Generally our local RSL organises an Anzac March on the Sunday before the actual day so that their members can participate locally and then go off for the big Anzac day march in Melbourne.

Yesterday, as I always do, I slipped up to stand in the crowd to applaud those servicemen, who get sparser every year, as they march ever so proudly through our business area to the Cenotaph for the remembrance service.

And, darn it, I always get misty eyed when I stand and watch those brave old soldiers go past and give thanks to them and the countless others who served so that we could live in peace and freedom in this great country of ours.

But yesterday was even more special.

We had two of our early teenage granddaughters staying with us so I hustled them into the car and took them with me to watch the march.

And I was so glad I did because, as we stood and waited for the march to go past, we talked together on what is was all about and what it meant. Now sure they probably had heard that many times at school but this time it was them and grandad, me, just talking. So they asked me questions they might never ask and I shared thoughts I might never share. And, darn it, I get misty eyed just thinking about those few beaut, meaningful moments the three of us shared together.

And it was good. An Anzac day I’ll never forget!

And I do love the sound of the bagpipes and here they are at our local Anzac march yesterday. Does your heart good doesn’t it?