Today, in Australia and New Zealand, we commemorate Anzac Day. It is a national day of remembrance in both countries that broadly commemorates all Australians and New Zealanders (including animals) “who served and died in all wars, conflicts, and peacekeeping operations”. It particularly honours those Army soldiers who served at Galliopli in 1915.
There are many commemoration services held around both countries and at Galliopli, but I have to admit that it’s been a while since I have been to one. I simply don’t ‘do‘ crowds. That doesn’t stop me from remembering though. While I am an advocate of peace, I have great admiration and respect for those who have served in the past, and those who still serve. I just hope and pray that one day such service will no longer be necessary and we will find a way of living in this world in harmony.
My chief memory relating to Anzac Day lies with my paternal Grandfather. Let me tell you about his war service. Don’t worry. It won’t take long.
My grandfather joined the Royal New Zealand Navy (RNZN) Intelligence Division as a Lieutenant to fight in World War Two. He was stationed at home in New Zealand but was required to go overseas regularly. He was injured in an accident (in New Zealand) and those injuries left him unwell for the rest of his life.
That’s it. We don’t know anything else. In the approximately five years my grandfather served, and in the years after, he was never allowed to tell anyone of what he did, and where he went. Granddad died about 25 years later and took his secrets with him.
It strikes me this year as I remember him, and others who served, that the trauma they witnessed must have been immense. Now days we are becoming more aware of the affects of the trauma soldiers face. We recognise the existence of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) and the havoc that can play on their lives in the years following their service. I know we still have a distance to go in understanding the need for help and treatment but awareness in itself has to be good.
But today, I am struck by the lack of this knowledge and understanding back in the time my grandfather served, and before in previous wars. I suspect war was very different then, to what it is today, but no less traumatic. Not just for those who served either.
My father was a child at the time his father was away at war. Neither he, not my grandmother were allowed to know anything. Not then, not ever. The hardship and fear they must have carried with them must have been huge. Remember too, this was a time of no emails, no Skype, simply no communication but the odd letter.
My grandfather, and many others with him, lived both then and into the future with no assistance in dealing with what they had seen, done and heard. The affect on their lives must be beyond our modern comprehension.
Granddad died, from his war injuries when I was three. I have just one memory of him playing in this front garden with me.
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“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.”
Trying to achieve peace within myself has been a life-long battle, not helped by long-lasting mental health issues. Achieving peace is a battle I continue to work on daily. The Dalai Lama says that peace can’t be achieved in this world until I find peace within myself. I think he’s right, purely for the reason that I am part of this world. I am affected by what happens in this world. Sounds simplistic, doesn’t it?
I live in a small country, almost on the edge of the world, called New Zealand. Our population is only 4.5 million. I know that’s pretty small, but it needs to be kept in perspective. Our statistics might not sound much, until you think about the proportion of people in our population affected by the country’s decision to be a part of war. We all with be familiar with the six degrees of separation. In New Zealand, that shrinks down to around two, maybe three degrees of separation.
In the 11 year war in Afghanistan, 11 New Zealand soldiers (including one female) have been killed in combat. It doesn’t seem like much does it? But what if one of those 11 soldiers was your flesh and blood? Then their death becomes personal, and the war has a deep impact on your life.
On top of those 11 kiwi soldiers, there have been many more soldiers from around the world who have died, and then there are thousands of civilians who have also died. If they were your family, this is very personal. If you are/were a soldier there, then this is personal.
Six weeks ago New Zealand sent its last group of soldiers to Afghanistan. This is the last troops that will be deployed from here, as New Zealand is pulling out its troops in April 2013. I watched on the television channels here as those troops said their good-byes to their families at the airport. It was gut-wrenching stuff, not only to see parents saying goodbye to young children and husbands to wives, and vice-a-versa, but for one reason that must have been at the heart of most kiwis watching that day.
Just a few weeks earlier a total of five kiwi soldiers were killed in Afghanistan, in two separate incidents. Those five were from the same battalion as this fresh group were from, at Burnham Military Camp.
How could this new group of soldiers say good-bye to their friends and family, and have any sense of peace of mind, without this in their heads. And how could families say good-bye without wondering whether this would be their final good-bye? Would they come back in a box, like their friends and comrades had? I dearly hope not.
Peace of mind? I don’t think so. All in the aid of fighting a war.
