Today marks the 92nd anniversary of the landing of the ANZACs at Gallipoli. There are no remaining World War One veterans; only a horse with boots backwards in the stirrups to symbolise their loss and relatives carrying flags and photos marching in their place.
It is a day of such mixed emotions. As an Australian, I am proud. Nothing epitomises what it means to be an Australian more than understanding what Anzac Day means. As an Australian I am angry. Gallipoli should never have happened. Eight thousand Australians should not have given their lives on the Gallipoli peninsula in what was a doomed endeavour. As an Australian I am deeply saddened at the loss of life, not just at Gallipoli, but in every war.
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