Back home ANZAC day always meant an early start to the day getting up for the dawn parade at the cenotaph by parliament. The benefits of living in Thorndon meant that it was an easy walk down the hill.
Not so here, I thought it was going to be quite tough to get down to Hyde Park for the 5am dawn service given lack of tubes etc, so didn't arise for it. Felt rather embarrassed after Helen and Josh got there from Clapham Junction, and Helen is working at the moment.
However, made up for it by doing a double header, first leg was in the crypt of St Paul's cathedral at 9.30am. Figured I needed to seeing I am still a tourist. A short service, with no hymns or songs, just the Last Post, Lament with a bagpiper and the Reveille. A small but dedicated crowd. The crypt was a very interesting place, with the middle being dominated by Lord Nelson's tomb, hero of the Battle of Trafalgar. Also around the crypt were a large number of other Admirals of the Navy, other important persons including Winston Churchill.
Post service, called home to Dad, to sadly hear that my god-mother had died the previous day. She had been been pretty good to me, and I am always grateful to her, as she took her role as god-mother very seriously. She was always there for occasions like the first communion, and as an English teacher really helped me to pass School Certificate English. She had been suffering from cancer for about the last year. However, in the last months before I left New Zealand, we were able to spend some good quality time with her, including a great night with whitebait fritters on our deck at home.
In a more somber mood, headed down to Whitehall for a march past and service at 11. Had been suggested to arrive at 10.20, to secure a good spot that I diligently followed, but would have been lucky to have even 1 or 2 thousand people in total, bolstered by a number of tour parties walking along the road. The highlight was the Irish Guards band who were top notch. The crowd was fairly strongly Australian and English with only a few Kiwis, so much so that I felt I was the only one singing the NZ national anthem in my area. Given my lack of singing ability, it wasn't loud either. One down point was the chaplain for the service was a representative from the RNZAF, whose attempts at Maori were disappointing and embarrassing, but hopefully only embarrassing for the NZers in the audience.
Of interest to me, was finding a bit more about the Gallipoli landings, and I was surpised to find that of the more than 500,000 Allied troops involved, less than 10,000 were New Zealanders, with more than 80% being British. I have always found it hard to compare Winston Churchill's involvement in the Dardanelles offensive and its subesquent failure with his more widely celebrated success in WWII. Also, it still puzzles me though, that a main point of success of the campaign was the successful withdrawal of the troops without further loss of life. Another celebration of a great withdrawal like Dunkirk, perhaps to paper over the failures that neccesitated the withdrawals.
So the day felt a lot different to it at home, where I view it almost as a second national day, but here no-one apart from the Antipodeans and involved English and Turkish officials really knew what the day was about. The lack of interest probably stemmed from the weekday aspect, but a few Kiwi building site workers managed to sneak away, but I guess the office workers were well chained to their desks.
Not so here, I thought it was going to be quite tough to get down to Hyde Park for the 5am dawn service given lack of tubes etc, so didn't arise for it. Felt rather embarrassed after Helen and Josh got there from Clapham Junction, and Helen is working at the moment.
However, made up for it by doing a double header, first leg was in the crypt of St Paul's cathedral at 9.30am. Figured I needed to seeing I am still a tourist. A short service, with no hymns or songs, just the Last Post, Lament with a bagpiper and the Reveille. A small but dedicated crowd. The crypt was a very interesting place, with the middle being dominated by Lord Nelson's tomb, hero of the Battle of Trafalgar. Also around the crypt were a large number of other Admirals of the Navy, other important persons including Winston Churchill.
Post service, called home to Dad, to sadly hear that my god-mother had died the previous day. She had been been pretty good to me, and I am always grateful to her, as she took her role as god-mother very seriously. She was always there for occasions like the first communion, and as an English teacher really helped me to pass School Certificate English. She had been suffering from cancer for about the last year. However, in the last months before I left New Zealand, we were able to spend some good quality time with her, including a great night with whitebait fritters on our deck at home.
In a more somber mood, headed down to Whitehall for a march past and service at 11. Had been suggested to arrive at 10.20, to secure a good spot that I diligently followed, but would have been lucky to have even 1 or 2 thousand people in total, bolstered by a number of tour parties walking along the road. The highlight was the Irish Guards band who were top notch. The crowd was fairly strongly Australian and English with only a few Kiwis, so much so that I felt I was the only one singing the NZ national anthem in my area. Given my lack of singing ability, it wasn't loud either. One down point was the chaplain for the service was a representative from the RNZAF, whose attempts at Maori were disappointing and embarrassing, but hopefully only embarrassing for the NZers in the audience.
Of interest to me, was finding a bit more about the Gallipoli landings, and I was surpised to find that of the more than 500,000 Allied troops involved, less than 10,000 were New Zealanders, with more than 80% being British. I have always found it hard to compare Winston Churchill's involvement in the Dardanelles offensive and its subesquent failure with his more widely celebrated success in WWII. Also, it still puzzles me though, that a main point of success of the campaign was the successful withdrawal of the troops without further loss of life. Another celebration of a great withdrawal like Dunkirk, perhaps to paper over the failures that neccesitated the withdrawals.
So the day felt a lot different to it at home, where I view it almost as a second national day, but here no-one apart from the Antipodeans and involved English and Turkish officials really knew what the day was about. The lack of interest probably stemmed from the weekday aspect, but a few Kiwi building site workers managed to sneak away, but I guess the office workers were well chained to their desks.
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