Week Seventeen: Anzac Parade

Well, it rained on the parade, but as it drenched us all, it added atmosphere to the procession through Arrowtown to the centoaph, the raising and lowering of the flag, the playing of the last post and the laying of the wreaths.

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:

Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.

At the going down of the sun and in the morning

We will remember them.

Week 17: Anzac Parade

On the morning of Anzac Day we went for a walk along Seatoun Beach. The clouds were ominous, but they cleared to let the daylight through.

Returned servicemen marched behind a brass band; their medals and their remembrance poppies proudly pinned to their chest.

"But year after year, their numbers get fewer. Someday, no one will march there at all."

I hope we will always honour the memory of those who gave their lives so that we may live in freedom.