The Sunshine of Your Smile

Sunday 5th May 2013

We wake to another fabulous morning. The sun is shining, the sky is clear and blue.

Our itinerary suggested a trip to Poperinge. This was one of the places my grandfather had mentioned as somewhere they went for a break or to be patched up. We decided, in the end, that it was probably best that we started our journey into France to make the most of the day.

Unable to park outside the hotel the night before, we left our trusty chariot in the square near the Cloth Hall.



Our initial destination would be a small village called Englebelmer. Here in an annexe to the village cemetery is a Commonwealth War Grave Cemetery containing the gravestone of my father’s uncle Jack.

More confident with driving now and with our destination punched into the SatNav (yes, one of the downloaded POIs) we set off.

The Road to Nowhere

At some point along the road we realised we were in France. We must have missed the unobtrusive sign that declared “Welcome to France”.  All the cars with French number plates were a big giveaway.

Soon we jumped on a motorway and, expertly guided by her ladyship, sailed effortlessly toward our destination only troubled when I embarrassed myself at the toll booth fumbling for change.

We had exited the motorway at Baupame and were now making our way across country, but it was not long before we pulled off the main road and turned onto the country lanes.

Driving through the countryside, not seeing a soul for miles, it certainly seemed like we had landed in the middle of nowhere.

Englebelmer

We believe my father’s uncle Jack died from his wounds in a medical facility in the area and his body was buried here at this small Commonwealth War Grave Cemetery.

My father had been before with his cousins some years ago, and as we pulled into the village he recognised the entrance to the cemetery.




Beyond the gates are the graves of the people from the village but an annexe houses the war graves.



Once again the place was impeccably well kept, stunningly so. The grass, the flowers, and the trees standing there like honour guards.

This visit was of course personal. I remember a photograph hung on the wall of my great aunt’s house of a solider in uniform. I remember being told that he had died in the war, but this was a long time ago. As we walk into the cemetery and up to the gravestone all these memories come flooding back connecting the past and present.



The day is beautiful, as is the countryside, and the only sounds we hear are the birds. It is very relaxing, and we stop for a few minutes to take in our surroundings and reflect on the moment.

Ocean Villas

It had been a good few hours since breakfast and we were feeling a bit peckish. Luckily the next item on the days itinerary was lunch at Ocean Villas. With practiced ease the destination was set.

Of course, the name of the village is Auchonvillers but was referred to by the British servicemen as Ocean Villas. Today it is home to a place run by a lady named Avril Williams where you can get a lovely cup of tea along with delicacies like ham, egg and chips. It would have been rude not to!



Our appetites sated we got back on the road to travel the few kilometres to Beaumont-Hamel, to what would be one of the most memorable places of our journey for me.

Beaumont-Hamel Newfoundland Memorial

This is a memorial to the members of the Newfoundland Regiment killed during World War One.
The site is the preserved battlefield where the regiment was all but wiped out in one of the first battles of the Somme in 1916.

We park up and are greeted by one of the Canadian students who come over to work at the memorial. He tells us that all the guided tours are booked up but we can go on a self-guided tour. He then rushes off and returns with a comprehensive leaflet with a map and numbered points to follow, along with full descriptions.

We head off into the woods.



The tour directs us along the path through the trees and to our first sight of the trenches. They are now covered in grass but there is no mistaking what they are even though they are a little shallower now.

That path curves round and we are directed to the Caribou Memorial, a very impressive sight.




A walkway gently circles this memorial until you get to the top and can see out across much of the battlefield.

From here we head to the trenches.




Much of the site is enclosed with electric fencing but this stretch of the trenches has been opened as a walkway. You can see it snaking into the distance. The guide tells us that this trench would have been about two feet deeper.

We walk along and eventually rise back up to ground level where we join a path roughly bisecting the field. From here we get a view of many more trenches and what we assume are shell holes.



Walking along the path into a dip, and then rising up again, we see a cemetery, one of several on the site. A school party precedes us and we casually listen to the teacher explaining things. We are left on our own and I pay my respects before moving on to the next stop in our tour.

This memorial site has been largely preserved in its original state. Electric fences enclose much of the land.

The sign below gives a stark reminder of how well preserved the site may be.




The Germans were positioned in this ravine. This afforded them a lot of cover and protection.




We pass more monuments and another cemetery, each one looked after with the care and attention that we have come to expect for these memorials.




Finally we walk back through the avenue of trees, planted as part of the memorial.




One last tour of the trenches before finishing up back at the Caribou Memorial. The crowds had gone so I went up one more time to take a last look over the site.



