The sound of the bugle during 'The Last Post' always gets to me.
I have long stopped trying to fight the tear that rolls down my cheek as that melody drifts across the air on Anzac Day.
Maybe the emotion is due to the fact the melody represents so many who died so I could stand in our Victoria Park on a lovely sunny autumn day and admire the colours of the leaves, without fear.
The Anzac Day march and service always fill me with pride but also a profound sadness that flows through my body for most of the morning.
Children marching, relatives wearing medals for those who could not march, crowds of people, families, young and old saying 'thank you' to those who served.
That fills me with pride; I can't say why, it just does.
Gallipoli was part of the war that was supposed to end all wars.
It was a war that was devastating in regards to the lives lost on both sides of the conflict.
That is what fills me with sadness, and I can easily acknowledge that.
You will hear the words echoed across our city today, from the president of the RSL Sub-Branch, the Mayor, visiting dignitaries but mostly from returned diggers that war should be commemorated, not celebrated. When I have heard those words at past Anzac day ceremonies, I usually see the nods of agreement from the gathered crowd.
That fills me with hope. Hope that the sacrifice those diggers made when they landed in Gallipoli was not in vain.
In the years since Gallipoli, our leaders have still sent young men and women to war, but it wasn't until Vietnam that the majority of society protested and called for a better way to solve the world's problems.
Presidents and Prime Ministers appear to have not paid attention to the main lesson from Gallipoli. War is futile, and violence achieves nothing.
As the bugle sounds the Last Post today, lest we forget...