Mr Mayor and all those who have gathered here today, it is impossible to say on Anzac Day anything
which has not—in some form or another—been said before. But perhaps it is no bad thing that on one
day each year, the people of a nation should look not for something new but should look back in
remembrance of what has been done by Australians and why that has been done, and should look
forward to what can be done by Australians as a result of what has been done in the wars, which we
remember.
Twice in my generation, young Australians have left their homes and their families, their farms, their
professions, and have marched off because they felt there was a need for them to do this—not for
themselves, not only for the nation to which they belonged, er but for the world. If free men were to be
able to retain those things on which a society ought to be built, and if their children were to be able to
use those things which had been gained and must necessarily be preserved.
I said today was one in which we looked back and looked forward. And at this stage of our history, I
think this is doubly true. Because I speak today here to men who went to the First World War, to men
who went to the Second World War, to those who since went to smaller wars—but not smaller for the
individual engaged—and er to a large number of Australians who have no personal remembrance at all
of the First or the Second Wars.
I think we must therefore talk in segments. Talk to those who—50 years and more ago—left those
pursuits of which I've spoken and who went to storm the beaches of Gallipoli or to endure and suffer
and eventually to overcome in the mud of Flanders Fields. I must talk to those who—25 years and
more ago—followed the trail they blazed out to desert and sea and alien sky. And to those and those
who knew them—and who still remember them—we talk of remembrance today. Remembrance of
those Australians who saw a challenge, who laughed and marched away, and now—in ordered
cemeteries or in the high mountain passes or the deserts or the deeps of ocean—lie and are not with us.
And their parents and friends and comrades—who knew them as young men, and to us they will be
always young—on today, remember them personally. But the years are quick and already it is 50 years
or more since the men of the first AIF took up this challenge. Already it is 25 years or more—a quarter
of a century or more—since we—in our turn—followed them. And soon—relatively soon in the life of
a nation—those who remember will be fewer and fewer, until there are none left for those personal
memories.
And if today was merely a day to remember men who gave all that could be given, if today was merely
a day to remember young men who—burning in tanks or aeroplanes, drowning in submarines,
shattered or broken by high explosive shells—gave the last full measure of devotion, if today was just a
day to remember then, then in the future there would be none to remember and Anzac Day would
wither and die.
So we look forward as well. And we look forward—I think—in this belief: in the belief that those we
now remember went not to conquer other lands, not to subjugate other people, but to maintain that
which they believed was essential to be maintained if a nation were to live in freedom and in honour.
And we can refresh on one day a year, and I hope look into the future, that Australians in the corridors
of the far future will still remember: that what motivated these men was a desire to retain that political
freedom without which no individual can achieve his full potentiality.
To retain it against armed attack by armed resistance. And that they successfully retained it by armed
attack against, by armed resistance against armed attack. And knowing that, and knowing that this was
what made people do this—surely now and in the future on this day in the year—we can now—and as
far ahead as I can see—reflect on the importance of that which it was which was preserved, and
dedicate ourselves to see that that which was preserved is properly used.
What was got was not a new and better world, because one does not get a new and better world by the
use of brute military force. What one got was an opportunity to create—as free men—the sort of world
which inside all of us we want to see. A foundation is not a house. But without a foundation, an
enduring structure cannot be built. It was the foundation on which alone an enduring structure can be
built that was maintained by men who are not here.
It is on those who now are here—and on their children—to see that on this foundation is built a shining
structure and one which those who are not here would have regarded as something for which their
sacrifice was worth the giving. And because it is not easy to do these things in time of peace—without
the spur of war—because there is crowding in on us—in times of peace—always of personal problems,
getting and spending, laying waste our wealth, it is—I think, in a nation—a good thing that one day
each year we think of what was given to maintain a chance to build.
We rededicate ourselves to try—as much as within us lies—to build, to give that kind of community
service which will build, to create not only the material benefits which are needed for a proper
structure, but the spiritual approach of an individual retaining his individuality but—of his own free
will—devoting part of that to the community.
Part of that to see that on the foundation of political freedom is built economic freedom, is built
tolerance, is built a community that can live together without hate—in spite of differences—as to the
road that ought to be followed to attain a common end. It is these things I think which in the
future—when the time comes that those of us who experienced the test of war—are gone.
It is these things I hope our children will look back on and—marvelling at the endurance and the
courage that was given to this country by men in the past—will themselves seek to protect—in war if
necessary—against attacks from without or from within—if necessary—and being prepared to give that
protection. Being prepared also to give that effort, that endurance, that brain—which is necessary in
peace to make use of what is maintained—it is in that I see the enduring significance of this day which
we here have come today to memorise.
If this is so, if in the shadowy future of a nation—which in the shadowy future may be great—there
will come together on this day crowds such have come together today—looking back in pride, looking
forward in dedication—then all that loss and all that blood and all that sacrifice built into our heritage
will be not only a heritage but a harbinger of a future which I think we all want. I thank you.