Dorrigo stood at the side of the stage, hidden from the eager crowd. He knew that the crowd was anticipating his speech, a speech from a hero. As Dorrigo looked down to his hand written notes; most of what he had written were lies. What was a hero, Dorrigo did not know but everyone seemed to assume that he was one, but he knew that there were better men than him on the Line, yet he was the one in the spotlight. He was no hero; he was a failure by his and Australia’s society.
A round of applause shook the room and Dorrigo realised that his name had been called. Quickly brushing over his notes Dorrigo walked onto the stage with a large smile and waving to the crowd. As he looked over the faces in the crowd, Dorrigo knew that they would take anything he said as gospel, it was a strange position for him to be in, as he knew that he was nothing more than a figurehead of the war heroes, yet he was not one of them. He knew that many good men had done good things during the war, far greater than him yet the country had latched onto Dorrigo and made him into some larger than life man who could not possibly exist. As he moved up to the lectern, a rush of adrenaline passed through him and as the applause died down to a murmur, Dorrigo started to speak.
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It is an important day and one that should be remembered and celebrated, but also a day that we should mourn and grieve for it is through our memory of this horrific war that we can move forward and make sure that no more wars on this scale of devastation and destruction ever occur