ANZAC Day 2023

Today in New Zealand and Australia, it is ANZAC day. It is a day of remembrance for Kiwis and Aussies who lost their lives or fought in WWI and WWII. It’s a day for us to pay our respects to men, women and animals who gave us a chance to have the life and world they were dreaming of to be possible to have with no wars. I try to write a poem every year as a way of paying my respects to them.

ANZACs

By Freya A Hatfield

Covered in mud and out in all weathers, hot or cold, it never stopped us from finding peace.

We kept walking, talking, doing what we could to keep our morale up, 

talking about loved ones back home of dreams we had for after the war had ended.

We’d make up games to help keep thoughts of what we had seen away

and told jokes to keep the tension as light as we could for when dark days came.

They came often and frequently every time we lost a brother or sister it was a dark day,

Most days, we lost a comrade or two; it never got easier, but it made us want peace more,

for the war to end, so we didn’t lose more brothers and sisters than we had to.

Letters were sent home to mothers, fathers, wives, girlfriends, younger brothers, sisters,

waiting to hear if their loved ones were still alive.

Most of the time, when it was good news, someone else down the street would get bad news.

If we could fight, we would; if injuries were too far gone, we would have to rest,

it was hard watching your friends go off without you, 

knowing that when you had recovered, some of them would be gone.

The hardest part of the wars was losing our animals, 

watching them go alongside us, especially with them not knowing why,

not knowing what was happening and being killed in the line of fire.

Being wounded, in pain and not able to carry on,

we got more animals, but once you had made a bond,

it was hard to move on; that was something we just had to do.

If we were lucky, we would be given leave to see loved ones back home,

it was a little reprieve, but it wasn’t easy,

even away from war, we weren’t away from it.

We’d think about our brothers and sister still on the frontline, 

to those who were being wounded or killed.

It made us want to help them more and made us want the war to be over.

Fighting never got easier killing someone's son, brother, husband or father,

it never felt good, never felt right and was never something any of us wanted to do.

We were told it was them or us who survive; we, of course, wanted to survive,

knowing their loved ones would be getting letters like our own, which was hard.

Knowing they, like our brothers and sisters; wouldn’t make it home wasn’t easy.

War is never easy; once it had ended and those of us lucky enough to be reunited

with our loved ones, never spoke of what we had done, seen or gone through.

We were left with scares and painful, unforgettable memories,

the slightest sound could send us back to the battlefield,

the sight and smell of blood is a sight you never wish anyone to see.

When asked questions, we were made out to be heroes, legends,

the best people there could be.

In reality, we were just like everyone else, 

we wanted peace, a place where our children could be children,

and not running away from bombs or hiding and wearing gas masks for protection.

We didn’t want to tell them stories of what we had seen happening to other children.

We simply didn’t want to be a part of what was happening to others,

we wanted to protect them, to protect our own.

We fought because we had no choice; we fought because if we didn’t, 

then we wouldn’t have peace; we wouldn’t have those we care about.

Today is a day for remembering those we lost,

it’s also a day for remembering how hard it was for those who survived.

For those who lived with scars none of us today can imagine,

stories that none of us could ever tell firsthand.

Men and women whose lives were changed far more than any of ours will be,

memories last and die when they die, they take what they saw with them,

few talked of the harder days and very few spoke of what they saw.

When we think of them, we think of heroes, legends and people to look up to,

we don’t think of what they had to deal with, the pain they felt,

the thought of taking another person's life to save their own.

We don’t think of the outcome of what that did to them, 

we don’t think of the shell shock they had later in life.

They are heroes, they were also men and women who were so much more.

Sons, daughters, brothers, sisters, fathers, mothers, 

allies for those who needed them, protectors, saviours, people who took lives, 

but also people who wanted both sides ultimately, to be at peace.

It can be difficult for us to talk about past soldiers in a light that doesn’t praise them, that doesn’t show them as being heroes. What we must remember is that as much as they were our heroes they were another person's enemy; whether rightly or wrongly. They went to war because at the time they had no choice. Governments worldwide had one thing in mind and one thing only and that was to fight. To protect their people again, whether rightly or wrongly. 

With both of these world wars, I think they would hope that we in the future for them but now for us, would learn from what they went through, from the pain, the bloodshed and the lives lost of not only those on the frontline but in cities, towns and villages that were being bombed. 

Fighting isn’t the answer, no one life is any less important than our own, and this world is big enough for all of us. We just need to find a way to live together in peace. We don’t have to agree on everything, but we also don’t need to fight when we don’t agree. One person's view isn’t any more important than another's. We can have opinions that differ and we can be different to our neighbours, but we don’t need to fight over whose opinion is more accountable or accepted.

I feel for those in WWI and WWII who didn’t want to fight, who didn’t want to take another person's life, but did because they had no other choice. I feel for those whose families didn’t want them to fight but let them go because they had no other choice. I hope today makes you think about them, about their families/relatives and about how lucky we are to live in the time we live in where we can feel mostly safe with where we live.

Thank you for reading this post, I hope you have a good day

Love 

Freya A Hatfield x

Changing Seasons

By Freya Anastasia Hatfield

The days are changing, getting shorter, the nights grow longer and colder, 

the need for wrapping up warm becomes more evident.

Wearing socks on a night and a big jumper shows how the season is changing, 

shorts and singlets will soon be a distant memory,

 the Summer heat will soon become a dream.

Days of 15 degrees will become a new reality, 

days stuck inside while the rain pours, 

keeping plants and trees alive before the harsh heat of Summer will once again return. 

Nights of 4 degrees, wind howling, trees rustling, 

thunder banging and lightning crashing as the endless storms roll on overhead, 

while you lie in a warm bed, listening to the music of the night.

The cold you know won’t last long, but while its here, 

you can’t help but hope soon for the warmth,

 the beach days and late nights outside, with loved ones around.

For now, you settle with, movie days, game days,

hot chocolate and warm comfort food while you pass the time, 

in the coming months of shorter days, longer colder night.

Calming of The Ocean part 3

It never mattered where she went or how long she took off working in her cafe, leaving it in the hands of the people she trusted the most, the people who had raised her. She somehow always found her way to the sea, she would never intend on being anywhere near the water, but somehow that's where she still ended up. It was, in fact, the place she met her dark man. She was in one of her first competitions, the first one she had done at a national level. He had been invited to be apart of the photography team, even though he was young and still in his final year of school. He had already been awarded the highest scholarship for his knowledge, the talent he had already shown to the industry, and the array of work he'd been credited for in the short three years he had been taking photos for his photography class.

He was standing on the shoreline when she took her first wave; he couldn't take his lense off of her; he was captivated by her skill. His breath was taken away by how this petite pale bodied girl could control this whale of a body of water around her with such ease.

They had been living together for three years; even after copious amounts of hours spent together; she was still his favourite subject to photograph. When he wasn't on a shoot or out in the middle of nowhere taking photos like her dad used to, he would join her on a surfing trip. Over the past few years, he had started to take an interest in surfing. He had the best teacher though he didn't have nearly the same amount of talent. Most of the time, he spent trying to surf was spent falling into the deep blue infinity below him. Much like the feeling, his porcelain girl felt every time she looked into his electric blue eyes a rare but beautiful contrast with his dark skin. Even after the hundredth time of paddling out and getting his balance the second, a wave came even one that had barely formed glided under his board he was off it headfirst crashing into the icy blast that awaited him. A feeling he had got used to though every time it still seemed to send a sense of shock through his skin, as goose pimples rose, and his hairs stood on end.