It was dawn on Thursday, April 25 when Numurkah locals first began to congregate — a handful at first, then a few dozen, then hundreds.
Enveloped in darkness, they waited.
As soon as Numurkah RSL senior vice-president Gerard Watson arrived on the podium, all attention was front and centre.
His opening words sliced through the silence.
“We assemble here at this bleak hour for the 2024 Anzac Day dawn service,” he said.
“It’s been 109 years since our Anzac troops landed at Gallipoli, many making the supreme sacrifice.
“May their souls rest in peace.”
Mr Watson called upon local primary and secondary school students to share their remembrance sentiments before guest speaker Jeff Buzza spoke of his service.
He enlisted in the Army Reserve Unit, the Melbourne University regiment, in August 1977.
At that time, Australia had only been out of Vietnam for four years.
“I’m one of the lucky generation of soldiers,” he said.
“In my 12 years of service, Australia did not take part in any armed conflicts.”
As an infantry soldier, he and his troop did all the “normal” things — weapons training, throwing hand grenades and setting trip flares.
“We were even trained in what to do in the case of a nuclear attack ... lay as low on the ground as you can, then go on fighting till you die of radiation poisoning,” he said.
This newfound skill set led to his promotion to Lance Corporal Buzza, earning him command of an infantry unit.
He even had the privilege of meeting Lieutenant Colonel Ernest Edward ‘Weary’ Dunlop.
“If we could all be a little like him, the world would be a better place,” he said.
Meeting one of the most famous Australian World War II veterans would surely be the crowning glory of his time in the army.
But for Lance Corporal Buzza, the highlight of his 12-year duty was his pillars of strength — his mates.
During his service, he and his fellow soldiers sat in a network of watery dugouts on gun picket.
They watched and waited in rain, wind and faux war, morning and night, their bellies to the battlefield.
“I know how my service bonds me to those men, I can only imagine how those on active service feel bonded to their mates,” he said.
“We stood on the line, took our service seriously, and remained a lucky generation of soldiers.
“I can only hope that all future generations of Australian soldiers are just as lucky.”
After the speeches, those present were invited to place a poppy on the cenotaph until it was decorated in a lustre of red, symbolising the blood of the fallen soldiers and their sacrifice that will never die.
The masses fell silent as The Last Post rang out, followed by echoes of “Lest we forget”.
Darkness gradually gave way to sunlight, the service concluded and the crowd dispersed from the heart of the town.
They will go about their day freely, but after the lasting impact of this morning’s remembrance, doing so will not be taken for granted.