Woke early but still had 8 hours sleep! YAY!
Dressed in clothes to work at the Anzac Memorial Service site at Pine Mountain. Left home and the first stop was for fuel.
After filling the car had a great view of my destination and the weather was dicey!
drove to The Cricket Pitch, Pine Mountain Road, Pine Mountain, a beautiful creational area that has been the hub of the Pine Mountain area since settlement, and an indigenous gathering area for many years before.
Upon arrival at The Cricket Pitch, the work was in furious pace putting up marquees, fences and signs. The World War 1 memorial looked immaculate.
Then went off and got changed at a friends place and came back with the food.
The service then proceeded, with a large crowd gathered, surpassing expectations, and the respects were paid to the 13 residents that gave their lives.
During the service, the boy given the task of playing the “Last Post” and the “Rouse” ran out of puff during the “Rouse”, but a job well done. BZ!!
The two most poignant parts of the service for me are the poem “For the Fallen”:
With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children
England mourns for her dead across the sea,
Flesh of her flesh they were, spirit of her spirit,
Fallen in the cause of the free.
Solemn the drums thrill: Death august and royal
Sings sorrow up into immortal spheres,
There is music in the midst of desolation
And glory that shines upon our tears.
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.
They mingle not with their laughing comrades again,
They sit no more at familiar tables of home,
They have no lot in our labour of the daytime,
They sleep beyond England’s foam.
But where our desires and hopes profound,
Felt as a well-spring that is hidden from sight,
To the innermost heart of their own land they are known
As the stars are known to the night.
As the stars shall be bright when we are dust,
Moving in marches upon the heavenly plain,
As the stars that are starry in the time of our darkness,
To the end, to the end, they remain.
– Written by Robert Laurence Binyon (1869-1943)
Also, of course, Psalm 23:
The LORD Is My Shepherd
A Psalm of David.
The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want.
He makes me lie down in green pastures.
He leads me beside still waters.
He restores my soul.
He leads me in paths of righteousness for his name’s sake.
Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil, for you are with me;
your rod and your staff, they comfort me.
You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies;
you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life,
and I shall dwell in the house of the LORD forever.
After the service and morning tea, it was time to pack up, after changing. Once packed went back to the friend’s place and had a rest, before heading off with tools to repair the fence at Borallon Station Road. The strands proved to be too difficult to repair with my limited knowledge of fencing, so photos were taken to be forwarded to TMR for their attention, plus ideas to reduce the incidence.
The drove to Blacksoil and purchased lunch and then to Muirlea to find the original alignment of the Brisbane Valley Rail crossing of the Warrego Highway, prior to the underpass being constructed.
A Google satellite view alluded to a possible site, with the old alignment a few hundred metres to the west.
Armed with this information, walked down the BVRT to the southern deviation point. At this location, pieces of rail infrastructure were found and the alignment seen along a curved boundary fence. Walked along the BVRT boundary of this property and upon a short walk along Dorman Lane found where the alignment met Dorman Lane.
A return to the BVRT and a walk north led to a cutting with a strange shape. Is this the northern junction? A check of the area and the finding of a bridge abutment with rail infrastructure confirmed this.
The left and came home.
The day had left me feeling accomplished, full of sorrow and at the end of the day pleased with my progress.