WW100: My Turks go off to war, and the first ANZAC troops line up on my workbench
Sam rings me today: "Are you ready for some more Gallipoli models?
A few guys have pulled out, and we have a deadline looming"
"How many have you done ?"
" Ten."
"How many more can you do ?"
" Another Ten."
Silence,
"...or twenty."
More silence
" Maybe thirty... "
Bewildered Turks fleeing a spectre of an ANZAC soldier
So a few quick snaps before these Turks that have been languishing on my workbench go off to Gallipoli and the tender ministrations of Mustapha Khamal.
"How many has Scott done?"
"Fifty ! "
"Fifty ? "
Ok, some ANZACs this time.
Sam realises I am pushed for time, with a friends wedding and stag do to organise (best man at my ripe old age) , family birthdays and on call commitments.
So: Wounded and kneeling ANZACs, and sundry lost or discarded equipment now on my workbench.
Quick flash removal job. Yay! Slice my finger with a scalpel blade.
...That's when you get for being lazy. Get out the dremel.
... Buzzz...flash begone!
Mix Araldite (Yeugh!)
Heads on, leave overnight to cure.
Arrange in sorry looking pile of wounded and kneeling soldiers.
Paint case happens to have bright red splatters of ink from a previous job on it,
Or was it my blood?
Or was it theirs?
Lead soldiers tumbling off balsa blocks...
I think back to this afternoon:
Saw an 88 year old lady in my surgery. Have known her for 15 years. Used to be a keen painter, but she no longer has the energy. Buys the paint and the canvas, but just can't get started.
We always end up talking art or painting. Told her about the WW100 project, showed her a few bits from blogs on my desktop PC.
She gets all choked up. "Such waste, such waste. Thousands of them... Such waste..."
So raw is the wounds of Gallipoli still in the psyche of New Zealanders.
This event has defined our lives, her life,
Such waste. Such waste.
