Delivered at the Anzac Commemorative Site, Türkiye

Good morning,

• Your Royal Highness the Princess Royal 

• Prime Minister Christopher Luxon

• Your Excellencies 

• Distinguished guests and every one of you here today 

As a proud Australian, the daughter of a veteran, and Australia’s Governor-General, it is an honour to be here to commemorate the 110th anniversary of the Gallipoli landings. 

It is a privilege to join the very many Australians who have travelled here for this historic moment – some of whom I met briefly in Istanbul 2 days ago – just as many thousands of Australians have done over the years – so many of you camping overnight, preparing for the break of day, finding connection with the immense sacrifices made here in our name. 

To the people of Türkiye, who have long welcomed us to this sacred ground, Thankyou - we are grateful for your continued warmth and generosity.

Today, together, with a shared history, we honour our beloved sons, who fought and died in war to afford us peace. 

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In darkness, this landscape is unfamiliar. 

Just as it was to the troops who came ashore at dawn on this day 110 years ago. Just yesterday, at days break, together with my Aide de Camp Captain Katie Higgins, Simeon and I stood at Anzac Cove. As first light arrived, as hard as we tried, it was impossible for us to put ourselves in the boots of those soldiers. The physical reality of what faced them is unfathomable, but we know the story. 

Young men massed on both sides.

All had been called by their nations. In the case of Australia, a nation still in its tender infancy. 

Called To serve.

To fight.

Ultimately, for far too many, to die.

We remember them as exceptional.

And certainly, there were acts of incredible valour – stories of exceptional courage and sacrifice that have resounded for generations. 

But those who fought here, were just like us: the quiet thoughtful mate, the hard worker, the loner, the larrikin and so many of the characters we all recognise.

Look around and you see the same characteristics amongst us today.

For the Anzacs, crossing oceans and hemispheres to the unknown, these brothers, cousins, knockabout mates and countrymen carried with them the hope, humour, energy and certainty of youth, and a deeply felt sense of duty to their country. 

They had travelled great distances both within and beyond Australian shores to reach this place. 

As the days, weeks and months passed, Gallipoli became a familiar terrain of fear, filth and sickness …

… of smoke from the shells and the terrifying crack of bullets …

… and of death.

In their letters home, from this place, they chronicled the horrors of war. 

Their words, and often those they couldn’t write, or didn’t live long enough to complete, reveal the most ordinary of human emotions. 

Fear, longing, and shock at their dire circumstances.

They wrote of the bodies of their fallen brothers, and the names of those who were missing at roll call.

But they also spoke of their care and concern for their mates. And of how much they missed simple pleasures of home and yearned for loved ones.

They wrote poignantly of love, courage, gallantry and sacrifice – often leaving notes, that in the event of their death, their diaries were to find there way to their mothers, wives and families. 

These ordinary men met the most challenging of circumstances in the most extraordinary ways.

Top quietly read the words on their headstone here in the beautifully tendered war graves, is to feel their enormity of their loss.

“only a boy but died as a man for liberty and freedom”

Today, as we remember them, fighting to achieve a victory forever out of reach, we strive to match their service to our nation. That is why, 110 years later, their duty for our country and their care for each other still resonates, and we continue to find strength and meaning in what happened here. 

In the aftermath of Gallipoli and the First World War, loved ones back at home found ways to mourn through a language of commemoration. 

The lament of the Last Post.

The simple and poignant memorials in cities and towns across the country.

The lyric beauty of the Ode.

The scent of rosemary.

Or attending Dawn Services, as we are, where new generations representing the rich modern diversity of Australia now participate in growing numbers. 

Each of these acts of commemoration reflect values that, today, we should all strive to live by; service, care, kindness and respect. Values that were also expressed by Mustafa Kemal Atatürk in his unwavering commitment to embrace our lost sons here on Turkish soil. A sentiment that Australians who visit Türkiye hear wherever they go. 

Those bonds between our lands remain unbroken. The wreath I will lay on behalf of Australians today is woven through with special rosemary we have brought from the Bravery Garden at Government House in Canberra.

Former Governor-General Sir William Deane was inspired to create Australia’s Bravery Garden after his visit to Gallipoli in 1999, when he spoke of bravery as “a tide that flows from the essence of our humanity” – from the values of courage, duty, respect, love, and compassion.

Since then, our bravery garden has celebrated the courage and sacrifice of Australians across our country – civilians and defence personnel – who exemplify the Anzac spirit through selfless acts of care.

Care is what I now see in every part of our country - the spirit of Anzac alive in modern Australia.

That spirit has carried us from 1915 to today, 

… through Australia’s deployment to other theatres of war and in Australia’s participation in vital peacekeeping missions, where we have contributed in every year since 1947.

It is embodied in the service women and men of our Australian Defence Force and in their families, for whom service is a way of life. 

It is also vibrant in our communities more broadly, where we see works of care, kindness and respect performed in the service of others.

And it is in each new generation, where the ANZAC spirit is renewed. 

The monumental loss and terrible sadness of Gallipoli has altered our hearts and minds across generations.

We mourn the horror of war and the loss of so many, and cherish the Anzac story, certain that, in the words of one young Australian,

‘… commemoration can inspire Australia’s potential to be brave and extraordinary …’

What happened here 110 years ago is a constant call, not to arms, but to peace. 

And that is why we will remember them.

Lest we forget.