ANZAC Day. Remembrance in the Red Centre

 

 

 

The horse hides were glistening in the last rays of sunshine. Fine dust kicked up by trampling hooves filtered through the air. Here beautiful!! I said softly. The brumby glided effortlessly towards the fence. Beep-Beep went the camera, now there is an unusual sound for a stockman’s horse. With her head turned, ears pricked up and her eye open wide - staring at me ever so alert. As a city slicker, I have never come in contact with horses that were this energetic and alive.



Notice how she is watching me

Two Indigenous, lean young lads strode over, both wearing wide brimmed cowboy hats. An avalanche of Aranda cut through the air as if a machine gun had gone off. Regretfully, the only thing I could make out were names of places.

 

Dwight, one of the young stockmen at Telegraph Station

"You know what the horses are doing here?" I asked in English. The boys explained in a few sentences, that they had rode the horses all the way from Hermannsburg to Telegraph Station and that they had been in the saddle for 5 days to cover the 130 kilometres.  

After a bit of research, I found out that the senior students of the N’taria school (otherwise known as Hermannsburg) had tamed the wild brumbies themselves over the last 12 months as part of agricultural studies. The students had forged great bonds with, and clearly loved working with the animals. They went on to tell me that the horses were brought down to Alice Springs to ride in the ANZAC Parade. 'This might just be an ANZAC day to remember', I thought.

Every clump of grass looked like a Kangaroo in the high beam as we drove towards Alice Springs in the pitch black, earliest of mornings that ANZAC day. ANZAC Hill towers above Alice Springs and would surely be quite a challenge to make the climb for some. By the looks of it plenty made it as it was shoulder to shoulder, standing room only during the ceremony.

 

Shoulder to shoulder at ANZAC Hill

The Catafalque party left a memorable impression. Hissing commands pierced the night sky. Four guards sprung into action. Watching these skilled soldiers, making their deliberate but deadly quiet strides as they were taking  guard around the monument, as a first-timer was an unforgettable spectacle.

 

Taking guard

We all paid our respects to soldiers never to be forgotten as the sun edged between the horizon and the cloud cover. The lights of Alice twinkling all around and below us. Both Australian and New Zeeland National Anthems were sung - speeches were given by well-spoken dignitaries – a group of policemen and women stood to attention towards my left – wreaths were laid – a child was comforted in her father’s arms towards my right – special mention was made of the Japanese attacks on the Northern Territory - the crowd stood silent - that damn bugle player, he had us all in tears as he played a poignant, almost quivering rendition of the Last Post.

 

"They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old; 
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn. 
At the going down of the sun and in the morning 
We will remember them."

Laurance Binyon

And the crowd repeated in solemn unison:, “We will remember them.”


Later that day, a parade commenced from the council building, where I had plenty of time to take walk up and down the line and get something on film before kick-off. A diverse variety of uniforms and agencies were about to march on a gloomy day back to ANZAC Hill.




Our Aussie soldiers marching on

Alice Springs is a small town, the parade understandably not long, but nevertheless welcomed by an enthusiastic large crowd boosted by grey nomads and tourists.

There was a small contingent of American soldiers in the parade paying their respects, representatives of the central MacDonnell's worse kept and often publicized secret base. 

Schools and community groups were well represented in the ranks, I spotted a father and two kids on a truck, very much advertising that they were from New Zealand. 

This young man looking to follow in his father's footsteps

And there, finally, came the highlight of the parade. The Hermannsburg contingent, all wearing fair dinkum uniforms donated by the Australian Light Horse Association. A vision of historical significance and pride, taking us right back to the Fourth Light Horse Brigade storming the Ottoman trenches at Beersheba. 
 



To quote a mate from Western Australia who used to live in the red centre, "ANZAC Hill has to be the best place in Australia to hold an ANZAC dawn service."

 Grey Bits

A special mention goes to all the volunteers that worked very hard to make ANZAC day a memorable occasion. The RSL club did some great work providing a free breakfast, coffee and tea (with a dash of whisky - if that tickled your tipple) for a hungry and thirsty crowd.

If you like to read more about the Indigenous students click on the following link:

http://mobile.abc.net.au/news/2015-04-22/aboriginal-students-130km-horse-ride-anzac-wwi-tribute/6413724

The battle of Beersheba is described in detail on this website.

https://www.awm.gov.au/blog/2007/10/30/the-charge-of-the-4th-light-horse-brigade-at-beersheba/

I took way too many photos of the parade. If you like to have a gander just keep on scrolling down.




The police escort with a sound message. Seatbelt, mate!!



