Lest We Forget

[MB]

https://youtu.be/McCDWYgVyps


Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk

[NissanGQ4.2]

Lest We Forget

[MB TD42]

Yeah mate just in case we forget...

Sent from my SM-G960F using Tapatalk

[pearcey]

At the going down of the sun
and in the morning
We will remember them
Lest we forget.

To all those fallen ,and those who served, and those still serving, thank you .
Thank you is, and never will be enough, only peace will be the true enough.

[Plasnart]

Lest we forget.

[Grant209]

https://youtu.be/BB2Ad04mukI

[TPC]

DAWN SERVICE - ANZAC DAY
He stood quiet and alone at the rest on arms position a silent sentinel at the Cross Of Sacrifice. A young private, his old uniform in ragged condition, paying tribute to those who paid the ultimate price.

And then the others came, marching as one through the misty dawn. Marching as before, young then, united in belief. But older now, come to honour the dead from their numbers drawn and watched by the young digger, sharing their cross of grief.

“For we are young and free” our National Anthem’s words do tell, words sung proudly and with meaning by the gathered throng. Free because of the ultimate sacrifice of those who fell, fallen but ever included in our Nation’s song.

“O God our help in ages past” they then sang as with one voice. The young soldier listened, quietly mouthing the hymn, recalling those young men and women who freely made the choice to answer battle’s call - those whose faces never dim.

And then, called to prayer, they joined in respectful recollection, their heads bowed in remembrance of departed comrades. And in all their many prayers they gave their special attention to those not forgotten over the passing decades.

“Be still my soul” they together sang the final hymn’s refrainand the young digger recalled the hurt of battles past. “Be still my soul” they sang, and remembered all the loss and pain, peace in the words “safe and blessed we shall meet at last”.

Silence broken by the bugler’s “Last Post” heralded the ode. The words “Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn” caused them all to recall lost mates as private memories flowed, and they voiced their final vow “we will remember them”.

As the bugler played “Reveille” the ragged young Digger stirred. Slowly he climbed the steps to read the names carved in stone. He read and remembered - and it was the old roll calls he heard. Then the last name his eyes rested upon was his own.

Maurie O’Brien

[Maxhead]

My new Anzac bush slab



Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk

[Arfa Brayne]

From the old bloke down the street who used to wake up the neighborhood with his night screams,
The gentle "uncle" who couldn't have kids because of his treatment in POW camps, but would have been the world's greatest father,
The mothers, daughters, sisters, wives, who waited, not knowing if their loved one would return, and cared for those who returned damaged
Those who gave their legs, lungs, hearing, sight, sanity, and the ability to sleep.
For those who curled in a ball, hid under tables, searching for mates, or paralysed with fear, simply from a triggered memory.
For those who took their own lives to stop the pain of the body or mind.
For the many old friends, now passed. Their suffering ended but still remembered.

They didn't march, they couldn't bear to watch it on TV or listen on the radio, their medals stayed in the drawer.
For them "Lest we Forget" meant something different from the media's twist of heroes and glory
For them it meant "Lest we forget the futility, stupidity, and loss - that is war"

My heart still aches for the price you paid.

I will not forget.