Accidental Tourist

A short/long side note that I meant to mention yesterday.

One of the other great things about the Gallipoli trip was the chance to learn more about the our gracious Turkish hosts.

Every year the Turks have to endure hordes of Antipodeans flocking to a small national park that has trouble accommodating the numbers of people. They are facing a tough job over the next few years in accommodating for the ever-increasing crowds, but this year they did well.

I have only good things to say about the Turks. They are friendly people who who extend a warm welcome to us Aussies for the one week of the year.

Aside from their hospitality, the Turks often fail to get a mention in the Anzac spirit, when they form an integral part of it. In our joint Aussie & Kiwi celebrations we often forget that one of the things that made the Gallipoli campaign special was the many stories of human compassion that crossed the border created by the dead-mans land between the trenches.

By the end of the 7 months it was commonly accepted that although the two sides were still firing at each other, a genuine respect for each other had developed. There are countless stories of food being thrown between trenches, wounded men being carried back to their own trenches by enemy soldiers and general human compassion shining through the madness of war.

It was this environment that nurtured the Anzac spirit and allowed it to shine and become what we know it as today.

One thing rarely mentioned back home is that Gallipoli was also a defining time in Turkish history. During WWI the Turks were only just starting to emerge from the centuries old Ottoman Empire.

The man who stood up and lead the staunch Turkish defence against the Allies was a man called Mustafa Kamal, later to become known as Mustafa Kamal Ataturk (Father of Turks). He forged his name overlooking the trenches of Gallipoli.

Over the next two decades Ataturk became the greatest progressive and reformist figure in Turkish history. He lead the Turks out of the shadow of the Ottoman Empire Islamic state to become a member of the progressive Western democratic culture.

He introduced a wide variety of reforms including a new Turkish language based on Latin rather then Arabic, introduced democracy, banned head-scarves, and many other Westernising factors. For more info: http://encyclopedia.thefreedictionary.com/Mustafa%20Kamal%20Attaturk

Basically, he dragged Turkey out Islam into the the modern democratic world. Although Turkey is still an Islamic country by religion, they are a Western democracy in most other senses. Even today Ataturk is still considered the founding father of modern Turkey.

After the war finish he also led the reconciliation between the Turks and the Allied invaders. As I mentioned Gallipoli is now a national park that has permanent memorials to the soldiers of all nationalities that died during the fighting. This to me highlights the feelings of good will, mutual respect and ‘mateship’ that now exist between all our countries.

I think that the words that best capture the Anzac spirit are the words of Ataturk himself. This quote has been immortalised in stone on the memorial at Anzac Cove, I’m sure you’ll all understand why.

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 Mehemets to us where they lie side by side
here in this country of ours.
You, the mothers,
who sent their sons from far away countries,
wipe away your tears;
your sons are now lying in our bosom
and are at peace.
After having lost their lives on this land they have
become our sons as well.

I’ve now returned back to London after my tour of Turkey, including the pilgrimage to Gallipoli for Anzac day.

I don’t have any amusing or entertaining stories from the trip, instead I have the (considerably long) tale of lessons learnt and experience gained from a trip that I can recommend to any Aussie/Kiwi.

Gallipoli History…

For those of you who are not aware of what Gallipoli and Anzac day is here is a brief lesson in Aussie history (please note that the New Zealand Anzac experience is inseparable from and often identical to the Aussie one, but I can only speak for Oz, so no disrespect is intended in the omission of NZ in this ramble):

Gallipoli is a peninsula on the west coast of Turkey, where on 25th April 1915 during WWI an Allied force, consisting mainly of the Australian & New Zealand Army Core (Anzac) along with Brits, French and Indians, launched a beach landing in an attempt to get a foothold of mainland Turkey for a variety of strategic reasons.

Due to the terrain of beaches surrounded by steep cliffs and a few debatable tactical blunders the Allied forces suffered severe casualties from the campaign. The Allied forces managed to maintain a foothold on the peninsula, without ever making substantial progress, before the decision was made to withdraw 7 months later.

About 480,000 Allied troops took part in the Gallipoli campaign. The British had 205,000 casualties (43,000 killed). There were more than 33,600 ANZAC losses (over one-third killed) and 47,000 French casualties (5,000 killed). Turkish casualties are estimated at 250,000 (65,000 killed).

More info can be found at:
http://www.anzacsite.gov.au/
http://www.dva.gov.au/commem/commac/studies/anzacsk/aday4.htm

Nowadays, the Gallipoli battle has come to take on a major significance in the national identity of both Australia and New Zealand. We both celebrate a national war memorial day called ‘Anzac Day’ on the 25th April, where annual dawn services and marches are held to honour and commemorate all Australian soldiers who have served for their country.