 



Larapinta 16: Walking to the Beginning of Time

 

 

Use this gadget in case of an emergency; help is only four months away

 

The campsite exploded in a flurry of activity at 5:30am. Torches flickered around in tents; the sound of zippers and the rustling of canvas filled the pitch-black, chilly air. In record time we were all packed and ready to go, drawn to the ultimate prize of the day, the Larapinta finish line.

 

Telegraph Station

 

 

The first building in Alice Springs

The Telegraph Station is worth having an extended look at, since it is the place that marks the first white settlement in the red centre.

The Alice Springs Telegraph line was midway along the Overland Telegraph line from Darwin to Adelaide. Opened in 1872, the line suddenly reduced the isolation of Australians from the rest of the world.

I was surprised to see my lawyer swallow the hill in the distance in one gulp before I could strap my pack on. The Hilton was calling.

On top of Euro Ridge I was greeted by the rising sun, shrouded in a faint morning haze. The left of the ridge was a spinifex covered, rounded hill and to the right was a sudden dangerous drop, with far reaching views. Our splintered group of hikers took the trail teetering right on the edge of this dramatic plunge. While I unpacked my camera I could see them all disappear, one by one,  over the hill in the distance. My word!!! I could not believe what I saw through the viewfinder of my camera. I lost a piece of my soul up there on that ridge.

 



The steep rock-face in the morning

 

I have always attempted to share the finish-line euphoria with friends, family and the people I love. Five kilometres from the end, I texted those people, announcing my imminent, hard fought achievement. My phone did not stop with the congratulatory responses all day.

My small moment in the winter sun!

 

My lawyer who managed to stay out in front of me this whole morning came into view only four km's from the end. Now so much stronger and faster than ever. We walked together for a while; it was a joyous highlight-recalling session. At the last kilometre mark we decided to walk alone.

Somehow the trail gifted us a flatter area and passed a tiny graveyard. There lay people that died way before their generally accepted due dates even in those tough colonial days. Maybe a warning for when you start the Larapinta Trail, maybe when you are finishing the trail, the headstones in the cemetery queue you to thank the millions of lucky Larapinta stars that you’ve made it; safe and alive.

 

 

 

Ernie died of tuberculosis and was the brother of the station master T A Bradshaw. Imagine being terminally ill in a place thousands of kilometres away from civilization. The first building has only just been built and it isn't a hospital. Imagine having to stand by your brother helplessly and watch him die.

 

I felt more than alive walking the last couple of hundred metres. My thoughts and emotions were mixed like an expensive cocktail - happiness – feeling reenergised – dying for a good coffee – chest swelling pride for finishing  – sadness it  was all over – absolute awe of the natural beauty I had witnessed - feeling strong and fit - overcoming the physical and mental hardship.

Good things happen in the presence of beauty

 

The many days of limping in solitude were finally over. A little gazebo appeared in the distance with a large sign announcing the trailhead of the Larapinta Trail. I crossed the finish line with the biggest dingo howl and fist-pump imaginable. Grant was waiting for me there and after a serious handshake and some back-slapping, he offered to take a photo or two.

 



Mars is done!

 

For me, all that was left to do was wait for the man of the law to finish his long journey of survival and nail it down in kilobytes.  As he rounded the corner, a large smile rolled across his face and his arms reached up into the sky in triumph.

 



The trial finished

 

Grey Bits

Thanks to all the amazing people I have met on the Larapinta Trail. I hope our paths will cross again soon.

Grant - in a good place

The coffee tasted great at the Trailhead Café. We celebrated our hike for a couple of hours out on the terrace. Find more information on the Café and the Telegraph Station at this link alicespringstelegraphstation.com.au




Packs down

 

Please don't forget to read the government website before you take on the Larapinta Trail.
nt.gov.au/leisure/recreation/bushwalking-hiking/larapinta-trail

Thanks to the Government and Parks and Wildlife for the funding and upkeep of this world class hiking trail.




Follow the trail of the Yeperenye. It is in your hands

Last but not least, a warm thanks and a big hug goes out to my partner Jules for supporting me all the way along the track, putting up with my crazy antics and editing every thingymebob of mine into palatable English.

 

Thanks to you too mate

 

I often wonder what this place would have been like in the days of the first settlers.  The fact still remains - this is one of the most isolated, magical places in the world and in my opinion well worth visiting.

A long time ago came a man on a track

walking thirty miles with a pack on his back

and he put down his load where he thought it was the best

made a home in the wilderness.....

 

Telegraph Road written and performed by Dire Straits
 



The wires that connected Alice Springs to the rest of the world