Forgotten war continues inside veterans’ hearts
Every year Anzac Day is commemorated by countless thousands of people at dawn services and marches across Australia. The words “Lest we forget” are used to symbolise our tribute to those who died in war, with a particular focus on Gallipoli in 1915, but also covering all major conflicts since then.
Whether our understanding is based on myth or reality or a mixture of both, Anzac Day is a deeply moving occasion for many. But we must also recognise those for whom it means something very different. It is a reminder of trauma they are trying to forget. The conflict in Iraq is a stark symbol of the fact that wars do not end when a proud president or prime minister announces a victory. War is not a mathematical exercise, a tabulation of human and material gain or loss to be recorded in some historical balance sheet. It is an endless destructive force, one that continues to ruin the lives through the years.
What do we say to those unseen victims on Anzac Day? To those who wake in the night, trapped once more in some nightmare from the past. To those whose health has been permanently ruined by the crippling effects of chemical warfare and who now have to suffer again as illness and deformity reach into the next generation.
Belated attention is finally being given to the neglect and abuse suffered by the veterans of the Vietnam conflict. Not only did the survivors have to suffer the direct effects of the experience, but they were also the innocent victims of an unpopular war. In what is now seen as a national disgrace, we collectively turned our backs and left them struggling for understanding, assistance, and recognition.
No words, particularly any as brief as these, can do justice to what men and women endure in the heat of battle and the years that follow. Many will continue to march on Anzac Day and attend dawn services. They will stand in silence and remember fallen comrades. That is as it should be . But we must also respect those from all wars who choose not to go to the services, those for whom each day is a struggle with the demons of the past. For their voices can be lost in the flow of words that adds lustre to the legends.
We need our legends, our stories, to pass from generation to generation. They have a place in our history, but it must be one that is grounded in reality. That means not only accepting the truth about what happened at the time, but recognising that the aftermath of war can mean continuing anguish for so many.
By: David Campbell, Forgotten war continues inside veterans’ hearts, SMH, 23 April 2008
