Anzac's Dirty Dozen Read Online Free PDF Page B

the social, ideological or intellectual need to include Australian women within the Anzac fable, and ageneral refusal to accept Australian military experiences within a global context, will continue the distorted historical representation of female involvement in the nation’s wars. The same sort of thing might be said of the impact of Hollywood imagery, or more agenda-driven interpretations of specific conflicts like Vietnam, which continue to resist or retard detailed and realistic analyses of the experience of Australian troops abroad. As long as Anzac imagery remains heavily focused on ‘diggers’, mud, trenches and bayonets, then the experiences and contributions of those who fought at sea – and in the air for that matter – will remain underrepresented.
    The contemporary Anzac legend has become an idealised representation of the values most of us aspire to, or even imagine we possess simply as part of the label ‘Australian’. It continues to prompt popular interpretations of real historical events that may only have a tenuous connection to fact. The archetypical Anzac is physically imposing, mentally stoic, yet mercurial in spirit. He is rough around the edges, but has an unflappable sense of fair play, natural justice, and deep democratic urges. He fights hard but plays by the rules. He is distinct insofar as he is an eager volunteer with no desire to kill, but rather resigned to do his terrible duty by his nation and his mates. He is not a conscript, for compulsion is too close to reluctance. He is, unfortunately, far too often let down by the incompetence of his military and political leaders. His mistakes, such as they are, are not really his. He may be uneducated and unruly, but he is nonetheless clever. Perhaps he had to be, coming from the bush? He is always white. Essentially masculine, ‘he’ cannot comfortably be a ‘she’ – despite the degree the legend is often twisted in an attempt to make such an accommodation. Those who fail to fit this mould, or fail to celebrate it, run the risk, perhaps, of seeming un-Australian.
    So long as such stereotypes exist, so long as such nonsensedrowns out the more complex and less idealised reality, then deeper understandings of Australians in war, their actions as human beings in extraordinary circumstances, and the purposes, conditions and reasons for their sacrifices, will remain difficult to grasp. The power of such ill-informed imagery has real, identifiable and ongoing effects. The indomitable, glorified Anzac image pushes politicians, policy-makers and the public alike to sprout the flawed preconceptions that Australian troops invariably ‘punch above their weight’. Such chimeras are dangerous foundations for historical interpretation, not to mention contemporary decision-making at all levels.
    At a deep and fundamental level, the power of Anzac and the dominance of military history within the national ‘story’ tends to subordinate, subsume and suffocate the non-military aspects of Australia’s past. And there are many: we were one of the first nations in the world where all men and women had the vote, for example, and we have always enjoyed, in general terms, remarkably high levels of education, health, political and social freedoms, and high standards of living for such a young country. There are countless inspiring and heroic slices of the Australian historical saga that do not require war-oriented myth-making – or its associated exaggeration, sanitation or fabrication. Some readers will find it ironic that the authors of this volume, mainly people who earn a living as military historians or professional historians with at least a passing interest in military affairs, are the first to concede this point. Australia and Australians are far more than the sum of their military past.
    There is no doubt that the myths and misunderstandings addressed in this book fulfil important social needs.