone area.

On the morning before Anzac Day, in my home town of Maryborough, it was a special privilege to be present at dawn for the unveiling of a statue of Lieutenant Duncan Chapman. Duncan Chapman was the first Australian ashore at Anzac Cove. He was born in Maryborough, went to school in Maryborough, worked in a solicitor's office in Maryborough and joined the army in Maryborough. The statue of him in the park, near where he lived and worked, is a fitting tribute to this great Australian—a symbol of all of those who went ashore that morning.

Chapman was promoted to captain at Gallipoli and to major after the withdrawal, when the veterans of Gallipoli were divided up among the thousands of fresh troops then arriving in Egypt to form new Australian divisions in preparation for the Western Front. He was allocated to the 45th Battalion, which was part of the 4th Division, and was a major in D Company when the division went into the front line at Pozieres for our first major engagement in France, in August 1916. He arrived at the front line on 5 August and was killed the very next day. He survived the whole of the Gallipoli campaign but died on his first day of engagement in France.

Duncan Chapman is one of the prides of Maryborough and the district. I am delighted that he has been recognised in a statue that people visit every day and that, as a result of that memorial, they are better able to understand what Anzac Day means to us all.

At Gallipoli, there were 20,000 Australians wounded and almost 9,000 killed, but this motion before us asks us to remember also the brave soldiers of New Zealand, Great Britain, France, India and Newfoundland who fought alongside us in that battle. It is appropriate that we do so because many Australians, though well aware of our own involvement, do not necessarily appreciate that this was a battle involving not just the ANZACs and the Turks. In this motion we also acknowledge our then foes, the Turks. The relationship that has developed between Australia and Turkey, in which we recognise in each other's bravery, is, I think, a great tribute to both countries.

The qualities displayed by our people at Gallipoli from 25 April 1915, a century ago this year, gave us a legend worthy of its central role in the way we see ourselves as a nation. Lest we forget.

Russell Broadbent (McMillan, Liberal Party) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

I am proud to associate myself with and be part of this motion on the 100th anniversary of the landings at Gallipoli.

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.

Far from 'the years condemn', the opposite is true for those who fought in World War I. Anzac Day is not a commemoration hanging on by its fingertips. In fact, the further away we are from the actual event the day commemorates, the brighter the eternal flame burns. In my electorate of McMillan, people from all walks of life, me among them, honour the memory of the fallen in dawn ceremonies that, as we all know, feature brass bands and choirs, stirring speeches and sleepy children laying wreaths at cenotaphs. But our enthusiasm for the day may not always have been as strong.

Back in 1919, the Australian Labor Party convention wanted to eliminate from all school texts any reference to any commentary extolling wars, battles or heroes of past wars. In 2008, the Australian War Memorial's then principal historian, Dr Peter Stanley, wrote:

… Anzac Day from the early 1920s, remained neglected as an historical event. For 50 years after Bean—

Charles Bean—

published his definitive official history very few seemed interested in the Great War.

For a time, in the aftermath of defeat in Vietnam, it seemed that Anzac Day might vanish into obscurity, like Empire Day.

But an assertive Australian national identity has returned to affirm the connection between Gallipoli and nationhood.

In that same insightful article, Dr Stanley asserted:

Nations create the history they need.

That begs the question: why do we need to affirm the connection between what those soldiers did and who we are today? Why do we need that history? The bravery of those who suffered in the face of mud, blood and bullets can never be questioned. The horrific nature of what occurred at Gallipoli, on the Western Front and in many other battles throughout World War I twists the mind. The more you read about it, the more dramatic, sad and tragic it becomes.

The aftermath of that terrible time left a stain on Australia that wormed its way down the generations. If the same commitment in relative terms were made today it would mean 2.5 million of Australia's best and brightest enlisting for service, with 350,000 of them never returning home and a further one million coming back but being far from what they were—damaged forever, shell-shocked with missing limbs and haunted by a past they could never outrun.

There is no question in my mind that those men and women who endured the bleakest and most savage of injustices 100 years ago should always be remembered. Anzac Day reflects on the horrors of war and the carnage that comes in the wake of such sacrifice. However, as the years progress and our slim generational attachment to the fallen becomes ever slimmer, I begin to wonder what drives people to remember and to commemorate. Young people, born generations after that tragic time, are helping to lead the charge to make sure we never forget. In the information age they are searching for an identity, an essential answer to what makes us Australian. The Anzac story is one to which they come back again and again. They, like me, are astounded at the sacrifice of that generation. They, like me, probably wonder whether we would be as strong again. I would like to think so. Perhaps we do not just make the history we need but keep the history we need—the history that reminds us what it means to be truly heroic, truly brave; the history that reminds us what Australians are capable of.

