There are likely 520,000 answers to such a question, but I reckon if they truly knew the horrors that awaited them - the years of suffering, the gore, the filth, the pain, the disease, the hunger, the gassings, the dysentery, the graphic deaths of best mates, the PTSD and (at Gallipoli) the heartbreak of a military defeat - fewer would have volunteered.

Imagine the response, if by some voice just 30 years into their future, they'd been told, "Actually boys, this won't be the war to end all wars - 61,522 of you Aussies will die and so will about 18,000 of you Kiwis. This war will obliterate about 17 million people - but WWII will kick off in 25 years and another 70 million lives will be extinguished."

Of course there are no crystal balls, but hundreds of millions of people around the world believe in an afterlife - and I imagine quite a few WWI Diggers did - so I think it's reasonable to ponder what those valiant, innocent young men would make of today's 100-year fanfare over their deeds and their deaths.

Today's centenary marks the landing on April 25, 1915, on the Gallipoli peninsula in Turkey where, over the following mud-and-blood-soaked months, the deaths of 8709 Australians and 2779 New Zealanders gave birth to the Anzac spirit.

I wonder what those Diggers might say about how Australians now commemorate - even celebrate - the terrible ways in which they died. What might they make of their war service becoming a national "brand" - a commodity to be traded and a memory to be commercialised? Could they stomach the fact that Anzac Day, particularly this year, has become big business?

How might those dead teenagers and 20-somethings feel about the media feeding frenzy that has seen news teams dispatched to the shores where they bled to death? Would they feel the same way the rest of us are meant to feel about "remembering" when a great many who survive the nightmare of war try to forget?

I find myself growing more and more confused about exactly what the Anzac spirit is and how Anzac Day is meant to make me feel. In recent years, it has made me uneasy. I've seen a lot of Anzac merchandise for sale over the past few weeks, from commemorative coin collections spruiked on the front pages of billionaire and former Australian Rupert Murdoch's newspapers to bumper stickers, T-shirts and hats. I've seen plenty of Anzac-themed tattoos, too - not on members of the ADF.

I was surprised to learn that companies who want to use the Anzac brand need ministerial permission. Since retailers now seem to stock their shelves for Anzac Day the same way they do Australia Day, Easter and Christmas, I figured it was a free-for-all. I'd prefer it if the government simply said, "No. The Anzac legend was paid for in blood. You can't use it to sell frozen peas."

A week or so ago, Woolworths was so keen to cash in on the Anzac centenary that it didn't bother to seek permission. Instead "the fresh food people" contrived a campaign using photos of long dead Gallipoli soldiers with the slogan "Fresh in our memories" Fresh food/Fresh memory of a soldier slaughtered 100 years ago? Geddit?

The campaign was dumped after public outrage and a government directive, but I am so used to seeing Anzac Day treated as currency that the decision left me wondering.

"What about everybody else who is spinning a buck out of this?" I half-expected Coles to hit back with Status Quo belting out The Last Post using big, red hand-shaped bugles.

Companies justify using the Anzac brand by pledging money to charity. Well, I have written fundraising letters for charities who support the families of Australia's war dead and wounded and I can tell you the coffers aren't overflowing through the largesse of big retailers.

Of course the mainstream media have played a massive role in steadily turning Anzac Day from a sombre occasion on our national calendar into something akin to an NRL grand final. This year the media hype has been off the charts. Channel Seven has been broadcasting its news live from Turkey since Monday in a quest to overdose on Anzac ratings.

I saw a live cross to one Seven reporter on Wednesday night in which she solemnly declared "last-minute preparations" were under way for today's dawn service at Anzac Cove. There were, in fact, about 5000 minutes left to go but, hey, she had nothing else of interest to tell us because she had to wait 5000 minutes for anything to actually happen. What might those Diggers who died where she stood think of it all?

My generation is profoundly lucky; I don't know anyone who fought in any war so it's impossible for me to "remember" them. But I know what they did, how they suffered and how others still put their lives on the line. We should rethink how we honour that sacrifice because the way many of our retailers and media are doing it nowadays seems disrespectful at best, disgraceful at worst.