ANZAC DAY ADDRESS

This morning on Kingston Beach I was present with many others at the Dawn Service. It was a cool Autumn morning with the atmospheric presence of several boats just offshore crewed by young Sea Scouts simulating the boats which brought the Anzacs to the beach at Anzac Cove as we gathered, just as thousands at this Cenotaph and other places around Tasmania have gathered, to remember the landing of the Anzacs on the Gallipoli Peninsular 100 years ago. That landing was, however, a far different scene from what we experienced this morning.

It had rained the previous night and, as the troops disembarked into their landing craft and headed towards the beach ahead at Anzac Cove, the air was rent with the thunder of naval guns directed at the shore where the Turks were waiting, and the noise of small arms and artillery fire which the latter were directing at the incoming invaders. The cacophony increased with the shouts of orders, returning fire and the cries of the wounded. Eventually the troops reached the shallows, leaping from their landing craft into the cold water often chest high, and scrambling to right themselves, get onto the beach and form up in some sort of order. It was the start of eight months of hell.

The Gallipoli campaign was strategically flawed. The British War Cabinet sought to break the deadlock of the trench warfare on the Western Front by opening a second front on Germany with a decisive attack on its ally, Turkey. It calculated that it could use the British Navy, then the greatest navy in the world, to ram the Dardanelles Strait, capture Constantinople and take Turkey out of the War. It was anticipated that this would bring Greece Bulgaria and Rumania in on the side of the Allies, relieve the pressure on Russia and expose Germany and its allies to attack from the British and French through the Balkans. Even had the campaign succeeded in the capture of Constantinople, however, there was no guarantee that the Turks would have been knocked out of the War: they still had supremacy in the Levant and Palestine, while the Balkan States were so ethnically and religiously divided that only an incurable optimist would predict unity of purpose on their part in opposing the German and Austro-Hungarian Armies.

It seems to have been assumed by Britains military and political leaders, from the experience of their imperial conquests that their troops were an innately superior race to the Turks and that the latter would not put up much of a fight. Little did they realize the determination of Johnny Turk to defend his homeland and his stoicism in the face of death, hunger and the incredible discomforts that the combatants on both sides had to endure. These leaders, unused to the massive destructive power which industrialised countries could produce in their weaponry, still used tactics which relied on pluck and esprit de corps for success, oblivious to the effects of these weapons which Germany had put in the hands of its Turkish allies. But perhaps the worst aspect of the conduct of the campaign was its total lack of secrecy. Five weeks before the landing on 25th April the British Navy had given the game away by a bombardment of the Turkish shore defences conducted on 18th March 1915. Although some of their guns were destroyed many more were not and the Turks had time to bring considerable numbers of troops onto the peninsular and to dig in. When the invasion came they were well and truly ready.

The Anzacs had been landed over a mile to the North of their intended position and faced precipitous cliffs. As the first men moved inland, congestion built up at the tiny beach now called Anzac Cove which had to cope with all reinforcements and supplies. Only one battery of field artillery was landed on the first day and units became hopelessly intermingled. By mid-morning the Turks had begun to counter-attack and by evening the Anzacs had been pushed back to a firing line only 1000 yards inland at the furthest point.

In the following eight months of intense fighting the Anzacs experienced heavy casualties and enormous hardship. From the cold days of their initial Springtime arrival through the blistering summer, followed by yet more cold in Autumn and early Winter they had to endure the screams of their wounded as they lay without hope of rescue in No Mans Land, the stench of unburied putrifying corpses of both friend and foe, the infestation of flies, the prevalence of disease, the lack of hygiene facilities and the fear of death or mutilation. The terrain was gut-wrenching to dig into or to fight over. And, worst of all, militarily, it was all for nothing. In December 1915 the order came to evacuate and in a brilliantly organized retreat the Anzac Corps withdrew without a single fatality, fooling the enemy with continued fire from unmanned rifles set up to discharge when sufficient water dripped into tin cans hung from the trigger mechanism. There had been but two casualties - one in the early evening of the last night and another, hit in the arm by a spent bullet as he left the beach.

Casualties during the campaign were high although in later stages of the war on the Western Front they were even worse. The author, Les Carlyon, claims that in the nine-day period from 25th April to 3rd May they amounted to about 8500 consisting of Australians, New Zealanders and some 600 British marines. Of these, 2300 were dead. For the whole eight months Australian casualties amounted to more than 26,000.

Why then do we commemorate this disastrous episode in our national history? One reason is that it was the first time Australians had participated as a national force in a major military engagement. Fifteen years earlier the individual Australian colonies had sent contingents to fight in South Africa during the Boer War, but this time they went as members of a national army. As with the rest of the First AIF they were all volunteers, many of them having enlisted in the earliest days of the War. They wanted to do their nation proud, and succeed in that they undoubtedly did. Their actions at Gallipoli so deeply touched the Australian psyche that only four months after their withdrawal the 25th April was named Anzac Day and commemorated with pride. From Egypt, in a letter dated 24 April 1916 my father, then serving in the 4th Divisional Artillery, wrote to his parents saying Tomorrow will be Anzac Day- the first anniversary of the landing on Gallipoli. It will be a whole holiday. They are going to hold Aquatic Sports throughout the 4th Division.

The men who fought at Gallipoli showed courage in the face of adversity, humour despite appalling conditions and stoicism at the loss of life, health and bodily integrity among their comrades. Many showed extraordinary compassion for their mates. The stretcher bearers are legendary for this quality but it was commonplace. In 1916 my father served in France in the 110th Howitzer Battery with a fellow Tasmanian, Bert Orchard, who had been at Gallipoli from the landing until the retreat in December. He had lost a friend in May 1915 to sniper fire and many times recorded in the diary, which he kept daily, visiting and tending his friends grave during the following seven months, yet again attending to his grave before going on board an auxiliary sweeper for evacuation to Lemnos later that day. Bert served another 2 years in France and was, like my father, awarded the Military Cross for gallantry. The Anzacs inspired the many thousands of fellow Australians who followed them to continue the fight in France and Belgium in the nearly three years of warfare which were yet to unfold with crippling losses before the Armistice of November 1918. They have continued to be an inspiration to all who served in subsequent wars and peacekeeping engagements right up to the present time.

While today we put a special focus on the Anzac landing and the whole Gallipoli campaign, we also remember with gratitude all the men and women who elsewhere and later saw service on behalf of their country. And we remember with sorrow the innocent victims of war the grieving widows, children and other loved ones and the civilians who were killed in the collateral damage of war. Her Excellency the Governor recently reminded us of the dedicated service of Legacy which continues to look after the widows and children of deceased members of the Armed Forces as a practical way of remembering them and of repaying in part the debt this nation owes them. The scars of war can be deep, scoring not only the bodies but also the minds and morale of many of the participants and it behoves us to acknowledge them and to do what we can to heal their wounds. Let us always remember that without the sacrifices and efforts of the men and women we honour today we would have inherited a far different quality of life from that which we now enjoy.

Lest we forget.