A day I will NEVER forget....

Day #9: Thursday, April 21

Belgium: Sunny, approx 25 degrees....

Belgium today! And it looks like being a fantastic sunny day. After the rain of Istanbul, hopefully our coughs and splutters are at an end!!

We started off at Hill 60 from the 'Beneath Hill 60' movie fame. The 1st Australian Tunneling Company tunnelled under the hill in an attempt to blow up the hill and wreak havoc on the Germans. Hill 60 was made from the tailings of the nearby railway line, so it was an artificial hill. The Germans captured the hill in May, 1915 and held it for about two years. The land around here is really flat and you can easily see how having the higher ground gives you such an advantage!

The tunnellers blew their charges before dawn on 7 June, 1917. Apparently the noise of the explosion could be heard as far away as Kent in England. Over 650 Germans were killed in the explosion. It was pretty surreal to see the dips in the ground where the detonations had gone off and to see the destroyed German blockhouses as well.

One of the old block houses....

Looking down to the crater of Hill 60....

The memorial to the 1st Australian Tunnelling Division....

There was an interesting memorial quite close to Hill 60. It was erected in memory of Pierre Merchant and Lucien Olivier: two Frenchmen who fought in the Resistance during World War II. They were in a lorry loaded with ammunition when they were surrounded by Germans SS troops. Although what actually happened here is unknown, locals heard gun shots and in the morning their bodies were found.

Our first commemoration on the Western Front was at the Railway Dugouts Burial Ground in Zillebeke. Gi Gi (Liz Sandbach has been renamed 'Gi Gi' which means older sister in Chinese as we have two Lizs on the tour) did her tribute to James Sneddon here. For those of you have seen 'Beneath Hill 60', Sneddon is a real character used in the movie. When his son signed up to join the war, he signed up also to keep an eye on him.

The first thing we notice about the cemeteries here is that they are very different to the ones in Gallipoli. The headstones are upright and have different insignia on them. For Australians, it is the rising sun. New Zealanders have a fern leaf and the Canadians a maple leaf. Depending on your regiment, the UK soldiers have their regimental insignia on their graves. However, the cemeteries all have common elements: the cross of sacrifice, an altar or stone of remembrance that is designed to be consoling, and the uplifting headstones that are designed to have the rain run off them. The cemeteries are described as gardens and they have the trees and flowers of one's homeland. An entrance is provided for the families to take shelter in when it rains. Winston Churchill stated that these cemeteries will last as long as the pyramids of Egypt. I hope they do!

Straight away you can see the difference....

There's some real beauty in these cemeteries...."Believed to be buried in this cemetery" is a sad bloody thing to read and we see it all too often....note the regimental insignia for the Royal Engineers....

'Known unto God'....again a familiar sight in the cemeteries we visit....

Gi Gi's soldier tribute to J.B. Sneddon, one of the 1st Australian Tunnellers to die at Hill 60....

Life goes on as normal in the background....

Armentierres was the front line in Belgium. And we were off to Lille Gate in Ieper. Ieper is the Flemish, Ypres the French. Being Good Thursday (yes I know it's Maundy Thursday, but who cares!), we thought there might not be that many people out and about. Bakeries were open and the vending machines also!!

Lille Gate....

A bread vending machine....and I thought I had seen everything in Japan!!!

The Butcher's Bill, as it was called, was high on the Western Front for Australians. There were approximately 8,141 deaths at Gallipoli. There were over 60,000 men who were killed on the Western Front. It is just too many to fathom. Around the countryside are what Bruce calls 'concentration cemeteries' where many men are buried or commemorated. There are also 'extensions' in civilian cemeteries. There are over 533 cemeteries scattered over the Western Front.

On the way into Lille, we passed 'Hellfire Pass' which was the most dangerous place to be in the war. This is where the Germans could easily take out Allied soldiers because of the open nature of this area when many roads converged. Now it is a harmless roundabout. Very strange really. Bruce showed us a picture of Hellfire Pass and in it you can see a horse looking absolutely terrified as he is put into a gallop to get out of danger. The most danger you will incur there today is that of the crazy driving of our German bus driver. Andreas looks like a heart attack waiting to happen. He is very overweight with a massive beer belly, fingers like German sausages and he chain smokes at every stop.

After walking through Lille Gate and having a drink of water in a smoky pub, we headed towards the Ramparts. A very picturesque walk from the cemetery around to Menin Gate.

The streets near Lille Gate....

The ubiquitous French Fry...Belgium is famous for three things: chocolate, beer and fries!!

Rampart Cemetery is quite picturesque with the moat in the background....

