Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn

A century ago, unknown to those in the trenches or their loved ones back home, victory in the war to end all wars was a little more than six months away. But before it could be achieved, thousands more Australian lives would be lost, defeats endured and historic battles won. The courage of our Diggers in battle and the ingenuity of our military leadership would be etched forever in the annals of military history and the collective memories of French villages. At home, the pride, loss and gratitude invested in those who served and those who never returned would become an enduring part of our nation’s genetic code, ceremonies and evolving culture. One hundred years ago today, our nation would mark its third Anzac Day with more than a third of all the men aged between 18 and 44 enlisted for war in Europe. From a national population of about 4.9 million — less than Sydney’s today — more than 416,000 served and 60,284 were killed while 155,133 were wounded in action. The numbers expose the magnitude of our offering and explain the deepness of the scars. But it is the deeds of these men, in drawn-out defeats, extraordinary victories and ultimate triumph, that helped shape the course of history and created a legacy worthy of a permanent place in our national character.

Exactly three years after the Anzac forces landed at Gallipoli in a long and ultimately futile attempt to overcome the Turks, our soldiers undertook an audacious, ruthless and brilliant raid to reclaim Villers-Bretonneux from the Germans. Launched late in the evening of April 24, 1918, the counter-attack by the Australian 13th and 15th brigades encircled the village and, with support from British forces, Villers-Bretonneux was returned to its French inhabitants under Allied control hours later on that third Anzac Day. A turning point in the war, it blunted the German offensive and foreshadowed coming heroics. First-hand accounts ensure that down the ages we do not forget the bravery or brutality required to win such victories in hand-to-hand combat in the dead of night against a foe with tanks and machineguns. Letters from Sergeant Jimmy Downing revealed the horror as he and his fellow Australians attacked: “bayonets passed with ease through grey-clad bodies and were withdrawn with a sucking noise … one saw running forms in the dark, trying to escape, only to be stabbed or shot down as they ran … we were berserk, every one of us, there was no quarter. I remember bayoneting one Hun, a square fair solid fellow. The bayonet passed right through his heart … the killing went on. There was blood all over my rifle & bayonet & hands and all. Dawn broke & we started sniping & got many more Huns. We were sick of the killing.” The commander of 15th brigade, Major General Harold “Pompey” Elliott, described how his men perfected the “throat jab … under the chin and into the spinal cord” so the enemy could be killed “easily, quickly and painlessly, often without a cry”. At Villers-Bretonneux, across months of attacks and counter-attacks, 2473 Australians were killed, more than 9000 British, 3500 French and up to 10,000 Germans. Ours is not to glorify such terror but to recognise the bravery and sacrifice, and not pretend that war is anything but a horrific obscenity to be avoided except when necessary to defend our freedom and values.

Having endured and succeeded in such battlefield trials, our soldiers were soon to come under the command of a fellow countryman for the first time the following month when John Monash was promoted to lieutenant general and appointed corps commander of the Australian forces. By July, at the Battle of Hamel, Monash had the Germans on the back foot and on August 8, in the Battle of Amiens, he helped deliver what some called Germany’s blackest day of the war. Four days later Monash was knighted in the battlefield by King George V before the Allied offensive across the Western Front accelerated and victory — and peace — finally was within reach. Despite these victories and the greater Australian heft, loss of life and strategic impact on the Western Front, it had long been the forgotten aspect of the Anzac legend, a saga of valour, blood, innovation and independence always overshadowed by the original, defiant and temporary foothold at Gallipoli. Such is the unpredictability of history and of national culture — events that most capture the public imagination cannot always be predicted and the episodes that shape our national character cannot be prescribed. Nonetheless, there have been longstanding and worthwhile efforts by many in recent decades to ensure the balance of our World War I contribution is properly reflected in the nation’s history and ceremony. This year, commemorating the centenary of key victories and the end of the war, it is only fitting that the balance properly has been achieved on a date coincidentally shared.

The opening of the Sir John Monash Centre is not just a symbolic but also a pragmatic way to mark this occasion and honour one of the greatest Australians because it remembers a tragic and proud history while ensuring future generations can learn about the deeds and keep alive the spirit of the Anzacs. Opened by Malcolm Turnbull, the centre exists thanks in large part to the determination of former prime minister Tony Abbott, graciously invited to the opening by his successor. The beautifully designed $99 million interactive museum melds into the landscape, physically subservient to the existing memorial and cemetery — even completing some aspects of its original design — yet overlooking at its northeastern end the valley of the Somme River, scene of many terrible battles and crucial victories that came after the heroics of Villers-Bretonneux. Visitors from all nations will enter the displays at one end, learn about the wartime contribution of Australian soldiers and General Sir John Monash, and exit the building into the light so they can gaze out over those lands, now nestling in a peace delivered, in part, by antipodean blood. It will be the scene of many an Australian pilgrimage for generations to come and we doubt those visitors will ever ignore the older commemorations in the village, dating from soon after the war, where the French — along with Australian survivors — ensured that through schools, memorials and street signs the Australians would never be forgotten.

What few could have believed 100 years ago is what followed that Great War. As Scottish-Australian songwriter Eric Bogle laments in his song No Man’s Land, it’s “all happened again and again and again and again and again”. So today veterans from World War II, Korea, Vietnam, Iraq and Afghanistan will march and be remembered, as will men and women who have served in other theatres and in a wide variety of roles with all our services. It is a unique occasion that unites the nation in respect, allows us to give thanks, and gives us pause to reflect on the freedoms and values that are the core of our nation, and how we must fight to protect and enhance what we have forged. In that spirit it is fitting, as suggested by former defence minister and now War Memorial director Brendan Nelson, that personnel involved in Operation Sovereign Borders be accorded due recognition and commemoration. This is a day to honour service of the nation. It is not a day for attention seekers, radical activists or partisan pointscorers to leverage the legacy of the Anzacs for their own causes. Let us leave it for another day to address their concerns.

We should care for contemporary veterans and tackle issues with integration into post-service life that culminate in alarming levels of self-harm. Above all, we must nurture and strengthen our national ideals by recalling the extraordinary actions of those who have defended them.

Sir John Monash reflected on our soldiers’ attributes and defended their sense of discipline, noting it did not mean “lip service, nor obsequious homage to superiors, nor servile observance of forms and customs, nor a suppression of individuality”. He put their bravery down to comradeship, traditions and a “combative spirit” to avenge hardships upon their enemies. We will remember them.