The Anzac story is an important narrative for a small country. It is a story that has often been retold in many guises. It is reflected in any tale of Aussie success or failure, whether it be Bradman, Freeman, Flynn, Mawson or anyone else who has stepped onto the world stage. Australia in the true Anzac spirit is a small nation that fights above its weight. This is our mythology, our reality. We know we can do anything, for it is in our DNA and it is in our history.

But why so many before dawn? Why do we stand there in the darkness before the sunrise? Why do people begin coming to the ceremony out of the darkness: children, Scouts, Guides and people by their hundreds? What is calling them to come out? Is it the Anzac spirit? Is it spiritual? Is it the unseen? Is it the blood of the Anzacs and Turks crying out through the generations, 'We are not to be forgotten'? The blood of the finest generation of men cries out for justice from a failed, fatal conflict in a foreign war on foreign soil. Is it the blood of the fallen crying out from a cenotaph, 'We were sacrificed on the altar of futility'? Is that what this generation identifies? Or could it be the most human of emotions? Is it grief, secretly passed through the generations by the thoughts and actions of their parents and grandparents? It is a response that grows over the years rather than diminishes. Is it that call to remember? The question for me is to be answered by other generations not this one. I just note the call.

I would like to mention, as I conclude, those who helped us with the local Anzac commemorative grants: Steve Moy, Nigel Hutchinson-Brooks, Lenoar Gullquist, Ray James, Perce Brewer, Ron Blaire and Colin Teese. They did a marvellous job. It was an honour to work with them. It was an honour to see the programs that they put together in this celebration.

This is a sombre moment. I heard the member for Wide Bay, the Deputy Prime Minister, speaking about his electorate and the establishment of the monuments that were there to represent those who survived Gallipoli and were then tragically mowed down in the next tranche of the war. I put the question to the parliament today and to the Deputy Prime Minister: could we send our children to that again? Could we send our 18- and 19-year-olds to that again? Like the Deputy Prime Minister, I was asked on behalf of the federal government to attend ceremonies a couple of years ago. We were asked to take a tiny cross made by kids from Tasmania and place it on one of the crosses. It is unimaginable. If the guns and the bullets did not get them, the conditions certainly did. Even though I said in my speech that I would like to think we would be as brave and as strong as they were, I would have to say to the House that I do not know whether we could be. But remember that this nation was believed to be absolutely under threat. We owe them a great deal for their sacrifice.

Angus Taylor (Hume, Liberal Party) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

The motion moved by the Prime Minister on the Centenary of Anzac reminds us that every Australian has a story to share about the Great War. Part of my own family's story of the Great War is the pain of one brother dying while the other survived. My grandfather William Hudson served on the Western Front when he was 17. He was badly injured in an attack at Bullecourt. He always had a limp. My great-uncle Athol, my grandfather's brother, was killed. Like me, he was a Rhodes scholar, but he never got to Oxford, other than via a memorial in Rhodes House that is there today.

It was a tragedy that many families experienced—like the Bolton brothers. Private Fred Bolton from Young enlisted in October 1914, while his younger brother Harry, inspired by his brother's efforts, enlisted in Cootamundra in 1916. Both brothers were fighting in different parts of the world when Harry was killed in 1917. Fred would return home to Young on Boxing Day 1918, later taking up farming just outside of Goulburn, near where I live today. Boys from the bush like the Bolton brothers, boys who could ride and shoot, became an integral part of Australia's involvement in the Great War.

Many country lads flocked to join the 1st Light Horse Regiment in August 1914, often bringing their own horses and some even brought their dogs. It was all to be a great adventure. Goulburn's Alice Chisholm was to have an adventure of a slightly different kind. She was a devoted war welfare worker who established soldiers' canteens in Egypt and Palestine, providing meals and refreshments to thousands of troops every day. Alice sailed for Egypt in mid-1915 with one of her daughters, after her son Bertram was wounded serving as a light horseman at Gallipoli. The lack of facilities for Australian troops prompted Mrs Chisholm, with her own funds, to start three canteens. Soldiers later wrote of her 'true Australian bush hospitality'. People from the country like the Bolton brothers, like Alice Chisholm, gave their all to the Great War.

