I don't own Chuck et al.
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They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years contemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.
"For the Fallen" (fourth stanza)
by
Laurence Binyon (1869-1943)
Poet, art critic and veteran of The Great War.
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"Casey, you realize that this wasn't one of our battle fields. Or that we weren't even in this war when this happened"
"Chuck…." warned Sarah. She knew that the big man needed space.
Yesterday, Casey told had them he wanted to be somewhere in the morning. So they left the little sea port on the southern shore of the Black Sea, and drove all afternoon, and night. The mission was a loss anyway. Three days of nothing. Other sources confirmed the ship was still docked in Sevastopol. Worst case scenario, they could intercept it as she steamed into the Med.
They got there after three in the cool of a May morning. They were miles from any town. This just seemed to be a parking lot in the middle of nowhere. There were no trees Chuck could see, and it looked like pretty rough terrain. Casey parked, and they all got out. It was cold. Chuck shivered in his jacket. The GPS showed that they weren't that far from the site of ancient Troy.
The trio followed a path that lead them to a cemetery. A war cemetery. There was a large stone monument in the centre, made with simple, clean lines. The graves were well tended, and in precise military lines. While it was still dark, Chuck had the feeling there were a lot of graves around them.
Chuck read the engraving, 1915. Before the US was involved in the First World War.
"There are actually over thirty memorial sites on this peninsula. This is one of the biggest" Casey said quietly. "Come on, I want to see the cove" he announced at normal speaking volume, and led them off as the dawn light started to grow.
From the top, it was a steep, rocky slope. The footing was loose and crumbly. Chuck would have hated to have to climb it. From where the trio stood, Chuck saw he had a good view of the whole slope, and the narrow beach far below. Chuck began to realize that the men buried here probably didn't start the battle from where he was standing…..
There would have been absolutely zero cover. Even just landing a boat here would have been suicide.
Let alone trying to climb this slope…..
Chuck was a little hazy about the First World War, but he was pretty sure that landing craft of that era were basically just an open wooden boat, a design unchanged from when Washington crossed the Delaware. Or the life boats on the Titanic.
"Most likely, about the time you pair were trying to figure out what to wear on your first day of school, I was most certainly not in West Papua, removing a target. The other man who wasn't there was… he was Australian SAS. Warrant officer. Fucking mad bastards, the lot of them" but Casey had a fond smile "He died a few years back. Heart attack, aged forty" Casey gave a bittersweet grunt "Jogging. He was jogging. He hated jogging."
Chuck and Sarah kept their silence, waiting to Casey to continue. "Anyway, while we were, or weren't slithering through that jungle, he made some time one morning. It was April 25th. He called it ANZAC day. The British Empire forces landed down there that day. Brits, Aussies, Kiwis. Bunch of poor sods from France and India, even."
"They won, right? It was a victory?" Chuck wanted to think it would have a happy ending.
"Look at this place…. It was a massacre. I read up on it a couple of years later. They weren't even supposed to land here. They got dumped on the wrong beach. Where the defenses were strongest. Look at where the beaten zone is…. Three guns on interlocking arcs is going to own everything you can see. Traversing and grazing. All the Turks need for the perfect killing ground was enfilade. Their biggest problem was probably just keeping food and ammunition supplied. The ANZAC forces lasted eight months. Eight… months…before they were pulled back" he trailed off.
"But, if it was .. wasn't a victory, then why …."
"To remember." Casey said simply. He cleared his throat, "You know that un-winnable situation, the Kobayashi Maru? This was theirs. But it wasn't a test, this really happened. Men died here, in their thousands" Casey looked inland "On both sides."
Chuck and Sarah raised their eyebrows at Casey. Chuck was amazed at the big man for making any sort of science fiction reference. Sarah had seen the remake, thanks to Chuck, but she was more reacting to Chuck's amazement.
Casey grinned a little "Hey, I'm old enough to remember the real Kirk" but then he sobered "A lot of men died. For nothing. There wasn't really any tactical advantage for this place. The real war was elsewhere. But men still died. Maybe that's why it's important. Not for anything tactically important. But because men went to their deaths, perhaps not willingly, but they went anyway."
Casey stared at the horizon or a while "When we got back to Townsville, some of the other troopers told me how, and at that time this was about seventy years since Gallipoli, it's an important day even for the civilians. It is a national day. Ceremonies at dawn, and during the day. A small population like theirs and the Kiwi's, most people had some relative in the services. A grandfather who was there, or….."
Casey stood in silence, staring at the horizon, and the bayonet blades of a rising Sun.
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They drove to a town. Casey found a hotel for them to check into. After settling in, and sleeping for an hour to try and make up for last nights drive, Chuck felt he needed to check on Casey. Sarah looked at him questioningly
"Have you ever known Casey to do anything like this before?" Chuck said simply.
Sarah pondered for a moment, and said "Let me know if you need help. Or a hot extraction" she concluded with a sideways twitch of her lips.
He nodded, and went to Casey's room. Empty. On a hunch, Chuck checked the hotel bar. He almost missed him, but tucked away in the corner was Casey with a bottle and glass in front of him.
"Hey Casey. You OK?"
"You're not likely to leave me alone, are you?"
"Not likely" admitted Chuck.
"Sit. Have a drink on me" Casey signaled for more glasses.
"Bit early in the….. Sun's over the yard arm somewhere, I guess" decided Chuck, after that look.
Filling the silence, Chuck said "I was looking at the grave stones when we were there … Looking at the dates … just about everyone was younger than I am…"
"War's a young man's business, Chuck. When…. When I was in Grenada, we had a member in my unit. Most of us were in our early twenties then. ….Dave, we called him 'Pop.' He was the old man. He was twenty six at that time….." Casey had a rueful smile.
Casey filled Chuck's shot glass. He held his own up, drank it in one swallow. Chuck followed suit.
"Christ! What the hell is this?" Chuck coughed.
"Bundaberg Rum. Lot of ANZAC tourists come here. This whole area. They must import it for them. Felt appropriate" Casey admitted
"Smooth" croaked Chuck.
Casey smiled at the joke, and refilled both glasses. "Murray." Chuck must have looked at him in puzzlement, because Casey clarified "The man who told me about this place. He said he always wanted to come here. Don't know if he ever made it or not"
Chuck nodded "Murray" he agreed, and they drank.
Sarah found them ten minutes later.
"Wars were different then" Casey was explaining "They respected, hell, they even liked their enemy. That first Christmas, the trenches in France, they played soccer in no mans land…." Sarah found a glass in front of her. She raised hers and when Casey and Chuck followed suit, said "The survivors."
After she swallowed without outward reaction, Casey said "You two go do something. I'll be fine. Won't be too long."
The Sun was bright, and it was a nice day outside. Much like it was that day at the start of the First World War. Or when Odysseus left Penelope to join Agamemnon, in a time before man knew how to write….
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Sunday, 25th April, 1915 – ANZAC Day
Lest we forget.
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