It was a short drive from Vimy Ridge, to the village of Neuville-Saint-Vaast. While here, Steve showed Kate and me two First World War cemeteries: one German, and one French. Our first stop was the German War Cemetery.
The sign's description--in German, French and English--(photo left) tells how and when this cemetery was established. It also describes some of the First World War campaigns that were fought in this part of France, and the battles where the German soldiers interred here fought and died in.
I also found a second sign in German (photo right), carved on the wall within the cemetery itself. My German isn't the greatest, but I believe it reads: The marker translates to: "In this Soldiers' Cemetery Lie 44,833 German Soldiers 1914-1918".
We didn't find an office, where you could inquire about grave information here: just row upon row of crosses (with a few Jewish graves engraved with the Star of David). The German soldiers buried here are mostly from the Battles of Artois in autumn 1914, spring and autumn 1915, and the Battles of Arras in autumn 1914, spring 1917 and spring 1918.
Strange thing is: the Christian German soldiers were buried two to a plot: one on either side of the cross (below right), with their names engraved on the cross' horizontal arm. The Jewish German soldiers, however, had an individual stone marker for their graves, with a Star of David carved upon it (photo left).
If we'd had a lot of time to explore here, it would have been interesting to see if any of my German-born mother's family--both paternal and maternal--had relatives buried in this cemetery. Alas, we only walked amongst the front row of graves.
I wonder if any descendants of these German soldiers ever visit their loved ones here? I left this cemetery feeling very sad.
From the German cemetery, Steve then drove us to the west side of Neuville-Saint-Vaast, to a French
First World War cemetery. At first glance, the layout of this cemetery reminds me of photos I've seen of the US military cemeteries in France: white crosses, in rows that go on forever (photo left).
France lost over a million fighting men in the First World War: It was the highest total war dead on the Allied side. It truly was the loss of a whole generation.
Steve, Kate and I wandered about this cemetery at will, crunching the fallen leaves beneath our feet. We took quite a few photos of individual graves. I found graves of French Jewish soldiers, which displayed a carved Star of David with two Hebrew letters, alongside their Christian comrades. And all of them had the same motto engraved below their names, birth and death years: "Mort Pour La France": "Died For France".
I also found graves of French Zouave soldiers (photo left). They were light infantry troops who were serving in North Africa, in France's colonial possessions of Algeria and Morocco. The 'original' Zouaves were first raised in Algeria in 1851, and initially came from the Zouaoua tribe of Berbers living in the mountains of the Jurjura range. They were characterized by their flamboyant dress: short open-fronted jackets, baggy trousers and oriental headgear.
While Kate and I wandered about the gravestones taking photos, our intrepid guide Steve was doing the same thing (below left)!
I figured there must have been several thousand graves here. But this French war cemetery didn't sadden me as much as did the German one. Perhaps it was because it felt more 'open'? Or because most of the grave markers are white, and not like the iron crosses for the Germans? I don't know.
But before we did, Steve took us on a little side-trip, to see a really interesting local landmark: the ruins of the Abbaye-de-Mont-St Eloi (right), which sat on a hill, and rose before us in the now-lowering mist. He told us the abbey was destroyed in the 1870-71 Franco-Prussian War (although Wikipedia says the destruction took place in 1783--which was just before the French Revolution?). All that's left now is a section of the abbey's front wall, looking like two broken fingers pointing to the sky.
I wish I had thought to ask Steve if we could stop and get some photos of it. But I never did. The photo of the Abbey on the right is from another Web site.
Steve did tell us, however, he thinks that Walter Seymour Allward, the designer of the Vimy Memorial, got his inspiration from this ruin. And thinking about it now, I believe Steve's right!
We left the Abbey and drove to the nearby village of Ecoivres
Steve, Kate and I found a table, and sat down to order. We could have a three-course lunch (appetizer, entree and dessert) for 12 euros. The menu, of course, was all in French, but I knew just enough of the language to get by. I ordered Quiche Lorraine, along with a thinly-sliced steak dish with French fries--and dark chocolate mousse for dessert. Steve and Kate ordered the same entree, but different appetizers and desserts.
We had a great time chatting over lunch: Kate shared some of her experiences as an au pair in The Netherlands, and Steve told Kate and I that he was born in the UK, and lived in Reading, England, before moving to Ypres to take over management of "The British Grenadier" bookshop. He said he enjoyed living in Ypres better than the UK.
