A week or so ago, my young bloke's school invited parents to join the kids on a trip to the local cemetery, to take part in an ANZAC commemoration the school calls Honour Our Fallen. The kids were asked to talk about a family member who was a Veteran or about an ex-serviceman or woman buried at that cemetery.

They did a wonderful job, solemnly sharing their research and telling of both the Veteran's military service and life outside the armed forces.

It was, at heart, an act of remembrance, our sacred duty. One they discharged with great pride and deep respect.

Today is ANZAC Day, our country's foremost national day of remembrance. We share it, of course, with New Zealand; our two countries' servicemen landing on the beach at Gallipoli side by side as part of the Australian and New Zealand Army Corp, from whose name we take the acronym.

ANZAC Day commemorates that landing and the subsequent months-long battle. The ANZAC Dedication will be recited at War Memorials and ANZAC services around the country today. It reads:

"At this hour, on this day, ANZAC received its baptism of fire and became one of the immortal names in history. We who are gathered here think of the comrades who went out with us to battle but did not return. We feel them still near us in spirit. We wish to be worthy of their great sacrifice. Let us, therefore, once again dedicate ourselves to the service of the ideals for which they died. As the dawn is even now about to pierce the night, so let their memory inspire us to work for the coming of the new light into the dark places of the world."

It is, to my mind, one of the most poignant pieces ever written. It is a message of commemoration and remembrance. But it is more than that. Yes, it asks us to reflect and remember. It speaks of a shared history and a spiritual inheritance. But it also beseeches us to live lives worthy of the sacrifices made by our Veterans – those lost on the battlefield and subsequently from their injuries, and also those who came home irrevocably changed.

It calls on us to take their example and to strive to be better, to do better. That, I think, is not just remembrance as a thought but as an action. It is to honour their memory in our deeds.

Love, they say, is not a feeling but an action. I think the same can and should be true of remembrance. It is, perhaps, the least we can do to be worthy of their sacrifice.

A sacrifice made, time and time again, by thousands of Veterans in the wars that followed. From the beaches at Gallipoli to the trenches of Villers-Bretonneux, and the jungles of Papua New Guinea, to the waters of the Coral Sea. From Kapyong in Korea to the rubber plantations of Vietnam. And Iraq, Afghanistan and many more fields of operations where Australian service personnel served, suffered and died.

All of them gave their youth. Many gave their lives. Many more lived (and live) the rest of their lives with part of them left behind in those battlefields, and those battlefields always a part of them.

They went, because their country asked them to. They served with distinction and valour. They did their duty. And, all too often, they paid a price. Sometimes, the ultimate price.

My father, a Vietnam Veteran and past-President of the Engadine RSL Sub-Branch, was always of the view that we shouldn't thank Veterans for their service; they were doing their duty, and that was enough. But also, he didn't thank those who turned up to ANZAC Day services for the same reason: we were doing our sacred duty in return.

To some, that might sound quaint, strange, or old-fashioned. But then, too often, so is the concept of duty itself.

The best way to honour our Veterans is not to thank them. It is to honour their service and sacrifice in acts of remembrance such as today's services. And to live our lives accordingly.

And so, on April 25, we pause, reflect and remember.

We remember their service. We honour their sacrifice. We pledge to never forget.

They went with songs to the battle; they were young, 

Straight of limb, true of eyes, steady and aglow, 

They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted, 

They fell with their faces to the foe.

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old: 

Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn 

At the going down of the sun and in the morning 

We will remember them.

Lest We Forget