Day Twelve: 12 November 2010, Part Three

Time to continue Part Three: more on Vimy Ridge, and then back to Belgium.

Kate and I walked along the edges of the mine-craters at Vimy Ridge (photo left), and took in the depth and width of these massive holes.   There are asphalt trails along these edges, which make it easier to walk close--but not too close.  If a visitor fell into one of these craters, it would take more than a couple of people to pull them out!   We also walked through some of the reconstructed trenches, which are now faced with stones, with concrete bricks in the walkways.

The wind and cold made us decide to stop in at the nearby "Welcome Centre" in the Vimy Ridge park.   It was a small building, which contained a display on Canada's contributions in the First World War.   The display was called "Vimy: The Great War and the Canadian Way" (photo right, below).   

After the Battle of Vimy Ridge, the British began to use the Canadian Corps as 'shock troops': men who could be counted on to get the job done, in seemingly impossible circumstances.   The Canadians were sent to some of the most difficult battles on the Western Front, and proved the British commanders right: they could get the job done.

But these victories came at a steep price: over 600,000 Canadians died in the First World War; a sizable number given their total national population at that time.

In the Welcome Centre, Kate and I met up again with Erica and Gaetan, our two young 'tunnel guides'.  They both hailed from Ottawa, Canada's capital, and were working as volunteer interns at the park.   We chatted with them for a few minutes.   Kate and I also signed the Centre Guest-Book, and I bought a book on the Vimy Memorial for a good friend in Canada, and also picked up some Canadian maple leaf/poppy pins and a free brochure on the Memorial.

It was now past mid-afternoon, and time to head back to Ypres.   Reluctanly, Kate and I bid our farewells to Erica and Gaetan, and went back to the van.   Our intrepid guide Steve was taking a well-deserved snooze in the driver's seat!   But he woke up in time to allow Kate and I to get back in the van, and be on our way.

I was sad to leave Vimy Ridge.   But I hope to come back again soon.

By the time we got back on the French expressway, it was raining steadily.   Steve turned the radio on to the BBC News, and Kate dozed off.   I sat and watched the French landscape go by the windows, and we crossed the border back into Belgium; soon we reached our final stops: Tyne Cot Cemetery, and the Canadian Memorial at Saint-Jullien.

Tyne Cot (so called because members of the Northumberland Fusiliers thought German pillboxes built here resembled "Tyneside Cottages") is located near the town of Passchendaele, scene of one of the worst campaigns of the First World War (entrance photo left).   The ground in this part of West Flanders has a high water table; today, there is a good drainage system in place to sluice off excess water.   But during the war, there was so much shelling and fighting going on, the system was destroyed, and the water had nowhere to go.  To compound the problem, it rained incessantly during the campaign, and all the troop movements on both sides turned the ground into boot-sucking, thick mud.   It was so deep that vehicles and artillery pieces would be completely mired, and both wounded men and animals would literally drown in this stuff.   It explains why so many men who fought and died here simply disappeared.

Ground was gained in feet--not miles.   And only God knows how many men went missing here.  It is no wonder that British war poet Siegfried Sassoon wrote in his poem Memorial Tablet: "I died in Hell....they called it 'Passchendaele'".    The name itself has become a symbol for wasted life in war.

We approached Tyne Cot Cemetery along a narrow road adjacent to a farm.  As I climbed out of the van, I could see the squishy ground in the farm field, with holes filled with water.   And it really brought home to me some of the horror the men buried in this cemetery must have experienced.   Very sobering.

Tyne Cot Cemetery is the largest British-Commonwealth war cemetery in the world--not just in Europe. It holds 11,954 graves, of which 8,367 are unnamed.   This area was captured by the 3rd Australian Division and the New Zealand Division on 4 October 1917.  Two days later, a cemetery for British and Canadian war dead was begun here.   The Germans captured the cemetery in April 1918 during their final attempt to defeat the Allies in the West, but it was finally retaken by Belgian forces on 28 September 1918.   Originally, it contained only 343 graves.   But after the Armistice in November 1918, it was massively enlarged. bringing in the dead from the surrounding battlefields and smaller cemeteries. Work on the cemetery was completed in 1922.