…End Gallipoli History

The main reason the Gallipoli campaign has taken on so much significance to Australia is that it was the first time we participated in a war as an independent country, rather then as a British subjects. It was the first time we stood up in the world and fought under our own national identity as Aussies, rather then being told to do so by the Poms.

Many of the characteristics that came out during Gallipoli we still take pride in today. Traits like mateship, larrikinism, a healthy irreverence for authority, and a general interest in having a good time.

Nowadays, Gallipoli is a national park in Turkey and memorials and cemeteries have been built commemorating the many casualties suffered there. Every year a dawn service is held at Anzac Cove (where the first landing took place) that is attended by various dignitaries and an ever increasing crowd of Aussies & Kiwis who make the pilgrimage (mostly from London) to pay their respects. This year I was one of between 10-15 000 people who attended the service, apparently the biggest group of Aussies & Kiwis to gather there since 1915 itself.

I’d heard many good and bad experiences about the trip for Anzac day. Everybody who attended had always said it was a moving experience that they would gladly go back and do again. Unfortunately, I’d also heard stories of people going there and just getting on this piss and making fools of themselves and paying no respect to the event.

One of the growing criticisms of the Anzac day service is that is fast becoming another event on the list of European festivals (like Oktoberfest and the Running of the Bulls) that the Aussie community in London regularly travel to as a party destination.

One of the traits I have become all to familiar with about the Aussie national identity is our ability to travel all over the world (and you will find us in hostels and pubs everywhere you go) just to end up congregating together, getting drunk and running amok.

With this in mind, I arrived at Anzac Cove at 10pm to settle in for the night and await the dawn service. Before long Anzac Cove was absolutely pack with fellow Anzac pilgrims. It was a big crowd, and Anzac Cove is not a big place. I’m really surprised we all fit in. Anyway, with this many Aussies crammed into the one place I considered it to be inevitable that it would just turn into chaos. Thankfully, I was wrong.

Over the next 24hrs, I came to realise a lot about what it means to be an Aussie.

Despite people being tired, cold, and crammed in to a small place, their was a friendly and festive mood through tout the night. There was no drunken revelry, but rather a celebration of our coming together under a common purpose and identity.

I did have my doubts at the time about any kind of celebration when we were there to pay our respects to our fallen forefathers, but in retrospect I think it was one of the positives about the experience. As I said, to me Anzac day has become not just a memorial, but also a celebration of our national identity.

There can be no doubt about the respects being paid. At both the dawn service and the Australian & NZ services later in the day, instant silence was given when asked, tears were shed, and memories of the fallen were honoured.

Outside of the services there was a celebration of the gains the sacrifices that were made to achieve. Their was a collective feeling of being happy to be there and being both proud and thankful for what we have.

A good example of this was at the Aussie memorial service at the Long Pine memorial. With the area crammed full of people all waiting for the service to start a festive mood hung over the crowd. Somehow a Mexican wave started up, keeping the crowd entertained for several minutes. Nobody threw any rubbish in the air (as often happens at the Cricket). Shortly after, the ceremony started and suddenly then silence reigned. There was no laughing, no joking, just people standing with their heads bowed listening to the messages of remembrance from the speakers.

Nowadays, its almost a daily occurrence for me to realise just how lucky we are in our beautiful country. Everywhere I go I can’t help but think about how nice the place is, but how it ain’t got nothing on Oz. Further to this, every person who I meet who is jealous of my travels makes me appreciate the opportunities that Oz provides us with.

However, it wasn’t all just the usual ‘Thank god I’m an Aussie’ identity that came through. There was also the much loved mateship, larrikinism, irreverence to authority, and obviously the good time being had.

The crowd of travellers became instant mates, you could stop and talk to anybody and be the best of friends. There always the usual larrikins running around the crowd, acting like clowns and having a healthy bit of fun and keeping everyone entertained in the process. The authority figures of the Turkish soldiers standing guard constantly had people coming up to them, chatting away and asking them to pose for photo’s.

It was all there. Everything we take pride in as a country came through. Despite the fact that we were all on the opposite side of the planet to our home, you couldn’t slather on any more Oz unless you chucked in a whole lot of cobbers, mates, flaming galahs and happy little Vegemite’s.

Although I would like to go back to Gallipoli at another time of year and pay my respects at Anzac Cove properly with no one else around, because it would be a different experience altogether, going as part of the Anzac Day pilgrimage is something that is hard to put into words (hence why I’ve used so many). Its not until you take the Aussies out of Oz that you really start to see who and what they are.

So there you go, as usual, I’m keeping up my tradition of becoming more and more proud of who I am and where I come from. At this rate I reckon I’ll have an Australian flag tattooed over my heart long before I get back home.