Australian retired major Robert Freebairn, his jacket festooned with medals, looks out across the sands of Gallipoli at the rising sun and thinks of his great uncle charging into Ottoman lines as a member of the Anzac regiments 100 years ago.
He was one of over 620 Australians believed to have died on the first day alone of a months-long campaign, on what Australians and New Zealanders now commemorate as Anzac Day in recognition of the sacrifice of their forefathers.
Thousands of Australians and New Zealanders have descended on the Gallipoli peninsula on the western edge of modern day Turkey to remember the fallen on the centenary but also to celebrate how the stunningly beautiful region has become a symbol of reconciliation between former foes.
"For me it is very moving. We came here to honour the service of my great uncle Walter who was killed on Anzac Day, on the first day of the fighting," Freebairn said.
"He was an engineer but was lost to the family for a long while; we only found out about him two years ago. We have now been able to honour him after all these years."
But like many Australians, he takes pride in the message of 1934 for former Anzac foes from one of the Ottoman commanders at Gallipoli and later the founder of the modern Turkish Republic -- Mustafa Kemal Ataturk.
"The mothers who sent their sons from faraway countries, wipe away your tears; your sons are now lying in our bosom and are in peace," Ataturk said at the time.
Freebairn said a "a great mutual respect" was born out of the fighting which in itself "tells you that it should not have been necessary in the first place."
Lisa Clarko says she takes her children to see the statue of Ataturk in the western Australian town of Albany and is moved to tears by the spirit of reconciliation in Ataturk's message.
"They ask me 'mum who are you crying?'" said Clarko, an art teacher whose ancestors died in on both the Western and Gallipoli fronts.
"Everyone knows that no-one wins a war. This warmth between Turks and Australians has come down through the years," she said.
- 'Waste and loss' -
Today the Gallipoli peninsula is dotted with monuments and cemeteries for all the protagonists in the conflict, with tens of thousands taking their final resting place here irrespective of nationality.
But for all the sense of pride and reconciliation there remains a sharp poignancy about the tens of thousands of young men on both sides who surrendered their lives for the sake of a campaign that was to achieve next to zero.
Around 11,500 Anzac soldiers lost their lives in the campaign.
"Gallipoli symbolises too, the pity of war," said New Zealand Premier John Key at a speech to the traditional Dawn Service which marks the moment when the Anzac attack was launched on April 25, 1915.
"While this was a place of courage and heroism and duty, it was also a place of fear and waste and loss," he said.
Gallipoli has for long been a focal point for Australians and New Zealanders seeking to rediscover the Anzac spirit, with thousands visiting every year and in particular on Anzac Day.
Turkish souvenir sellers happily offer New Zealand and Australian flags to all comers and, some grumbling about hiked-up beer prices aside, the visitors could not be more enthusiastic about their welcome.
Some Turks are happy to take part in the remembrance services, also thinking back to the morning on April 25, 1915 when the Ottoman troops made their final prayers, ritual ablutions in expectation of imminent death and readied to ward off the attack.
"It's really moving to see the Australians and New Zealanders here," said Sedat Guler, a student who had travelled from Istanbul to witness the occasion, his face wrapped in a New Zealand scarf against the dawn chill.
"What they feel here, we feel and we came to share these emotions."
Australian retired major Robert Freebairn, his jacket festooned with medals, looks out across the sands of Gallipoli at the rising sun and thinks of his great uncle charging into Ottoman lines as a member of the Anzac regiments 100 years ago.
He was one of over 620 Australians believed to have died on the first day alone of a months-long campaign, on what Australians and New Zealanders now commemorate as Anzac Day in recognition of the sacrifice of their forefathers.
Thousands of Australians and New Zealanders have descended on the Gallipoli peninsula on the western edge of modern day Turkey to remember the fallen on the centenary but also to celebrate how the stunningly beautiful region has become a symbol of reconciliation between former foes.
“For me it is very moving. We came here to honour the service of my great uncle Walter who was killed on Anzac Day, on the first day of the fighting,” Freebairn said.
“He was an engineer but was lost to the family for a long while; we only found out about him two years ago. We have now been able to honour him after all these years.”
But like many Australians, he takes pride in the message of 1934 for former Anzac foes from one of the Ottoman commanders at Gallipoli and later the founder of the modern Turkish Republic — Mustafa Kemal Ataturk.
“The mothers who sent their sons from faraway countries, wipe away your tears; your sons are now lying in our bosom and are in peace,” Ataturk said at the time.
Freebairn said a “a great mutual respect” was born out of the fighting which in itself “tells you that it should not have been necessary in the first place.”
Lisa Clarko says she takes her children to see the statue of Ataturk in the western Australian town of Albany and is moved to tears by the spirit of reconciliation in Ataturk’s message.
“They ask me ‘mum who are you crying?'” said Clarko, an art teacher whose ancestors died in on both the Western and Gallipoli fronts.
“Everyone knows that no-one wins a war. This warmth between Turks and Australians has come down through the years,” she said.
– ‘Waste and loss’ –
Today the Gallipoli peninsula is dotted with monuments and cemeteries for all the protagonists in the conflict, with tens of thousands taking their final resting place here irrespective of nationality.
But for all the sense of pride and reconciliation there remains a sharp poignancy about the tens of thousands of young men on both sides who surrendered their lives for the sake of a campaign that was to achieve next to zero.
Around 11,500 Anzac soldiers lost their lives in the campaign.
“Gallipoli symbolises too, the pity of war,” said New Zealand Premier John Key at a speech to the traditional Dawn Service which marks the moment when the Anzac attack was launched on April 25, 1915.
“While this was a place of courage and heroism and duty, it was also a place of fear and waste and loss,” he said.
Gallipoli has for long been a focal point for Australians and New Zealanders seeking to rediscover the Anzac spirit, with thousands visiting every year and in particular on Anzac Day.
Turkish souvenir sellers happily offer New Zealand and Australian flags to all comers and, some grumbling about hiked-up beer prices aside, the visitors could not be more enthusiastic about their welcome.
Some Turks are happy to take part in the remembrance services, also thinking back to the morning on April 25, 1915 when the Ottoman troops made their final prayers, ritual ablutions in expectation of imminent death and readied to ward off the attack.
“It’s really moving to see the Australians and New Zealanders here,” said Sedat Guler, a student who had travelled from Istanbul to witness the occasion, his face wrapped in a New Zealand scarf against the dawn chill.
“What they feel here, we feel and we came to share these emotions.”
