Your Anzac memories: Stories of love, loss and remembrance

Today, we asked Starts at 60 community members to share their Anzac stories; the special moments and memories that have been passed down through their families over the years.

Some are lighthearted and showcase the human ability to find humour in even the darkest times. Others are tales of tragedy and recall soldiers who returned home broken and damaged – if they made it home at all.

We have been truly honoured to read these stories and wanted to share them with you, the reader, on this special day.

Barbara Easthope, SAS community member

“My Grandfather told me the horrific task he was ordered to do that tore at his soul. As the body count rose at Gallipoli the wounded had to be evacuated to the ships off shore.

“Some had horses on board that had to be removed to make room for the wounded. Those horses were forced alive off the ships into the ocean, some drowned, some were blown to pieces by incoming shells, others got caught up in the wire on the beaches and left neighing in fear and pain.

“The soldiers begged their officers to be allowed to shoot them so they wouldn’t suffer, the answer was no the ammunition was too valuable. I remember my Grandmother telling us not to jump our horses near the house where Grandpa would see. It was only later I discovered that this triggered episodes of what we would now know as post traumatic stress.

“I was always conflicted over ANZAC Day, my grandpa never marched and had absolutely nothing good to say about the day or the military in general, my father and his family always did and were very proud of their service. As an adult I don’t have the conflict but in the tales we tell our Grandchildren about the past wars and the actions of their forebears do we cleanse the truth.”

Libby English, SAS community member

“My father was a great story teller and my three boys use to sit and listen to those stories without saying a word, eyes as big as saucers with the wonder of it all.

“He saw action in the desert and he would hide the horrors by telling his stories. The one we still laugh about at this time of year is his story about being the only Admiral in the desert.

“He told how it is not much talked-about but he and a few of his mates were Admirals that took the “Ships of the Desert” on a few reccies. Of course my eldest son couldn’t wait to go to school and tell his teacher and schoolmates the story.

“He was told by his teacher there were never any “ships” in the desert and to stop making up stories!

“Jamie came home and was quite upset and told his Pop he’d got into trouble for telling stories.

“Next day, Pop took his grandson to school and told the teacher of course there were “ships of the desert”, more commonly known as camels! The teacher apologised to Jamie in front of the class and dad left. She never said anything to Jamie again when he passed on info from his Pop.

“Lest we Forget.”

Grace Macdonald, SAS community member

“My father-in-law was posted to Cairo to work on planes.

“The runways in Cairo, or anyway for that manner were a magnet for bombs so all engineers wore white coveralls to blend with the sand.

“My father-in-law saw his mate doing as they had been told when planes came over and thrown himself flat on the ground.

“When he saw this Eric raced out and started throwing sand over his mate.

“Your wearing your blues you idiot!”

“His mate looked at Eric’s coveralls and spluttered “so are you!”.

John Reid, SAS community member

“Two uncles returned from different theatres of war. These are not war stories so much as twists in their tales, if you’ll forgive the pun!

“Harold was a Rat of Tobruk. While dug into sand tunnels in the Libyan desert, he developed a skin irritation from fleas or sand mites. He lost every hair from every part of his body and never again had an active follicle. A small, plump, jolly man, for the rest of his life he likened himself to the pink snooker ball!

“Jack, to use his term, was in Changi as a guest of the Japanese for 3½ years until he and the other prisoners were released in September 1945. He came home as brown as a berry after so many years in the tropical sun. A couple of months later, spending a day ploughing a paddock in the Tasmanian sun, wearing no shirt, he ended up with serious sunburn!”

Pauline Conolly, SAS community member

“This is my Great-uncle, Arthur William Singleton of the Tasmanian 12th Battalion. He was at the Dawn Landing at Gallipoli, fought at Lone Pine and then in France.

“He returned home wounded in 1917. Virtually the whole of his post war life was spent in a mental asylum as he was tormented by his lost mates, especially those who died at Gallipoli.

“His nephew (my father) served in New Guinea in WWII. My Dad was born the year Arthur returned home as a local hero and was named in his honour.

“However, the family were so ashamed of Arthur’s mental illness that Dad was never referred to by anyone as Arthur. Even when he was registered at school (on Remembrace Day), his mother gave his name as Robin.”

Fran Spears, SAS community member

“My grandfather, Corporal Hugh James Mcdonald never talked about the war. Once I asked him and he said “We all did what we had to do”.

“He was a light horseman who had to leave his horse behind for a camel. He told my mother that was hard as the horses were left to die. My grandfather was a small, quiet, unassuming man who worked all his life in the Kalgoorlie mines after surviving the war.

“He was the kindest man I ever knew. For some reason he wouldn’t march in the Anzac day marches. He died in his sleep aged 97 years old.”

Do you have any family stories to share? Share them with the community in the comments.