The visitor centre was our final destination. Small but very good. It tells the story of the people from Newfoundland and their experience fighting during the First World War. The final piece that makes the visit complete.

A few pictures and some words really do not do this memorial justice; we spent nearly two hours walking around the site.

This memorial provided a clear picture to me. It told a story, leaving nothing to the imagination. That is the real battlefield, those are the real trenches, and those are the real gravestones.

It does not so much make you not forget, it encourages you to remember.


We walk back to the car and head off to the site that we have been seeing in the distance since we turned off the main road earlier in the day – The Thiepval Memorial.

To be continued…

Keep the Home Fires Burning

Saturday 4th May 2013

The names of the dead ring out.

Walking towards the relatively new visitor centre at the Tyne Cot Cemetery the names of the dead can be heard spoken out loud as you walk along the path to the entrance. Once inside the visitor centre the names continue at a respectful pace, an eerie reminder of where you are.

We absorbed the information the visitor centre had to offer, things to read, videos to watch. Some familiar, some new, but all relevant.

When visiting a cemetery that is the resting place for nearly 12000 soldiers and a memorial to an additional 34000 soldiers, I feel you can not truly appreciate it without knowing about all the events that led to them to be there.

Stepping out of the visitor centre we followed the path down the side of the cemetery and headed to the main entrance. Our first sight of the cemetery, the sideways view of rows and rows of gravestones.




Finally we reach the entrance.




Excuse me for stating the obvious but there are a lot of grave stones at Tyne Cot. As we enter the cemetery this becomes very obvious. The grave stones all stand together in seemingly perfect geometrical alignment, playing tricks on the eyes like an optical illusion, but this is no illusion. Each stone and each name inscribed on the walls represents a soul who lost their life in a conflict I find harder and harder to understand.





Several German bunkers sit here, relics of the conflict, guarded by trees.




We take a closer look at the grave stones. Many graves identify people by name, others do not.

Some of the graves have no name.	Some of the graves have a regiment but still no name.

The graves are maintained with such care. The grass is cut, the edges trimmed. Flowers are planted. Grave stones that are old and worn are repaired. The Commonwealth War Graves Commission does an incredible job.

The stones not only name the soldiers and regiments, they also include the emblem of the regiments.

These are some of the emblems we saw:



We approach what I now know is called the Cross of Sacrifice and turn around to once more survey the full extent of the cemetery. It is a lot to take in.





The Memorial to Missing lies beyond. A wall made up of panels inscribed with the names of missing soldiers, an imposing sight curving around the back of the cemetery.

 

We walk up the length of the wall and pay our respects. It is the least we can do, before finally departing.

The next stop is the 20^th Light Division memorial in Langemark, another place my grandfather had been.

To be continued...

Take Me Back to Dear Old Blighty

Saturday 4th May 2013

Today would see our first full day in Belgium. Much was planned.

The battlefields, memorials and museums we intended to visit formed a circle from Ieper around which we would be travelling anti-clockwise.

A hearty breakfast and a couple of mugs of tea and we were set.

Hill 62 – Sanctuary Wood

Hill 62 is one of the hills around Ieper sitting next to Sanctuary Wood. As a hill it is not that impressive but it seems if you mount some artillery and a force of soldiers on it then it is another story. The elevation provides a clear view over the land towards Ieper.

This is one of the hills held by the Germans and from which Ieper and the allied forces were bombarded by artillery. In the picture below you can see in the distance the clock towers in Ieper.



The hill is now the home of the Hill 62 Memorial. A memorial to the Canadian forces that took the hill from the Germans.

We had evidence that this is one of the places my grandfather had been, and standing on the top of the hill looking around at the countryside, which before the war probably looked much the same as it does now, it is difficult to imagine the scenes witnessed by him looking out over the same view nearly one hundred years ago.

After a slow walk around the memorial, with thoughts of what had been, we headed back down the hill to the Sanctuary Wood Museum.




An interesting place with many artefacts and lots of photographs (some not for the faint hearted). Around the back they also had trenches which were unintentionally authentically presented with a thick lining of mud and water on the floor. A very impressive sight.




The cost of €10 each was a little high relative to other places but there were a lot of things to see as well as a café, although we did not stop.

In one area they had some of the well known posters from the UK aimed to help motivate people to join up, along with many examples of posters used from some of the other countries involved in the conflict.




It of course goes without saying that the Sanctuary Wood Museum/Café sported both flags and artillery.



