Sunday, November 12, 2017

I tried to imagine the stories


Image above: The 2017 Premier's ANZAC Spirit School Prize students and staff at the Long Tan Memorial.


A journal extract from 2017 Premier's ANZAC Spirit School Prize student Laura Stephens about the ceremony at Long Tan on 4 October 2017.



Suddenly, the lives of those who died here didn’t seem so distant. 

As I laid a rose at the base of the Long Tan memorial, I tried to imagine the stories which the young men who died in Vietnam, never got to tell. Stories of mateship, of bravery, of heartbreak. I looked around me at the place which was the last place so many men ever saw. Yet it seemed so peaceful. There was new life everywhere, small tapioca plants barely half a metre tall, trees which were so green they seemed fake, lush grass covering the distant hill. Seeing Long Tan like this, it was hard to imagine it littered with bullets, blood and army uniforms. Then Brenton shared with us “I was only 19” by Redgum. Suddenly, the lives of those who died here didn’t seem so distant. It was as though they were singing and remembering along with us. I can remember one lyric gave me chills right to my feet. It said, “Then a God almighty roar, and Frankie kicked a mine, the day that mankind kicked the moon, God help me – he was goin’ home in June” It reminded me how close to death each one of these men were. I felt tears in my eyes, imagining myself in the position of the families of each of these men. Imagining the devastation if it had been one of my brothers killed on that day.
Before I left for Vietnam, I researched a South Australian man who died during the battle of Long Tan. After coming to know a bit about his life and family, it made visiting Long Tan so much more meaningful for me. It was comforting knowing that his life and stories were still being remembered 51 years later, by someone who was no relation to him at all.

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