Although there’s lots in the paper about it, and people wearing poppies are everywhere, Remembrance Day seems to have less of a hold over Canadian life than Anzac Day in either New Zealand or Australia. Anzac Day commemorates the Anzac (Australia and New Zealand Army Corps) losses at Gallipoli in the First World War on April 25th each year. It is extremely important to New Zealanders, no matter what their politics — Anzac Day enjoys unusual reverence in a country where emotional public rituals are otherwise absent.
As a child, I never went to the Dawn Service (living on a dairy farm, the cows are milked at dawn whether it’s Anzac Day or not). Nevertheless, it seems the right time of day to me, the sun slowly rising up the autumnal sky, heralding a new day while the living remember the sacrifices made by so many. I understand why the Remembrance Day services here start at 11 am, but emotionally dawn means so much more.
Remembrance Day and Anzac Day are both days for remembering and mourning and wondering what it will take (or, indeed, if it’s even possible) for humans to learn to negotiate with words rather than munitions. The current news from much of Africa reminds us all how hard that is.