Turkey's rising nationalism over Gallipoli battlefields

Day after day buses pass the Turkish workers racing to get the road at Anzac Cove repaired before tomorrow's dawn service. Some buses have Australians in them, but most have Turks.

High on the ridge overlooking the dawn service site, 60 high school boys from northern Turkey inspect the harsh country in which ANZAC and Turkish soldiers fought and died 91 years ago. As one boy takes a photo, another wraps himself in the Turkish flag. Just a few years ago most Turks had no interest in the history of the Gallipoli Peninsula. Now, about 2 million visit every year.

On a summer's day 600 or 700 buses with Turkish tour groups may be parked on the high road above the battlefields, says Mark Sullivan, secretary of the Department of Veterans Affairs. "That's busier than Anzac Day."

A day before the dawn service, the Anzac Cove road remains controversial but an even bigger issue may be the fate of the whole peninsula.

Rising nationalism in Turkey, Australia and New Zealand is bringing huge crowds to the area. Turkish journalist and historian of the Gallipoli battle Gursel Goncu said: "The historical fabric of the battlefields is being destroyed by mass tourism."


http://www.theage.com.au/articles/2006/04/23/1145730811722.html

Little Johnny Howard, who has used Gallipoli for his own political
agenda. Turning what was once a simple dawn remembrance into a huge
political rally. The rock'n'roll circus of last year was a monument
to crassness and bad taste, all to help Howard push his face in front
of us all again.

And the paved road which makes it so easy for busloads of tourists
was laid at the behest of Howard, because Janette (according to Alan
Ramsay) found the dirt road too tough. In the process, bones of the
dead that had lain there undisturbed for 90 years were dug up and
tossed who knows where, or buried under the new road.

And now if you want to visit, the Turks force you to hire a guide -
you're no longer allowed just to wander around or meditate by yourself.

Thanks a bunch, John and Janette.

Did you hear anything on the news yesterday of claims that the massive rise in the attendance of the dawn service at the Australian War Memorial is down to people being more aware of terrorism over the past few years? I reckon one of Howard's PR people must have come up with that clanger. The reasons why the attendance has risen is down to what you said about the increased crassness that the day has been turned into, as well as (and this bit's only my opinion) a sort of belated realisation of the importance of the day now that the last veteran of WWI has died. Mind you, nothing is going to get me out of bed between 3 and 4am on a cold April morning so I can go and attend a service at the war memorial...

Violet...

probably has something to do with the realisation that the old diggers
are dying off. Even the WWII vets are few in number now, and many
looking very frail. After Korea and Vietnam, the later wars were
more like skirmishes and there's not many vets. IThe way we commemorate
Anzac Day will have to change before too long, and I'm sure people are
aware of that.

I didn't see the bit about terrorism, but Howard uses that one every
chance he gets, so nothing would surprise me.

..."Rising nationalism in Turkey, Australia and New Zealand is bringing huge crowds to the area."

We are simply part of a World trend........with umpteen possible influences including a backlash against globalisation.

and I sold my soul and my cigarettes to the Black Market man
I got the Vietnam cold turkey, from the ocean to the silver city
And its only other vets that understand . . .

has what to do with Gallipolli? oh and it's "round" Khe Sanh

Gallipoli vets would understand the song. Sorry that you can't.

I kinda suspect this one by Eric Bogle would mean a fair bit more...

When I was a young man I carried my pack
And I lived the free life of the rover.
From the Murray's green basin to the dusty outback
I waltzed my Matilda all over.
Then in nineteen fifteen the country said, "Son,
It's time to stop rambling, there's work to be done."
And they gave me a tin hat and they gave me a gun,
And they marched me away to the war.

And the band played Waltzing Matilda
As our ship pulled away from the quay,
And amidst all the cheers, flag-waving and tears
We sailed off to Gallipoli.

And how well I remember that terrible day,
How our blood stained the sand and the water.
And of how in that hell that they call Suvla Bay
We were butchered like lambs at the slaughter.
Johnny Turk he was waiting, he primed himself well,
He showered us with bullets, and he rained us with shell,
And in five minutes flat he'd blown us all to hell,
Nearly blew us right back to Australia.

But the band played Waltzing Matilda,
As we stopped to bury our slain.
We buried ours, and the Turks buried theirs,
Then we started all over again.

Now those that were left, well, we tried to survive
In that mad world of blood, death and fire.
And for ten weary weeks I kept myself alive,
But around me, the corpses piled higher.
Then a big Turkish shell knocked me arse over head,
And when I woke up in me hospital bed
And saw what it had done, well, I wished I was dead.
Never knew there was worse things than dying.

For I'll go no more Waltzing Matilda
All around the green bush far and free,
To hump tent and pegs, a man needs both legs,
No more Waltzing Matilda for me.

So they gathered the crippled, the wounded, the maimed,
And they shipped us back home to Australia.
The armless, the legless, the blind and insane,
Those proud wounded heroes of Suvla.
And as our ship pulled into Circular Quay
I looked at the place where me legs used to be,
And thanked Christ there was nobody waiting for me,
To grieve and to mourn and to pity.

But the band played Waltzing Matilda
As they carried us down the gangway.
But nobody cheered, they just stood and stared,
Then they turned all their faces away.

And so now every April I sit on my porch
And I watch the parade pass before me.
And I see my old comrades, how proudly they march,
Reviving old dreams of past glory.
And the old men marched slowly, all bones stiff and sore,
They're tired old heroes from a forgotten war,
And the young people ask,"What are they marching for?",
And I ask meself the same question.

But the band plays Waltzing Matilda,
And the old men still answer the call.
But as year follows year, more old men disappear,
Someday no one will march there at all.

Waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda,
Who'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me ?
And their ghosts may be heard as they march by the billabong,
Who'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me ?


http://mysongbook.de/msb/songs/r_clarke/banplayd.htm

...and I got choked up at the Wall of Remembrance. Now that lump is back in my throat...we owe so much to our Diggers..God bless em all.

story that relates even vaguely to veterans? (you'll note this story is about nationalism and people who were mostly not even born while Gallipoli was turned into a human blender)

I understand Khe Sanh fine, enough to know better than Don Walker (who very nearly became my brother in law during the 90's btw)and the insipid bogans that insist on singing it everywhere that not one single Aussie conscript had anything to do with the Battle of Khe Sanh