I have grown used to the chook ( chicken for you Poms) raffles and meat tray raffles (that are still very common in rural Australia) that occur at nearly every social gathering but I was unaware of the deep respect and reverence that most Australian and New Zealand expatriates living here hold for the Anzac Day remembrance service.
Waiting for the service to begin
Even though I am a Pom, and I have lived in Australia for 30 years, give or take, and am aware of the dawn service and marches that are held on Anzac Daty every year, I do not fully feel the full patriotic urge of an Aussie or a Kiwi to be part of the Anzac Day celebrations.
However, a very good friend of mine is a Vietnam Veteran and I knew that he would be attending the dawn service in Perth, so when I was invited to attend the dawn service at the Bomana Cemetry in Port Moresby by my bank manager, I decided it was well past time that I made the effort and attended.
The drill was that we were all to meet at the Aviat Club ( a premier sports and social club in Port Moresby) at 4 am on Sunday Morning. Yes that's correct - 4 am, not long after midnight and quite a bit before dawn.
Well, around midnight and knowing I was to be getting up soon, I had difficulty sleeping. This wasn't helped by the hot and humid conditions that evening and I found myself awake at about 2 am listening to torrential rain pouring down.
The thought of standing out in the open, in the dark, getting soaking wet didn't fill me with desire and I promptly fell asleep.
I was woken a bit later by the raucous beeping of my Australian digital alarm clock. The difficulty here is that I think the frequency of the power supply is not 50 Hz and digital clocks do not keep very good time, they gain about 10 minutes every 24 hour rotation, so it was not really 3.30 am but more like 3.15.
I looked out of the window and all was quiet with no sign of the rain that had gently lulled me to sleep.
Whilst still being totally ambivalent about getting out of bed, my colleague Stuart rang and enquired if I was on my way.
Fifteen minute slater and we were en-route to the Aviat to join the convey out to Bomana Cemetery.
Four of five 4 WD's headed out from the Aviat Club, in the dark and headed over the Poreporena Freeway towards Bomana.
Soon we were part of a much larger convoy as vehicles of all descriptions joined us and headed out to Bomana.
On arrival, the car park was already almost full. We were shepherded to a parking spot and then followed the crowd up the hill and around the corner where we were greeted by a welcoming committee of committed volunteers who handed us a lit candle secured in a plastic plate ( to stop the wax from burning our fingers) and a programme of events.
As I hadn't brought my reading glasses and it was pitch black anyway, I found the programme of little use that morning, but I did enjoy reading about it all the next day.
We all stood patiently under the huge fig trees waiting for 5 am and the events of the day to commence.
In the absolute dark, just before dawn we heard the rattle of drums form the distant end of the cemetery, that we could often just catch glimpses off as camera flashes went off at random in the dark. The drums were soon joined by the swirl of the pipes and the mystical sounds of amazing grace played by the Papuan Army Pipe band swelled in volume as they marched up through the quiet of the graveyard, where so many Anzacs were interred.
The pipe band came right up to the war memorial and we could just make them out in the dim light of the candles held by those closest to them.
In the quiet that followed we could just make out the catafalque party as they took their stations at the four points of the compass.
The master of ceremonies announced the arrival of the Governor of Papua New Guinea and the remembrance service began.
A series of hymns, sung beautifully by the choirs of local high schools, readings and prayers followed and then the solemn wreath laying ceremony, with so many wreaths laid that the war memorial was entirely surrounded.
The faint light of dawn spread over the gathering of around 1500 that had made the journey out to Bomana Cemetery, and soon we could see clearly as the ceremonies proceeded.
The graves of the Anzacs form a dramatic backdrop
And then the bugler palyed the Last Post from high above us, with the poignant notes rolling down upon us as we stood and remebered those who had sacrificed their lives so that we could live in freedom.
The band then played the national anthems of Papua New Guinea, Australia and New Zealand and finally the pipe band played their way out of the cemetery.
All in all it was a superbly enacted ceremony in a unique and exotic setting, far from the homes of those who lay in rest all around us.
We left as a convey and accepted invitations to a gunfire Breakfast at the Australian High Commission, where the majority of those at the ceremony made their way. Cooked breakfasts, Anzac biscuits, coffee with rum a cool refreshments were served, including the obligatory cold beers that the hardy amongst us sampled, with the first of many beers of the day at 7.30 am.
From the High Commission to the Aviat Club for a magnificent BBQ lunch, cooked so well by "Turbo" and company, a few more beers and then down to the Royal Papua Yacht Club ( http://www.rpyc.com.pg/) for some more beers and the best Two Up school I have ever seen outside of the original at Kalgoorlie!
The Original Kalgoorlie Two Up school
What a great day and many thanks and congratulations to the host of volunteers who made it so memorable.