It was in this true blue spirit that, 100 years ago, the Kangaroo march went through much of what is now the electorate of Hume. Gallipoli had resulted in such a huge loss of life that enlistments to the Great War had dropped. The Kangaroo march collected 222 men along the way. Townsfolk turned out in droves to cheer the men on. Arriving along Parramatta Road, down George Street and into Macquarie Street on 7 January 1916, the men were greeted as heroes by the waiting crowds. The Daily Telegraph, with the same sort of quality that it reports today, reported at the time:

They came quietly, not cheering or exulting, not lording it over all, but as men of firm purpose and steady resolve.

Many of the Kangaroos were recruited into the 55th Battalion, which was to arrive in France in 1916. The Kangaroos' motto was: 'I go out to return by courage and faith.' A re-enactment of this extraordinarily inspiring march, the Kangaroo March, will commence in Wagga Wagga on 5 September. The march will progress through Cootamundra, Wallendbeen, Harden-Murrumburrah, Galong, Binalong, Bowning, Yass, Jerrawa, Gunning, Breadalbane, Parkesbourne, Goulburn, Marulan, Tallong, Wingello, Bundanoon, Exeter, Moss Vale, Mittagong, Hill Top, Balmoral, Couridjah and Thirlmere, and many Hume villages in between. The march will arrive in Campbelltown on 10 October. Descendants of the original Kangaroos, brave men from the country who answered the call, will be participating in the re-enactment, and communities along the way will be hosting them just as they did 100 years ago—flying flags, hanging bunting and playing music. Everyone is absolutely welcome to participate in the march or to cheer the marchers on. I will be joining the Kangaroos for a couple of legs along the way.

It is a significant part of First World War centenary commemorations for my electorate and it is an absolute pleasure to support this great community-driven event. It is one of 34 projects funded in Hume under the government's Anzac Centenary Local Grants Program—the largest number of approved applications for a federal electorate—and one of the stand-out events in Hume. It was a pleasure to provide just over $13,000 under the program.

We have a large number of other outstanding community projects that are completed or near completion that have received funding to help communities share the special stories of their own fallen heroes. They are things like the new community memorials to be installed at Wollondilly Anglican College, Mulwaree High School and Goulburn High School; a school banner competition coordinated by the Wollondilly Shire Council; a commemorative book designed and published by the Mount Hunter Public School and another from the Picton and District Historical and Family History Society; a commemorative calendar published by the Collector Historical Society; an essay competition and art show from the Boorowa Remembers committee; a memorial and garden at Bungonia, Colo Vale, Binalong and another established by the Goulburn Rose Festival committee; as well as a range of other events and commemorations.

The Centenary of Anzac is a momentous year for our nation. Extraordinary stories have been shared of the service and sacrifice of the men and women of the Great War for the next generation. I thank so many of my constituents for sharing their stories with me in this centenary year.

Fiona Scott (Lindsay, Liberal Party) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

The landing at Gallipoli is an episode in our nation's history—one that broke the hearts of families, villages, communities and countries and forever entrenched the legend of Anzac as an intrinsic part of our nation's identity. Every day we still see parts of the legacy of Anzac right throughout our country. We shall never forget that 8,141 Australians would die on that peninsula. We should never forget that terrible toll, and we should never forget the devastation that more than 8,000 families endured. Families in the twenties were still coming to terms with their losses; you only need to look at the newspapers of the time: parents were being offered a medal in return for their loss. It does not seem to be a very fair exchange, but for those parents it was everything and for many it was the only thing they had to remember their sons by.

In 1914, there were fewer than five million Australians. We were a country full of hope. Out of the gloom of Victorian terraces and rundown inner city suburbs, a new Australia was emerging, a gentile country, a new country, making a statement with fine Federation houses, a new flag and a new spirit. We were no longer settlers or convicts; we were mates. We were no longer New South Welshmen, Victorians, South Australians, Western Australians, Queenslanders or Tasmanians—we always have our identity at State of Origin time; we were Australians. Yes, we were young and we were free, but we were still guided by what was, at the time, our mother country, Britain.

It was an era when the horse and cart still dominated the roads and when trams opened up our inner city suburbs. It was a period when we began to dream big. Then, on 28 June 1914, something very remote and unremarkable to the average Australian happened: a Serbian nationalist assassinated Franz Ferdinand, the Archduke of Austria and Hungary. The heir to the Austro-Hungarian throne was dead. On 28 July, Austria-Hungary declared war on Serbia. This, in turn, saw a complex series of treaties invoked which placed Britain at war with Germany.

