Hope in the darkness

BY MAJOR BRETT GALLAGHER*

Possibly my earliest memory of Anzac Day was going with my father and the Hurstville Salvation Army band to the local Sub-branch’s dawn service. We would march from the front of the sub-branch across a bridge over the railway and down the main street of Hurstville.

The RSL members, friends, family, scouts and other community groups would march behind the band. It was eerie, as once we turned the corner from the street in front of the RSL club there were no streetlights and depending on the phase of the moon it was often quiet dark, until we reached part of the main street near the cenotaph where there were streetlights again.

For most of the march there were few, if any, people on the side of the road to witness the march, and often only a handful of people waiting the arrival of the march at the cenotaph.

As I reflect this year once again on Anzac Day I have been drawn to this memory. I think it stands out to me for several reasons.

Turning up

Firstly, the simple act of turning up each year for many years built a strong sense of commitment in remembering the sacrifice of others on my behalf. It is still not something I take for granted. In the ensuing years, as numbers began to decline at Anzac Day commemorations, this sense of continuing to turn up grew even stronger in me and my soul rejoiced as a new generation embraced Anzac Day. It is only a simple thing, but for me, turning up to the dawn service each year is a way that I can continue to acknowledge the greatest thing anyone can give someone else – the laying down of their life.

Hope in the darkness

Secondly, in the darkness you can always find hope. When I started playing with the band I tried to remember a significant section of the marches we would play, as without streetlights I was unable to read my music. There were times when I was hoping for just a shred of light from one of the shopfronts, or that I would remember enough so that I would make it to the next streetlight.

One of the things about going through tough dark times is, it is those that can hold onto hope that seem to be able to make it through.

Each year, as different accounts of the ANZACs were read, this was one of the things that struck me.

Important to reflect

And finally, the most important thing I learnt from this childhood experience is that it is important to spend time reflecting, not just celebrating. For some, silence and reflection are uncomfortable. It is difficult to be alone with our thoughts. As someone that enjoys being around people, silence and reflection are not natural for me. But as I stand quietly with many others there is a deep sense of connectedness and appreciation, a sense that in spending this time reflecting, some of the futility of wars and conflicts is diminished. 

As I think more about this, I see the same things in the Christian message. There is someone, Jesus, who laid down his life for me. That because of Jesus, in times of great darkness and sorrow, I can still have hope. And that we need to make sure we don’t rush through life but spend time reflecting and appreciating these truths.

May your Anzac Day be one that reminds you of the things that are important to you.

*Major Brett Gallagher is Chief Commissioner of The Salvation Army’s Red Shield Defence Services

Major Brett Gallagher in his role as Chief Commissioner of The Salvation Army’s Red Shield Defence Services – (from left) at an Anzac Day service, speaking with TSA Museum Manager Lindsay Cox, and chatting to the grand-daughters of WWII Salvation Army Sallyman William Tibbs.