The material presented
here is not Al-Anon Conference Approved Literature. It is a method
to exchange
information, ideas, feelings, problems and solutions on a personal
level.
There is no parade this year. First time since 1915.
At 6 a.m. this morning people in our street will go out into the street to remember Anzac Day.
It is a big day for Oz and NZ. It remembers a battle we lost- in Turkey- in 1915.
I am a member of the veterans' movement in NZ. The sisterhood and brotherhood of the VA, the RSL and the RSA exists world wide.
More than often we embrace our former enemies.
In my family we had 15 people serve in uniform. That includes my grandma. Two killed and three wounded. Two of the wounded were uncles who killed themselves after WWII
One of those was a member of the legendary Maori Battalion.
Alcoholism and addiction issues runs rife through our family- and into future generations
Very much why I am here, finding solutions.
In our kawa, or culture we usually polish off the speech with a song.
Here is one I made up myself.
ANZAC DAY.
We instill the ANZAC spirit and the town was quite abuzz with Bill the blacksmith's helper and Joe the fuzzy-wuzz-
the kangaroos were languid but the kookaburras laughed when Jack the Kiwi trooper asked the RSL for draught.
The bar-room girls they sniggered and the diggers nudged their pals and the bar-man looked to heaven with his gaze took off the gals.
:"Now here's a dandy rooster" as he wiped change off the bar and the punters wiped their noses in that dry back country bar.
The kiwi was stuck for answers as Jack Bunbury dropped his cue and the silent wind grew drousy and the eucalypts drew in their dew.
The pause was growing pregnant and love might turn to hate- but the barman smiled and poured a beer as the kiwi uttered- "mate!"
{David} Your family has a rich and interesting history. I wonder you have ever thought of writing a book? You have survived your past! I'm still trying to survive mine! Had to deal with my older brother yesterday who gave me a life of PTSD. With alanon I am just getting over it, or maybe coping better, or both. Enjoy your shares, Lyne
I really enjoy your shares, David!
I agree with Lyne... your family does have a rich and interesting history!! I loved the song, and I just learned that "Oz" is a term for Australia! HA! I can't believe I have never read that, or heard of that!
I love that I can still learn new things!
__________________
"The wolf that thrives, is the one you feed." - Cherokee legend
"Hello, sun in my face. Hello you who made the morning and spread it over the fields... Watch, now, how I start the day in happiness, in kindness." Mary Oliver
My great grandfather fought in the Maori Battalion WW1. I requested the release of his war records some ten years back as they were sealed for 100 years. It was such an incredible gift to learn of him in those records. Small details like the tattoos he had. Observations of colonial Medical personnel assessing my ancestors. Then his wounds. Shrapnel injuries to the thighs; he walked with a cane after war; pneumonia. Now over a hundred years later, my country looks out its own citizens, fails to record him on the memorial roll and still mumbles lest we forget. Interestingly when those men returned here to their home island having seen war and all its stripping of illusion, they were less prepared to be ordered around by colonial authorities and Maverick traders who tries to place conditions upon the use of their clothing rations. These men rioted with some jailed for it. It's a bitter pill colonisation and Anzac day I remember my ancestor and his life, without which I wouldn't have mine. I look around and honestly I think his sacrifice is not comprehensible. But it touches me and I remember him today. ,<3
A. My grand=dad served alongside Company C, Pioneer Battalion. Don't know if you know but they weren't allowed weapons- they carried shovels! Granddad Lloyd was saved by his Methodist Hymnbook- in his tunic pocket. It took the sting out of the bullet, but he bled badly. My aunty showed me the hymnbook. My granddads died age 54 and 56.
Yet he was a crack shot with a rifle. Not alot has changed for my people today. They're still considered good for labor or window dressing NZ dictated government institutions. No son of mine will serve that country that's a promise.
