Wednesday April 25th
I didn't enjoy history at school. I didn't appreciate it at all and spent the last two years winding the teacher's pocket watch forward so he would let the class out early. He used to take it out of his pocket and leave it on the desk. It worked a treat and he never suspected a thing because I looked so goody-goody.
The problem is, my knowledge of history is a now a bit shaky. Today is Anzac Day, a public holiday across Australia marking the landing of Australian troops at Gallipoli. Anzac stands for Australia and New Zealand Air Corps. They were sent into battle by the British. The situation was hopeless, they suffered heavy losses and never really forgave the Brits for sending them in there.
The Anzac biscuit is a chewy, oaty, golden-syrup biscuit. Proceeds from selling them used to go to widows of the Gallipoli troops, I think. Anyway, we bought some from Coles in Cessnock this afternnon and had them after dinner while the rest of Australia wept openly at their cenotaphs. Even the younger generations turn out for the last post. It's all very moving. We don't honour our war dead in Britain. We should.
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