Australia salutes last of the Gallipoli survivors
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Your support makes all the difference.In the trenches of Gallipoli, Alec Campbell became a man and Australia a nation.
Yesterday the nation mourned the passing of Mr Campbell, the last survivor of that bloody campaign and Australia's final link with the defining chapter in its history.
Mr Campbell, who was given a state funeral yesterday, lied about his age to enlist and was only 16 when he went to Gallipoli, in Turkey, in 1915. He was two years older than newly independent Australia, which was fumbling to carve an identity after cutting the colonial ties with Britain in 1901.
Gallipoli was a disaster, a nine-month battle of attrition that ended in Allied retreat and cost a total of 300,000 lives. But Australian soldiers, fighting under their own flag for the first time in the Australia and New Zealand Army Corps (Anzac), distinguished themselves by their courage and – as legend has it – forged the spirit of the young nation.
Mr Campbell, who had nine children and died last week aged 103, was Australia's last Gallipoli veteran – and, it is believed, the last of the one million men who fought on the Allied and Turkish sides. His funeral was an occasion to recall the Australians who did not return home and to reflect on an era that he came to embody.
John Howard, the Prime Minister, who cut short a trip to China to attend the service at St David's Cathedral in the Tasmanian capital, Hobart, evoked the Anzac spirit in a eulogy. "Within this one man's journey, we can chart the story of Australia itself," Mr Howard told the congregation, which included military officers, dignitaries and diplomats, state premiers and 100 members of Mr Campbell's family.
"Within this one life are illustrated the living values that transformed Australia from the hopeful young Federation of Alec's childhood to one of the great developed nations of the modern era."
While hundreds of mourners filled the cathedral and braved chilly weather outside, the country paused to observe a minute's silence at 11am. On construction sites, workmen downed tools; at war memorials in Sydney and Canberra, people gathered in silent tribute.
Flags flew at half-mast and even commuters were reminded of the solemnity of the day; electronic signs that usually warn of impending traffic jams stated simply: "Lest we forget." The values of egalitarianism and "mateship" that Australians hold dear were born in blood at Gallipoli, and are celebrated each year on 25 April, Anzac Day. Mr Campbell never failed to participate, although this year he was so frail that he led the march in Hobart from a car.
His daughter Caithleen Claridge said: "He always said he marched for the young men claimed by the Gallipoli campaign and here today, as ever, he is a representative of all those who went. Dad accepted the last role thrust upon him with his own special grace."
Yesterday, after a bugle sounded Last Post, a guard of honour escorted a gun carriage bearing Mr Campbell's coffin through Hobart. On it were 103 red roses, one for each year of his life. A 21-gun salute rang out as the family departed for a private burial service.
Some 50,000 Anzacs were among a British-led army that landed at Gallipoli. Mr Campbell braved heavy fire to carry ammunition and water to the front line. He recalled: "It was dangerous work. Every day at least one carrier got hit. Once we were there, we didn't expect to survive."
He later worked on a cattle station, then as a carpenter, before joining the Civil Service. He was a trade unionist, a keen sailor and – as his family recollected – a man of charm and energy, a generous host and inspiring parent.
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