Tyne Cot's Cross of Sacrifice rests on one of the German pill boxes still in place; it was specifically placed there at the suggestion of King George V, who visited the cemetery in 1922, as it neared completion.   The inscription on the base (second photo below) of the Cross of Sacrifice reads: "This was the Tyne Cot Blockhouse captured by the 3rd Australian Division, 4 October 1917".

The countries whose soldiers lie in Tyne Cot are Great Britain, Canada, Australia, New Zealand, South Africa, British West Indies, Newfoundland ( which was a Dominion during the First World War; Newfoundland was not an 'official' Canadian province until 1949), and France.   The ground in which they lie was given in perpetuity by the Belgian people, in recognition of the sacrifice made for Belgium's liberation.   Ironically, there are also four German soldiers buried in Tyne Cot.

I found quite a few 'unknown' graves in Tyne Cot:

An 'Unknown London Regiment Soldier":
known unto God.

An "Unknown" New Zealand Soldier.

An 'Unknown" Australian Soldier.

But there were also 'known' graves in Tyne Cot too:

Grave of I. Whitfield,
New Zealand Auckland Regiment,
Killed 4 October 1917.

Here is the grave of a Jewish New Zealander, covered with small stones:

Grave of Lance Corporal S.W. Harris,
20th Battalion, Australian Infantry,
Killed 9 September 1917.

The numbers of gravestones in Tyne Cot Cemetery are absolutely staggering.   And we're not even talking about the numbers of those who have no known grave. 

 Behind me, as I took the above photo of the Stone of Remembrance, is a massive circular wall: the Tyne Cot "Memorial to the Missing".  When the Menin Gate Memorial in Ypres was completed in 1927, it was discovered there was not enough room to list all the names of the Missing as originally planned.   The cut-off date for the Menin Gate Memorial names was put at 15 August 1917.   

Meanwhile, New Zealand's contingent in the Commonwealth War Graves Commission declined to have any of their Missing engraved on the Gate at all; instead, it chose to put memorials to their Missing near the battlefields where they fought, and Tyne Cot was one of those locations.   It is integrated within the Tyne Cot Memorial, in an apse in the wall itself.

The Memorial Wall was dedicated on 20 June 1927.

The inscription reads: "Here are recorded the names of officers and men of New Zealand, who fell in the battles of Broodseinde and the First Battle of Passchendaele, October 1917, and whose graves are known only to God".   There are 11,176 New Zealanders, plus 33,783 members of UK forces in total on this wall (photo left).   And none of them have any known grave.  Absolutely horrifying....!   

By the time we left Tyne Cot Cemetery, it was quite dark, and the rain was picking up.   And there were still busloads of Belgian students getting off huge tour buses in the car park!   How they could see in the gathering gloom, only they, and their teachers, knew..

But as for Steve, Kate, and me, we were headed to our final stop of the day: the Saint-Julien Memorial: also known as "The Brooding Soldier".

The Saint-Jullien Memorial (below) commemorates the Canadian First Division's participation in the Second Battle of Ypres, in April 1915, and the Canadians' defense against the first use of poison gas by the Germans on the Western Front.   It stands 11 meters high, and can be seen for miles.   The ground on which it stands was known during the war by the Canadians as "Vancouver Corner". 

After the First World War, the Imperial War Graves Commission (the precursor to the present-day Commonwealth War Graves Commission) granted Canada eight sites - three in France, and five in Belgium - on which to erect memorials.   Each of these sites represented a significant Canadian engagement in the war, and it was originally decided that each battlefield would be treated equally and have the same kind of memorials erected.  

The Canadian Battlefields Memorial Commission was formed in November 1920, in order to discuss the means to hold a competition for each European site.   The eventual sculptor, chosen in 1922, for Saint-Jullien was one Frederick Chapman Clemensha; he finished second to Walter Seymour Allward, who designed the Canadian National Vimy Memorial.   Clemensha's design was supposed to also be placed on the remaining six sites.   But it was only used at Saint-Jullien.   

