We made ANZAC biscuits today and my daughter asked me “what’s ANZAC day?” and I felt ashamed that she did not know.
She has spent all of her eight and a half years living in England, and whilst she likes the knowledge that she’s half Australian, it doesn’t mean anything to her yet. One day I will take her home to the red dust and see if she feels the same indefinable surge of peace on landing that I have experienced each time I have gone back.
I was born and spent the first half of my childhood in Australia. My father was in the Royal Australian Air Force, as was his father before him. My father’s grandfathers were also both servicemen.
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