ANZAC Day Dawn Service of Remembrance 2023
Good morning, Queenslanders.
Traditional owners of the lands on which we gather.
And all past and present servicemen and women.
In the cool, quiet darkness of dawn, across our State and across our country, we stand together to remember those who have lost their lives to keep us safe and free.
We acknowledge the immense bravery and dedication of those first soldiers at Gallipoli—those who fought in the muddy trenches on the Western Front—and all the courageous men and women who have served our country in conflicts and peacekeeping missions since.
And we reflect on the ANZAC spirit born in the early hours of morning, 108 years ago today, when soldiers from Queensland’s 9th Battalion first waded ashore at ANZAC Cove, and—joined by thousands of others—began an eight-month-long military campaign that resulted in devastating loss of life.
These Australian and New Zealand soldiers left behind a sacred legacy—a precious gift that has been handed down through generations.
An enduring legacy that is a source of immense pride and inspiration to our people young and old, that continues to guide and teach us.
It represents qualities such as hope in the face of struggle, resourcefulness in moments of need, and resilience in times of despair.
Above all, it demonstrates the power of togetherness—first reflected in mateship on the battlefields, and through the incredible efforts made by those grieving at home, where the tragedies of War touched every single community in our State.
The Great War—that was meant to last for a few weeks—lasted for over four years. By its end, more than 10,000 Queenslanders had been killed and a further 16,000 wounded.
It was not unusual for communities to have almost every man of military age enlist, while some places, such as Maroon—on the Scenic Rim—suffered vastly disproportionate losses.
Queenslanders at home became a formidable civilian force, determined to help in any way they could.
Yet, the immense collective grief, which could have torn our country apart, brought us closer together.
Today, we are fortunate to meet in a dawn that is still and calm, where we are spared the awful dread of the next minute, the next hour, the next day.
And it becomes our turn to preserve, safeguard and honour this special benefaction, this priceless gift, by:
—Maintaining and sharing the individual stories—of those original ANZACS, and those who have served in all subsequent conflicts;
—Respecting our traditions; and
—Ensuring future generations will continue to learn the valuable lessons forged from tragedy.
I am deeply proud that the inception and drive to establish the first ANZAC Day commemoration—to publicly honour the fallen—originated in Queensland.
And while the form of ANZAC Day has changed over the years since the first, in 1916, many elements implemented by the original Queensland ANZAC Day Committee—the parade of troops, minute’s silence and the Last Post—are still observed today.
Towns right across our vast State—large and small—have memorials, cenotaphs, shrines, honour rolls and plaques—inscribed with names, and lovingly tended by their communities.
These monuments are located in the centre of town, or in the quiet peace of public gardens—so we can share experiences, or seek tranquil contemplation.
Memorial trees line our streets— in Roma, along Heroes Avenue, 93 Queensland Bottle Trees stand tall.
Our places, suburbs and streets carry names from distant battlegrounds—permanent reminders of places we may never visit, but which feature so powerfully in our history.
In our schools, we pay tribute to this legacy by sharing our past with young Queenslanders who show a keen interest in learning about the meaning of ANZAC Day.
Each year in Blackall, primary students help women from the RSL Sub Branch place poppies on the graves of their local military personnel, to discover more about the people behind the names.
Our museums, libraries, archives and galleries are custodians of our most priceless artefacts—handwritten letters, diaries, documents, together with medals, uniforms and the relics of conflict.
Treasure troves like the Miles Historical Village Museum, the Zara Clark Museum in Charters Towers, the Green Hill Fort on Thursday Island and the Maryborough Military and Colonial Museum unearth and champion local stories, while our major public institutions hold collections of significance that travel widely, and have their reach broadened through digitisation.
On our stages and screens, and in our writing, we explore this legacy and reinvigorate its expression.
And, with an everlasting promise to respect this cherished endowment, our State’s many dedicated charitable organisations compassionately support those who have suffered hardship and adversity as a result of conflict.
One such organisation, Legacy in Queensland, was created to care for families suffering bereavement, and in 2023 is celebrating a remarkable century of service to people in this State.
The ANZAC spirit lives on within us—characterised by the way we celebrate our triumphs, and how we confront our disasters—as we have most recently seen with the devastating flooding in North-West Queensland.
And it is continuing to serve us in the deeds and actions of our Defence Forces, our peacekeepers, nurses, doctors and all those who commit to serving others with valour, even when the risks are great.
The many and different ways we honour this legacy is what keeps it strong. Whether manifested through a large public gathering, or by an individual’s presence beside a single grave, this community of spirit brings us closer together.
The immense national sadness that unites us today continues to inspire us—even though we grieve—and continues to make us proud—even if those first early diggers left us long ago.
The Eternal Flame carries this legacy in its light.
It reassures us that when times seem bleak, when we face upheaval and unrest in our world, we carry within us this unique, imperishable essence.
It reminds us—as we enter the promise of a new day—that our liberty and peace have been built on the selfless deeds of others.
We have a duty, a responsibility, to honour their memory, now and always.
Lest we forget.