ANZAC Day 2016

Found in: All Schools

As a school we have been honouring the many service men and women who have sacrificed so much to give us the freedom we now take for granted.

The Year 6 students represented the school at the Combined Schools ANZAC Service on Wednesday 6 April. The Junior School Student Council Representatives Xavier Bull and Lucy Porter laid a wreath on behalf of the school community. In addition, Taylor Racey and Louise Van Der Vyver were invited to read poems they had writing in Extension writing about the meaning of ANZAC.

On Sunday, 24 April the Police Cadets participated in the night vigil at Ellenbrook Open Space. They guarded the flags overnight and then participated in the wreath laying ceremony at the dawn service on ANZAC Day. Taylor Racey and Louise Van Der Vyver were again asked to recite their poems. It was a moving service and one in which our students' commitment and integrity shone through.

The School marked ANZAC Day with a special service presented by the School leaders. Bronty Fraser sang a version of 'And the Band Played Waltzing Matilda', whilst Lucy Porter and Abigail Davies read their ANZAC poems. At the end of the service the official party laid the wreaths at the base of the flagpoles in where a separate ceremony.  Our thanks go to Dylan Carpenter who visited the school to play the Last Post and Reveille, adding to the emotion of the occasion.

Mrs Suzanne Stewart
Associate Principal Junior School/ Dean of Curriculum

Year 6 ANZAC Day Poems


ANZAC Day

In every Australian heart
We know and cherish the soldiers slain
In a war where nothing but blood shall be gained
When the widowed wives and mourning mothers wore black
When you enter this painful war you can't go back
Our eyes stained with tears for this is freedom's price
But what happens when soldiers die
When they do not win, but they surrender
We grovel at mindless murder yet glorify victory
Victory, for her name is stained by our enemy's soldiers blood
Kill or be killed is the law of war
They say the proof that we are a nation lies in the graves of our army
They died because of glorified bravery
But they fought for our freedom
The apple in the garden of ethereal Eden
To kill one more army
That had no choice
To use the one thing that would stop us from winning
Death, the silhouette guides their movement
To witness the horror of this celebrated war
To those who think of them with splendid grandeur
Gallipoli is a nightmare that we don't want to forget

That is the true meaning of ANZAC Day.

Louise Van der Vyver (Year 6)


Close your eyes and picture this...

Close your eyes and picture this,
The year is 1915.
Young, innocent men, sailing the seas on the way to Gallipoli, excited for what awaits them there.
The closer they get to shore, the higher doubt and fear raise their ugly heads in the minds of each and every soldier.
They are the ANZACS.
Upon disembarking, BANG!!! Their faces going as white as a sheet when they hear the first gun shot and the heart-wrenching scream that follows.
Their legs turning to jelly as they start to comprehend that they may never see their families again.
Their fingers fumbling on the gun, ready to take fire but their minds willing them not to.
The sight of their mates falling to the ground, dead, like leaves falling off a tree.
Suddenly, a burst of energy flows through them wanting revenge for what the enemy soldiers had done.
A loud shot pierces the air
Finally having the courage to pull the trigger, men charge, infused with a sudden burst of anger.
The battle field explodes into chaos with men running around as if possessed,
Many falling to the ground per second, never to speak again.
And then…
Silence. Not a sound to be heard as the very few survivors take in their surroundings.
Blood stains the floor like paint,
Bodies litter the battlefield,
The ground is broken up as if an earthquake has ripped through it
But even though their surroundings are devastating,
Their hearts filling with sorrow, knowing that their good friends, those who lost their lives to bring us freedom and peace, will never see the light of day again
Even through all of this, men rush to one another and embrace.
Chatting away like old friends, strangers have found peace knowing that they no longer have to fight.
Finally this senseless war is over!
We must always remember these brave courageous ANZAC’s who went out into the unknown, fought with many ending up dead, for our liberty.

Taylor Racey (Year 6)


The ANZACs

Only 102 years ago,
War was declared.
Those young men had no idea what they had signed up for.
The soldiers waved goodbye to their loved ones;
Those family members they may never see again.
Faces turned white as they headed out for battle.
This was not training this was real!
The sound of the first gun shot was deafening.
The soldiers ran to find somewhere to hide.
More and more bodies fell to the ground,
And more and more blood was shed;
Lives flashed before eyes!
One minute alive the next minute screaming in pain on the ground.

The place known as Gallipoli was the place of death and destruction.
Young men faked their age to fight in this war. But why?
Because they wanted to be brave and have loved ones be proud of them.
Because they wanted to fight for their country.

After 4 long years war was over.
Lives were lost, families torn apart.
And the world was changed forever.
All over the battlefield were bright red poppies,
The first flowers to bloom on the battlefields of WW1.
These poppies remain symbolic of the brave ANZACs.
The survivors and the dead; the soldiers and their families.
The suffering and the hope,
This is the spirit of the ANZACS.

Lucy Porter (Year 6)


Wartime through a young ANZAC’s perspective . . .

I leave my mum’s arms and walk up the ramp onto the boat.
Hugging her would probably be the last thing I ever remember of her or anyone in Australia.
I take my place on the big ship for the start of the journey. I stand up proud and brave.
I catch sight of my mum’s beautiful, pale face and violent red lips,
A memory I will hold onto forever and cherish even if I don’t make it back.
The boat slowly pulls out of the wharf. I wave at my mum until she is just a tiny speck on the crumbling horizon.
This is it, I am going into the unknown!
At first it seems like a dream; it is something I have been planning for ages.
But now for some reason, all I can think about is the sound of a single gunshot.
It keeps ringing through my head like blood keeps dripping when a soldier is shot.
How do I know about this and what it feels like, when I haven’t even been to war?
Is this how all the other soldiers feel?
Some people say I’m crazy. Why would I lie about my age to sign up for a war?
But some people say I’m passionate and patriotic, standing up for my country’s peace and freedom.
Sometimes though I think what have I set myself up for? Misery, a broken heart, or worse still - death?
But why is everyone scared of death? Death is better than his two friends wounded and sick!
Death isn’t a bad thing and no one should run away from it.
I am sitting here along and afraid for what feels like eternity.
I am thinking about my mother and, all the things she has done for me.
I can’t get the memories out of my head no matter how hard I try. It’s like trying to run away from your shadow, it is impossible!
And then I think about how my father had hoped to fight in this war for his country.
He died of dysentery before he had a chance.
I’m doing this for him. I will fight to make him proud and hope that as he watches me he will send me positive energy.
The days seem to roll on forever on the ship. They just keep going and going.
Every second feels like a minute and every minute, an hour.
Until I hear the horn blow on the ship!
It rumbles from the tip of the bow all the way to the stern.
All the men are pouring out of their holes like thousands of ants, and mount the stairs to the top deck.
“We’re here!”
But the sight of the battlefield, of its dead yellow grass and miles of nothing, they have slumped back down again!
We are once again back in our cold, dark minds
This is Gallipoli, a miserable place to be!
I’m the one though who spots the poppy. The single flower standing there with nothing but yellow surrounding it. Suffocating it even.
But since it stands there alone without help, I know that there is hope.
Hope that I might survive, hope for everyone.
That single poppy standing alone on the hill must be a sign from my father.
Hope will keep us battling.
This is the price we’ll pay if it means freedom and peace.
Each and every poppy in Gallipoli symbolises a drop of blood.
For every drop of blood is a very brave soldier; slain in a war so cruel and cunning.
Yet still our hearts are set on freedom.
And that is what we shall gain.
That is the true spirit of ANZAC.

Abigail Davies (Year 6)

 

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