So I trained at LB’s gym this morning and the conversation around us went something like this.
Oh….did you feel the earthquake last night the terror…..It rattled my china ponies…I thought I was going to lose them all…..and then to come in here and its so cold, I dont know if I can stand 10 minutes on the treadmill wobbling my fat arse watching the tv…..the horror of it all…..
This is hard you soft cocks
On August 8th, the Anzacs and British II Corps began fighting their way north towards the Mouquet Farm, which the Germans had heavily fortified. The Anzacs inched forward between August 12th and September 13th, but the Germans held them back. They were relieved by the Canadian Corps, which was able to capture Mouquet Farm on the 16th, but were pushed out again by the Germans. They were finally able to establish a solid position on Mouquet Farm on the 26th of September and forced the German garrison to surrender the next day. The victory was not without its sacrifices, as the Australian divisions suffered 23,000 casualties while assaulting Pozieres and Mouquet Farm. The New Zealand division suffered 8,000 casualties, which amounted to nearly one percent of New Zealand’s total population.
Those 23,000 casualties occured in less than 7 weeks. Of that 23k over 7k were killed. Compare that with the 8 months on Gallipoli where we had over 8k killed.
The war journalist, later to become England’s poet laureate, John Masefield, described the battlefield around Pozieres as:”more densely sown with Australian sacrifice than any other place on earth”.
I consider Gallipoli to be a somewhat overblown Nationalistic celebration of a failure – which is somewhat in keeping with the Australian national character where failure is received more warmly than success. I am pleased that as the years go by that the focus has gradually been shifting to the Western Front and that the extraordinary sacrifice in that theatre is being recognised.
It is hard to keep real perspective in our modern lives as to what is truly challenging and what is simply an inconvenient.
My grandmother talked of making bread mixed with sawdust and bark during the war, my dad talks of digging up crops turned over the season before on the farm, to eat the rotten vegetables because there was no food in Europe after the war.
In contrast, I seem to get my undies tied in a knot if my internet is not streaming at full ADSL 2 speeds, or worse, is not working at all.
There is a need for adversity to develop appreciation and thereby acceptance with what we have.