Anzac Day 2008

Anzac day is coming up fast, towards the end of Pesach, just before Mimoona and Yisrachug, depending on which sort of family you married into, or didn’t. After all that matzo and the muflatot and couscous on the way, it does the soul good to chug down an early morning amber pint with your cream and strawberry jam scone.
Just joking. Last Anzac Day I woke up before dawn and attended the early morning ceremony at The Commonwealth War Cemetery on Mt Scopus in Jerusalem. I must admit I found it moving, though rather formal compared to the way things are done in Israel. I felt oddly drawn and repelled by the ceremoniousness, the starched and pressed uniforms, the glossed boots and the Polynesian buglers. James Larson, the refreshingly young Australian ambassador’s words were gratefully calm, rational and measured, helping to bridge the gap between the gallant past and the modular present. I guess the protocol is a remnant of the old stiff British upper lip.
I rubbed my arms against the early morning chill looking apprehensively around for a familiar face, which were far and few between. But I was happy to spy one young prepubescent face in the crowd. I think it was the ambassador’s son.
This year the embassy has invited members of The WWI Heritage Association, who were so active in the organization of last October’s 90th anniversary of the Battle of Be’er Sheva re-enactment, to the Anzac Day ceremony. Nice touch.