Gallipoli

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Okay. No matter what I say about this stop on my travels, I'm not going to do it justice. But I guess I have to try! This blog will be a big longer than my usual summary for those who wanted lots of details... So sorry to those with less interest and time.

We arrived and took the ferry across to Carnakkale (and Europe!) at around 7am on 24 April. The weather was clear and sunny, though cold, which seemed slightly surreal considering the reason we were here.

Our group of 24 (Aussies, Kiwis and one sole American) were lucky enough to pick up a fantastic guide who is passionate about the area and the history to take us around the Gallipoli penninsula for several hours on the morning of the 24th, the day before the ANZAC services.

Starting off with an overview of the area, I realised just how small the fronts were here. Just a few km's of front, where so much fighting and history happened. Going up and standing in the Aussie trenches and looking into the Turkish trenches just a few metres away was very sobering. The road up to Lone Pine is now along the line where the front was - just the width of a two lane road was all that separated the two sides. And hearing the stories of how they threw food to each other to trade for something different to their normal rations, sentries swapping cigarettes during ceasefires and the balance between enemies and those with so much in common, is very overwhelming to process.

Lone Pine cemetary and the Turkish Memorial for the 57th Regiment, along with other cemetaries along the way, are all moving in their own way. Just when you start getting to grips with the emotions one place brings, another starts it all again. Seeing the beaches they landed on, I was shocked at how small they were, before they hit the land and the Turkish guns.

And then Chunuk Bair, the site of such Kiwi bravery and futile effort. As they say, the Kiwis took days to take it and hold it, and then the English lost in a few minutes... It's so incredibly sad, while really bringing out that sense of nationhood and patriotism and pride in our small country that gave so much... On this sunny, sparkly day, it is hard to imagine the struggle, conditions and pain that took place here over those months. But then somehow it isn't difficult at all.

All the sites here are so wonderfully looked after. Hearing reports on the NZ news in the past about how the place was being ruined and dug up and the history disregarded is all rubbish. Yes, this is a sacred site for ANZAC's, but it is just as much so for the Turks. They lost such huge numbers of men here, and also have this as a place where they came into nationhood. We are privileged that they choose to share it with us. Reading Attaturk's famous words about how those who fought and died here were now sons of their nation, we couldn't help but stand and think and mourn but also feel a part of this wonderful place.

I hadn't realised that Attaturk himself was a commander here, and instrumental in the battles that took place. On Chunuk Bair there is both a Kiwi memorial as well as a Turkish one, showing the importance that this place has to more nations than just our small one.

While on Chunuk Bair, my roomie Tania called out for all us Kiwis to get together for a photo, and was overheard by Mark Chrysell who's the TVNZ European correspondent, in Gallipolli to cover ANZAC day who was scoping out Chunuk Bair for his stuff. He chatted to us and invited us to come along and be interviewed live that night to coincide with Breakfast on TV One. I could have said it was because we were such great people and beacons of Kiwi-ness that we were spotted, but it was simply right place, right time!

After over four hours of mindbending stuff here, we travelled down to the township and set up our tents n the beach (conveniently next to the Boomerang Bar) ready for when we came back on ANZAC day afternoon. A wander through the township showed just how set up they were for the thousands of Kiwis and Aussies - souvenirs everywhere on the crowded streets. It was more unusual to hear a Turkish voice than an Oz or Kiwi accent!

After dinner that night we set off to ANZAC cove for the overnight vigil. Tthere were proper searches before entry to the area of both people and bags to check for alcohol, explosives, sharp stuff and other dangerous items. But then we got a goody bag of Order of Services (in both Turkish and English), poncho, rubbish bag and other stuff once we'd passed the dangerous person test. They take security seriously - we'd seen the snipers and other army stuff getting ready for the ceremonies while were were going around during the day. Arriving at 8pm the grass areas were already full - people arrived to queue up before the area opened at 3pm... But a good spot on the stands waited for us and after settling in, us five Kiwis headed off to be picked up for our big moment.

Remember how I said it was sunny and sparkly during the day? Well, the weather changed to a more appropriate setting for such a sober event. At this point it was freezing, with a chill wind and the prospect of more. Huddling in the van on Chunuk Bair (and seeing Judy Bailey - wow! Highlight for Kiwis away from home) and then waiting out in the wind for our start time at 10.10pm Turkish time was chiling in more ways than one. Man, it's really, really, really cold here. I understand our interview showed how cold it was, but try spending all night on an overnight bus not sleeping, taking in emotional sites all day then hang around somewhere so freezing cold for a few hours and see how eloquent you would be... I'm just glad I didn't have to see myself being played and replayed on TV!

Overnight at ANZAC cove while we were waiting for dawn there were various bits of documentaries and live interviews to keep everyone focused, since most people weren't in a spot where we could sleep. Though sitting in sleeping bags was necessary to keep ourselves as warm as possible. The attempt at a mexican wave was soundly squashed by the (slightly grumpy) MC. So we just waited for dawn.

Just prior to dawn the screens went dark and the sound of the beach was carried over the loudspeakers. So sobering, moving and chilling all at once. With dawn came the service, with Judy Baily as the MC - and she was as great as she always is. Winston Peters was the Kiwi speaker, and while I don't really like him normally (apologies to those fans out there) I have to admit he did a good job. Tears were almost obligatory given the emotion that was about, and I would be surprised if there were many dry eyes in the crowd. The national anthems are always moving, and you can imagine the last post... Wow.

After the ceremony, us five Kiwis were lucky enough to get a ride with the Army band up to Chunuk Bair ready for the Kiwi Service, as one of our number is actually in the band and his wife is in the Territorial band. Sweet. Cheers Mike and Cath! We had decided not to try to get to the Aussie service on the way as we could watch it from the big screen on Chunuk Bair and also get a good spot to watch our own.

I have to admit that as we had a spot on the grass at Chunuk Bair, after watching the Aussie service we napped during the Turkish one (along with a lot of the other Kiwi's there), but were woken up suddenly when the band began to play at noon before the 12.30 service - whew, I've never stood up in a sleeping bag so fast!

The Kiwi Service was everything you would expect it to be. It was much more intimate and personal than the Dawn Service. Hearing Winston talk about the young people our own age going off to Gallipoli, hearing the waiata, singing Po Atarau and then the ANZAC hymn that was written just last year with it's totally heartrending words.. I can't describe it but suffice to say that of an emotional day, this was the most moving.

Waiting for our bus afterwards was, while somewhat of an anticlimax, a time to appreciate again the huge numbers of people there. Basically you all stand along the roadside either outside lone pine if you were at the Aussie Service or outside the Chunuk Bair memorial site if you were at the Kiwi one, and wait for your coach to come along and quickly jump in it. To try to explain the scale, we waited about an hour til our bus came past at 2.30ish, but there were km's and km's of coaches after us, and some people didn't get their ride til dinnertime. 10,000 people in one small place. Madness. And they say there will be 100,000 people there for the 100th anniversary. I can't imagine how they are going to work the logistics of that one.

After a necessary wee nap in our tents that arvo (2 hrs sleep in 60 hrs is not enough), and all the while the tent was trying to blow away in the extremely strong wind, it was time for drinks and toasts to the gallant ANZACs. What an incredible experience. I'm still trying to process it all, but I think it's one of those times you just have to accept what you see and feel and not try to master the rest.

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