ANZAC DAY REFLECTIONS BY A FORMER DIRECTOR OF MUSIC NAVY
- Phillip Anderson

- Apr 16
- 6 min read
Updated: Apr 23

On ANZAC Day, we traditionally commemorate those, especially the fallen, who served before us in past conflicts. As we approach the 110-year Anniversary of the landing of the Australian and New Zealand Army Corps at Gallipoli, it is appropriate that we review the reasons why we commemorate ANZAC Day and what it means to us as a nation and as individuals.
Between 25 April 1915 and 9 January 1916 men from Australia, New Zealand, the United Kingdom, France and other countries fought a fierce and ultimately unsuccessful campaign to capture the strategically important Gallipoli Peninsula, capture Constantinople and knock Turkey out of the war. As a former naval officer, when I commemorate ANZAC Day, I also reflect on the little-known story of HMAS AE2 and the Royal Australian Navy Bridging Train. Navy was in fact the 'first in and last out' of the Australian forces at Gallipoli:
The submarine HMAS AE2 began her passage of the Dardanelles before the ANZAC landings commenced; and the Royal Australian Navy Bridging Train departed after Anzac Cove had been evacuated.
It has often been said that Australia came of age on that morning some 14 years after Federation. That may be true and perhaps that is why we hold the day in such high regard in our national calendar. It certainly is not a day to celebrate a great military victory. In fact, it was a military disaster from any viewpoint; except for the well-planned and successful evacuation, which followed some eight months later. The final count of the dead was 250,000 of which 10,000 were ANZAC troops.
However, it is just not Gallipoli we remember on ANZAC Day; nor is it even the First World War. ANZAC Day is a day set aside for us to collectively give thanks to all those men and women who put their lives in harm's way and in many cases paid the supreme sacrifice. Those men and women did not start the wars in which they were involved; they were fighting on behalf of all the people of Australia. What they did was to offer their very existence when they were told that their country needed them.
More completely, ANZAC Day is a day to commemorate the bravery and self-sacrifice of past and present generations. It is a day to acknowledge the selflessness of all those who have been prepared to lay down their lives for Australia so that we can live in freedom. So, on this ANZAC Day we thank and recognise those who served in the first and second world wars, Korea, Malaya, Vietnam and more recently, Cambodia, Somalia, Rwanda, the Persian Gulf and Afghanistan.
As a former Director of Music Navy, it is appropriate that I acknowledge the Royal Australian Navy Band for its proud record of service to the nation, and it is worthwhile reiterating some examples of that service. On 5 August 1914, when war was declared, HMAS Australia sailed with orders to seek out the German Pacific Fleet: our musicians were utilised as medical attendants onboard Australia during the Great War.
During WWII, our musicians served with distinction in HMA Ships in all theatres of war. They worked as gun crews, shell bearers in magazines, in transmitting stations, as first aid parties and as lookouts through day and night watches. Our musicians were among those unfortunate sailors who lost their lives in HMA Ships Perth, Australia, Penguin, Canberra and Sydney. A particular point of reflection can be noted in Kathryn Spurling’s Cruel Conflict:
Few men attended more burials than Ordinary Seaman Elmo Gee. Playing these days was restricted to the haunting melancholy lament ‘The Last Post’. Gee would play that 1500 times—one day he played it 33 times.
Ordinary Seaman Gee was Perth’s bugler. As a prisoner of War, he laboured on the infamous Burma-Siam Railway.
Navy’s musicians also saw action onboard the carrier HMAS Sydney in Korean waters in 1953, and a total of 172 musicians served onboard HMA Ships Sydney and Melbourne during the Vietnam conflict—the musicians from these two ships also performed separate concert tours of South Vietnam in 1970. Many of Navy’s current generation of musicians served in the Persian Gulf as part of Operation Falconer, Operation Catalyst and Operation Slipper. On ANZAC Day we give thanks to all of those musicians.

ANZAC Day is not a day for honouring war; for war is not something to be honoured. War is something that is used by a nation as a last resort to safeguard its sovereignty when diplomacy has failed. We do however, on ANZAC Day, honour all of the people of Australia who have undertaken warfare to protect that sovereignty, no matter how distasteful it may have been to them personally and in spite of the risk of losing their lives. To them, on ANZAC Day, we say:
Be proud of what you have done, as we are proud of you. Parade yourselves confident in the knowledge that your deeds are appreciated by the Australians for whom you served, no matter which of Australia's battles you have fought. You have helped create a tradition which our relatively young nation can display with honour in any company. We thank you for all of this.

But as we reflect on all of the conflicts in which Australians have been involved, and the many incredibly dangerous situations faced by our defence forces in other operational deployments, one thing clearly stands out—mateship is at the heart of what we refer to as the ANZAC values: it drives loyalty, courage, endurance and sacrifice. It is a compelling reason for most acts of heroism and is a powerful motivator in our nation’s psyche.
The ANZAC Spirit as ‘noble and selfless service to our nation’, and there is no finer example of noble and selfless service than that shown by Ordinary-Seaman Edward (Teddy) Sheean.
On 1 December 1942, HMAS Armidale was attacked by Japanese aircraft whilst enroute to Timor and had to be abandoned. As the crew was abandoning ship, the Japanese began machine-gunning survivors in the water. When he saw this, Teddy Sheean, though himself wounded, manned the aft 20 mm Oerlikon gun and began shooting at the attacking aircraft. He shot one down and damaged two others. Sheean remained at the gun and continued to engage the enemy aircraft even as the ship went down.
Teddy Sheean gave up his chance to escape and died trying to save his mates. As Armidale took her final plunge, witnesses saw an arc of tracer rounds going up from Teddy’s gun as the hot barrel hissed into the water. If ever a little ship died fighting, then Armidale was that ship; and it was this teenage boy who brought undying fame to his little ship at the cost of his young life. But he did not die thinking of fame. He gave his life for his friends.
What does the example of Teddy Sheean teach succeeding generations of young Australians? The Navy honoured him by naming a submarine after him—the only submarine ever named after an ordinary sailor in any navy. Perhaps what young Teddy teaches us all, young and old, is, “it’s not all about me!”. He was an ordinary seaman, and an ordinary Australian who performed an extraordinary act.
Mateship has never been the exclusive preserve of our defence forces. Whenever Australians are called upon to assist, mateship comes to the fore. We see it in our fire fighters and emergency services teams, in our vast band of community volunteers, our medical staff, our police and many others who respond to those in need.
Perhaps most of all, ANZAC Day is a celebration of ordinary people who have done extraordinary things. When you parade on ANZAC Day, reflect upon the opportunities and freedoms bequeathed to us by our forebears; they would be comforted in knowing that we, and the people of Australia, remember and honour their sacrifice. But we can take the act of commemoration to an even higher place by following their example—by committing ourselves to lead lives worthy of their sacrifice by looking after our shipmates and our fellow citizens as well as we are able. This is the test of humanity, which will make us worthy of our inheritance. And in this way, we can renew our pledge of nationhood in honouring those who served and suffered or died. The ANZAC values serve to shape Who We Are and What We Stand For.
In conclusion, I would like to quote a few lines from ‘A Sonnet for ANZAC Day’ by Alf Woods:
Sound the Last Post, lest we forget the freedom that we cherish has been bought - not found like mushrooms in the field; the debt is ours to pay, mindful of those who fought and fell - yet still they held the torch aloft! Sound the Last Post to hold the memory bright, then sound the Reveille and keep the torch alight.




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