Lest we forget!

It's Anzac Day here in Oz! The march down George Street in downtown Sydney has already been going on for over two hours and I think they are about half way though the units. There is a record turnout of spectators I might add. I am always touched to see the children of "missing" soldiers proudly wearing their grandparents service medals and marching in their proper units alongside his or her former mates.

As an American-born quasi-Aussie it would be remiss of me not to "Remember" (and even say a word on behalf of...) the men and women who gave (and risked) their lives to maintain our national identity and freedom.

Before we moved here to Australia, in December of 1974, I had never even heard of the battle of Gallipolli, the Kakoda Track, and the POW camp at Changi (or the Japanese breakout from the Cowra POW camp for that matter)...what a rich history of sacrifice and service. I honour them all.

Especially today, I am remembering with gratitude, the faithful service of "Fighting Mac McKenzie", a Salvation Army chaplain who served with high honour in both Gallipolli and France. His story, now available in print brought tears to eyes of this "hardened" history buff.

Chaplain Major William McKenzie, MC, (1869-1947) was attached to 4th Battalion, AIF, during the 1914-18 war. He was a man of renowned principle and courage...well known and loved by thousands of frontline soldiers because of his fearless service to them. The troops were the first to refer to him as "Fighting Mac" because of his undefeated prowess in the boxing ring, but his "fight" extended to the salvation of thousands under heavy fire. He was awarded the Military Cross for his personal bravery and spirit of sacrificial service. It was said of Fighting Mac by a contemporary that "Chaplain McKenzie made Christ real to thousands of men. Up and down the fire-swept ridges he followed them, carrying food and water, tramping miles for their mail; by night cutting steps over treacherous patches which the boys must travel in the morning, praying with them, helping them to live, supporting them as they died. Burying literally hundreds of brave lads fallen in battle, he spent far into the night in his dim dugout, writing to their relatives." My favorite story was his baptism of hundreds one day at Anzac Cove during an artillery barrage.

So...Fighting Mac...I thank God for you and your faithful testimony of God's love in the very midst of hell on earth. You are a model to me...I remember you!