At a country dawn service last year, I stood shoulder to shoulder with Vietnam War mates, the Southern Cross above and a wooden Cross glowing in the half-light. As the bugle sounded for fallen Diggers, the pastor read of another sacrifice—Christ on the hill of Golgotha, giving all for love. Two stories, one truth: sacrifice defines us. Easter and ANZAC Day aren't just dates; they're the soul of Australia, forged in blood and faith at Gallipoli, Kokoda, and beyond. Those blokes who stormed the cliffs or held the line didn't just fight for mates—they carried a Christian spirit that said some things are worth dying for. Today, that legacy's under fire. Woke revisionists and secular elites want to rewrite our history, ditch our faith, and turn Australia into a rootless shadow. Easter's our chance to say no—to honour the Cross and the Diggers by fighting for the nation they built.
Look back to 1915. Gallipoli's cliffs were hell—bullets, mud, and mates dropping left and right. Yet the ANZACs pushed on, driven by courage and something deeper. Diaries from the trenches tell it plain: blokes clutched rosaries, whispered psalms, or heard chaplains pray as shells fell. Faith wasn't a footnote; it was their anchor. Fast forward to Kokoda, Vietnam, or Afghanistan—same story. The Cross wasn't just a symbol; it was the why behind their grit. Christ's sacrifice on Golgotha, dying for others, echoed in every Digger who laid down his life for king, country, and mate. That's no coincidence. Australia's soul was shaped by Christian values—duty, love, standing firm. It's why our war memorials carry crosses, why "Lest We Forget" feels like a prayer. Easter and ANZAC aren't separate; they're twin pillars of who we are, built on the idea that sacrifice makes us stronger.
But that legacy's taking hits. Secularism's on the march, stripping faith from public life like it's a dirty secret. Schools barely mention the Cross anymore—Easter's a bunny-fest, not a holy day. ANZAC's not safe either. Some academics call it "glorified defeat," sneering at the Diggers' courage while pushing tales that divide us by race or class. In Melbourne, councils have banned crosses at war memorials—too "divisive," they reckon. The ABC's worse, giving airtime to every cause but the Christian roots of our war stories. Then there's the slow bleed of multiculturalism, where we're told to celebrate every identity except the one that bled at Gallipoli. It's not just history they're after; it's our soul. If we let them erase the link between Easter's faith and ANZAC's pride, we're not just forgetting mates—we're losing the values that made Australia a nation worth fighting for.
The good news? Aussies don't quit. From Darwin to Dubbo, patriots are holding the line. RSL clubs pack out for ANZAC services, where prayers still ring out despite the naysayers. In Toowoomba, a church teamed up with veterans to run Easter-ANZAC events, teaching kids about both crosses—Golgotha's and the battlefield's. Picture a Vietnam vet named Bluey, weathered but fierce. He's at his grandkids' school, telling tales of mates and miracles in the jungle, slipping in a word about the God who got him through. That's the spirit—ordinary blokes and women keeping the flame alive. It's not just nostalgia; it's a stand for the Australia our Diggers died for.
You can stand with them. This Easter, hit an ANZAC-themed church service—plenty of RSLs and parishes run them. Take the kids, tell them why the Cross and the slouch hat matter. Teach them the stories: Jesus rising, Diggers charging, both defying the odds. Call out the woke rot—write to your MP when they try banning crosses or watering down ANZAC Day. Back pollies who'll defend our heritage, not sell it for votes. Fly the flag, literally or not, at home or the footy. Support vets' groups and churches that keep the faith—drop a few bucks or your time. This isn't about reliving the past; it's about fighting for a future where sacrifice still means something. Every step you take honours the Cross and the Diggers, keeping their spirit alive in a world that'd rather forget.
This Easter, let's look from Golgotha to Gallipoli and see what binds us. Christ's sacrifice lit a fire—hope through pain, life through death. The ANZACs carried that fire, giving all for a nation rooted in faith. Today, we're their heirs, and the fight's ours. Imagine an Australia where Easter rings out unashamed, where ANZAC Day's a sacred vow, not a debate. Picture kids learning the truth—of a Saviour and soldiers who showed us what love looks like. That's the nation worth building. So grab the Cross, salute the Southern Cross, and stand tall as patriots. The woke mob can't break us—not if we remember what's worth dying for. This Easter, let's honour every sacrifice and keep Australia true. Lest we forget.