Why I remember

Today is Remembrance Day.

It is a day for all of us to reflect on the sacrifices made to defend Australia.

I joined the Army as a 23-year-old. Like most that age, I was driven by idealism and of something grand and glorious.

Life always turns out different that our imagining. I learned that service always leaves scars.

I don’t think that’s any different for any life of service, but there are certain scars unique to veterans.

They are sometimes visible, but mostly invisible. They are often carried by families too.

But the scars, the ridges of a life spent in service of something greater, can also provide their own strength.

There is strength in the camaraderie among those who know what its like to be petrified for your own life, and for that life to be in the hands of others. I know that whatever I give back, it is only a fraction of what has been given to me.

When I was president of the RSL, I travelled a lot around NSW. One of the most poignant conversations I had was with a former Army Sergeant in a small town in Western NSW. He had been a tunnel rat and it takes a particular kind of courage to go into a small hole, not knowing what you will find.

He had made a lifelong commitment to pay back those men who had served under his command, who had shown that level of courage themselves, making sure that he looked after their families, long after they were gone. Even in his 80s, he was paying back.

The scars bring with them lessons for life that in their own way guide you.

When I deployed to Iraq in 2005, I took with me soldiers who had never left Australia before. We spent six months scanning the roads and overpasses, engaging with locals, being prepared at a moment’s notice to fight, but all the while making sure that we could talk and be accessible even when danger surrounded you. We had kept our moral bearings despite the pressures not to.

We learned also how to keep working even as the world around us seemed to be fracturing.

I remember when my troop lost one of our number in a training accident in Townsville.

I remember telling them in the morning, that we would need to attend his funeral. I remember saying take the time to reflect, to think about his life, and then we will get back to work. I felt a pride I couldn’t explain, watching my troop on that terrible day continuing to train, getting on with the job, and continuing to be focused on the mission at hand. That takes a special type of courage. It’s what we all face at some time in life. The courage to withstand the blow and to keep moving.

Today, I am thinking of one of the bravest people I have ever met in my life. Colonel Zelwar, a policeman who worked for the Afghan Government, in a province to the north of Kabul. His name literally translated as “the brave”.

This was a man who went to work every day, leading his team, trying to police a region in which insurgents and armies were raging back and forth, knowing every day that there was a price on his head. And I asked him why he did it. And he said to me, “because if I don’t, no one else will.” He was prepared to serve; no matter the cost.

Australia is a wonderful country and our freedoms and bounty are the result of those who have served. We remember all of them today.

In a time, when freedom around the world faces new threats, we remember the strength, courage and vigilance of all who have served.

May we in our own times be worthy of them.

Lest we forget.