Australian Aoteora Open letter to Nelson

Welcome to Ocean Pond Media’s –

Australian military victories falsely claimed by OTHER COUNTRIES:

Episode 1: Amiens

This is why we can’t have nice things!

Every single war we fight, our names are wiped from the pages of history and replaced with someone else.

Like this Australian victory in 1918 – led by the AIF, with a single division of English troops on the left flank and French soldiers on the right – in support either side of the main thrust led by three Australian Divisions under the leadership of the greatest military mind this side of Genghis Khan – Sir John Monash …

A filthy Australian, and Jewish too so see ya later eh!

It’s the take your pick of who the foreign capital exchange is picking up a pen and writing a bunch of antisemitic racist fairy tales that say the Australian Jew was peripheral, not important, or what is more common just written out completely and replaced with an omission where in place there should be effusive praise and respect for the fallen sons of l’Australie en Aoteora!

Because if you think we’re pissed about our honour, our service, our toil, trouble, heartache, sheer terror and ultimate sacrifice followed by the hardest sentence for hate to be dealt out by the carnage and death, so artificially contrived – all because three cousins and an unstable third attempt at a viable republic chose instead of picking up a pen, getting on a train or a ferry and putting their preening self important egos to one side maybe could have had a pub fight or a decent street brawl or even less – just written each other graphic death threats and claims that they’re sleeping with the other one’s wife or something.

Because cousin George, cousin Niki and little cripple cousin Willie were too hyped up on the rampant opiod epidemic spread throughout the ruling aristocracies of Europe to have been so much in a drug induced state of psychosis that a  6 month stint in long term rehab today would only scratch the surface off the root cause of World War 1 and systematically hidden by everyone and sundry – just like they are hidden away in plain sight throughout each and every one of our fairly broken teetering wreckages of the fading fleeted hope of liberty and decency that all leaders lied to the millions of unknown soldiers who had kissed their wives and girlfriends – and I bet a couple kissed each other because sorry to tell you Izzy my good friend but some blokes just like blokes – and that’s just ok.

Shit, it’s alot more than ok – most gay guys work out more, know how to tune women like a floutist plays a fiddle, earn more than idiots like me and dress better to the point where I’m actually only really very relieved to know that after spending the whole night hangin off fabio the faggot (cos by this time the jealousy has kicked into gear and I’m being petty)- she comes home with you even though you know full well she’s going to have her mind on someone else for most of the equation.

So we have a little pickle of a situation that we as Australians need to put in a decent level of funding, research, writing and finding and digitising every piece of history of our soldiers that your family has lying around the abandoned empty attics, or backsheds – everywhere you cared enough to keep them but not enough to ever look.

All your late father, or grandfather, even great-grandfather – notably their photos, any documents, and most importantly the letters they wrote to their little mrs (and I bet $1 billion more than another fellow Mr) – and send it to my mates mates dad Brendan, who turns it into priceless artefacts to be revered for eternity by a greatful nation that like the little town in northern France that has a very decent and most warmly and effusively appreciated reminder plastered in giant letters just above the school:

Do not forget Australia!

The history pages affording Britain and America victories paid for in Anzac toil, tears and blood need correcting.

This is basically my resume – sent as a media release by an alumni of Macquarie University with an honours degree for writing the best piece of work I ever put together before wasting a good decade playing politics when I should have been busy writing history instead.

So I don’t come to you as any rent seeking aspiring politician with designs on the red or green uphostery and adulating attention

Our history is incomplete and – in many places – written wrongly,  deceptively and sometimes just fictionalised. 

History is a record of events, not a cheerleading competition. The author should not attach the title of bad and good to two groups of people armed with dangerous tools of torment and injustice – it’s a six of one half a dozen of the other situation for the most part.

The imperialist expansionism felt inherently by a nation that feels its  status, wealth and might is such as to deserve more power and territory than they have been afforded and so off to war we go again and again.

We many – we die for the few, who don’t even bother to tell our story of sacrifice, duty and selfless bravery.

Thank them for their service – help Brendan tell their story.

Because our fallen forefathers are serving us still – the Australian War Memorial is our greatest tourist attraction by a country mile.

Age will not weary them, nor the years condemn.

They shall never grow old.

And at the going down of the sun and in the morning, we will remember them.

Lest we forget.

Next episode: El Alamein