A WWII digger came into the bottle shop I was working in yesterday and was chatting away about ANZAC Day, and what it meant to him. I love talking to the old soldiers. He made a point about WWI that I hadn't thought about before - we invaded Turkey, and they welcome us back every year to remember our defeat on their shores.

Nice people. I can't imagine too many Australians welcoming the Japanese into Darwin each year to remember their attack on us.
Anyway, to me it's not a celebration. It's a day of remembering, pure and simple. As a kid, I was a girl guide, and then I was in a choir for years, so I either marched in, or sang at, every dawn service from the age of 7 to 17. I love it, if only to be reminded of how good it is here, and being able to reflect on how we got to be where we are as a country. The bad bits as well as the good.
I like to think of ANZAC Day as a day of remembering those people who were passionate enough about the future of Australia that they were willing to die for it. And hopefully it inspires some pride in the country that we call home, as we do spend a good portion of our time being critical and bagging it out. It's a day to think about the fact that, by and large, we've got it pretty sweet here. It's not about glorifying war, but celebrating the lives of those people who loved this country and its people so much that they died doing what they thought was best for it, and for us.
(Is that saccharine enough? I only do this once a year.)