By Bonny Burrows
Under the pitter-patter of constant rain, the Berwick community huddled around the town’s cenotaph.
Residents, war veterans, politicians and students all came together on 25 April with one purpose:
“On this day, above all days, we remember those Australian men and women who died or suffered in the great tragedy of war.”
Berwick’s Anzac Day 2017 was a touching affair and one that stirred up many emotions.
Local community groups, politicians and schoolchildren all laid wreaths as part of the service, pausing as they did so to take a moment to reflect.
And in a last-minute change of speakers, Vietnam veteran Ray Heathcote spoke of the tragedy of war and the significant losses his family had experienced on the battlefield.
He was one of the lucky ones, he said.
His grandfather was gassed in WWI, paying the ultimate price for the freedom of his country and one of many to do so.
This was why Anzac Day was important.
“We gather to acknowledge those who paid the ultimate price for those things we take for granted today,” Mr Heathcote said.
Standing in the pouring rain, the weight of his sombre speech fell heavy on those in attendance.
Many were impressed by Mr Heathcote’s honesty, leaving the service with a greater appreciation for our war heroes.
In particular, former Star News journalist Jim Mynard walked away inspired to put pen to paper.
In Mr Heathcote’s honour he wrote the following poem, which perhaps sums up Berwick’s commemoration service perfectly:
Old soldiers march.
Out of step in pelting rain on Berwick Streets.
Heading for the cenotaph.
Some are old and some are young.
Men and women march abreast because they served as one.
Each with thoughts a thousandfold.
Each with reason to be marching in the pelting rain on Berwick streets.
Through a crowd of hundreds strong.
Applauding all as one, yet to each alone.
There in pelting rain on Berwick streets.
To say no more than thanks.
To hear the Ode, Abide With Me, anthems, then God Save the Queen.
And the moving Heathcote speech.
In words of memories; lest we forget those who know no pelting rain, who will not march on Berwick streets.
Neither hear Reveille nor
The Last Post.
For more pictures see page 47.
