24/04/2026
ANZAC DAY
We’ll be open from 12 noon this ANZAC Day.
I’ve been thinking a lot about this one. And it's only been released today because we don't want to capitalise on something so sacred. The service. The sacrifice. However, we must remember them, and this is my way of doing this in 2026.
That man in these photos is my grandfather.
Same name. Same blood. A man I grew up around, but only ever really understood in pieces. He never spoke much about his service.
Like a lot of them, the important parts stayed quiet.
I knew he’d been in the Army.
I couldn't imagine him being a secret agent in Vietnam, or leading the search for the Harold Holt Bolt; Australia's most innocuous faux pas as a prime minister.
None of that is what I remember most, though.
I remember sitting with him.
I remember the way he carried himself.
I remember the stories he would tell (in a hushed voice about mates, about moments, about the absurdity that somehow sits alongside hardship.
And I remember wanting to be like him, long before I understood what that actually meant.
ANZAC Day, for me, sits somewhere in that space.
It’s not just about the history we’re taught.
It’s about the people we knew.
The ones who came back, and the ones who didn’t.
The quiet strength. The humour. The things that don’t fit neatly into ceremony.
Even the small, ridiculous moments—like stuffing something up so badly in training that you’re carrying a teddy bear around for a week as a grown man.
At the time it feels like the end of the world.
Looking back, it’s part of the story.
And that’s what stays.
This year, we’ll have a few things happening—some music, a chance to sit, have a drink, and talk if you feel like it.
If you’ve served, or you carry that in your family, we’ll look after you.
That part matters.
We’ll also pass a hat around for the RSL.
It’s a small gesture, but it’s something.
Mostly though, it’s about taking a moment.
To remember.
To listen.
To share the stories—especially the ones that don’t get written down.
Because without those people, and what they carried, none of what we have now exists.