The name Canada can be seen inscribed on the monument's base.   There is also a tablet with this inscription:

"This column marks the battlefield where 18,000 Canadians on the British left withstood the first German gas attacks the 22nd-24th of April 1915: 2000 fell and lie buried nearby".

The Memorial was unveiled on 8 July 1923 by Prince Arthur, Duke of Connaught (third son of Queen Victoria and Prince Albert the Prince Consort).   The tribute speech was given by France's Marshal Ferdinand Foch, the former Supreme Commander of Allied Forces on the Western Front.  

I did get a look at the soldier's face, even while dashing through the raindrops to get photos.   He looks unbearably sad, and definitely brooding; his head is bowed, and his hands rest on a reversed rifle.   It is an outstanding Memorial, to honor the Canadians who fought and died in and around Saint-Julien.  

 I wish we could have spent more time here, but it was now pitch-dark, and the rain made visibility even worse.  I threw a quick kiss to "The Brooding Soldier", and told him he wasn't forgotten--and then joined Kate and Steve back in the van for the final leg to Ypres.

Along the way, Steve pointed out various First World War sites like "Kitchener's Wood" and "Mousetrap Farm"; we took his word for it, as the rain made it hard seeing in the dark.

When we finally arrived back at Steve's bookshop, Kate was going to look around for a bit before she caught a train back to Brussels, so she would miss that night's "Last Post" ceremony at the Menin Gate.  I needed to get back to Erna's, to write about the eventful day, and pack up for my return trip to the UK the following day.   So I bid safe journey to Kate, and Steve brought me safely back to Erna's.  He would pick me up in the morning and take me to the Ypres train station, to begin my journey to Lille, and subsequently back to Britain.

It was certainly another day to remember, on a trip to remember!

Day Twelve: 12 November 2010, Part Two

I'm back again.   To continue my journey in France with Steve Douglas and Kate:

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 Neuville-Saint-Vaast German War Cemetery was established by the French in 1919, for German war casualties from the regions north and west of Arras, France.   It's now maintained by the German War Graves Commission.  

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.

Steve told us this is the largest German war cemetery in all of Europe.   And it's not hard to see why.  

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.

In contrast to the Canadian cemetery we saw at Vimy Ridge, this German cemetery has hardly any landscaping, save for the trees planted here and there.  No flowers on the graves, no 'garden-like' scene at all.   It's all rather stark, especially in November.   It all seemed very lonely and sad.   And the cemetery seemed to stretch on forever, in long rows....

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.

By now, it was about noontime, and Steve asked Kate and me if we were hungry.   We both said 'a little', so off we went to eat!  

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.

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...

We left the village itself, and Steve then drove us to the nearby Ecoivres British Cemetery, one of the Commonwealth War Graves Commission cemeteries (photo left).   It contained graves of British and Commonwealth soldiers killed in nearby battles: many of them were Canadians from Vimy Ridge.

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.  

Steve shared with Kate and me some interesting facts about the setup of these CWGC cemeteries.   First, the Cross of Sacrifice (photo left).   These take their inspiration from the original design by architect Reginald Blomfield, and commemorate the faith of the majority of the men who are buried in the cemetery.  

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:

Grave of a British soldier--
his epitaph is engraved below his name.

Grave of a Canadian Soldier--
notice the maple leaf engraved on top.

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.

A bit further along, Erica took us into a larger side-chamber.  This room (left) was set aside for the trench-messengers: those men who carried written orders, trench supplies, letters from back home, etc., throughout the trench system, which was quite extensive.   Here, they could rest for a bit.  And it was reserved only for the messengers!

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!

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....!

As we climbed out of the tunnel, Erica informed us that she didn't have enough time to take us through the rebuilt trenches on a tour--but we were free to do so on our own.   So Kate and I did just that: and Kate was nimble enough to climb atop the trench firing-step and get photos for herself, and for me, of the shell holes and mine craters in No-Man's Land (photo right).

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!

Day Twelve: 12 November 2010, Part One

Before I begin: a thousand apologies for the gap in blogging.  The Christmas-New Year holidays were a bit wearying, and I just wanted to procrastinate.   But I am back now, to resume my travels in Belgium and France....

