I remember one Anzac Day, when I was barely up to my fathers idea of a sprout
I sat and listened to the tales he and my Granpop were talking about, the ANZACS and all that happened there my Granpop was there he joined under age as well, he lied to goin and go off and fought in the Boer War, then when that was over, Later he joined the 1st AIF he ended up at Gallipoli, I remember he said that he thought it was a good thing he was doing, Sadly he lost brothers and mates alike.
He had his uniform in his old keepsake war chest with his medals and stuff, souveniers, I climbed into his boots size9 donned hes heavy mothballed shirt and his old slouch hat sitting listening to his tales of heroic men and brothers iin arms, I watched the tears well up in his eyes and saw my father put his arm around his shoulder he was sobbing too, two soldiers, remembering different times.
I headed out for the back step of my Granpops house where I wiped the tears from my eyes and thought of those very brave men who fought for king and country, those brave Australianslike my Granpop those men of Anzac.
Today I went to the dawn service at the Shrine of rememberace and I remembered my brave Australian Granpop, my father and all Aussies serving our great country, I salute you all.