Saying good-bye to troops headed for war is something my father knew only too well as a child. There was very little peace of mind for him as a six-year-old, and my grandmother, when my grandfather would be sent off to World War Two. Some 92,000 kiwi troops went to this war, the maths is mind-boggling to consider just how many kiwis were left at home, with little peace of mind.
Grandad as Lieutenant S.T. Reddell (1942)
You can read more about my feelings about my grandfather’s involvement in Peace Not War (Passion Profile Challenge #1). He was in the Royal New Zealand Navy Intelligence division. He ‘officially’ served his time in the War in the National Home Office in Wellington. ‘Officially’ he never left the country.
Unofficially though, and the reality for my father and grandmother is that, he ‘would go away’ for weeks at time. They wouldn’t know where, or for how long. It just happened that the ‘trip away’ would coincide with a naval ship or submarine leaving Wellington harbour around that day. They could see it leave the harbour from their temporary home in Kelburn.
To this day no one in the family knows where Grandad went, or for how long. He died in 1969 after a long illness related to his war injuries, but he was never allowed to tell anyone the details of his trips away. From the rumours, I think I’m glad about that because there would have been no peace of mind for anyone had they known where we suspect he was, or what he was doing.
Peace matters to me on a personal front because of the experience of my father and my grandparents. But it matters to me on a global basis for much more than this. I don’t believe that we were put on this planet to fight, kill and injure each other, let alone innocent by-standers.
“We are connected to the sky and connected to the earth. Together we are the conductors of nature. Let our song of connection be forever beautiful.”
Image and words used with kind permission of Alison Pearce (see credits below)
We are connected to the sky and the earth, but we are also connected to each other. Regardless of our history, race, ethnicity, gender, religious beliefs, sexuality or even simply our thoughts… we are brothers and sisters, as fellow human beings. However we choose to believe that we appeared here on this planet, and regardless of what higher power we choose to believe or not believe in, we are all one species. So why would we choose to kill each other? Why would we choose to destroy another’s family?
I believe that we choose war over peace because it is easier. Certainly not easier for those caught up in it, or watching loved ones in it, but it’s an almost simple way to win an argument. Just kill the opponent, or at least anyone who matters to that opponent. End of argument. Apparently.
If we could simply lay down our arms, and talk.
If I disagree with my neighbour, we stand in the drive-way and talk. It works because we are prepared to listen and understand each other’s perspective. It works, and while we have differences, we can still be friends, respecting each other’s individuality.
It’s interesting that in the past two years, living in Christchurch, we have all been through multiple devastating and deadly earthquakes. As neighbours, we all put aside our differences, and helped each other. The increased bond between neighbours is one good thing that came from the devastation. I suspect something similar is happening today in the areas badly affected by hurricane Sandy.
Peace between neighbours reigned for us in Christchurch, and was a very good thing. More important than arguments was making sure each other had the basic provisions of food, water and shelter. Maybe it’s a simple way of looking at it, but I believe that simple is often best. Talking and listening is often best. It by far beats the need to kill and destroy.
That’s why I have taken part in today’s BlogBlast4Peace. All of the bloggers taking part in this event believe that if words are powerful….this matters. The wider we spread this message, each in our own way, the more people will agree that the right thing to do is to lay down arms and live at peace.
I encourage you to read some of the hundreds of other blog posts on this subject today. See the official site at BlogBlast4Peace for more details.
Make a choice, and take a stand for peace, as I have done, and speak out.
“If you are neutral in situations of injustice, you have chosen the side of the oppressor. If an elephant has its foot on the tail of a mouse and you say that you are neutral, the mouse will not appreciate your neutrality.”
– Bishop Desmond Tutu Nobel Prize for Peace 1984
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“Never doubt that a handful of committed people can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has.”
– Margaret Mead
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Some Very Important Credits
My Peace Globes (used here and on my Facebook page) were kindly created for me by my friend, Michelle Frost. Check out Michelle’s blog to see what she is saying about peace today at Crows Feet.
Artwork and Prose from Alison Pearce are both used with her permission. Alison produces some excellent work, which can be seen at Art That Speaks by Alison Pearce. Her site is well worth a visit. Thank you for your co-operation Alison.
WARNING: This post was hard for me to write so maybe disturbing to read. It contains both disturbing images and references.
This is my paternal grandfather as a Lieutenant in the Royal New Zealand Navy, in 1942. His son, my father, was eight years old. Grandad died in 1968 when I was three years old. The cause of his death were complications to injuries he had sustained in World War Two (and lived with for over 20 years).
