Whenever Remembrance Day or ANZAC Day comes around, I get a little more jaded. 

Honouring and ‘remembering’ the dead becomes increasingly hollow. But why? When it is such an ‘Aussie’ thing to do. I don’t understand it, now, as an adult. As a child, it was easy to comprehend a minute of silence. It was sobering and new to me. It taught me to reflect. But then I learnt about those wars we remember fellow Australians fighting and dying in. It was a superficial learning of facts and dates. My imagination filled in the blanks. Plus that movie, Saving Private Ryan, put the horrifying and brutal picture of war into my head; scarred me, not for the gore, but for the futility and non-sensical waste of life. 

Why I find these days of remembrance more and more laughable is because we are missing the point. We remember the heights of mateship etc. etc. And the sacrifice. But are ignorant to the point that those brave men and women gave up their lives, over an over again, so we wouldn’t have to. Today. But we do. Always choosing the path of war rather than adhering to the warning signs. Making these days, like today, full of ignorance and farce. Because we haven’t learnt from their sacrifice of life. But we go on remembering in ignorance. 


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