We had a great time chatting over lunch: Kate shared some of her experiences as an au pair in The Netherlands, and Steve told Kate and I that he was born in the UK, and lived in Reading, England, before moving to Ypres to take over management of "The British Grenadier" bookshop. He said he enjoyed living in Ypres better than the UK.
It was really nice to practice using French at the restaurant! I was rewarded with smiles from the waiter and the owner. The lunch, I must say, was 'c'est si bon!' Steve, Kate and I left the restaurant, our hunger satisified. I wish I had taken a photo of the restaurant's facade, at least...
During our visit to the cemetery, Steve gave us a little history on the founding of the Commission, which was created after the First World War as the Imperial War Graves Commission. A British man named Fabian Ware was the commander of a mobile unit of the British Red Cross: at age 45, he was too old to serve as a frontline soldier. When he arrived in France in September 1914, he was struck by the fact that there was no mechanism for marking the graves of those who were killed on the battlefield. Ware felt compelled to create this commission within the British Red Cross for this purpose. In 1915, his work was recognized by the Imperial War Office in London, and this unit was transferred to the British Army as the Graves Registration Committee.
As news spread about the committee's work, it began to receive enquiries from soldiers' families, requesting photos of their loved ones' gravesites. In March 1915, with the support of the Red Cross, the commission began distributing these graves photos, along with other useful information, in answer to these queries. In the spring of 1916, the Graves Registration Committee was renamed the Directorate of Graves Registration and Enquiries, in response to the fact that their work extended beyond just graves registration. Their work also extended beyond the Western Front, to include battlefields in Greece, Mesopotamia and Egypt.
The Imperial War Graves Commission was created by Royal Charter in May 1917, with Edward, Prince of Wales (the future Edward VIII) as its President, and Fabian Ware was named as its Vice-Chairman. Ware served in this capacity until his retirement in 1948.
Today, the Commonwealth War Graves Commission is responsible for the care of over 23,000 separate burial sites around the world, and the maintenance of more than 200 memorials.
Crosses of Sacrifice are only placed in CWGC cemeteries with 40 burials or more. Cemeteries with 1000 or more burials also have a Stone of Remembrance, to also commemorate of those of other faiths, or who might have no faith. Since the Ecoivres cemetery had less than 1000 burials--but more than 40--it had only a Cross of Sacrifice.
Over time, the CWGC cemeteries have evolved into what one sees today: a beautiful and peaceful 'English garden', with trees, flowers and shrubbery. Even in early November, these cemeteries have a stark beauty all their own.
As Kate and I walked among the rows of graves, Steve pointed out that some have epitaphs engraved on them: these were put there by soldiers' families. Strange thing is, British families were initially charged three-pence to place an epitaph: a lot of money for a widow with children back then! But Australian and New Zealand families were not charged for an epitaph. Don't know if Canadian families were charged. But eventually, the three-pence levy was abolished.
Here are a few photos of the graves:
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| Grave of a British soldier-- his epitaph is engraved below his name. |
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| Grave of a Canadian Soldier-- notice the maple leaf engraved on top. |
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| Grave of a British Royal Flying Corps Officer. |
And here's a wider view of the cemetery (below):
By now, it was nearly mid-afternoon, and time to return to Vimy Ridge for our 'tunnel tour'. So we bid farewell to Ecoivres, and went on our way. As it turned out, we got back in the nick of time: the tour group was already gathering near the tunnel entrance. It consisted of a British couple, and several Belgians. I think I was the only American!
The walking tour was led by a very knowledgeable young Canadian woman named Erica (photo left). She is working as an intern at the Vimy Memorial. She led us down a flight of concrete steps into the tunnel itself. We were accompanied by another young Canadian intern named Gaetan, who brought up the rear, in case anyone suffered from claustrophobia, and had to be led out. Thankfully, no one had a claustrophobic attack!
The Vimy tunnels were first created by the British, and then occupied by the Canadians, to face the German lines across no-man's land. It was cool inside, but not dark; there were electric lights at intervals along the walls. The walls themselves were of the local chalk stone, which made them easier for the tunnellers to dig into. And we found some interesting things along the way.
