Anzac Day

I never knew if you went to a dawn service. I remember the first one I went to, up in Canberra, and I wished and wondered whether you had ever seen this rare and solemn ceremony. It was Anzac Day, and I had a whole new perspective on why we have a public holiday for it in Australia.

The English don't really get Anzac day - after all, they've fought dozens of wars - but my first year here, I joined all the other expats at Hyde Park Corner (damn, but I wish I'd done more of London with you sometimes). I stood in the dark underneath Boudiccea on the Marble Arch, with Ants in full police dress uniform (operating on the premise that its easier to ask forgiveness than permission, an approach I know you would have appreciated) reciting "For the Fallen", anticipating every note of the Last Post and Reveille. There were wreaths, and later a meal at a pub.

It was a defining moment in Australia's history. A terrible episode that brought our nation dramatically into adulthood from blissful adolescence. Its a transition Mikko never made himself - but that can never diminish his admiration for those who did.