Lest We Forget

As we attended the Dawn Service this morning, we were conscious that this year marks 110 years since that fateful morning at Gallipoli.  The crowd gets larger every year.

Neither of my grandfathers served in World War One, but both my parents had uncles who served.  Fortunately, they all returned home.

This is Mum’s Uncle Bert. He was born in England, but served under the Australian flag.  He was Grandma’s brother and lived in Queensland.

Granddad’s brother, Uncle Fred, was also an Englishman, who enlisted in Australia.  He was in the 54th Battalion and was a machine gunner.  We always looked out for his battalion in the Sydney Anzac Day march when I was little and it was sad when it came to be just a horse with the boots backwards in the stirrups to indicate that there were none left.

Uncle Fred was quite a good artist and he made Christmas Postcards for the troops to send home.  Here is one I can quickly lay my hands on.  As you can see, this was sent after the war was officially over, but he did not return to Australia until late 1919, so his war went on quite a bit longer than the official date.

My Dad also had two uncles serve, Uncle Arch and Uncle Ken.  Sadly, I don’t know a great deal of their details.  I do know that one of them suffered mustard gas poisoning, which affected him for the rest of his life.

Of course, my Dad was also in my thoughts.  He is pictured here with his two army mates, Dad on the left, Mac and Jim.  The three of them were together on the night Singapore fell.  Dad fell down a well and his mates got him out.  They managed to stay together the entire time as POWs, supporting one another.  Dad and Mac remained close for the rest of their lives.  They lost touch with Jim until this one meeting in 2000. Dad and Mac are wearing their 2/18 Battalion ties.

Lest we forget.