a little reflective time..

In amongst all the fun and laughter of Istanbul, Di and I made the trip to see Gallipoli.  Like all Australians, I grew up with the story of the wartime debacle that occurred there, starting on the 25th of April 1915 and dragging on for eight months with terrible loss of life on both sides. Gallipoli has become a shrine to the Australians and New Zealanders who died there and a service is held there every April 25th which sees thousands of us heading there to pay homage to the dead. I have always talked about going there since coming to live in Bulgaria.  I mean, it’s just across the border from me, but time and circumstance saw me never making the journey.

When Di told me she was coming over, I figured this was as good a time as any to make that journey.

We were bussed up there at the crack of dawn by a tour company called’ TJ’s” and there started an amazing day and one that had a profound effect on me, something I really didn’t expect. Our tour guide was TJ himself and he was absolutely fantastic

TJ is a Turkish man married to an Australian woman and his knowledge was extensive. He told us things about that whole dreadful time that we were never taught in school.  I can’t believe how little I knew about it. He also gave us stories from the Turkish perspective, and that was good to learn about as well.

TJ had various documents with letters and stories and he asked for volunteers to read some of them out. I stepped up for the first one, as no one else seemed willing.  It was really hard reading the words of someone who had perished there

and I have to say, I was somewhat disappointed with my fellow Australians on the tour, none of whom stepped up to do the the later readings, which were done by an American and a Canadian.  And, of course, there’s nothing wrong with that because both countries had men involved, but this is an important memorial for us and I was surprised that no one would put themselves out there.

Though I found the whole area very sombre, I was asking myself why so many people I have spoken to over the years told me that they got really upset at the Gallipoli battle grounds. I certainly felt quiet, but I didn’t feel ‘upset’…until I read this

I just found it so moving and I crumbled. I felt like a bloody fool, but couldn’t seem to stop the tears.  It was a most interesting reaction for me and made me a little more understanding about the effect the place can have on you.

The entire area is dotted with graves and monuments, with Lone Pine being one of the most important to Australians

It’s also a place of great importance to the Turks and they have a beautiful monument there as well

including this beautiful sculpture

This was the last Turkish Gallipoli veteran who died when he was well into his 100s. It’s a beautiful thing…

Di & I did take a little time to get our pic taken at one of the sites and also to dip our toes into the sea….under far better circumstances than all those men who never made it back home.

I know that  visiting Gallipoli, even after all these years, was something I won’t ever forget.  It’s not a celebration of war, it’s part of our history as a developing country.  Australia was so young then and this devastated not just the country as a whole but small towns that lost a great deal of their male population.  It had to be an awakening for us and something that I agree all Australians should know about. The Turks have not forgotten and nor should we.  I heartily recommend that  every one that hasn’t been,  should try their best to get there before they shuffle off this mortal coil. And I’d certainly recommend TJ as a guide.  He made the whole experience live…he’s terrific.

After our quiet time we headed back into Istanbul..there’s more about that and lots of other stuff to come

for now…ciao