Being part of the Empire, Australia was also at war with Germany, so Australian troops boarded steamships and headed to the Northern Hemisphere. Initially, most headed to Egypt and set up camp under the pyramids. For many young men it was an adventure, a trip of a lifetime, a free pass to visit family back in England. In Egypt, they were chaotic. There was larrikin behaviour towards British officers, and many ran amok through the settlements—but, soon, the fun would be over.

The war had reached a point where allied Russia was being starved of supplies because enemy countries were blocking access. A plan was hatched to try to ship supplies through the Dardanelles Strait—a body of water just over 60 kilometres long and, in places, just 1,500 metres wide—to supply Russia from the Black Sea. First they sent a shipping convoy, but the strait was heavily mined. Tragic assumptions were made. It was thought the Turkish army would be unwilling to fight and that troops would be able to take the shoreline and secure the Dardanelles.

On the morning of 25 April 1915 the first Australians went ashore. When they landed they faced a small beach and huge cliffs. The Turks were waiting. That we held any position that day was a miracle. We were in a stalemate for eight months. It was there, dug into trenches, that people relied on each other. That support saw incredible bonds formed, which we recognise today as mateship.

Gallipoli was part of a war that saw 416,809 Australians enlist and around 60,000 die. It ruined families; it broke hearts. But the mateship formed on that tragic shoreline would also serve to define our nation. We were no longer colonies. We were no longer English, Scottish, Irish or Welsh—we were all Australian. For a while, even our Indigenous population were treated as Australian and equal in every sense of the word. Sadly—very sadly—that goodwill ebbed away in the following years, and only now are we finally starting to break down the layers of discrimination. For the Turks, too, Gallipoli was a pivotal moment. It defined modern Turkey. It saw the demise of the Ottoman Empire. For the Turks, too, there were tens of thousands of families experiencing the pain of loss. In this hundredth year we commemorate all of this. We should never forget the legacy our forebears left.

In my electorate of Lindsay this year we are restoring honour roll boards for our local schools. The Penrith RSL sub-branch is organising the restoration which will mean those boards will continue to play a pivotal role for the next 100 years in ensuring so many schoolchildren also understand the losses. Recently I had the pleasure of looking at some of these boards at Llandilo, Penrith, Orchard Hills and Emu Plains public schools. On these visits it struck me just how well our younger generation understand the Anzac spirit and the honour in keeping it alive. These were kids in public schools, yet they knew what had happened 100 years ago. They knew what these brave young men did for our nation. Some of the principals will use those rolls as the basis for research on the young men from our local community that went to war. Students will pick names from the boards and check military records to learn about this history.

I would also like to talk about Wollemi College in Werrington, a school which is building a memorial garden as a permanent reminder of all who have sacrificed. Recently 102,804 poppies were planted in Poppy Park in Penrith—a poppy for every serviceman and servicewoman who has died in war since the Sudan conflict in 1885. Media right around the world talked about Poppy Park in Penrith. I would like to commend the work of Martin and Owen Rogers for bringing Poppy Park to life.

In September we will see the Cooee March go right through Penrith. A cooee march also came through Penrith a century ago on a recruitment drive for young, fit and able-bodied men to join the war effort. The government is supporting the march with a day of commemorations in St Marys. The original march began in Gilgandra with 26 men. They walked 320 miles. By the time they reached Sydney, they were 263 men strong. They were blokes wanting to help in a time of need, as reports were coming home about the horrific situation our diggers faced. In September, people will march in peacetime. A century ago, many marched to board ships that would take them to their final resting places. All of this is being remembered in Lindsay, with many schools this year having held moving Anzac ceremonies.

The human toll of this war was tragic. But there was a double tragedy. The workhorses used to till our soil and build our roads also left for war. It is estimated that 136,000 horses were taken to war—never to come home. Only one Waler would ever return. As somebody who grew up with horses, I was very proud as a 16-year-old to have my Waler take part in an Anzac march. I think my horse knew what he was doing that day. Horses in Lindsay are amazing animals. In fact, it was my great grandfather that joined the Light Horse. He used his two horses to grade the Northern Road and Mulgoa Road. He went off to war and, of course, his horse never came back. He marched out with the Light Horse Brigade from Luddenham. This year, 2015, is a year of commemoration. It is a year in which to be proud, a year of us remembering those values that still define Australia today and a year that we must never forget.