The rain that fell on 11 November finally stopped this morning, but it was windy and cold and still overcast.   After another awesome breakfast at Erna's B&B, I decided to walk to Steve Douglas' bookshop in Ypres; I was going on a First World War battlefields tour with him.   The walk took around 20 minutes--and this time, I kept my eye out for local landmarks, in case I had to walk back to Erna's that evening.  I arrived at the shop just in time: Steve was just ushering into his van the only other tour group member: a delightful young Canadian woman named Kate.   When he saw me, he motioned 'hurry up!', so I clambered into the van, and introduced myself to Kate as Steve slammed the door behind me.

Kate was in her early 20s, I imagined; she was from Victoria, British Columbia, and was working as an au pair in Amersfoort, the Netherlands, for an American couple's three children.   She had decided, however, to return to Canada for Christmas.   We were on our way to France, to visit the Vimy Ridge battlefield: Kate said she'd learned about the battle in school, but her brother back in Canada was much more knowledgeable about it than she.

So--off we went: Kate and I were the only people on this tour with Steve.   Which was rather nice, I thought; then Steve could take time to explain the various sights to us in detail.   And we were in for a great day.

On the drive to our first stop, Steve gave us a little background of what was happening in the Ypres vicinity during the First World War.   He would point here and there, to indicate where the Allied and German forces were situated on the ground.   The terrain was generally flat, but there were small hills here and there--and those hills and ridges were bitterly fought over between 1914 and 1918 by both sides.   There was a decisive British victory won in this area in October 1917: the Battle of Messines.

Our first stop was in the village of Wijtschate, and the Church of Sint-Niklaas (St Nicholas).

Inside, we found a lovely little Catholic church (photo left).   Steve took us down into the church crypt, and told us a bit about its First World War history: it was used as a German field hospital.   And one of the wounded soldiers being treated there was none other than....Adolf Hitler!   Hitler was a young corporal during the war, and was primarily a messenger between units in the trenches.   By all accounts, he was a brave one, too.   He was even cited for saving the life of one of his commanding officers, who happened to be Jewish!!

In the rear of the crypt, there was a war memorial, with both a Catholic crucifix, and what looked like a Jewish menorah, or seven-branched candleabra (photo right).   It wasn't difficult to close one's eyes and imagine what it was like in here during the war: wounded and dying men; the stench of blood and death; the cries of the wounded.  And the overwhelmed medical staff, dealing with all of the chaos.

There was also a medieval tomb in this crypt as well: (photo left) Steve told us it was the final resting place of William the Conqueror's mother-in-law: one Adela of France, Countess of Flanders.   Her daughter Matilda was William the Conqueror's wife.   According to what I've found on Wikipedia, Adela became a nun after the death of her husband, Baldwin V, Count of Flanders, and was instrumental in establishing various Catholic colleges (as in 'communities', not educational insitutions) in the region.   She died in September of 1079.   How she ended up in this relatively tiny village church is a mystery!

Unfortunately, it's an empty grave today.   Steve thinks the Germans removed Adela's bones and took them back to Germany, where they might still be today.   And where that might be, no one knows.

Poor Adela: she can't Rest In Peace, after over 900 years.....her son-in-law The Conqueror can't be too pleased about that!

The church, like most every building standing in this part of West Flanders, was destroyed during the First World War.  But you'd never know by looking at it today.

We left the church, and made a brief stop in the nearby village of Ploegsteert.  During the First World War, British soldiers called it "Plug Street"!   We stopped in front of the Town Hall, where there was a plaque on the wall dedicated to Winston Churchill (photo left).   From 1914 to 1915, Churchill was First Lord of the British Admiralty.   But in 1915, Churchill was forced to resign his post, because of the failure of the Dardanelles, or Gallipoli, campaign in Turkey (which was aimed at knocking Turkey out of the war on the German side), and he became a front-line officer in the British Army, stationed near Ploegsteert.