Our next destination was thankfully one of the POIs we had downloaded to the SatNav before we came.

Punching it in we were off.

Passchendaele Memorial Museum

The journey was thankfully uneventful and with the museum having its own parking we arrived relaxed, with an air of confidence, although slightly hungry.

The Memorial Museum Passchendaele 1917 is a relatively new museum and very well situated with a park and water close by. Also a separate café building where hungry people can stop for a bite to eat (also perfect if you are simply a bit peckish) .



The museum is very impressive. Lots of information about the war in general and detailed information about what happened in the infamous battles around Passchendaele.

Particularly impressive is a reconstruction of an allied deep dugout. Very realistic, especially when you can’t workout how to get out!

All in all a great experience and more than worth the €5 entrance fee.

We stopped for a relaxed spot of lunch, no one was chasing us, and then on to Tyne Cot…

Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes

Some parts of the area have remained the same and others have changed.

In Langemark there is a memorial to the 20^th Light Division, the division in which my grandfather had served.

This was of course going to be on our list of places to visit.





Once the memorial stood in open fields but now resides in the middle of an area of housing.

Yorkshire Trench and Dugouts

This was supposed to be one of the trickier places to find but again with our POIs in the SatNav we left Langemark and arrived at the Yorkshire Trench site, situated on an industrial site, with no difficulty at all.

A small site but nevertheless impressive. Only the main trench itself is accessible but information boards explain about the dugout also situated on the site.







The day was drawing to a close and with weariness borne of emotion and thought, we headed back to Ieper to once again attend the Last Post Ceremony at the Menin gate.

To be continued….

We Will Remember Them

To quote Wikipedia:

“The Menin Gate Memorial to the Missing is a war memorial in Ypres, Belgium dedicated to the British and Commonwealth soldiers who were killed in the Ypres Salient of World War I and whose graves are unknown.”

It seems they ran out of room to inscribe all the names on the gate so some of the remaining names (about 34000) are on the walls at the Tyne Cot Memorial.

The ceremony itself has been performed every day since 1928 (except during the occupation in the Second World War).

We stayed in Ieper for two nights and attended the Last Post Ceremony at the Menin Gate both nights.

Friday 3rd May 2013

After enjoying a relaxing and satisfying meal on the first night we made our way to the Menin Gate.

It was about 19:30 when we arrived and people had already started to gather for the ceremony. It seems if you want a front row view you need to get there early.


The crowds continued to gather on all four sides of the memorial. Ceremony officials were also milling around making sure everything was going to plan.


A little before 20:00 the buglers began to appear.




They then prepared to get into position.




Silence descends over the memorial and the ceremony begins.



When they had finished, the extract from Laurence Binyon’s poem “For the Fallen”, often used in acts of remembrance,  was recited by someone (a visitor or guest of some kind):

“They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:

Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.

At the going down of the sun and in the morning,

We will remember them.”

After which a silence was observed.

Now the people who had come to lay wreaths marched across the gate one group at a time until finally the ceremony was over and the crowds dispersed.

Finally the buglers play out.

It was difficult not to be moved by the whole ceremony and as we returned back through the city to our hotel the thought of the thousands of lives lost remained at the forefront of my mind.

Saturday 4th May 2013

The day had been spent around the local area seeing places including Tyne Cot and Passchendaele. We got back to the city in good time and walked to the Ramparts Museum and then a gentle walk back to the Menin Gate for the Last Post Ceremony.

We arrived earlier this night intent on getting a clearer view and did so without trouble although the area quickly filled up around us.

This night was a little different. There were more people taking part including The Liverpool Clan Wallace Pipe Band and the Rochdale Festival Choir.

Approaching 20:00 things started with the Pipe band approaching finally taking up position at one end of the gate.




The buglers entered as normal taking up position at the opposite end of the gate and joined by a solo piper.




The laying of the wreaths was accompanied by the Rochdale Festival Choir.

After the ceremony itself was complete the pipe band again fired up, marching up and down the length of the gate.

Liverpool Clan Wallace Pipe Band.

Finally they marched back towards the main square in the city where they performed some more.






As for us? We went back to the hotel to marshal our resources for the following day. We would be leaving Flanders and heading into France to explore the Somme.

To be continued...

A Perfect Day

We could not have picked a better weekend if we had tried. The sun was shining and the forecast was for more of the same.

Leaving from Birmingham Airport we would be flying into Brussels and from there hiring a car beginning our journey to Flanders Fields.

The Road to Wipers

Ok, the place is actually called Ieper but the British troops nicknamed the city Wipers and it was also referred to by the French name Ypres.

