Aussie Saves Yank

I imagine this Anzac day was more poignant than ever, being the 100th anniversary of Gallipoli. (I'm writing on the morning of the 25th here in the States) Unfortunately I have no new Australian/New Zealander items to share, so I decided instead to share something much more personal – a story. I wish I had more details, but my father passed away when I was young.

It seems that at some point in WWII, my father’s American anti-aircraft battery was manned by both Australians and Americans. I imagine it happened in North Africa, when the Americans were still green troops, and the opportunity of learning from the experience of the seasoned Aussie soldiers would have been valued. In any case, my father was on duty behind the anti-aircraft gun, when an Australian came to relieve him. Dad told him he was early, but the Aussie shrugged it off as only a few minutes. As soon as my father had walked around the armored vehicle, a German plane, with the sun at its back so that it couldn’t be seen till the last moment, strafed the position. The Australian was killed at the gun, on my father’s watch.

Dad didn’t tell many war stories. When he told this one he’d usually say it wouldn’t have made any difference who was behind the gun. It was all a matter of chance. Other times he’s brood over it, saying that if he had been there, he would have been alert instead of just settling in. Years later I’d study psychology at the university and remember this story and recognize that what my father had was “survivor’s guilt.”

So, if it hadn’t been for an Australian soldier stepping up to pull a few more minutes on watch, my father would never have met and married my mother, and he would have never had a son (that's me) to present to his own mother. Anzac day usually passes unnoticed here in the States, but in my little corner of it, I make a point of remembering, because there are sacrifices that shouldn’t be forgotten.