Thursday was very special. In Australia, April 25 is Anzac Day, one of the most important days on the Australia calendar, and a public holiday.

On Anzac Day we remember our war heroes, and include all those who have fought with the Australian services for our country and our allies, as well as those who are in our present military services. We pay tribute to those who have fought in many wars, major and minor, and who have served in various peace-keeping efforts throughout the world. The day originally paid tribute to the soldiers in World War 1 who died at Gallipoli, but its significance has now widened.

We planned to go to the Anzac Day Service at the War Memorial in a large park nearby. It had not been held in that location during the last few years, firstly due to Covid, then through some issues with public liability insurance.

The day dawned bright and clear, with perfect sunny Autumn weather. I wore the symbolic red poppy and rosemary and added a poppy to a bandana for Sunny to wear.

He knew what to expect this time. The previous day, Sunny and I were walking into the hospital grounds – he was to fulfil his morning service of being a therapy dog offering comfort to patients. We were met by a small group who had planned an early Anzac Service for hospital patients and visitors. They invited us (and our fellow worker with his dog) to be present at their service next to the Anzac memorial near the main entrance, and in so doing to represent the dogs, as well as horses and other animals, who had participated in war efforts. We were honoured to do so.

The other dog, Blondie, a large white Labrador, lay quietly at her owner’s feet throughout the service. Sunny remained sitting up, alert and watchful, always curious. He had never heard bagpipes before, so his ears pricked up each time they were played. The organisers were very impressed with the dogs, and invited us to come next year, when they would ensure that there were purple poppies (the appropriate colour for animal service) for the dogs.

It was very moving, and an honour to be present at their simple but meaningful service. One of those present was the Nursing Unit Manager of the Rehabilitation Ward, who implored us to bring our dogs to her ward for her patients, very few of whom were able to leave their rooms to be present at the Anzac Service. We did. That’s another beautiful story.

So, on Thursday morning we set out early for the main venue for the Anzac Day Service – and had difficulty finding a place to park, as there were so many already present. The bagpiper led a procession of several hundred in the Anzac Parade, including schoolchildren marching for those war veterans in their families, or for those now departed. More than a thousand were seated already.

I was surprised and pleased at the simple beauty of the service on this day of full blue sky and glorious sunshine. Programs were available for all.

When I was young, every Anzac Day Service included the hymn “Abide with Me” which has lyrics pertaining to God’s guidance in life and in death. As my father (a World War 2 veteran who lost his identical twin brother in battle) once said to me, “There are no atheists on the battlefields of war.” Everyone present was invited to join in the singing of this beautiful old hymn, with backing music provided – so full of meaning to many servicemen and women of times past. The Lord’s Prayer was also included, and the words were on the program – and everyone was invited to join in that as well.

Because of political correctness, neither of these is now usually included in present-day Anzac Day Services, or indeed at any public function. I cannot even remember the last time I heard “Abide with Me” sung in a public gathering.

The Christian tone was further enhanced by two or three other prayers, each of which spoke to God as Father, and the wording was deep, personal, and meaningful as they prayed for peace, individual, national and world-wide, as well as for God’s comfort to all who have suffered and continue to suffer because of war, injustice and other man-inflicted cruelties.

The trumpeter for the Last Post and the Rouse was a small eleven-year-old boy, who received special applause when acknowledged at the end. The New Zealand National Anthem was sung in Maori by a girl at the school where I used to teach. Rarely have I heard a more beautiful and powerful voice. Then the Australian anthem followed, and that too was led by another schoolgirl with a lovely voice, and we all joined in. It was very moving, as we sang together “Australians all, let us rejoice, for we are one and free …”

Who were the organisers? There were representatives from all three levels of government (Local Council, and State and Federal Governments, and yes, of different political leanings, but working in unity for this occasion) along with members of the local Historical Society and others.

I am sure that within their midst there was at least one Christian person who was not afraid to stand up for what used to be two of the most meaningful spiritual helps to those facing the terror and grief of war service: the hymn “Abide with Me” and the Lord’s Prayer. The ripple effect of that witness? Who knows how many may have been helped or encouraged to seek the Lord for their present lives by either or both of those.

And the role of the Historical Society? When World War 1 broke out, this place was just a small village, yet forty-nine young men went to war to serve their country. Their names are recorded on the Memorial. Members of the Historical Society researched their names and family stories and put on a display of these, with photos, in the nearby Memorial Hall. We were all invited to go there after the service to check out these stories. They also served Anzac Biscuits along with tea and coffee. All free.

There was obviously so much preparation to make this event a wonderful success. I am sure that everyone present was challenged and uplifted by the morning. 

Interestingly, in recent years there has been a huge resurgence of interest and participation in both Anzac Day and Remembrance Day services, particularly among our young people and children, which is very pleasing to see. This adds meaning to the concluding words of each service: "Lest we forget!"

And Sunny? He lay at my feet, or on my knee, behaving perfectly for the whole time. His reward? He found a dropped sausage on the ground afterwards. Anzac Day Services are often followed by the traditional Australian “sausage sizzle” where people (and dogs) mingle, enjoying a relaxed lunch after the service, sitting at picnic tables in the sunshine.

His next similar event will be Remembrance Day on November 11, where he will again wear a poppy and represent the loyalty and courage of service dogs both past and present.

Yes, last Thursday was very special.