He was a Navy man and served his time in Intelligence, which meant serving overseas in places that his family were never allowed to know. Before my father died last year he would often tell me that as a child he and my grandmother would regularly have no idea where my grandfather was. They would know a naval ship was leaving port one day and the assumption was that Grandad would be on it. But because of the Intelligence requirements my father never, ever knew where Grandad had been in those times. There are family rumours now days but no one knows for sure. It’s probably just as well.
I never really got to know him. I have two very vague memories of being with him, but from all I have heard since, I’m sure this is a man who I would have got on well with. From what I know this was a man who would do anything for you, regardless of his own disabilities (from the war). For many years he worked as a Child Welfare Officer and would regularly bring children home to live with them. I like everything I have ever heard about this man.
Perhaps I’m being unrealistic but maybe if he hadn’t been required to serve in the war, and hadn’t got those injuries, he would have lived long enough for me to get to know him, and for him to see me grow up. But when you’re passionate about something I don’t necessarily think one has to be practical, and perhaps there will be more evidence of this as I go through my Challenge.
I can’t give you a whole list of logical reasons why war is a bad idea. I’m not like that. It’s just in my heart, that I can’t accept sending innocent mean and women to fight, and possibly be injured or killed; and I can’t accept setting up a situation where innocent people (who probably have enough crisis in their lives already) get injured or killed. It’s just wrong and there simply has to be a better way to deal with conflict.
Image via Dangeroustactics.com
When I was 15 years old I encountered my first gun. And no, this wasn’t some outback hunting trip (I’m not into those either but maybe that’s another post), but instead it was a recently ex-boyfriend who loaded a gun in front of me, handed it to me and asked me to shoot him. He said if he couldn’t have me, then he wasn’t going to live. There’s more about this man in a previous post, but that’s not really important. It was the beginning of a very long journey for me. What is important is that poor, little 15 year old me got the fright of her life. If I did what he asked, would he be dead? If I didn’t do what he asked, would I be dead?
From that moment on I have stayed as far away from guns as I could, and I really don’t see reason why members of the public should have access to them (especially somewhat delusional 18 year olds). Whether in war or peace, I think there is too much that can go wrong. One impulsive move is all that it takes to kill someone. Life is worth far too much for that. If we give people the right to carry arms, then we give them the right to create their own war, and then someone will always get hurt.
Recently I came across Charlie Chaplin‘s The Speech of The Great Dictator. Personally, I think the text is brilliant and Chaplin is convincing when you watch the link below. I could use parts of it to talk about most of the passions I have listed in my Challenge but I like this:
“Soldiers: don’t give yourselves to brutes, men who despise you and enslave you, who regiment your lives, tell you what to do, what to think and what to feel, who drill you, diet you, treat you as cattle, as cannon fodder.
Don’t give yourselves to these unnatural men, machine men, with machine minds and machine hearts. You are not machines. You are not cattle. You are men. You have the love of humanity in your hearts. You don’t hate, only the unloved hate. Only the unloved and the unnatural. Soldiers: don’t fight for slavery, fight for liberty.” (1.)
I am fortunate to be living in a country, and born in an age, where compulsory military service is not an issue. For my grandfather he didn’t have that luxury. He had to do his duty, and from what I understand he was proud to do it. Certainly my father was proud of his father, even though there was a sense of loss in the five years of his childhood that his father was gone, and then the rest of his youth with a father who had seriously ill health.
For me though, there is a choice. I choose to go with what I was taught as a child (as a Christian) and what many other religions also recommend in their own ways.
“There is a saying, ‘Love your friends and hate your enemies.’ But I say: Love your enemies! Pray for those who persecute you! In that way you will be acting as true sons of your Father in heaven. For he gives his sunlight to both the evil and the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust too. If you love only those who love you, what good is that? Even scoundrels do that much. If you are friendly only to your friends, how are you different from anyone else? Even the heathen do that. But you are to be perfect, even as your Father in heaven is perfect.
(TLB, Matthew 5:43-48) (2.)
No, my reasoning might not be enough to convince governments but it is what I feel strongly about. I don’t ever want to be put in the position of being made to fight, nor do I want to see anyone else forced for fight. I completely respect the people that choose military service but I don’t agree with the policies that make it necessary. Enough people have been killed in wars and I passionately believe that as a planet we have to find a better way to deal with our differences and our injustices.
Infinite Sadness... or hope? 