Few of us here knew them, certainly not me. Yet we come in our thousands to honour them for who they were, what they were and what they gave. And today we think of all of them, whether they wore the uniform of Australia, New Zealand, England, France or the Turkish people. We stand in awe of their courage, commitment and sacrifices.

Here they fought a brutal and ugly war remembered as much as anything for the strategic mistakes of its leaders, and the high human cost of victories and defeats alike. But no matter what the merits or otherwise of the orders which came from their political and military masters, the troops of all nations involved did what was asked of them.

They were doing something they really believed in – fighting for King and for country, or in defence of their homeland. They endured the elements and all its discomforts. They shut their minds to the pain, their illnesses and the risks. They thought constantly of their loved ones but never as an excuse to do less.

The Allied forces had travelled far to be here. They came young, fit and strong. They came enthusiastic and energetic - none more than the Australians and New Zealanders fighting for both Empire and their fledgling nations. Of the almost 60,000 Australians who came to Gallipoli, 8,709 of them would never return to see that young nation’s third decade of development. Just over 8,500 New Zealanders fought in the campaign and 2,721 lost their lives.

Looking through youthful, excited and inexperienced eyes, their task seemed simple enough, and few, if any, doubted success would be quick and decisive. Their beach-landing, they believed, would divert the attention of the enemy forces and open up the Dardanelles to the Anglo-French Naval task force seeking to make its way to Constantinople. To many of their leaders, the War would still be over by Christmas.

They could never have imagined what lay ahead as they neared these shores. And we can never hope to fully appreciate their deeds and their pain.
But we have certainly come to appreciate their legacy. Here, they gave birth to the ANZAC Legend and gave legitimacy to Australia’s nationhood. They raised global consciousness of the Australian character and demeanour. Even during the darkest hours they brought larrikinism, irreverence and dry humour to one of the toughest places on earth.

If you could do a word-count on their collective conversation, the word “mate” would undoubtedly figure most prominently. No word could be more synonymous with the character of the Aussie digger; and both their allies and opponents came to appreciate that. For the Turkish Forces the stakes were high and the urgency of their efforts could be seen in both their determination to hold their ground and their 87,000 dead.

Today we also honour them and their great military leader Mustafa Kemal Ataturk who later showed his great generosity of spirit with his famous and reassuring words to the mothers of our fallen ANZACs. The number of people making the pilgrimage here each ANZAC Day now roughly matches the number of ANZACs who landed here on this day in 1915. It is possibly the greatest tribute you could pay them – to travel so far, to stand in the dark and the cold at this early hour, and to shed a tear for them and their sacrifices.

Let us all learn both from their deeds and the actions and mistakes of their leaders. Let’s hope that our generation and future generations maintain a commitment to robust dialogue and the global frameworks which promote and support peace and stability.

Lest We Forget