ANZAC Day 2025

This was written by my cousin XR Fivefivethree in memory of all those brave souls who put on the uniform and fought. Lest We Forget. Lets remember them every day not just on ANZAC Day RIP John Cornelius Hunt.

"This is a photo of Poppa Hunt, my great-grandfather. He fought bravely in the Battle of Bullecourt and was seriously injured, losing an eye in the fighting. He witnessed firsthand the tragedy and horrors of war — experiences that deeply shaped his staunch political views for the rest of his life.

One family story recalls how, upon arriving in Egypt, the soldiers — fed up with poor conditions and mistreatment — threw rotting potatoes at their officers. It was an early act of defiance that reflected the frustration many felt with the command.

In one haunting moment during the war, he heard the whistle of a falling bomb — and in an instant, all of his mates were gone. Later, desperate for water, he reached into a bomb crater to take a drink, only to realise it was filled with water… and the body of a fallen soldier. Those kinds of experiences stay with a person forever.

The Battle of Bullecourt, fought in April and May 1917, saw Australian troops take on the heavily fortified German Hindenburg Line. The conditions were brutal, the planning was flawed, and the cost was devastating — over 7,000 Australians were killed or wounded.

As Charles Bean wrote:

“Bullecourt, more than any other battle, shook the confidence of Australian soldiers in the capacity of the British command; the errors, especially on April 10th and 11th, were obvious to almost everyone.”

After the war, Poppa Hunt returned home and ran sustenance camps for the Forest Commission. He would ride his bike from Bealiba to Kurting to mark sleepers for the railways — serving his community with quiet resilience and purpose.

He always donated to the Salvation Army, in gratitude for the small kindnesses that meant so much during the war. “The Army wouldn’t give you socks,” he’d say, “but the Salvos would.” It was something he never forgot.

This photo proudly hung in Big Nan’s kitchen for many years — a daily reminder of Poppa Hunt’s service, strength, and sacrifice.

Thanks to Daryl Hunt for sharing some of the family history that helps keep his memory alive.

Poppa Hunt, like so many others, showed incredible courage in the face of chaos. We remember him, and all who served, with deep respect and gratitude.

Lest we forget."

John Cornelius Hunt 1916

Battle of Bullecourt

In Flanders Fields

By John McCrae

In Flanders fields the poppies blow

Between the crosses, row on row,

    That mark our place; and in the sky

    The larks, still bravely singing, fly

Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago

We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,

    Loved and were loved, and now we lie,

        In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:

To you from failing hands we throw

    The torch; be yours to hold it high.

    If ye break faith with us who die

We shall not sleep, though poppies grow

         In Flanders fields.