We stand here at the memorial to our fallen soldiers to 
						remember.
 To remember our loss and pay tribute to its legacy.
 
						Unlike other forces, our soldiers were not forced to 
						march but chose to walk – an army of volunteers.
						Pozieres was a bloody and brutal battle. A military 
						success - our soldiers captured the village and held it 
						but success came at a terrible cost. More Australians 
						were lost in eight weeks of fighting in France than 
						during 8 months on Gallipoli.
						They volunteered to serve despite the risk, the 
						greatest risk of them all.
						Two brothers, Goldy and Alec Raws, epitomise this 
						volunteer spirit.
						Goldy enlisted early and served at Gallipoli. 
						When their father the Reverend John Raws discovered 
						that his other son Alec was also looking to enlist, he 
						wrote to him pleading to reconsider.
						The Reverend was acutely aware of the toll war was 
						taking on other families back home.
						Alec would hear nothing of it.
						Writing to his father, he explained his decision 
						simply: “I do not think that I was ever a great man for 
						heroics but I do believe that there are some things 
						worth more than life.”
						Both Alec and Goldy Raws would serve in the 23rd 
						Battalion here at Pozieres and Mouquet Farm.
						On July 23, when the Australian forces moved on 
						Pozieres, Goldy Raws was amongst the first push as the 
						Australians captured the town.
						A victory that allowed the British forces to also 
						make gains.
						But the Australians were now a high and easy target 
						for German artillery.
						The bombardment suffered by the Australians over the 
						next few days was some of the most severe of the entire 
						First World War.
						Australia’s official historian Charles Bean described 
						it: “The shelling at Pozieres did not merely probe the 
						character and nerve; it laid them stark naked as no 
						other experience of the AIF ever did. In a single tour 
						of this battle, divisions were subjected to greater 
						stress than in the whole of the Gallipoli campaign.”
						Australian men had volunteered to walk in to hell.
						While many were blind to the reality of what they 
						would face, when they finally saw the horror they stared 
						it down with unbending resolve.
						Alec arrived at Pozieres to join the fighting and his 
						brother on the 29 of July.
						He could not wait to be reunited with Goldy, who he 
						had not seen since he had left for war more than a year 
						earlier.
						Tragically the first news he heard of his brother was 
						he had been listed as missing in action the day before.
						Like many in the first few days of the offensive, 
						Goldy could not be found and had not returned to the 
						trenches.
						With his brother at the front of his mind, Alec along 
						with his fellow Australians would bear the full brunt of 
						the German guns in the next few days.
						He wrote in a letter home: “The horrors one sees and 
						the never-ending shock of the shells is more than can be 
						borne. Hell must be a home to it. The Gallipoli veterans 
						here say that the peninsula was a happy picnic to this 
						push... I have had much luck and kept my nerve so far. 
						The awful difficulty is to keep it. The bravest of all 
						often lose it. Courage does not count here. It is all 
						nerve... Poor wounded devils you meet on the stretchers 
						are laughing with glee. One can not blame them. They are 
						getting out of this.”
						For two weeks amidst the shelling, the Australians 
						moved by night to avoid detection from German artillery 
						spotters.
						They fought off German counter-attacks and 
						successfully held their ground.
						All the time Alec remained hopeful of finding news of 
						his brother and wrote to his father that the constant 
						moving along the line to avoid the shelling might be the 
						only reason he had not received it.
						As his battalion pressed towards Mouquet Farm, he 
						wrote: “I write of him coldly and without emotion, 
						because, Father, it is impossible that one give way to 
						the expression of grief just now. And I do trust that 
						you and Mother, should good news not have reached you, 
						will be able to sustain yourselves.”
						It was Alec’s last letter home.
						Four days later the German bombardment took him and 
						several others with a single shell.
						Goldy and Alec Raws, like the 6,727 other Australians 
						who died around Pozieres, saw the need to serve as 
						something larger than themselves.
						They were of a generation where sacrifice had no 
						bounds.
						We gather here to remember Goldy and Alec and an army 
						of volunteers.
						They did not consider themselves heroes. But their 
						quality, conduct and actions belie this.
						They left their homes.
						They left their families, friends and loved ones.
						They left their futures.
						Heaven bound having been to hell and back.
						They stepped forward to serve, to volunteer.
						It is a legacy today that we still treasure – the 
						willingness to put oneself forward at a time of need, a 
						resolve to offer oneself freely no matter what the cost, 
						to do the job required.
						It is why we remember here at Pozieres today not only 
						the hell encountered, or the heroics achieved but the 
						legacy.
						That there was a generation that bestowed on us a 
						belief - that there is a need to give of ourselves for 
						our community and for our nation.
						It is this humility to serve and legacy left that we 
						commemorate.
						Lest we forget.