Anzac Day - and a new book

When I was a child my family marked Anzac Day, 25 April, by climbing to the trig station on the hill behind our house. It was steep and – in my memory at least – often hot, in that blue-skied, bright, autumnal kind of way. Coming down was the best part – we generally slid, at some cost to our trousers, and with a degree of regret each time we discovered a seedling gorse bush tucked amongst the grass. We understood that Anzac Day marked the blooding of New Zealand and Australian soldiers in the First World War, but understood less well that the Gallipoli Campaign was just the beginning of a costly and hideous waste of men's lives that would run on for years and that, though thousands of New Z

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iBooks Best  of 2014
Donnel's Promise
by Anna Mackenzie