Ok, you're sorted so i'll mark this thread as solved.
Remembrance Day is acknowledged here and the obligatory 1 min silence at '11th hour, 11th day, 11th month' is observed mostly, but 11th Nov is not the big deal in AU/NZ like Anzac Day is. Quite frankly it's afforded wider reverence that any other Holy Day. It's also a gazetted National public holiday. Seems strange to some that a catastrophic defeat should be remembered and revered as 'birth of national identity' when it was a doomed campaign from the onset. The first wave of troops landed in pre-dawn darkness on a narrow beach backed by cliffs with ridges on the high ground which was quickly reinforced by the Turks and fiercely defended. By a crucial error, it wasn't the intended assault point but well over a kilometre to the north of Gaba Tepe, simply because of water currents not accounted for by the British planners. Quite frankly it should have been abandoned immediately but there was no 'Plan B' and the subsequent landings came under withering Turkish fire. Even though the Turks only had 'Anzac Cove' lightly defended, rightly no doubt their thinking being that a landing there would be downright stupid, they were quickly able to shore up defences on the high ground. That fast action by the Turks, the confusion caused by mixing of units, the unfamiliar geography, unforgiving topography all combining to make effective advance impossible. Once that happened any attempt at withdrawal without careful planing and execution would have guaranteed complete annihilation for the Anzacs who were then forced to dig in as best they could. Other countries celebrate the end of 'The Great War'/'The War to End All Wars' whereas we and our Kiwi cousins choose to, perhaps perversely, highlight and remember a resounding defeat which took the lives of so many brave men on both sides, mostly the youthful cream of their countries. Three modern vibrant countries, Australia, New Zealand and Turkey all can trace their true modern roots and identities back to the Dardanelles campaign and in particular the common disaster of Anzac Cove. Combined casualties on both sides was around half a million with about 100,000 dead for Galipolli as a whole. British high command thought the Turks would be ill-prepared with their training, equipment and defences archaic. They weren't. "Johnny Turk he was waiting, He'd primed himself well":
The Progues did an interesting cover of that, as have many others. As a Scot, manninagh, albeit with a Manx sounding username you'd probably be aware that Eric Bogle hailed from Peebles. He emigated to Oz in 1969 aged around 25 and he wrote that incredibly sensitive and intrinsically Australian song only 2 years later in 1971 [i reckon he assimilated pretty well into AU society, hey?]. His first public performance of it was in 1974 at the National Folk Festival in my hometown. It was very well received by the audience and there was muted but widespread outrage that he didn't win and to this day there's still local debate around that decision by the competition's judges. A year later John Currie released the first official recording of it, followed year after year by other increasingly more famous artists. Bogle himself didn't release a recording of it for almost a decade strangely. He uses the old expression 'waltzing matilda' correctly in context. Much misunderstood by outsiders and new arrivals alike, the seemingly strange expression simply means to carry on your back 'matilda' which is a 'swag', a bedroll containing a few light possessions, while travelling around looking for work, hence the term swagman or swaggie. Towards the start of the first verse 'Now when I was a young man, I carried me pack, and I lived the free life of a rover. From the Murray's green basin to the dusty outback, well I waltzed my matilda all over', and later, 'For I'll go no more waltzing matilda, all around the green bush far and free, To hump tent and pegs, a man needs both legs - no more waltzing matilda for me.'.
Sometimes i feel a tiny twinge of guilt for my many OTs. Not this time. I like the Progues, not only because of their 'celtic-folk flavoured' cover of 'Matilda' nor even just for their music generally but because their name originally was Pogue Mahone being an anglicising of the irreverent Irish Gaelic expression 'póg mo thóin'. Anyone who objects to this particular OT can póg mo thóin ... so there!
'Some day no one will march there at all'. No original Anzacs now of course, Eric always had to be right about that of course but every year the marches get bigger and the Dawn Services are better attended..... Lest we forget.
PS: To tell the truth, i haven't eaten meat for over 30 years. No haggis has seen the inside of my oven ever anyway, and a haunch of Belted Galloway would only be fed to the cat bit by bit. I do eat fish though, so a couple of tins of herrings will be fine.