"Wake up," I heard, half-asleep. I opened one eye. My grandparents were getting up and dressed. "We have to hurry." Grandpa said. So I did. When I was getting dressed, I remembered why we got up at 5 in the morning.
It was Anzac Day. We scrambled to the car fully dressed, and sped off. We got good parking, too. We raced over to where the memorial was held. It was hard to find a spot. There was so many people. I was surprised to see so many people my age there. I guess today was special for them as well. Soon we found a good spot to stand, and waited. The memorial was very cool. I wasn't bored a bit.
We sung quite a few times, listened to what the people had to say, and then it concluded with a one-minute silence. But besides all the intricate detail in the ceremony, I still got the main message. In case you haven't figured it out, it was to remember those who fought and died for us in Gallipoli. I'll remember them. Will you?