Another gorgeous day dawned in
Turkey, we were leaving Kusadasi today and heading to Bergama today via
Pergamon. Pergamon is an ancient citadel
up high on a hill. And none of us were
really in the mood.
As we boarded the bus we were all
a little tired, hung over and at that point in the tour when we could use a day
off to relax. But onwards we went, there
was not much choice. Two of the guys on
our tour had gotten tattoos the night before.
One had the Turkish flag on his leg and the other had a map of Aussie
and a tiny NZ on his shoulder. Both of
them were regretting their decisions pretty much straight away, and we were all
having a pretty hearty laugh at their expense.
We pulled up to Pergamon and
headed up the huge hill by cable car.
There was a beautiful view from up there and the ruins were very
beautiful. Again I am blown away by the
age and the amount of what is left here.
After about an hour up here, we head to our hotel. We are all roasting and a bit sad to find out
that the pool has not yet been filled and that we are about a 45min walk out of
the town. A group of us grab a taxi and
head in anyway, with warnings from Alp that they are conservative here, so to
cover up.
It turns out that it is a public
holiday that day, Children’s Day. After some
shopping and bit of lunch, we come across a concert of kids singing, we stop
and have a look, much to the amusement of the locals. We decided that the day was nice and we could
all use the exercise, so we walk back to our hotel where we all have a
snooze. We are all conscious that we are
going to be up for about 48 hours come waking up tomorrow.
We ate an included dinner, which
was actually really nice, and then we turn in at about 9pm with a get up time
of 5am.
The next day is a bit overcast,
we get up early and we are all pretty excited.
ANZAC cove is on the agenda today.
This is what we have all come for.
We board the bus with our packs that will have to last us for two days and
there is an air of waiting. We watch a
documentary about Gallipoli. I find it
hard going and have tears in my eyes, which I don’t let fall. I am trying not to get too emotional too
early. We have a brief stop at
Troy. I am excited about Troy, I love
ancient myths and legends and have studied the story of Troy from the beginning
to past it with the Aenid. Sadly for
Troy, its scheduled on the same day as ANZAC cove and after three days of going
to ruins, we are a bit over it. There is
not much at Troy, a German archaeologist took a lot of it away, and displayed
it in the museum in Berlin. Also when he
was doing this and unearthing marble etc, he encouraged the local people to
take these materials away and reuse them.
What is there is well preserved and interesting.
After an hour or so there, we
jump on the bus and head to our last stop.
We stop for the ferry to Cannakkle, where we head to the supermarket and
stock up on the all of the food and drink that we will need for the next three
meals. And some BK for lunch. We are loaded down and the reality begins to
sink in. We are off to ANZAC. The ferry is uneventful, but then the waiting
begins. We get our bus number and then
we are stuck on the bus for about an hour and half before we are allowed to
head up to the cove. We play some fun
games like truth and lies, we hold up notes to the other buses, we laugh at
people who are trying to find a bush to go for a wee, which we can all
see. Finally we are up off to the cove.
We get off the bus and head
towards the entrance to the site. We
have to que to go through the bag check.
There is now a strict no alcohol rule at the celebrations. We are given arm bands and in we go.
My first thought is, what a
beautiful place for such a horrid history.
It’s a lot smaller than I thought.
The beach and the foreshore before you are faced with mountains is about
the size of two tennis courts. There are
grandstands erected, there are large screens, and of course there are the
trenches and the seawall. We find a
space to lay out our sleeping bags. We
are prepared for the cold. We sit and
watch the sun go down, whilst eating our dinner of hummus and bread with
cheese. Once its dark the proceedings
begin. NZ are hosting this year. We listen to an ANZAC army band play and sing
the songs of yesteryear, we watch documentaries and some interviews with
ANZACS. I sleep for about two or three
hours. I am toasty warm in my sleeping
bag and am glad that I didn’t put my thermal on before going to sleep. We are lucky this year as its unusually
warm. All I can think is, below me,
there is a soldier buried in an unmarked grave, and that I am here at the same
time they were, this is the weather that they had, this is the views that they
had, just marred by war. At midnight its
announced that its now the 25th of April and there is a message from
John Key. I finally feel ok to start
crying. It’s pretty moving. The history here is almost suffocating. The sky is clear, you can see the stars and
the moon. During the night a sailboat
comes into the cove, but it’s gone by morning.
During the night, there is a symphony, where they turn off all the
lights so that you can see the stars clearer.
This symphony is a work in progress.
It will be finished for the 100th anniversary. It has been contributed too by Turkish,
Australian’s and New Zealander’s.
At about 5am we get up and pack
up our gear and head down to the beach for the dawn service. It’s pretty moving, I quietly cry through
most of it. It’s very moving to hear the
letters from the front read out. We have
our photos taken at the wall when it’s over and then begin the trek to Chunuk
Bair.
This quote from Mustafa Ataturk
gets me every time. It epitomises the
situation and the day that we are here for.
‘Heroes who shed their blood and
lost their lives! You are now lying in the soil of a friendly country.
Therefore rest in peace. There is no difference between the Johnnies and
Mehmets to us where they lie side by side here in this country of ours. You,
the mothers, who sent their sons from far away countries wipe away your tears;
your sons are now lying in our bosom and are in peace. After having lost their
lives on this land they have become our sons as well.’
The trek is about 8kms in
total. And it’s pretty much straight up
hill. So at 6.30am with very little
sleep I am not really that enthusiastic about this. But as I walk it, I think, well I am carrying
a day pack, not a full military pack. I
am walking in peace, there is no one shooting me, and I remember the statistic
that for every yard gained, 3 men died. It
makes me feel a little sick to think of these men, none of whom wanted to kill
each other, giving up their lives for our freedom. I am grateful that in my lifetime my country
has not been to war.
I pass Lone Pine, where the
Aussies are having their service, and head past the Turkish memorial, and
finally make it to Chunuk Bair. We are early
enough to have seats on the grandstand, with a little shade. We are all hot and sticky. We watch the Aussie service on the big
screen, whilst chatting to those around us.
Our service begins with a Karakia and a number of officials are present
including Julia Gillard and our Minister of Veterans Affairs Nathan Guy.
Again there is not a dry eye in
the house when a letter from a soldier is read aloud. He lies in an unmarked grave somewhere
there. He is apologising to his wife if
he was ever short with her, or worked too hard and was not around but that he
did it for her and the kids. It’s a hard
thing to hear and the stories of what these men went through make me so
grateful for the life that I lead.
After the service we all head
back to the bus for a long wait and a ride back to Istanbul. It’s been a very emotional day and we have
been out in the sun for a long time. Even I am searching for shade. I am cried out for now. I think that it’s all gone very well and that
everyone involved in the organisation should be commended. Our adventure is coming to an end.
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