You know how some things can be so familiar that you don't really see them any more? Like street lights, for example - if someone says, "Point to the streetlight," then you can do it... well, you're more likely to say, "What?" But you could do it, if you were so inclined.
Memorials to the Great War and WWII can be kind of like that. I don't know what it's like in, say, the US, but I don't think I've ever been to a settlement in NZ or Britain that hasn't had some sort of testament to the people who used to live there, but went overseas and never came back. I know some local stories - for example, at the beginning of WWII the top stream maths class at St Pats all trained as navigators for bombers. None of them made it through the war.
One of the weird things is that it's something that touched the lives of everyone who was around at that time, and it's something that's still in living memory. My father's parents met, in part, because of the war. I can't imagine things getting to the point where NZ reintroduced conscription; but then again, people seemed to genuinely believe that there'd not be another war after the Global War.
ANZAC day was just another working day for me.
I don't think I have any particular point to make.
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Picked up my new flatmate from the airport. Her plane landed five minutes after three other international flights touched down, so it took about 40 minutes for her to clear customs. I was vaguely worried throughout, since I'd foolishly gone up to the Gate upstairs, rather than down to where Customs lets out. Hey, it's been a long time since I've picked anyone up from an international flight into Wellington!
Anyway, apart from being randomly teased by some complete stranger (he saw the sign I had saying my flatmate's first name, and said he thought I was being optimistic), I had a relatively uneventful time, though it's a weird experience to stand there and try to see whether any strangers are trying to catch your eye. My flatmate, on the other hand, had a passport official who said that she must have the address wrong, because they lived next to my house, and it was empty!
(When we got to the house, Sab (my flatmate) spotted the official on the street - she had obviously decided to make sure that Sab actually arrived. I'm not sure whether that's endearing or creepy.)
First impressions? I think we're going to get along just fine - and I don't base that solely on the fact that she's insisting on not letting me pay for the booze that I got her to get at duty-free, which totally made up for having to pay $6 for the priviledge of parking at the airport. ;) Instead, I base it on the fact that she laughed at some of my jokes, a sure sign of a keen and incisive mind. >;)
For your own first impression... well, Saturday isn't far away!
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You know what what would be awesome? You know what would be a really, really good use for the space in the roof? Something along the lines of this guy's home theater, that's what! Something to aim for once the mortgage is gone...
Posted by svend at April 26, 2005 12:28 PMI can't wait to mee her! J@zz and I are thinking of coming on Saturday. I hope we make it!
My WW2 Stories... my Grandad was about to board a boat for sale to the war when it was called off. I'm not sure if 'about' means he was just about to step on the boat, or he was a couple of days from leaving or what, but that's the story. Also, my Pop served in the HomeGuard.
Even though I've only gone to a Dawn service once in my life (good ol' Scouts! - yes I was a girl in scouts) I still rememeber them on ANZAC day, and every time I pass a memorial.
LEAST WE FORGET --<--@
<- (I know it's a rose, but it's a poppy for this case)