ANZAC Day — and look how we treat our own

ANZAC Day is meant to be sacred.

Not because of the dawn selfies. Not because of the suits laying wreaths for the cameras. Not because the media suddenly remembers the word “service” for 24 hours.

It’s sacred because ordinary blokes did extraordinary things so Australia could stay Australia — free, safe, and worth raising kids in.

And that’s why this whole thing feels like a kick in the guts.

Because we’ve built a country where the appetite to publicly destroy our own soldiers feels endless… while the system somehow finds unlimited patience, excuses, and “compassion” for people who do real harm.

Say what you want about Ben Roberts-Smith — hero, villain, somewhere in between — but here’s the point that matters for ANZAC Day:

We’ve normalised turning a soldier, into a national punching bag.

Years of headlines. Years of public spectacle. Years of people who’ve never worn a uniform acting like they’re moral referees of war.

And the message that sends to every serving member and every young Aussie thinking about enlisting is simple:

“If you ever become inconvenient, we will not back you.”

That’s how you kill recruitment.

That’s how you make service look like a trap.

That’s how you end up with a country that still loves the idea of soldiers on ANZAC Day, but doesn’t actually respect the reality of what soldiers are asked to do.

Now look at what else is happening in Australia.

We’ve got violent repeat offenders cycling through the system.

We’ve got rapists and paedophiles getting sentences that make normal people wonder what planet the courts and judges live on.

We’ve got criminals who treat the public like prey — and communities being told to “be calm” and “don’t generalise” while they watch their streets get worse.

And we’ve got people who openly despise Australian values still being given endless chances, endless benefits, endless excuses.

To be crystal clear — because I’m not playing the media’s favourite game of twisting words:

I’m not talking about peaceful everyday people who come here, work hard, and respect Aussie law.

I’m talking about extremists.

Islamist extremists. Sharia supremacists. Terror-linked ideologues. Machete wielding violent criminals

The ones who don’t want to live under Australian law — they want to replace it.

The ones who see our freedoms as weakness.

The ones who hate the West but love Western welfare.

ANZACs didn’t fight for that.

Diggers didn’t die so Australia could become a place where we tiptoe around extremist ideology while we scrutinise our own soldiers like they’re the problem.

Here’s what really burns.

This isn’t just “a few bad policies.” It’s a pattern.

A pattern where Australians are expected to accept:

·       less safety

·       less pride

·       less freedom

·       less say

…while being told it’s all “progress.”

And if you object, you’re labelled.

You’re “divisive.”

You’re “extreme.”

You’re “dangerous.”

Funny how quickly that label gets thrown at ordinary Aussies who simply want their country to stay stable, safe, and recognisable.

That’s the subversion: not one big announcement, but a thousand small moves — done quietly, sold with slogans, enforced with shame.

If you want to understand why people are angry, look at what this does to the institutions that keep a nation standing.

When you constantly vilify service, you don’t just hurt veterans.

You weaken the pipeline.

You deter the best people.

You teach young Aussies that loyalty is for mugs.

And then you act shocked when the culture changes.

When the people who would’ve served and served Australia well decide it’s not worth it.

When the ones who remain are forced to navigate politics, optics, and bureaucracy instead of clear mission and clear values.

A country that doesn’t respect its defenders ends up with defenders who don’t feel respected by their country.

That’s not a future anyone should want.

ANZAC Day is not about pretending war is clean.

It’s about understanding that freedom is expensive.

It’s about remembering that the people who pay that price are usually the ones who get the least say in how the country is run afterwards.

And it’s about asking a question we’re not allowed to ask anymore:

Who is Australia for?

The people who built it, defended it, and pay for it?

Or the people who treat it like a target, a payday, or a social experiment?

Because if we keep heading down this road — where we publicly destroy our soldiers, excuse criminals, tolerate extremist ideology, and shame anyone who speaks up — we won’t need an invasion.

We’ll hand the country over piece by piece, while telling ourselves we’re being “inclusive.”

To every digger — past and present — I’m not here to virtue signal.

I’m here to say what a lot of Aussies are thinking but get punished for saying out loud:

You deserved better.

You deserved a country that backs you the way you backed it.

You deserved leaders with a spine.

You deserved a justice system that protects the innocent and punishes the guilty — consistently.

You deserved a culture that honours service as more than a one-day performance.

Lest we forget.

And lest we let them turn Australia into something the ANZACs wouldn’t even recognise.