Anzac forgetting and remembering

For Scott McIntyre

Anzac Day continues to move us,

& grow, despite attempts to make it 

a media event (left to them we’d attend

‘The Foxtel Dawn Service’). But The March is

proof we got at least one thing right, informal,

straggling & more cheerful than not, it’s

like a huge works or 8 Hour Day picnic-

if we still had works, or unions, that is.

John Forbes

They said:

Today, this day, is not the day to remember some things.

Today, this day, is the day to remember other things,

They said.

Today we will remember some things but not others.

Today we will not remember innocent children, on the way to school, murdered,

their shadows seared into the concrete of Hiroshima.

Today we will not remember that two of the largest single-day terrorist attacks in history were committed by our allies in Hiroshima & Nagasaki.

Today we will not remember the summary execution, . . . rape and theft committed by some ‘brave’ Anzacs in Egypt, Palestine and Japan.

Poorly-read, largely white, nationalist drinkers and gamblers are not allowed to pause today to remember the horror that all mankind suffered.

Poorly-read, largely white, nationalist drinkers and gamblers seem unable to pause today to remember the horror that all mankind suffered.

We will not remember that Anzac Day has become the cultification of an imperialist invasion of a foreign nation with which Australia had no quarrel.

We will not remember that this is against all ideals of modern society,

largely because it has never even crossed our minds.

Today we will remember and idealise the Australian soldier,

devoid of malice, devoid of sin, devoid of life

and wait for another day in a few days, weeks or months’ time

to let the truth-telling begin.

If we remember.

The Week that Was

Last week was my busiest for a while: marking, lecturing and watching a veritable churn of my work going out into the public via various sources.

My work on Soccer Anzacs in Victoria had reached a critical mass. Athas Zafiris (of Shoot Farken fame) and I had worked our arses off putting together the bones of a database of Victorian soccer players in 1914-1915. We had reached a point where we could start to make some decent substantive observations: 800-100 players, 70-80% enlistment rate, 15-25% casualty rate of those who enlisted, for example.

We also had identified a number of interesting and moving stories about teams, mates and players that were worthy of sharing.

FFV had agreed to publish material I supplied them. They started with an overview piece 'Behind the Lines' to which they attached the series of cameos. They generously allowed me to seek further publication for the material, So I was delighted when Joe Gorman at Leopold Method agreed to spread the word in a series called 'We Shall Remember Them'.

The stories also reached The St Kilda News and the Mirboo North local paper (waiting for confirmation of the latter).

I was truly astounded though by the effect of my piece on the Irymple 9 published in the Sunraysia Daily. The article was read by vice-captain of the present day Irymple Knights, Chris Romeo, who decided to act and create a brief commemoration ceremony for the 9 before his team's pre-season cup final against Three Colours. I will try to get a report from Chris when I can.

My final publication of the week came in the publication of this article Soccer also made its sacrifice in the Sunday Age, a kind of summary and example of the material I published during the week. It was also published concurrently on the SMH website.

I need to thank a number of people and bodies. FFV helped with funding and Athas Zafiris played a vital role of being both a smart and energetic addition to the project. Mark Boric and Roy Hay gave vital database and other kinds of support. Damian Smith still provides me with an inspiration for this work.

Anzac Day, by John Forbes

I think this is now my yearly Anzac Day ritual.

"Anzac Day" is one of John's final poems, written in the year before his death in 1998. He didn't care much for soccer, being a rugby league follower. Cronulla was his team, appropriately enough given John's history of drug use. He and I used to imagine we were the only ones interested in rugby league in Melbourne literary cicles and so we'd meet to watch grand finals at his place or mine. This poem nails Anzac Day.

I wonder what he'd make of things 18 years on.

Anzac Day

A certain cast to their features marked
the English going into battle, & then, that

glint in the Frenchman’s eye meant ‘Folks,
clear the room!’ The Turks knew death

would take them to a paradise of sex
Islam reserves for its warrior dead

& the Scots had their music. The Germans 
worshipped the State & Death, so for them

the Maximschlacht was almost a sacrament.
Recruiting posters made the Irish soldier

look like a saint on a holy card, soppy & pious,
the way the Yanks go on about their dead.

Not so the Australians, unamused, unimpressed
they went over the top like men clocking on,

in this first full-scale industrial war.
Which is why Anzac Day continues to move us,

& grow, despite attempts to make it 
a media event (left to them we’d attend

‘The Foxtel Dawn Service’). But The March is
proof we got at least one thing right, informal,

straggling & more cheerful than not, it’s
like a huge works or 8 Hour Day picnic-

if we still had works, or unions, that is.