What Australia Day Means To Me

Today is Australia Day. A meaningful and deeply personal occasion for many. To me, it’s an opportunity to reflect on the individuals who built and maintained our brown land. In particular, Simpson and his donkey comes to my mind when I think of our values and what the occasion means to me. It represents a nation’s sprit, a spirit born in 1788 that grew to be displayed to the world on April 25, 1915, as Australia entered its young adulthood.

During the campaign against the Ottoman Empire, a contingent of 16,000 Australian and New Zealand Army Corps (ANZAC) soldiers attacked the Gallipoli peninsula near the Dardanelles. Many of them were still boys on their first journey away from home.

As they approached the shore, they faced a barrage of Turkish machine gun fire from entrenched positions on rugged cliffs. Before even setting foot on the beach, their flesh was torn apart by bullets, dismembering teenagers in the boats. By evening, 2,000 ANZACs had been butchered.

Over the following eight months, thousands more perished in ferocious trench warfare on treacherous terrain under unimaginable conditions. Yet, it was camaraderie rather than complaint that defined the Australian experience.

The immense challenges solidified trust and loyalty among individuals. Motivated by personal relationships and a sense of duty to their friends, men displayed acts of bravery and self-sacrifice that went beyond mere orders.

Among them, Private John Simpson, a stretcher-bearer from the 3rd Field Ambulance Brigade, exemplified these qualities to the point of legend. Simpson, part of the first attacking waves at ANZAC Cove, carried casualties alongside his fellow bearers from the onset of the engagement.

Going above and beyond his duty, he fearlessly exposed himself to ferocious machine gun and sniper fire in open terrain for twenty-four days and nights. His self-appointed task was to collect wounded soldiers from Monash Valley and transport them on a donkey to the medical stations on the beach.

Simpson’s unwavering commitment to the welfare of his comrades resulted in the rescue of over three hundred men in this courageous manner. Tragically, he was killed in action on May 19 while transporting two casualties.

Australia’s involvement in the Gallipoli campaign, the Western Front, and the entire First World War revealed a fundamental truth. It was not merely the fact that the young nation suffered a disproportionately high number of casualties per capita, or that Australian soldiers earned a reputation as a formidable fighting force on the front line, a distinction within the British Empire at the time. What truly set Australia apart was its demonstration of what was possible given the voluntary nature of its participation in the war.

Private Simpson, like all Australians in the First World War, had willingly enlisted. Unlike other nations, Australia had no military conscription throughout the entire war. Then Australian Prime Minister, Billy Hughes, entrusted the decision to the people through two referenda held in 1916 and the following year. This choice demonstrated the deeply rooted spirit of voluntary self-sacrifice that has come to define Australian identity.

In a remarkable display of democracy, Australians engaged in significant public debate and twice voted against using state power to forcibly send young men to their likely deaths. Australia became an international example, showcasing the willingness of free people to sacrifice for their community values.

These years highlighted humanity’s tendency to choose what is right when given the freedom to do so, in stark contrast to behaviours under coercion where self-preservation and a desire to “beat the system” often prevail.

Australians endured hardships with a unique sense of larrikinism, foreign to many nations and cultures. The Turks, perhaps out of respect for this fact, still maintain Australian graves on the Gallipoli peninsula today.

What was even more impressive was the perspective of the soldiers in the trenches regarding conscription. Despite the potential relief it would offer, the men opposed it. They did not want others to be forcibly conscripted and subjected to the suffering they experienced.

Back home, another army of sorts played a crucial role in ensuring the war effort remained voluntary. Australia was one of the few nations at the time that granted women voting rights. As a result, wives, daughters, and mothers alike swayed the referenda results.

However, the nation’s stance on conscription did not mean it was avoiding the fight. Boys as young as fourteen attempted to enlist by lying about their age. Vertically challenged men, eager to meet the minimum height requirements, were allowed by recruiting sergeants to stand on their toes during measurements.

Entire towns saw their working-age men leave their jobs to enlist at local barracks. Many did so the day after learning about the events at Gallipoli, driven by a sense of duty to help.

Furthermore, this sense of duty fostered a community-driven idea to boost enlistments—recruitment marches. Plumber William T Hitchen, known as “Captain Bill,” organised a group of men around rural Gilgandra in the state of New South Wales.

Without support from government authorities, they embarked on a 320-mile (515-kilometre) march to Sydney, braving all weather conditions. The sight of these marching men inspired enthusiasm in the towns they passed through, and their numbers grew to three hundred upon reaching Sydney.

Although he never returned home from deployment, Hitchen had left a remarkable example of what can be achieved at the local level without government coercion. The success of the Gilgandra recruitment march led to the organisation of similar marches across the country, providing crucial support to the deployed ANZACs.

If I reach my deathbed as half the man that those early Australians were, I’ll consider that a success. It’s the values of devotion to mates, voluntary sacrifice, hard work and principles, characteristics Australians uniquely forged together from a colonial past, that make me respectful of Australia Day. I’ll be celebrating it regardless.