A reading by HRH The Prince of Wales at the ANZAC Dawn service

Published 25 April 2015

I suspect that many of those here today may be of my own generation, born some thirty years after the end of the 1st World War and whose grandfathers and great uncles may easily have fought or lost their lives in this most bloody of campaigns. When I was young I remember talking to the then Field Marshall Lord Slim about his recollections of the battles in which he was ultimately badly wounded.

When the Anzacs finally left this place, they were tormented by the thoughts of leaving their comrades behind, that their suffering and loss would be forgotten, that their graves lie untended.

Lieutenant Ken Millar of the Second Battalion wrote:

There was the question of our dead mates... we lived at Gallipoli with our dead alongside us. Owing to the lack of space our cemeteries were always under our eyes. The hardest feature of the evacuation was in leaving those dead comrades behind. They had bequeathed us a sacred trust... as the party stole away from the line they took off their hats passing the crosses, and old hard-bitten Anzacs wept silent tears.

They did indeed bequeath us a sacred trust a trust we honour today.

Company Quartermaster Sergeant Benjamin Leane of the 10th Battalion was one of six brothers, five of whom served in the First World War. He wrote his diary in the form of letters to his wife. On the night before the landing he wrote:

In case the worst happens and I am unable to make any more entries I will take this opportunity to bid you goodbye dear girl. I trust that I will come through alright, but it is impossible to say and I must do my duty whatever it is. But if I am to die, know that I died loving you with my whole heart and soul, dearest wife that a man ever had. Kiss little Gwen and our new baby, who perhaps I may never see, and never let them forget Daddy. And you, dear girl, I would love to write you a long goodbye letter, but I must do my work and there is no time. But I love you dearly, my own Phyllis, and I trust that you will always love me. But remember, dear, that if I am killed, I wish you to do absolutely as you think advisable for your future... One little word for mother, dear. Bear with her and be good to her in her few remaining years, for I know she loves me dearly. And tell her that I am not afraid to die, nor am I afraid of what is to come after death. Just tell her “I know in whom I have believed”. And now, dear, dear sweet heart, goodbye, goodbye.

Benjamin Leane never held his new baby. He survived Gallipoli and was promoted to Major only to die in France in 1917. Here today, we remember his sacrifice, and that of all those who served and suffered here in this far away place on the other side of the world to the Antipodes.