An army bugler is seen playing the last post during the Anzac Day dawn service at the Shrine of Remembrance in Anzac Square in Brisbane, Thursday, April 25, 2019. Credit:Darren England/AAP

Normal text size Larger text size Very large text size Brisbane has paused to honour the fallen, in ceremonies quiet and thoughtful, with young and old shoulder to shoulder. Anzac Day began with about 20,000 of people rising early to stand at the Shrine of Remembrance in Anzac Square, connecting with Australians long gone, fallen on battlefields across the world. In his speech before dawn at the shrine, Queensland governor Paul de Jersey said there was a direct way of making a connection with them, 104 years on from the landing at Gallipoli. "We can see their faces," he said, as the crowd was shown a handful of the State Library's almost 27,000 newly digitised photos of First World War veterans. He said while they appeared ordinary, they displayed incredible courage. As the sun rose slowly on hushed crowds, veterans of old wars and new spoke of the experiences they had gone through, the reasons for their service. Brisbane residents lay flowers at the Shrine of Remembrance during the Anzac Day dawn service in Anzac Square. Credit:AAP/Darren England


Peter Rabula, 49, retired from the Army three years ago. "I prefer the dawn services - I've lost some mates overseas so obviously it's pretty emotional," he said. "Today really highlights a lot of the sacrifices a lot of our forefathers made." Veteran Anthony Griffiths, 65, said the reverence Australians and New Zealanders felt towards Anzac Day ceremonies had not diminished. As the city turned its thoughts to the fallen, on the Gold Coast at Elephant Rock in Currumbin, thousands more gathered to welcome the dawn and honour the dead. The crowd crammed on to the beach and lined the streets, breaking their silence only to applaud the arrival of a host of veterans. Currumbin RSL president Michael Humphreys said war stole the innocence of a nation.


"No one can underestimate the price that has been paid by individuals and families ... because there are hundreds, if not thousands, carrying the physical and psychological injuries and will do for years to come." He said from 2001 to 2016 there were 373 recorded suicides in the ADF community. "We must do more to help the individuals and families who suffer." Afghanistan veteran Andy Cullen said Anzac Day was difficult for many veterans. "It is a sad reminder of friends lost and sacrifices made and wounds that may not heal," he said. Soldiers march during the Anzac Day parade in Brisbane. Credit:AAP/Glenn Hunt The service concluded with an emotional burial at sea where the ashes of 33 servicemen were scattered on the waves by local rowers from surf lifesaving clubs.


With the reverence of the pre-dawn services concluded in Brisbane, thoughts turned to honouring the living, those who fought and returned, and those who still offer service to their country. Pushing himself around his wheelchair at home and practising his best smile and wave, World War II veteran Noel Pilcher has been preparing for the largest Anzac Day parade in the state for months. The 99-year-old retired Private, who spent much of his war service patrolling swamps on Bougainville Island in the Pacific, now lives alone at Bowen in north Queensland. He has flown down to Brisbane with his family each year, for 40 years, to be a part of the annual Anzac Day commemorations. Marching with the 31st/51st infantry battalion for decades, retired Private Pilcher is now reluctantly pushed along in a wheelchair by his son-in-law, Russell Mayhew. WWII Private Noel Pilcher is seen during the Anzac Day parade in Brisbane. Credit:Glenn Hunt/AAP Retired Private Pilcher said he would make another "special effort" to come down to the parade next year.


"I am very proud to be an Anzac, I am extremely proud of serving my country. This Brisbane crowd is so supportive and warm, you just keep coming back," he said. Private Pilcher spent five years in the defence force, with half of that time spent fighting in the Pacific. "I was a forward scout in the infantry, which was a very dangerous job," he said. "You are out there by yourself and you have the responsibility of the whole patrol in your hands. I never let the patrol down." Sandra Davis didn't serve in the military but for more than 25 years she has proudly marched on Anzac Day to commemorate her father's service in World War II. Her dad, Bill Wharton, survived three-and-a-half years as a prisoner of war in the notorious Changi prison after he was captured in Singapore. His secret diary and sketches of prison life hidden from the Japanese guards form part of the collection at the Australian War Memorial.

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