A New Zealand flag flutters among the headstones at Ari Burnu Cemetery on the Gallipoli Peninsula. Photo Alan Gibson
A New Zealand flag flutters among the headstones at Ari Burnu Cemetery on the Gallipoli Peninsula. Photo Alan Gibson
Anzac Day. This year, as we mark 100 years since the Gallipoli campaign, the occasion resonates a lot louder than in most years.
But separated from the event by 100 years and 10,000 miles, it's harder and harder to comprehend its scale and devastation and thus its significance in thisnation's history.
So we talk about it, we remember it, inasmuch as we can - the tales, anecdotes, horror stories and memories of our past and our relatives' pasts - and we read about it and watch it and hear about it, in the newspaper, online and on the telly and radio.
We take part in ceremonies and activities and pay respects to people of another time, not just because they were our relatives, but because they were New Zealanders and contributed to a major part of our collective history.
For my part, two grandfathers went to war and came back. My mother's grandfather on her dad's side fought in World War I.
I have no illusions about either the purpose or pointlessness of what was going on.
But as a student I wrote a paper once arguing that the depiction of armed conflict in popular culture, particularly movies, romanticised war. Stirring music, stories of heroism, camaraderie and even sacrifice paint an appealing picture for some.
That said, I disagree with those, like our columnist Rosemary McLeod, who say we're all excited about and celebrating or glorifying war.
By all means acknowledge the messed-up reasons we went to war, the horrors seen by our parents and their parents and so on, and the flow-on effects for soldiers' families and communities.
Highlight the fact that today Kiwis are heading back to the theatre of war despite the lessons of 100 years.
But don't deny the rest of us the opportunity to pay our respects in a meaningful way to the 2779 dead New Zealanders of Gallipoli, to the others who fought and died on both sides then and since, to those who came back and to those whose loved ones never came back.
We're remembering and paying tribute - not celebrating or glorifying.