anzac day was commemorated with a cup of tea and an anzac biscuit, while watching the tail end of a 50s war movie on tv. people sure spoke loudly and clearly in those days.

earlier in the day, during the televised parade of ancient diggers and their medals marching up george street, the question “what happens as they all die out? who’ll take their place marching?” was answered with “there’ll just be more wars”.

the boy and i visited the australian war memorial museum in canberra a week and a bit ago. [could the hype-writers across the country please take note that this is the mark against which “world class” should be measured?] packed with relics and stories and dioramas, so many dioramas. scale models of battlefields. helmets all sieve-like with bullet holes. archival footage of a japanese child, still alive, whose back was skinned by an atom bomb.

it still surprises me, what people do to other people.