Melbourne's first Anzac Day (100 years ago this week) was shocking and sad and surely sobering for those who thought there was glory in war.
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"Clio" in Melbourne's Punch began by being relatively bright and breezy.
She'd seen how "The Base Hospital Soldiers' Refreshment Stall celebrated Anzac Day by entertaining over 200 returned [wounded] Anzac men, presenting each guest with packets of. cigarettes, sweets, and matches. There was no speechifying or boresome formality about the affair – just a homely, cheery greeting."
But then "Each arrival was just enjoined in greeting to 'remember the day, and what it commemorates' and, indeed, the majority, of those present, with limp, hanging, empty sleeves, shaded eyes and pathetic bandages, had every reason to remember."
An unnamed reporter for Melbourne's Age found the "great and impressive service" in Melbourne's St Paul's Cathedral extremely harrowing.
"In the pews there were many women in the deep black of mourning.
"There was hardly one man of the 500 Anzacs who paraded for the service who did not bear the pathetic marks of wounds or illness. There were sightless men led by their comrades, men all hunched and with trembling limbs that could but shuffle along ... and almost every face was drawn and haggard, as if even 12 months had not yet effaced the terrible memories of Anzac.
"There were, too, men who had to be carried into the service .. they were laid in invalids chairs...beneath the pulpit."