We had fine weather and our initial journey was marred only by a navigational dispute resulting in a road-work barrier jumping out at us, surgically removing one of our wing mirrors. We laughed about this later.

In a state of shock we fell back on the itinerary which had us visiting the Hooge Crater Museum for a cup of tea and a snack.

Back on the road and taking the correct exit on the Hellfire Corner roundabout we parked up easily and were soon sitting down to a toasted ham and cheese sandwich and a refreshing cup of tea.

A recurring theme at many of the café/museums would be artillery and flags, Hooge was no different.

Onwards

We were a little behind schedule, as if that really mattered. The sun was shining and fully refreshed we set off into the city of Ieper to find our hotel and check-in.

This was the first time I had driven on the wrong side of the road. The motorway from Brussels had been easy enough but now we were navigating the normal roads. My kerb-on-the-right hat was firmly in place. The only real problem I found was changing gear with my right hand. Perhaps paying that little bit extra for an automatic might have been more prudent.

But I digress.

The address successfully entered into the satnav we set off. Unfortunately the route “she” wanted to take us on was blocked, but as is the beauty of satnavs we set off in another direction and after the initial protests of “turn around when possible” we were directed to our hotel.

The road was lined with parked cars but we spotted a small space and spent a good few minutes reversing in (I expect an embarrassing YouTube video to be posted by an amused observer).

The next question of course. Could we park there? As luck would have it we had parked right outside our hotel. We nipped in with our bags and asked the lady on reception about the parking. She came out and suggested reversing a little more away from an opening, even standing there to guide me back.

Did we have to pay? Guided again, yes, there was a machine further up the street. Of course everything was in Flemish (I can only read Flemish menus) so I threw in what seemed to the maximum amount and got a ticket. Valid until 09:30 the next morning. Perfect!

Into the hotel, check-in, throw our bags into the room and set off into the city to dive back into our itinerary.

The Cloth Hall

The original Cloth Hall was destroyed by artillery fire during World War One, it lay in ruins. That it was reconstructed after the war to its pre-war condition I find remarkable.




Today it houses the In Flanders Fields Museum, the next destination on our itinerary.




We got there just in time slipping in before the last entry.

€9 each and our wrist bands were handed over (€1 upon return). These provided access into the museum and also activated various displays to give you a more personal experience.



There were lots of interesting displays with information, artefacts and reconstructions. The setting added to the experience, notice the arches in the background of the picture below.




One of the displays I found most interesting was the cross-section of tree showing the period of war.



We exit the museum into the sunny evening, quietly absorbing what we have just seen.

Steak and chips (not quite phrased like that) follow before heading over to the Menin Gate for the Last Post ceremony.

Our first day draws to a most satisfactory conclusion.

To be continued…

Pack Up Your Troubles…

My grandfather fought in World War One and came home.

I did not fully appreciate what this meant until I went to Belgium and France and saw the thousands upon thousands of graves.

We were not just visiting towns, villages, monuments, cemeteries and beautiful countryside. We were viewing history through the unique perspective of our family.

Nearly one hundred years on we were standing in his footsteps.

A Solider Goes to War

My grandfather was 19 years old when he enlisted and did not see action until the August of 1915. By this time it was clear the war was not going to be “over by Christmas”.

A carpenter by trade he served as a wheeler in the Royal Field Artillery 20^th Light Division Ammunition Column (responsible for the supply of ammunition to gun batteries).

His records were lucky enough to be amongst the Burnt Documents surviving the fire and flooding during World War Two.

Through what my grandfather had spoken about over the years and the ever increasing access to historical information, we were able to piece together where he was during his time in Belgium and France.

No Time Like the Present

My father has for a number of years now been researching our family history. Along the way the subject of my grandfather’s experiences during the war were touched on and it was during a conversation about this, and a comment by my father about wanting to see first hand the areas in Belgium and France, that the idea for this trip was born.

A quick check of diaries, the necessary spousal approval granted and a date was set. Not long after, a rough itinerary created (to be much expanded in the following weeks), flights and hotels booked.

We were good to go.

We had of course Major & Mrs Holt’s battle maps of the Ypres Salient and the Somme. Western Europe maps were loaded on the satnav (yes, I would be driving!) and some POIs for the satnav covering most of the locations we intended to visit downloaded.

My father provided plenty of background information to get me up to speed.

 

…Smile Smile Smile

We had packed our bags and our troubles. We were on our way to Belgium.


To be continued…