In 2015, the world paused to remember the centenary of the Gallipoli campaign. Among the ten thousand fortunate Australians and New Zealanders who stood at Anzac Cove for the dawn service that year was my guest, Lee Cutler — teacher, librarian, photographer, and seasoned traveller.
But Lee wasn’t there as just a traveller. She was leading a group of senior students, one of 25 schools selected by the New South Wales Department of Education to take part in this once-in-a-lifetime journey. Her story is one of organisation, adventure, fatigue, and, above all, the deeply moving experience of walking in the footsteps of history.
The Journey Begins
Lee had already arranged to travel with her own school group when the incredible news came: they had been chosen to join the official Department of Education contingent. That meant flying to Europe with one group of students, returning home to Australia, and then — without pause for breath — flying straight back to Turkey with another.
“I’ve never been so tired,” Lee laughed. “But when we arrived in Istanbul, any thought of sleep was replaced by excitement.”
For the students, many of whom had never left Australia (and in some cases had never been on a plane before), simply arriving in Turkey was thrilling. Three full buses carried 150 students, teachers, and supervisors around Istanbul and onwards to Gallipoli. Checking into hotels, herding kids to breakfast, and boarding buses became adventures of their own.
Walking Through History
Before the commemorations, the students were introduced to Turkey’s ancient history. They explored Troy, where Lee found herself walking on ground littered with shards of pottery thousands of years old. “I’m a potter myself,” I told her, “and that would have given me goosebumps.”
From there, they visited Ephesus, with its famous library — a highlight for Lee, being a teacher-librarian. “When you approach from below, the library just appears, rising out of the ruins. It’s breathtaking,” she said.
But alongside these ancient marvels, the trip always circled back to Gallipoli. Students learned about the battlefields, the memorials, and the sacrifices of soldiers from both sides. One particularly moving moment came when a student discovered her great-uncle’s grave — and on it, a handwritten history, left by another young person who had researched his life. “It made it so personal,” Lee reflected. “Everyone was touched.”
The Dawn Service at Gallipoli
Nothing could truly prepare them for the dawn service. Security was tight — three separate checkpoints, ID checks, and an overnight camp under the stars with only thin sleeping bags for comfort. Sleep proved impossible, not least when a guard wandered a little too close to the students, unsettling the teachers on duty.
By 3 a.m., the group was shepherded down to the water’s edge, joining 10,000 people from Australia, New Zealand, and beyond. “We had to stand for the whole service, exhausted and half-asleep, but as the sun rose and the waves lapped the shore, you could feel the weight of history,” Lee said quietly.
A century earlier, the same beach had been filled with chaos and death. Now it was filled with silence, remembrance, and tears. “The kids were so moved,” she added. “I was proud of them for feeling the gravity of it.”
Climbing to Lone Pine
The dawn service was not the end. Next came the steep three-kilometre climb to the Lone Pine memorial. Soldiers lined the path every few metres, machine guns in hand — a sobering sight for teenagers who had never seen such things up close.
Lee admitted the trek was gruelling, but her students rallied around her. “They carried my coat and my bag. I was the oldest in the group, but I still reached the top before most of them!” she laughed.
At the summit, seats awaited the group, and the service began. From their vantage point, they could see dignitaries including Prince Charles and Prince Harry. The formalities were moving, but the emotions in the crowd were even more powerful. “Some of the kids were in tears,” Lee said. “It was overwhelming.”
Coming Home
After nearly 48 sleepless hours, the return to Istanbul was a blur. Lee remembers checking into a hotel and seeing the luxury of a spa bath, only to opt for a simple shower and immediate sleep. “Headlines: Teacher Dies in Spa Bath. No thanks!” she joked.
The final days were spent playing tourists — mosques, markets, and more glimpses into Turkey’s history — before the long flights home. For many of the rural students, it was their first step into the wider world, an experience that would stay with them forever.
Back in Australia, the students shared their experiences with their school, local RSLs, and community groups. They were part of something bigger than themselves — living history, remembrance, and connection.
A Teacher’s Legacy
For Lee, being among the 10,000 Australians and New Zealanders at Gallipoli in 2015 remains one of the proudest moments of her teaching career. “To stand there with my students and be part of that centenary commemoration… it’s something I’ll never forget.”
It’s a story of travel, yes. But more than that, it’s a story of responsibility, memory, and the profound impact that history has when it moves from textbooks into lived experience.
✨ What about you? Have you ever visited a place that left you completely humbled by its history?