Inside a small 'room' carved in the tunnel, an unknown Canadian soldier had carved a tiny maple leaf on the wall (photo right). Was he doing this, so he wouldn't have to think much about 'going over the top'? Was he thinking of his loved ones back in Canada, and did he survive? We'll never know.
The carving is protected behind a Plexiglass barrier. I imagine many Canadian visitors have touched this tiny maple leaf over the years, with thoughts of their relatives and friends who died at Vimy Ridge.
Inside a small 'room' carved in the tunnel, an unknown Canadian soldier had carved a tiny maple leaf on the wall (photo right). Was he doing this, so he wouldn't have to think much about 'going over the top'? Was he thinking of his loved ones back in Canada, and did he survive? We'll never know.
The carving is protected behind a Plexiglass barrier. I imagine many Canadian visitors have touched this tiny maple leaf over the years, with thoughts of their relatives and friends who died at Vimy Ridge.
I can see them taking a short snooze on these small beds. The bed frames, table, and other items in here are all the real thing from the First World War.
Erica shared with us the fact that Adolf Hitler himself was stationed in the Vimy Ridge area briefly, before the April 1917 battle. She also told us that, after Nazi Germany conquered France in 1940, Hitler gave strict orders that the Vimy Memorial, and other similar First World War memorials, were not to be destroyed. The only memorials that were destroyed were French ones, that put the Germans in a bad light. So the Vimy Memorial came through the Second World War unscathed.
We also saw what was called a 'sap tunnel': Erica told us this is where gunpowder was packed in for those huge nasty landmines. It was very deep, and Erica said that Welsh coal miners created it, and did an excellent job.
Unfortunately, I didn't get a photo of the sap tunnel: my camera batteries decided to die at that point! So I had a bit of fumbling to do in my camera bag, to get new batteries....but I got them in in time for our next stop.
In this huge room (left), we found a wide range of what I call "The Stuff of War": all sorts of First World War relics dug up by the local French farmers, and others, in the years after 1918. We could see soldiers' helmets, barbed-wire poles, barbed-wire cutters, broken crockery, machinery left behind by the tunnel-diggers, and remnants of weapons. All this stuff is still being found nearly a century later.
Thank heaven there weren't any 'live' weapons or shells in this room. Erica did let us hold the metal remains of a Canadian Army rifle. That thing was very heavy, even in its rusted state!
Unfortunately, I didn't get a photo of the sap tunnel: my camera batteries decided to die at that point! So I had a bit of fumbling to do in my camera bag, to get new batteries....but I got them in in time for our next stop.
Thank heaven there weren't any 'live' weapons or shells in this room. Erica did let us hold the metal remains of a Canadian Army rifle. That thing was very heavy, even in its rusted state!
Near this huge chamber was a smaller one, about the size of a large walk-in closet. Erica told us about the soldiers who were standing in this chamber, back in April 1917: the Black Watch of Montreal. These men were dressed in kilts, and would be led by bagpipe players into battle. The Germans feared them on the battlefield: they called them "The Ladies From Hell", or "The Red-Patched Devils".
Whether they were more afraid of the sound of the bagpipes, or seeing these soldiers advancing dressed in kilts, is anyone's guess!
These Black Watch men were standing in this room on 8 April 1917, ready to go--until the attack was postponed for 24 hours! So these guys had to stand in this room that whole time, with no food and hardly any water. It must have made the men crazy, when they got the news to 'stand down'. No wonder they were itching for a fight the next day....!
Whether they were more afraid of the sound of the bagpipes, or seeing these soldiers advancing dressed in kilts, is anyone's guess!
These Black Watch men were standing in this room on 8 April 1917, ready to go--until the attack was postponed for 24 hours! So these guys had to stand in this room that whole time, with no food and hardly any water. It must have made the men crazy, when they got the news to 'stand down'. No wonder they were itching for a fight the next day....!
Kate was also more nimble than I in walking through the trench itself. I was overly cautious, I suppose: I was always nervous about turning an ankle on the bricks laid on the trench floor. But I got through it standing on two feet, as you can see below. It was breezy and a bit cold, walking round the mine craters, and through the trenches. I must say I look like an Arctic explorer, all bundled up! I was glad the trench provided a little shelter from the elements.
And, before this blog post goes on forever, I will stop, and see you for Part Three, of Day Twelve!
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