The plaque had been unveiled by his late grandson and namesake, Winston S. Churchill MP, and also shows a portrait of his grandfather.   Steve told Kate and me that he once led a battlefields tour for Churchill's great-grandson Randolph!

Leaving Ploegsteert, we drove over a small ridge, to the town of Messines, site of a First World War British victory--and where several huge mines were set off, as the battle began.   We passed one roadside farmhouse, and Steve told us there was a huge unexploded mine buried beneath this very house!   God forbid the owners decide to dig under it anytime: the explosion could be catastrophic!

Very soon, we got on a busy expressway, leaving Belgium behind and entering France.   The surrounding landscape was still pretty flat--but the villages all looked the same: red pointed roofs on the houses, and a church with a tall steeple in the center.   Traffic was busy, but it moved fairly steadily, as we headed toward the city of Lens.

Soon, we noticed a wooded hill looming ahead, with two 'towers' just above the treeline.  This was Vimy Ridge, and the 'towers' were the Canadian National Vimy Memorial (to give it its formal name), marking the site of Canada's great victory at Vimy Ridge, in April 1917, in the First World War.

We turned onto a narrow road, to enter the Park.   There were wooded areas on both sides of the road.  But we also noticed grassed-over mounds of various sizes: these were made by artillery shells (photo left) fired in the runup to the battle itself.   These woods were marked-off with warning signs: there is still a lot of unexploded shells and other ordinance buried in the ground, and the Park staff doesn't want souvenir-hunters going beyond the ropes and blowing themselves up!

Kate and I both noticed how neatly trimmed the grass around the shell craters was.  Well, Steve told us the reason for that: one, the Park staff use specialized lawn-mowers that don't press down heavily on the ground.  And two: they also employ SHEEP (photo right)!   Vimy Ridge has its own shepherd on staff to care for the sheep--and nary a sheep has been lost to a shell or mine.

Steve told us a very funny story about Vimy Ridge's sheep: when the Memorial was being restored and refurbished beginning in 2001, the annual Remembrance service in April was moved to the small Givenchy Road Canadian Cemetery in the Park.   As the service started, the attendees heard the sound of hoofbeats: the whole sheep herd came over to see what was going on!   As the service progressed, the sheep got bored and wandered off.   But as it ended, the sheep galloped back in force to gawk!

Soon, we approached the parking lot near the Memorial.   The three of us climbed out, and Kate (photo left)  and I asked Steve to take our photos, .   It was definitely windy and cold at Vimy Ridge; the wind blew right in our faces.   Good thing I had my heavier red sweater on, and I brought my hat and gloves.   I'd need them up on the ridge summit itself!

A little background about the site is in order here.  Vimy Ridge was in German hands starting in October 1914, and there were several French attempts to retake it in 1915 and 1916, but with little to no success.  The ridge itself overlooks the Plains of Douai, and rises here to 200 feet: you can see the whole plain stretched out in front of you, as we were to see for ourselves (see right photo).

In February 1916, the British XVII Corps took over the sector from the French.   They were based at the foot of the ridge, and the Germans attacked them in May 1916, attempting to force the British from their position.  They captured several British-built tunnels and mine craters, before deciding to stop and entrench their position.   In October 1916, the Canadian Corps relieved the British IV Corps stationed along Vimy Ridge's western slopes.   It was also the first time in the war that the entire Canadian Corps fought together in the same battle.

On 9 April 1917, Easter Monday, the Canadian Corps under British General Sir Julian Byng (supported by the British 5th Infantry Division, the 24th British Division to the north, and the British XVII Corps to the south) began its attack.   Three out of the four Divisions achieved their objectives easily, but the 4th Division had much more difficulty; the Third Division had to come to their assistance, holding up the overall advance.   By nightfall on the first day, the Canadians achieved their initial objectives.   On 10 April, Byng brought in fresh Canadian reserves to renew the advance.  These fresh units leapfrogged Canadians already in place, and captured their third objective line, including Hill 135 and the town of Thelus.  By 2 pm, the 1st and 2nd Canadian Divisions reported capturing their final objectives.

