I recently wrote about Anzac Day in Australia (last Thursday, April 25).

It brought back special memories of how we continued the commemoration service during the Covid lockdown period, when public gatherings were impossible. Some good things still came from this difficult period.

We all wanted to honour those who had died in service for their country, those who had been injured or traumatised, and those who serve today.

My street contains only about twenty-six homes. One morning when I collected my mail from the mailbox next to the footpath, there was a note from a resident at the far end of the street. She was organising a Dawn Service for Anzac Day and invited us all to participate in having a “driveway service”.

The day before the event, we received a reminder in our mailboxes, along with a sprig of rosemary and a tealight candle. Meanwhile I had hand-delivered some red poppies I had knitted and made into brooches – enough for everyone in the street.

We set our alarm for 5 am, dressed for the service, and stood on the driveway in the near darkness. All was quiet. Tea-light candles flickered up and down the street. At dawn, shortly before 6, we heard the bugler announce the day. Our neighbour had set up a radio Anzac Day Service, amplified with speakers – loud enough for the whole street to hear.

It was so moving to see whole families standing in the semi-darkness, all holding tea-lights, listening intently, and joining in the appropriate responses, united as one, as the sun rose.

Some children were still in pyjamas and dressing gowns, but despite the early start, happy to be involved.

The young man across the road was in full military uniform, medals displayed. He and his wife had always been very shy and kept to themselves. Although we had waved, I had never had a conversation with either. This service changed everything. He later brought me a gift of chocolates and a thank-you card – simply for making the knitted poppy.

I don’t know his full story, about why Anzac Day was so meaningful to him, or when and where he had served, but we became friends, and chatted comfortably every time we saw each other after that dawn service.

That year, 2020, driveway services were held across the nation. Everyone was encouraged to see the participation of all their neighbours. Previously, we never knew who went to a Service and who didn’t. In our street, only one house remained in darkness, and no one stood on a driveway.

It was a very beautiful and unifying experience, despite the fact that we were standing at distances of twenty metres or more from each other all down the street. We could still wave to each other, and after the service, share conversation with the nearer neighbours, despite the required physical separation.

Later we saw chalk messages on driveways with the three words which conclude every Anzac Day Service.

“Lest we forget!”