Anzac Day Tour of Gallipoli 2003 - Tour Review

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!

88 years ago the lads from Down Under volunteered to be part of the biggest adventure of their lives to fight for their country.

When the time came, these innocent young faces from the Southern Hemisphere stood proudly, accepting their duty with honour, not knowing the hell that would unleash itself in the near future. They were faced with an unexpectedly rough terrain and well dug in and strategically placed Turkish machine guns.

What followed was approximately 9 months of static trench warfare.

Neither side would yield; the fatalities were too numerous to count. The scene that was set is too horrific to imagine, but the Turks and the ANZACs were fighting a war that was not theirs.

There are stories of ANZAC and Turkish soldiers sharing tobacco and chocolate, and when a cease-fire had been called, there was always a certain respect they showed each other.

The brotherhood of mankind and the ability to put past hatred behind us was perfectly summed up by Mustafa Kemal Ataturk when he said:

‘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 your sons from far away 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.’

Anzac Day is a national day of commemoration in both Australia and New Zealand when we remember all those who died in war.

The ANZAC landings were the first occasion where the soldiers of these two fledgling nations fought together. In Australia’s case, soldiers of State battalions arrived at Gallipoli as State children and, at least for those who survived, left as Australians. In the process, a legend was created that survives to this day. In no unreal sense it was on the 25th of April 1915, that the consciousness of nationhood was born.

This year, some 88 years after that fateful day in 1915, it is the very same sense of nationhood that led 24 patriotic Fanatics and thousands of other young Australians to partake in our very own Anzac Day pilgrimage.

The Fanatics all met in Istanbul on the first night at the Sultan Hostel Bar and a few “quiet” jugs of Efes (the local beer) were consumed. A series of drunken antics and debauchery inevitably followed involving one scantily clad fearless tour leader, an even more scantily clad Turkish bellydancer, and some very unwanted homosexual behaviour!

The next morning we loaded up the bus and were sent off to Gallipoli. The ANZACs were given a uniform and a gun…the Fanatics were given a Fanatic Gold T-shirt, a Green and Gold Fez, a Freddo Frog and a nasty hang over!

We arrived at Gallipoli on the 24th of April and were given a fully guided tour of this now serene site. We visited Lone Pine and Chunuk Bair memorials, Anzac Cove, the Nek, Johnston’s Jolly and the Anzac Museum.

Standing on the shores of Anzac Cove was an amazingly overwhelming and powerful experience!

Reading the inscriptions on the thousands of Australian gravestones was also a particularly emotional experience.

Here we were, standing at the graves of the ANZACs, young men that were just like us…they were the younger brothers, the only sons. They could have been your mates…they could have been me!

At Chunuk Bair we all stood in the trenches and at the Anzac museum we saw, among many other incredible things, bullets lodged in the middle of skulls and bullets that had collided and fused mid-air.

Later that afternoon most of us retreated to our hotel for a much needed power kip whilst others (Dan “Sculls” Scully, Damo “The Golden Boy” and the Goldfish formerly known as Meredith) stayed at the battlefields and attempted to reenact the glorious deeds of those before us. They scaled the steep cliffs of what the original ANZACs referred to as the Sphinx, went for a skinny dip in the ice cold water of the Aegean Sea and shared cigarettes and Freddo Frogs with some Turkish soldiers.

We all gathered at Anzac Cove at about 1am on Anzac Day morning for what would become a very long and emotional day…one that will hold a special place in our hearts and minds forever. We all huddled close in the freezing cold hours of the morning under our sleeping bags and beanies as we eagerly awaited the dawn service to begin.

Our glorious Southern Cross flag was draped into capes, tied into sarongs and bandannas, and glued or fake-tattooed onto faces by the 10,000 strong crowd attending the dawn and Lone Pine services.

The honourable Peter Costello paid tribute to the throng of young pilgrims who ignored jitters over the war in Iraq, terrorism threats and the killer SARS virus to visit the Turkish battlegrounds where 8709 Australian soldiers lie buried.

“There are many young Australians here, like their great-grandfathers and great-great-grandfathers, who have trekked half a world away from their homes to be here for the love of their country,” he told the dawn service crowd. “They want the ideals of Anzac to inspire and encourage them again.”

The dawn service was an immensely emotional experience however it was the service at Lone Pine later that day that really pulled at the heart strings.

Before the service began there was a real feeling of patriotism and celebration engulfing the crowd.

Classic Australian rock was being played over the loud speakers, Mexican waves were circling, and games of two-up were being played in which several Fanatics were betting big and winning millions (Turkish millions – one Aussie dollar converts to about one million Turkish Lira)!

However as soon as the service started the mood immediately changed from one of celebration to commemoration. All the old diggers filed out one after the other on their various walking sticks and wheelchairs and were given a heroes welcome.

Several Fanatics noted that this show of respect was their proudest moment as Australians.

Damo “The Golden Boy” went so far as to describe it as “Pure Gold”! The wreath laying, ode of remembrance, Last Post, minute silence and National Anthem that followed was a truly moving experience and brought a tear to everyone’s eyes.

Later that night we all went to the local RSL Club in Eceabaat for a massive night of rum and milks and drunken games of two-up…unfortunately this time the Fanatics came away losing millions!

The next morning we returned to the historical city of Istanbul with some very strong memories of Anzac Day at Gallipoli etched firmly in our minds. We arrived in the afternoon and were given a guided tour of the only city to span two continents. We visited the Blue Mosque, St Sophia Museum, the Underground Cistern and Topkapi Palace and Hippodrome.

Later that night we all gathered at the Orient Hostel Underground Bar where not only were they playing some classic Australian rock but the bar girl had the most classic Australian mullet the world has ever seen!

We drank, danced and sang the night away and when the ugly lights came on at the end of the night we all bid farewell to our newfound mates.

Just like the diggers 88 years before us, we came to Gallipoli from all corners of our great brown land and left not only as mates but as Australians!