5 May 2012 - Exhibition Park Camping Ground, Canberra, ACT

Every day starts with a forecast or comment about the weather. I could apologise for that but will not. Weather conditions do effect how one sees the world and that is the business I am in; seeing the world, or more precisely, the world of Australia. And so this morning started pretty much as the preceding days however we rose later courtesy of the new beanie and the magic pink bed socks kitted by Wilma, the kindly Christian lady from Londonderry just outside Penrith back in April last year.

We gave the Farmers Market a miss this morning, feeling that we had been there, done that, and so instead headed off in to the city or more particularly to the Australian War Memorial. This is on every Canberra visitor’s to-do list, or should be, because it is just wonderful, even if given just a fleeting look. But I would challenge anyone to minimise their tour to just a glance because the more you see, the more there is, and the more you want to see.

Charles Bean, Australia’s official World War I historian first conceived a museum memorial to Australian soldiers while observing the 1916 battles in France. The War Records section was established in 1917 but the actual building, designed by two Sydney architects, Emil Sodersteen and John Crust, was not opened until 1941, after the outbreak of World War II and just before Australian troops entered the Pacific theatre of war.

There have been additions over the years, but just as Burley Griffin’s Grand Design has continued to influence every change or development here in the city as a whole, Charles Bean’s vision has kept this museum on the path of the truth; recording the war as it was, not as any kind of celebration or morose shrine.

We were fortunate enough with our timing, as we so often are, to join the free tour at 11 am and spent an hour and a half in the company of a veteran from the Vietnam War. Given his experience, I was most impressed that he did not give us a spiel that was coloured by either glorification or from the view of a peacenik. He simply drew our attention to the exhibits that portrayed the actual history of the battles, the soldiers, the women, the artists, the horses and other participants simply as it was. We both enjoyed the tour immensely and had it not been past our normal lunchtime, would have resented the end of the tour.

The grounds of the museum are just lovely, currently alive with the colour of autumn, although we have yet to explore them in their entirety. We have seen only a couple of the sculptures about and look forward to wandering about on another day to take them all in.

The Memorial consists of three parts; the Commemorative Area or shrine including the Hall of Memory with the Tomb of the Unknown Australian Soldier, the galleries or museum and the Research Centre.

The Courtyard fronting the Hall of Memory

The Hall of Memory is a tall dome shaped chapel with an octagon shaped floor. The walls are lined with tiny mosaic tiles from floor to dome. Three of the walls, facing east, west and south, feature stained glass designs representimg quallities of Australian servicemen and women. On the four walls in between those windows are mosaic images of a sailor, a servicewoman, a soldier and an airman.The mosaic and stained glass are the work of the one armed Australian muralist Napier Waller, who lost his arm in World War I. He completed his work in 1958 and today I was very impressed with both this and the “chapel” as a whole. There is no reference to religion in the chapel, but no matter how spiritual or not one is, you cannot fail to be moved by just being there.

The courtyard in front of the Hall of Memory is filled with a narrow pool surrounding the eternal gas flame bubbling up through the water, and high above this are long cloisters containing the Roll of Honour, bronze plaques naming 102,000 Australian servicemen and women who lost their lives in the conflict of war. Artificial poppies are poked in beside many of the names thus creating a decorative picture of what would otherwise be a grim record. The origin of this custom is another story we were told today; I will not spoil your own visit by recounting this here.

When we returned after lunch Chris and I decided to go our separate ways and meet up again at 3.30pm in the foyer, and so we headed off to do our own exploration. It was evident even then that one could spend days and days and even weeks in this museum, however we do have other plans for next month and so after an hour or so, I decided I should not linger in front of every exhibition but more like a “streaker” than a “studier”.

The museum is full of wonderful dioramas, stories, films, paintings, photos, models and everything else a museum might use to educate the masses. I, once a pacifist who stood outside the cinemas showing “The Day After” waving placards back in 1983, had thought this a place worthy of only a glance or two, was very mistaken. Two hours exploration on my own was definitely not going to do it.

The Gallipoli Gallery is particularly good and of course particularly pertinent to the whole museum. The term ANZAC was born here when the combined forces of Australia and New Zealand together with British, Indians and French landed on the Turkish shores of Gallipoli at the wrong time, under terrible conditions and with poor planning. Months of hideous combat and human losses followed, not least the Turks themselves. The losses as recorded in the memorial were as follows: Australians 8,709, New Zealand 2,701, Indian 1,594, French 9,874, British 21,255 and finally Turks 86,700.

As a New Zealander of a certain age I have always had a certain level of understanding of this tragedy of the First World War and all the more poignant, my maternal grandfather having survived a stint there. Young antipodeans on the big OE (overseas experience) flock in their thousands to attend the annual ANZAC service at Gallipoli every 25 April; they should also consider a visit to the museum even if only this one gallery as part of the pilgrimage.

I did particularly enjoy the exhibition where one stands on a vibrating platform, seemingly in a bomber over Germany going through the motions of a bombing, being shot at and escaping by parachute. It reminded me of the weird and wonderful new way of losing weight by standing on a vibrating platform at enormous cost. The weight may not wobble off but the sensation is most enjoyable. I may go back to this exhibit when we resume our exploration of this wonderful museum.

For now we have returned to camp and discovered that the exhibition here at the EPIC centre is the 2012 SOTA trade fair for snow and outdoor gear, very apt for the climate and geography of the area.