INTRAREA IN IERUSALIM - ANZAC

FLORII.

Tîrg de munte risipit printre livezi,
Cu cerdacuri vāruite de-unde vezi
Piatra Craiului albastrā de departe:
Iatā tot Ierusalimul tāu din carte...

Si cālare pe-o asinā cu mers lin,
Iisus vine si apostolii Lui vin
Pe drumeagul care duce spre muscele
Pe sub bolta unui schit cu rîndunele.

Tārani albi, sositi de ziuā pentru hram,
Rup din sālcii înverzite cîte-un  ram,
Domnul nostru sā-l sfinteascā. - Pe asinā
Pe cînd El blagosloveste în luminā.

Si stā-n umbrā un egumen rāu la gînd -
O tārancā îi asterne la pāmînt,
Cu smerenie, marama-nzāpezitā
Sufletul sā-l calce Fiul, sub copitā (Ion Pillat).

  Simpson and his Donkey - ANZAC

Jack Simpson Kirkpatrick was born in 1892 at South Shields in the north east of England. He came from a large family, being one of eight children. As a child during his summer holidays he used to work as a donkey-lad on the sands of South Shields. He had a great affinity with animals, in particular donkeys. Later he deserted ship in Australia when he heard of the war with Germany.
Fearing that a deserter might not be accepted into the Australian Army, he dropped Kirkpatrick from his name and enlisted simply as John Simpson. He was to become Australia’s most famous, and best-loved military hero.

In Perth on 23rd August 1914, Jack was accepted and chosen as a field ambulance stretcher bearer. This job was only given to strong men so it seems that his work as a stoker in the Merchant Marine had prepared him well for his exceptional place in history. He joined the 3rd Field Ambulance at Blackboy Hill camp, 35 km east of Perth on the same day.

On the 25th April 1915 he, along with the rest of the Australian and New Zealand contingent landed at the wrong beach on a piece of wild, impossible and savage terrain now known as Anzac Cove.

Attack and counter attack began.

During the morning hours of April 26th , along with his fellows, Jack was carrying casualties back to the beach over his shoulder – it was then that he saw the donkey.

Jack knew what he had to do.

From then on he became a part of the scene at Gallipoli walking along next to his donkey, forever singing and whistling as he held on to his wounded passengers, seemingly completely fatalistic and scornful of the extreme danger. He led a charmed life from 25th April 1915 until he was hit by a machine gun bullet in his back on 19th May 1915.

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