The march, of course, honours those who have served their country, and many of those who are still around are getting long in the tooth.

But the number of children involved, the respect and pleasure on their faces, and the way Anzac Day has endured as a family event - even at dawn - shows how it unites Australians across generations.

Naturally, the lasting images for many observers will be of veterans, either of war or peacetime service.

As the marchers rounded the corner from Burelli into Church St, the cry "EYES RIGHT!" directed them to the Cenotaph, in honour of the city's war dead, the place where many marchers had observed the dawn service short hours earlier.

There's the Vietnam Veterans Association, out in impressive numbers, showing a sharpness to their marching that belies their (often unfair) reputation as a reluctant fighting force. Love the conflict or hate it - and most hate it - this march is about pride and respect.

There's the much-older veterans marching with their RSL sub-branches - or the descendants representing those no longer here.

And there, after the march reached its end, was the sight of 90-year-old Vietnam veteran Eric Trezise, resplendent in his medals, waving a flag from his mobility scooter, being mobbed by well-wishers. He and son Skip were barely able to make it 10m down the footpath without being pulled up again. Handshakes, hugs, selfies, and Eric was lapping it up. Here, in an age of celebrities famous for nothing but being famous, were Australians being celebrated for real, hard, things they actually did do - often at a terrible cost.

Those in the crowd try and imagine what they have seen, what they have been through. Try is all they can do, which is why so many of the Diggers will spend much of the day with old comrades in the RSL clubs, enjoying the company of the people who truly understand, checking after each other's wellbeing.

But Anzac Day's power to unite Australians is in good hands, given the number of children involved - as proud marchers, as willing spectators, and as participants earlier, representing their schools, reading poems and laying wreaths at dawn services up and down the region's coast.

Family event

Fairy Meadow mum Mary Qelevuki was born in Fiji but takes her daughter Erica to the dawn service, the march and the service afterwards.

"For her to be born here, and an Australian citizen herself, it's about them growing up knowing the culture, and what Anzac means," Ms Qelevuki said. "I want my little one knowing the culture of the Australians, and to pass it on to her children."

East Corrimal's Trent Lloyd said he felt lucky to be able to take his children to the march.

"We can teach them about Australia's culture, and what they had to sacrifice for what we have now," he said.

Ruby Lloyd, 9, said it was scary to think about war.

"I thought about how everyone fought - everyone who was in the march just then, or their families who are there supporting them," she said.

"It makes me think about that it's wonderful that they're still here to see what the world still looks like.

"So many people passed away in the war."