Walk along the Ramparts....

As we walked around to Menin Gate, we came across a memorial to those who had died in both wars. We were really surprised by the weather....after cold and rainy days in Istanbul, we've been very surprised by the balmy temperature here in Belgium/France.  Blossoms and flowers are blooming everywhere! At one stage it was raining pink blossoms. I was pretty underwhelmed when I first saw Menin Gate....

Memorial to the wars...

My first view of Menin Gate.....

Leading up to Menin Gate, there were a couple of panels with poems:

"Can you remember?"

Yes, I still remember
The whole thing in a way;
Edge and exactitude
Depend on the day.

Of all that prodigious scene
There seems scanty loss,
Though mists mainly float and screen
Canal, spire and fosse;

Though commonly I fail to name
That once obvious Hill,
And where we went and whence we came
To be killed, or kill.
Those mists are spiritual
And luminous-obscure,
Evolved of countless circumstance
Of which I am sure;

Of which, at the instance
Of sound, smell, change and stir,
New-old shapes for ever
Intensely recur.

And some are sparkling, laughing, singing,
Young, heroic, mild;
And some incurable, twisted,
Shrieking, dumb, defiled.

By Edmund Blunden (1896-1974)

And another:

"Last Post"
This evening I was going to Ypres. Getting on for six.
I drove into the setting sun, and three storeys high
Dali-esque clouds which were being seen off by
a force -

nine gale, the heavens blew away from the earth,
no way I could stop them, I drove and drove, 95 mph,
and every minute fell ten minutes behind. There went my
horizon.

When I get into Ypres it's 1917. Germans have blasted the sun
to smithereens. What light there still is, is explosions.
 I'm in a poem by Edmund Blunden.

From the trenches he's writing an ode to the poppy.
Earth has a great super-ego of flowers over it;
Blunden has them literally in his sights.

Here for all of a couple of years  
it's the second before you die.
Little things are all there is. 
        
Later I listen to the Last Post at the Menin Gate:
three bugles you can hear cut back through eighty years
right to whatever's left now on the bone.

(translated by Tanis Guest)

As I was lagging behind taking photos, I didn't see where everyone had gone. I figured out that everyone must have gone down the stairs. As I walked down the stairs, I distinctly remember my words: "Oh shit!" My legs went wobbly and I started to tear up. I know that I have read about the Menin Gate and I had some understanding of what it was, but it was just so completely overwhelming.

And that is just one section of the Gate....

A panel with Australian names....

After having a bit of a wander around and looking at all of the names….just SO overwhelming….we conducted our two commemorations here: Evan and David’s. David, the bastard, asked me to read the Ode. I don’t know how much sense I made as I was trying so very hard to keep it all together. My voice shook and wobbled as I read out those important words. It is such a significant place to be reading such words. Lest we forget.

No relation, although he was a Healesville boy....

Menin Gate....

David's tribute....

We then headed into town and had a look at the iconic Cloth Hall. It has been made famous in photos showing the devastation that was done to Ieper during the war. It is a testament to the people here that they were able to rebuilt the town and the Hall. 

The Cloth Hall: Before, after and now....



Jean and Kristy in the town square....

Cloth Hall....the 'In Flanders Fields' musuem is at the far left....

Great little town square.....

After looking around the city square, we had free time for lunch and chocolate shopping. I had French fries smothered in tomato ketchup and mayonnaise and I also purchased some Jopper sauce. I still have no ideas what was in it, but it tasted very familiar. Kind of chutney-ish, but not. None of us were able to pinpoint exactly what it was!

Then it was off choccy shopping. David, Paul and I gave it a good bash and I think Paul single-handedly reinvigorated the Belgium economy with the number of boxes of chocolate that he bought!!

Chocolate beer bottles.....WOO HOO!!!!

Slightly blurry frogs....

Sunflower chocolates....

A chocoholics dream come true!!!

In the Hall is the ‘In Flanders Field’ museum.  On entering the museum we were faced with H.G. Wells quote: “Every intelligent person in the world knew that disaster was impending and knew no way to avoid it.” Seeing as I have developed a lovely head cold (thank you cold and rainy Istanbul) I ambled through the displays rather than lingering. There were a number of displays on the lead up to the war, the home front, gas, Christmas, paintings, poems and more.

Some letters home:

18 June 1917

A number of my good friends have been having rather a bad time of it; but I suppose you can’t have a war without casualties, which isn’t much comfort.

Much love,

Your son,

Philip

22 November 1917

War is an ageing profession.  Not only is the flower of a nation’s youth killed, but youthfulness itself perishes. The boys’ faces grow old before their time, and even the children forget their games.