Michael Sukkar (Deakin, Liberal Party) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

In listening to the various contributions in relation to this motion on the Centenary of Anzac and the 100th anniversary of the landings of Gallipoli, it has been very moving for me to hear the various stories and anecdotes as well as the excerpts from letters written to loved ones by our Australian diggers who fought in that very fateful landing. It engenders in me—and I think it engenders in everyone in this House and, indeed, around our whole country—a monumental pride in those great men and women who came before us as well as, quite frankly, a feeling of inadequacy that no matter what we do in our lives and no matter what sacrifices we make in our lives, they will never ever amount to the sacrifices that those men and women voluntarily undertook.

It is lamentable that one of the things that we always focus on with the landings of Gallipoli, inevitably, is the fact that, from a strategic military perspective or from a planning perspective in a military sense, it was not our finest hour. I think that that is fair to say. But the courage of those soldiers, who voluntarily stepped onto the sand and fought their brave Turkish enemies at the time, is something that I think is a victory of their character and a victory of their spirit, and that, in a sense, has been something that we have been able to engender in this country ever since. Of course, at the time the mother country declared war on Germany, Australia was bound to similarly do so. If you look back at that 100 years and how far we have come in terms of being a proud, vibrant, independent nation, while still embodying the values, the commitment, the sacrifices and the spirit of those men and women who volunteered to serve, it is something that is quite extraordinary and amazing. One thing that I have really appreciated, even in my lifetime, is the sense of patriotism, the attention and the respect that we increasingly give to those men and women who served in the First World War and, in particular, the 20,000 Australians who fought at Gallipoli.

In my own electorate of Deakin, I was very fortunate to be able to speak at a dawn service at the Ringwood RSL. It was quite extraordinary for me when I got up to speak; it was the first time, in the dark, that I was able to look out on the crowd. We had to close down Maroondah Highway. There were 5,000 or 6,000 people who arrived at the Ringwood clock tower for the service organised by the Ringwood RSL. It was absolutely awe-inspiring for me to look out at something that was more akin to a football crowd than anything that I had seen before at a dawn service. Having grown up in Ringwood myself, I can track in my own mind the growth of that dawn service over the last 20 years or so. That, I think, is testament to our national leaders over many years, our civic institutions, and our returned servicemen and servicewomen, who have gone out of their way to make the story, the courage, the commitment and the love of country of those men and women at Gallipoli real—real for people in my generation and real for the younger Australians coming through.

It was not only the Ringwood RSL. I attended services and marched with the Blackburn RSL and the Croydon RSL, and I spoke to members of the Mitcham RSL. The numbers of young men and women, of students and of schools who participated and got involved are very, very heartening for me, because one of our primary obligations and jobs is to ensure that young people coming through appreciate—even more than we appreciate now—the sacrifice of those great Australians. We are extraordinarily blessed. In the rough and tumble of arguments that go on in our society and in this chamber, we must never forget that we are extraordinarily blessed and that none of it would be possible were it not for the sacrifice of those men and women in World War I and of all of our servicemen and servicewomen in later years. What bigger sacrifice than to knowingly and willingly put yourself in harm's way for the love of your country and, more importantly, for the love of our democratic freedoms and values?

It was also an outstanding honour for me, as a member of parliament, to be able to assist various local groups in my electorate of Deakin to appropriately commemorate the Centenary of Anzac through our Anzac Centenary Local Grants Program. It was wonderful that the community, returned services, historical societies and others so enthusiastically embraced the opportunity to raise the profile and really bring home to our young people, in particular, the enormity and the importance of the Centenary of Anzac. I am very pleased that I was able to recommend and support funding for the Croydon Historical Society, who are putting together a very important publication on the local servicemen and servicewomen who served. What better way to create vivid images and knowledge in our young people's minds than to give them stories of local people—somebody who might have been born and had grown up on a street two minutes from your own home, who might have gone to your primary school, who may be a great-great-grandfather or great-great-grandmother to one of your mates at school? What better way to make it real for them, rather than just a purely historical exercise, than to tell those stories? I was very pleased to be able to support the Croydon Historical Society.

I was also pleased that we were able to support the Australian Institute of Genealogical Studies, who similarly want to tell the stories of local people who went away to fight and who want to enable their families—many of whom may not know that they existed, may not know of this service—to search for them and find them in an easy way. Similar to that is some support that I, along with the members for Casey, Aston and La Trobe, gave Eastern Regional Libraries, who have put together an outstanding database, an easy reference guide and tool, that can be used by anybody to search for their loved ones and get a full understanding of their service—precisely what they did—and all the details that we can possibly summon about these people. We are very blessed: we are the Google generation and everything is at our fingertips. Organisations like the Croydon Historical Society and the Institute of Genealogical Studies do that hard work for us and enable us to make those stories real.

