Anzac Day 2026 Dawn Service at Gallipoli

Tēnā tātau katoa
Tēnā tātau o te Moana-nui-a-Kiwa
He tapu tō te roimata
He tohu whaimana
He kaikawe kōrero
Mō te haukere o te pōuri
Mō te hāngū o te Aroha.

Greetings to us all
Greetings to us of the South Pacific
There is sacredness in tears
They are marks of power
They are the messengers of overwhelming grief
And unspeakable love.

I'd like to begin by acknowledging: esteemed Ministers and representatives of the Turkish Government; Dr Ömer Toraman, Governor of Çanakkale; and Mr İsmail Kaşdemir, President of the Gallipoli Historic Site Directorate.

Excellencies, distinguished guests, military and diplomatic representatives, and friends gathered from New Zealand, Australia, Türkiye, and around the world - my warmest greetings to you all.

Every year, on Anzac Day, we return to the battlefields of Gallipoli to remember those Turkish, New Zealand, and Australian troops - and all who served and died here.

Our presence at Gallipoli to honour and remember our fallen is made possible through the deep generosity and friendship of the Government and people of the Republic of Türkiye. As Governor-General, I wish to extend my sincerest thanks on behalf of all New Zealanders, to all those involved in supporting these commemorations.

The tens of thousands who died during the Gallipoli campaign would become the spaces and silences in the lives and homes of loved ones they left behind. While these men died as soldiers, they were first and foremost our sons, brothers, fathers, and uncles - and their loss has left lasting scars for so many families and communities.

The story of one New Zealand mother, Eliza O'Donnell, speaks to the profound losses represented by the names on headstones and memorials across Gallipoli.

Two of Eliza's sons, Corporal Jack and Gunner Bill O'Donnell, travelled from New Zealand to fight at Gallipoli - where Jack would be killed and laid to rest, not far from here, at Plugge's Plateau. Following his death, in an act of loving tribute, Bill crept out of the trenches one night, and buried a bottle engraved with Jack's name alongside his brother.

In the early post-war years, travelling thousands of miles from New Zealand to visit these sacred sites was almost impossibly difficult. Most New Zealand families had to find comfort in imagining where their loved ones had been buried - in landscapes described to them in letters and postcards, or from descriptions of those who had survived the campaign and returned home.

In 1924, despite official warnings and many obstacles, Eliza undertook the journey from New Zealand to Gallipoli to visit the grave of her son. When her friends and neighbours heard of Eliza's intentions to travel here, she became an envoy for her community - paying respects, and passing on words of love, comfort, and prayer at loved ones' graves on their families' behalf.

Upon her return to New Zealand, Eliza reflected upon her experience: 'I want other mothers whose sons lie buried over there to know that I was very gratified to see the way the graves of our boys had been looked after.'

Eliza's words echo Ataturk's enduring vow of solace and reassurance to the mothers of these soldiers: that their sons were at peace and would be taken care of - a vow which continues to be upheld and resonate powerfully today.

Over a century later, we continue this legacy by paying our respects to those who sacrificed their lives in the service of our nations. We recall and echo a mother's deep gratitude for the care, generosity, and friendship of our Turkish hosts. And we honour the memory of all those who fought, died, and are at rest here, on these beautiful, hallowed grounds.

Ka maumahara tonu tātou ki a rātou. We will remember them.