Three years ago I stood at Gallipoli and heard the last post played on a lone bugle. I was surrounded by thousands of Australian and New Zealand travellers and a large contingent of Turkish people. Most of us were older than the thousands of soldiers that lost their lives there. ANZAC Cove is such a beautiful part of the Turkish peninsula, idyllic, peaceful; wild flowers grow everywhere. It is a truly amazing thing that the people of Turkey thought it fitting to allow an invading foreign power to give its own name to a part of their country. We walked up the hill to Lone Pine and then Chunuk Bair to pay our respects, sing our national anthems, and honour those who made the ultimate sacrifice. Later that day, we drove further down the coast to another beach and toasted home as the sun set.
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 their 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.
~ Attaturk (inscribed on a memorial outside ANZAC Cove)
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