I was also very pleased to be able to support the Maroondah City Council and Whitehall City Council, who are putting together a program of events over the next 12 to 48 months that will progressively ensure that we commemorate all of the key milestones for Australians in World War I. It will be very important that we do not just move on from the centenary year but that we ensure that we recognise appropriately all of the key milestones for Australians over that time. For that reason, I am very honoured to speak today and I commend all of my colleagues who have contributed to this debate.

Mrs Bronwyn Bishop (Mackellar, Liberal Party) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

In my electorate of Mackellar, every Anzac Day we commemorate the significance of World War I, and particularly the landing at Gallipoli, in a very memorable way right up and down the peninsula, which in my electorate is from Palm Beach to Dee Why. We do it over two days. We do it on Anzac Day itself but also on the Sunday that precedes Anzac Day. It is comprised of marches, of services, of a unique one-kilometre line of taxi cabs at Manly-Warringah that take the war vets into the city and through the streets of Sydney so they too can be part of it.

We have a unique service which takes place at Collaroy, where a single lifesaving boat usually goes out and, with oars high, a wreath is placed into the ocean waters to recognise the service and sacrifice. But, on this occasion, for this significant 100th anniversary, we decided that the Prime Minister's electorate and mine, which are joined, would combine to have some very important ceremonies take place. One was the commemoration service that took place at Rat Park. In attendance were the Governor of New South Wales, His Excellency General the Hon. David Hurley; the Prime Minister; the Premier of New South Wales, Mr Mike Baird; myself; the state members for Wakehurst, Pittwater and Davidson; and mayors and councillors from Manly-Warringah, Pittwater and Mossman councils.

The planning for this event took over two years of dedicated work by the Centenary of Anzac Organising Committee, comprising representatives from the federal electorates of Mackellar and Warringah, with Pittwater, Warringah and Manly councils, New South Wales Police, the State Transit Authority, the Rural Fire Service, the Vietnam Veterans Association, the National Servicemen's Association, RSLs and RSL sub-branches and others all involved. The committee was served by the chairman, Mr Bill Hardman, President of the Forestville RSL Sub-Branch; the deputy chairman, Commodore Graham Sloper AM, RAN (Rtd) from the Avalon sub-branch; together with a hardworking committee. The success of the day was made possible by the hard and dedicated work that they put in.

On the day, veterans, schoolchildren, Scout clubs, Girl Guides groups, New South Wales Police, Rural Fire Service, marine rescue, SES and various community group representatives assembled in the Boondah Reserve and marched up Pittwater Road to the strains of music played on pipes and by marching bands. Thousands lined the route and at Pittwater Rugby Park the marchers were greeted by a packed grandstand.

The Australian government provided each electorate with a grant to enable commemorations to take place. Mackellar and Warringah combined to fund the project under the Anzac Centenary Local Grants Program, which aimed to give Australians the opportunity to honour the service and sacrifice of all those who have worn our nation's uniform and those who have made the highest sacrifice.

Also on that Anzac Day, thousands of people gathered on the Dee Why beachfront to commemorate the 100th anniversary. This is a traditional place where, each Anzac Day, we march and gather. But on this occasion, thousands and thousands of people attended, and 100 children carrying candles and bearing small white crosses on which personal messages had been written stopped at the dais and placed the white crosses in beds of sand. Instead of one surf-lifesaving boat going out towards the line of breakers, this time 100 boats took part in a very moving ceremony.

All of this brings back to my mind the occasion when I was able to attend the 90th anniversary of the landing on Gallipoli, when I was part of the ADF Parliamentary Program. I was able to join HMAS Anzac, which formed the backdrop for the commemoration service at Gallipoli, and to be part of not 10,000 people but 20,000 people who were present on that occasion—it was packed. We arrived there at one o'clock in the morning, and we waited through those hours until the time was right for the ceremony to commence. I can say, as we stood there, or sat, or huddled, the weather and the temperature got colder and colder. And the closer we got to dawn, the colder was the temperature—the sort of temperature that seeps into the very marrow of your bones, and you feel that chill. The service itself was moving, and one could not help but feel what had happened there—in my case, 90 years ago; for those who were there this time, 100 years ago. The significance of that landing also involved the Navy. HMAS AE2, Australia's submarine, had passed through the Dardanelles, and was certainly influential in, and part and parcel of, the decision to land at Gallipoli and to dig in.