Yours always,

Philip Clayton

The exhibit featuring information about the gassings that took place was quite chilling and there was a reading of ‘In Flanders Fields’ and also of ‘Dulce et decorum est’ by Wilfred Owen:

Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,

    Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,

    Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs

    And towards our distant rest began to trudge.

    Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots,

    But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;

    Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots

    Of tired, outstripped Five-Nines that dropped behind.

    Gas! GAS! Quick, boys! – An ecstasy of fumbling,

    Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time;

    But someone still was yelling out and stumbling

    And flound'ring like a man in fire or lime . . .

    Dim through the misty panes and thick green light,

    As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.

    In all my dreams before my helpless sight,

    He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.

    If in some smothering dreams, you too could pace

    Behind the wagon that we flung him in,

    And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,

    His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin;

    If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood

    Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,

    Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud

    Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues, –

    My friend, you would not tell with such high zest

    To children ardent for some desperate glory,

    The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est

    Pro patria mori.*

*What a sweet and beautiful thing it is to die for one’s country.

At the end of the exhibit there was a panel with the following information: “The International Red Cross and Red Crescent Movement has been operating in….120 (1999), 121 (2000), 123 (2001), 125 (2003), 126 (2006)….armed conflicts since the ‘war to end all wars’…..

It was quite moving and chilling at the same time. I guess we never learn…..

We then had a quick change in the bus…..at least the ladies were quick….the boys went first and boy did it take them FOREVER to get themselves sorted. Then it was off for a reception with the Mayor of Ieper. Paul, the official head of our tour party, is an ex-CFA captain and he donated an antique fireman’s helmet to the Ieper Fire Brigade. It is the Fire Brigade who play the Last Post every evening at Menin Gate. The Mayor also put on some Belgian beer and it would have been rude not to taste it…..*Grin*

David and Kristy....





Paul Jennings and his gift to the Ieper Fire Brigade....

Belgian beer....WOO HOO!!!

The Mayor of Ieper....

Paul and the Captain of the Ieper Fire Brigade (I had a very nice chat about beer with him)....

It was then time for dinner. I wish I had been keeping track of all of the marvellous dinners we’ve been having. Although three course meals every day for dinner is getting to be ridiculous!! Then we walked up to the Menin Gate for the sounding of the Last Post.

A Belgian Frog....

The Ieper Fire Brigade has been playing the Last Post every night at 8pm since 2 July 1928. The only time they stopped playing was during German occupation during World War II and as soon as they had left, the ceremony continued. In all there have only been 18 buglers who have played the Last Post here and tonight they were to have a couple of additions to their rendition.

The ceremony started off with the Last Post being played. Then there was a silence like I have not heard before. Even cars in the distance seemed to be silent. Then Hadley Black played Reveille on his bugle. Then a piper played Scotland the Brave on the pipes and then Tom Posa played Waltzing Matilda on his bagpipes. The crowd started to murmur when it heard the opening strains and the there were a few chuckles as well. The Ode was repeated and we all replied Lest we forget. A variety of different dignitaries and groups then laid a wreath. Jean, Paul and Rachel laid our first one and Ash, Martin and David laid the second. It was a ceremony that I was very privileged to be at and quite extraordinary. A man behind me commented that the last time he was here 10 years ago, there were 3 men and a dog present. My how things have changed. There were about 500 people in attendance. Perhaps more. And I know that they all got to experience and amazing ceremony. It really was an honour to be there.

Paul, David and Martin with our wreaths....

Jean, Paul and Rachel waiting to lay their wreath....

Tom and Hadley (in Akubra) waiting to play....

Hadley and the Ieper Fire Brigade buglers....

Our wreath....

Other wreaths that had been laid....

We then had time to take a bit of a wander and have a closer look at Menin Gate. I found another Mays listed; again no relation. However, it was kind of eerie to see my name up there. To see sooo many names up there. It was really hard to fathom that this many men were never given a decent burial. Or to fathom that this many men had died. How many children, mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers did they leave behind to grieve for them?? We grieve for them now, but it all seems such a waste of life. How did we do this to each other? And then back up and do it all over again in 1939??

No relation....

Today has been an unforgettable day. One I don’t expect I will ever repeat in my lifetime. There are so many feeling welling up in me that it is hard to contain them. I am so proud of the two boys for their fantastic performance tonight and so proud of the whole group for the way they are conducting themselves. I am proud to be travelling with such a fantastic group of people and proud to be Australian. I’m proud of all those men whose names are listed on Menin Gate.

Lest we forget!!

Tomorrow…..more of the Western Front…..