Quantcast
Channel: Greg & Ali - Mix 104.9 Darwin
Viewing all articles
Browse latest Browse all 671

Anzac Day poem

0
0

ANZAC Day Dawn Service Gallipoli 2013

Darwin teens Amy Chittick & Jack Lake were both at the dawn service in Gallipoli last month. Amy Chittick's brother serves in the Army in Queensland, and she said the pilgrimage to Gallipoli was one she's wanted to make since she was little.

Amy, a year 12 student from Darwin High School, visited Greg & Ali on Mix 104.9 Breakfast last Tuesday (12/5) and recalled the Dawn Service at Gallipoli in which she attended on the 100th anniversary of ANZAC.

Amy also provided us with the poem she wrote.

"Lest we forget"

A teary eyed mother hugged her son for what could be the last time, He left for war not long after he signed the dotted line,

"mother please don't cry I really will be fine, I am going away to become a man and protect this country of mine,"

He left for his training then prepared a piece of text, "a chapter of my life is over, god knows what is coming next,"

After months and months of training he had learnt all that he can, It was time to put it into practice and transition from boy to man,

On the 25th of April he waited with his head leaned against his gun, The boat stopped and his Comrade shouted "here we go get ready to run"

This young boy fighting for country only in his 18th year, Stormed up the bloody beaches ignoring his consuming fear,

Bullets flew past his head, the deceased lay at his feet, Not once did the thought cross his mind that maybe he should retreat

He fought so hard for his country with everything he got, Until he stumbled to the ground in pain after being shot

A medic rushed to his side and he whispers in the medics ear, "don't let people forget these sacrifices, make sure they remember them every year,"

He lets go of the medic as his pain begins to soar, The young man then goes quiet; he feels his pain no more

His eyes close ever so softly, his body is lifeless on the ground, His legacy will continue while his soul is heaven bound,

So many souls like his were lost, souls that will always be blessed, Husbands, sons and brothers; in peace you will forever rest

The pulse less bodies on the ground; of pain they were now free, Turned the white sand a dark blood red forever staining Gallipoli

99 years on and people continue to answer the call, To remember the sacrifice made by the men who gallantly gave their all.

A young boy places a poppy on the glowing memorial wall, And whispers "this ones for the brave soldiers who died protecting us all,"

The tomb of the unknown soldier adorned by flowers and wreaths, Is surrounded by 4 soldiers resting at arms while hiding their grief.

Cpl Ben Roberts-Smith remembers as he pins his Victoria cross, that war isn't all glory and that it is sadly full of loss,

The bugler grips his bugle and inhales the chilly air, He plays the last post proudly leaving goosebumps and raising neck hair

The last post sounds at the crack of dawn as the sun begins its steady climb, A veteran stands tall proudly as he salutes one more time.

In a parade through central Sydney a soldier marches with pride, His head held up he keeps in step; his medals clasped on his left side

In a distant elderly nursing home a young lady and hero met, They shed tears and embrace tightly before she whispers 'lest we forget'.

I always get goosebumps whenever I hear the last post play, When it finishes I am left with a tear in my eye every Remembrance and ANZAC day,

At my local dawn service I bow my head respectfully to the ground, All is quiet during the minute silence; nothing is heard, not a sound,

I pay my respects to the fallen while the flags are mast at half, I then place a small red poppy on the shining cenotaph

I stand back for a moment and clear all thoughts from my head, I then thank the brave soldiers that sacrificed so I can sleep peacefully in my bed/ that now lay in heavens bed

They gave their lives unselfishly so that we can live free, They fought and died under a rising sun for country, for you and me

The anzac sprit Is kept alive in so many different ways, By children, adults and myself not only on remembrance and Anzac days,

The sprit burns inside us as we live from day to day, Because of those words a young man whispered, the sprit will forever stay,

Age shall not weary them nor the years condemn, Laurence Binyon couldn't have said it better, we will remember them.

Amy Chittick

 

Thank you Amy. 

Greg & Ali. 


Viewing all articles
Browse latest Browse all 671