We talk of Gallipoli as being of such enormity in our history—and it is—and yet it was a defeat. People who are not, perhaps, imbued with the understanding of that event, are often perplexed as to why it is we commemorate with such fervour something that was, in fact, not a victory but a defeat. Yet when the Australians did take Lone Pine—you can say that the taking of Lone Pine in itself was a victory. And yet we lost so many: over 8,000 who died. And of course, those who were evacuated went on to serve on the Western Front—and we are now becoming more involved in and knowledgeable about just what took place on the Western Front and how, finally, with General Monash, we did see success.

The plan for the Gallipoli landing did not look like a bad plan. It was meant to foreshorten the war. If it had been successful, it may well have done just that. But what it did give us was the concept of Anzac—the concept of mateship; the concept of being there for your mate and of looking after his welfare. And, as we in my electorate over the weekend commemorated Vietnam Veterans Day, one has to say that every Australian who has worn the Australian uniform is imbued with that concept—that wonderful concept—of Anzac. Those who fought in the Vietnam War were fine soldiers who were initially spurned by an uncritical public, when they came home. But they too had the spirit of Anzac in them, and they served with distinction. But to return to the landing at Gallipoli itself, it is amazing how it has come to be that Australia and Turkey have drawn together, through the suffering and the loss of life, and that we have formed a bond of friendship, with these words of Ataturk:

Those heroes that shed their blood and lost their lives ... You are now lying in the soil of a friendly country. Therefore rest in peace. There is no difference between the Johnnies and the Mehmets to us where they lie side by side here in this country of ours ... You, the mothers who sent their sons from faraway countries, wipe away your tears; your sons are now lying in our bosom and are in peace. After having lost their lives on this land they have become our sons as well.

Adam Bandt (Melbourne, Australian Greens) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

This year, many of us in this chamber and elsewhere have spoken of the sacrifice and bravery of the Anzac diggers, nurses, and other military personnel. It is right that we do so. But it is also right that we seek meaning in this sacrifice, and that we question what was achieved by the Great War and how we should best honour and learn from the deaths of so many. The lessons of history are critically important to us today if we are to avoid the mistakes of the past. Australia suffered 60,000 dead and 156,000 wounded in the Great War. The hidden emotional and psychological scars of the war that were never reflected in the statistics ran deep in many thousands of veterans and in the families of returned soldiers. An entire generation of children grew up without their fathers—and while many of those who returned were physically present, they were still missing.

So what exactly does it mean to commemorate 100 years of the Anzacs? And why do we choose to do this as a nation? And do we do this for the right reasons? These are important questions to answer. Commemorating means paying respects by remembering and honouring the sacrifices of Australians and New Zealanders who fought in the Great War. But it does not mean to celebrate or to glorify war, and we must be careful to avoid this. The commemoration must be more than simply a ritual; it must be full of meaning. Bill Denny, a veteran of the South Australia RSL, said in 2012 of the Anzac Centenary commemoration: 'The overarching obligation we have when we anticipate any Anzac commemoration is to truly recognise and accept the brutality, senselessness, and futility of war.' That is from a veteran today. But you might be surprised to hear this quote from the opening of the Australian War Memorial on 11 November 1941, from Australia's Governor General, Lord Gowrie, a Victoria Cross winner and a severely wounded veteran of the Great War. Whilst praising the heroic efforts of the Australian soldiers, and their willingness to sacrifice for the cause they believed in, he stated:

Now the war lasted for four years. It was responsible for the death of over eight million able-bodied men. It was responsible for the wounding and maiming of many, many millions more. It caused universal destruction, desolation and distress without bringing any compensating advantage to any one of the belligerents. It was a war which settled nothing; it was a war in which all concerned came out losers.

Lest we forget that, as we reflect upon this year's commemoration.

The stories that we tell now about the experiences of people 100 years ago matter. The stories that I have heard in my electorate of Melbourne have given me a new insight into the Anzac experience and reminded me of how deeply the effects of war were felt. It has been moving to hear of the soldiers who attended schools or their predecessors in my electorate—including Flemington Primary School, Richmond Primary School, Mount Alexander College and Carlton Gardens Primary School—who never came home from war. It has been a privilege to support these schools in their commemorations.

