4 - Dispatch From the ACT

Like Washington DC, Canberra ATC (Australian Capitol Territory), was cut from unwanted land positioned between two competing parts of a new country.  ACT is home to the usually national buildings - Parliament, Archives and the Prime Minister’s Residence.  It is also home to one unusual building, a place of pilgrimage for this grandson - what they just call the “AWM,”  the Australian War Memorial. 

It has been 100 years since Australia landed troops at Gallipoli.  It was a birth moment for the new nation, just delivered from being a bunch of mere English colonies.  They were young and cocky and unlike all of the millions who got drawn into WWI, they were all volunteers - signing up for the usual male reasons - but also to prove their young nation had a proper place in world events.

They became known as ANZAC. It started as a dismissive British telegraph abbreviation for the Australian and New Zealand Army Corp, but it was soon taken up to become part of national identity and pride.  Every ANZAC is remembered as a founding father of their country.

My grandfather was one of those fathers.  I first became aware of that when I came here on R&R from Vietnam.  That was long ago, but as I aged  and became who I am, I have always been puzzled by why I turned out the way I have.  Nurture or nature, bred or raised, inherited or learned, luck or intent - don’t we all wonder?  Don’t you?  

Now I have the time and the means to sate those questions.  So again I walk back up the wide stairs, past the poppy covered bronze names, and return to this place built to remember those ANZACs who volunteered, who fell, and still fall.  I am chasing Granddad, and also myself.

- Returning Rod