I have been deeply moved to hear the stories of not only those who fought but those who cared for them. The Royal Australasian College of Surgeons has recognised the work of Australian surgeons who, through their medical advances during the course of the war, saved many thousands of lives. It was a time when women were so often excluded from the medical profession, so it has been humbling to learn through the memorial of the Victorian Medical Women's Association of the lengths to which Australia's medical women went to ensure that they too could be present in France to save lives.

Caring did not only happen at the front. The thousands of Australian men who fought and died were outnumbered by those who returned to Australia with a permanent disability. The lifetime of work for the women who remained to care for them has too often been unacknowledged in our history. I am pleased to support in my electorate the development of a memorial for women caring for veterans of war. It is right that we now remember the role of the carer in war and reflect on how we can today care for Australia's veterans.

For as we remember those who served a century ago, we must not forget that we are still in an open-ended war in Iraq. If the history of the West's involvement in Middle Eastern wars is anything to go by, there will be few winners and nothing permanent may be settled from this military conflict.

The senselessness of the Great War is best reflected in the questionable reasons for its occurrence, the reasons—the madness and hysteria, and the leadership failures—that led the world into a war that killed 37 million people, three million of them unknown soldiers whose bodies were never recovered and who are often left unaddressed in Anzac commemorations. It was a war that helped set up another world war which years later claimed another 85 million lives.

Much has been written over the past 100 years on what caused this hideous and appalling conflict that killed so many people. Respected historian Paul Ham, in his book written last August for the 100-year commemoration of the First World War and called 1914: The year the world ended, said that World War I was:

… an avoidable nightmare … an unnecessary exercise in collective stupidity and callousness launched by profoundly flawed and emotionally unintelligent men ... that determined the direction of the 20th century.

Ham points the finger of blame for this avoidable war directly at politicians and governments, who he claims were 'wide-awake, sentient decision-makers' who 'collectively manufactured' the war. He also says:

Europe's rulers and political leaders knew something most of their people didn't; a war was coming. A few powerful, old, aristocratic men [brought] war on the world from behind closed doors, free from the scrutiny of a fully enfranchised public or an uncensored press.

He then says:

… for four years, European Governments compelled millions of young men to go to war, to die, to be terribly mutilated, gassed or mentally ruined. They [have] used propaganda, [plain] lies, white feathers, threats and political expedience to goad, threaten, terrify and humiliate men into uniform.

He also strikingly states in the book's conclusion:

Only a legal construction distinguished the Great War from the government-sponsored mass murder of youth.

Could the invasion of Iraq over a decade ago, the subsequent war and the region's descent into barbaric, bloody chaos have been an avoidable nightmare as well? Was it also a failure of leadership and a few powerful politicians and an executive away from scrutiny and a fully enfranchised public that delivered us to this war?

At the same time as our then Prime Minister committed us to joining the United States in the Iraq war, hundreds of thousands of Australians took to the streets of cities across our country to declare that this decision was not in their name and that Australia and Australians should not again become entangled in a war far from home.

Unlike many democracies, in this country it is our Prime Minister who determines whether we go to war. This is plainly wrong. In the US, a vote of Congress decides; in the UK, it is a vote of the House of Commons. In Australia, it should be a vote of parliament, and the Greens will continue to push for that change.

It is critical in this context, as we commemorate 100 years of Anzac, that we reflect on this question of how we are able to get involved in wars. It is critical at this commemoration that we reflect upon the causes of all war, just as much as we reflect upon the many acts of bravery and sacrifice in war. A war avoided is a tragedy foregone.

The Anzac commemoration must also reflect that, as now, back then we were also deeply divided and questioning of our commitment to the war. The 1916 and 1917 referendum votes on conscription, in which conscription was rejected, are examples of how much the war tore the fabric of Australian society apart. If our national identity was born in the Great War, suggesting we all came together as one following the beaches of Gallipoli and the fields of France, then this too is part of our national identity, that we are a people sceptical of fighting in foreign wars beyond our shores. This must be acknowledged.

On this centenary, we must remember our brave ancestors who fought and died not just to win the war but to win the peace. Looking back over the last century, the world has collectively failed in this regard. Indeed, it seems easier to win wars than to win the peace. But this does not mean we should not persevere in resolving conflicts without violence. In remembering the past, we must heed its lessons and feel the suffering of those who came before us. This must lead us to pursue means of achieving peace without violence and the deep pain, suffering and loss that wars bring. We must strive to ensure that our value for life overwhelms the tensions and differences that exist between us. We must not be afraid to challenge the existing powers and broader stories when they push us to repeat the mistakes of the past, whether that be with our families, our friends or our leaders elected to represent us.

Debate adjourned.