 By now, a heavily-defended knoll known as "The Pimple" was the only remaining major objective.   On 12 April, the 10th Canadian Division attacked "The Pimple", and overcame the German defenders.   By nightfall, Vimy Ridge was firmly in Canadian hands.

The Canadians had achieved what the French and British could not do: capture Vimy Ridge.   Since then, Vimy Ridge has become a symbol of Canada coming of age as a nation, separate from Great Britain.   But it also came at a great cost: almost 3600 Canadian soldiers were killed, and just over 7000 were wounded.

After the war, General Byng was appointed Governor-General of Canada (the viceregal representative of the Canadian monarch--in this case, King George V) in 1921 by British Prime Minister David Lloyd George.   Byng traveled the length and breadth of Canada, meeting Canadian citizens.   He also immersed himself in Canadian culture, and was especially fond of Canada's national sport, ice hockey.   He and his wife, Evelyn, never missed an Ottawa Senators game.  

Ironically enough, Lady Byng donated the trophy that bears her name--the Lady Byng Trophy--to the National Hockey League in 1925, which is given to the player who exhibits 'gentlemanly play and good sportsmanship.'

In 1920, the Canadian Government announced that the Imperial War Graves Commission (now the Commonwealth War Graves Commission) had awarded Canada eight sites--five in France, and three in Belgium--on which to build war memorials.  In September 1920, the Canadian Battlefields Memorial Commission was formed, and it opened a competition for Canadian architects and designers to build appropriate memorials.  In 1921, Toronto sculptor Walter Seymour Allward's design was the one chosen.  When Vimy Ridge was chosen as the site to place Allward's design, the Canadian Government started to negotiate with France, to obtain more battlefield land, and ended up with 250 acres at Vimy Ridge; in turn, the French stipulated that it be used to create a memorial and battlefield park.   

Construction on the Memorial (photo left) began in 1925, and took eleven years to complete.   It was dedicated on 28 July 1926 by King Edward VIII, in his capacity as King of Canada.   It was also one of the few official duties he performed before his abdication later that year.  Over 50,000 Canadian, British and French war veterans and their families attended the ceremony, which was also attended by senior Canadian, British and European leaders, including French President Albert Lebrun.

On our walk from the parking lot to the Memorial, Steve gave us a little background on the Memorial itself: it is faced with limestone taken from an old Roman quarry in what's now Croatia.   The two 'pylons' represent Canada and France, and have maple leafs and fleur-de-lys sculptures, respectively, on them.   There are also several massive human-figure sculptures in place as well.   The base of the Memorial is inscribed with the names of 11,285 Canadian soldiers killed in France, who have no known grave.

There are a number of representative human figures on the Vimy Memorial.   The two photos immediately below are the Mourning Parents, representing the mothers and fathers of the Canadian soldiers who died in the First World War.   Their possible inspiration is that of the four Michelangelo statues on the Medici Tomb in Florence, Italy.

The sculpture Sympathy of Canadians for the Helpless depicts (photo below)  a man standing above three bowed figures representing famine, disease and oppression.   It symbolizes Canada's defense of civilians affected personally by war and oppression.

The Spirit of Sacrifice (photo left) depicts a dying soldier in a crucifixion-like pose, holding a torch aloft to a comrade standing above and behind him.  It's a veiled reference to a portion of the poem In Flanders Fields, written by Canadian Army doctor John McCrae, which says:

"To you from failing hands we throw

the torch; be yours to hold it high".

The Spirit of Sacrifice is such a moving sculpture.   I then asked Steve to take a photo of me standing in front of it:

But to me, the most moving and beautiful sculpture on the Vimy Memorial is known as "Mother Canada". Her formal name is "Canada Bereft".   But to most visitors, she is simply called "Mother Canada".   She is a mourning woman holding what looks like an an olive branch, and she looks mournfully down on a sarcophagus below, which represents Canada's war dead:

In the photo of Mother Canada below, my Canadian friend Steve Douglas patiently waits for Kate and I to finish our walking tour around the Memorial:

The rather stormy-looking photo below is my favorite personal photo of the Vimy Memorial:

We eventually climbed down (and it IS a climb, especially for me!) the steps of the Memorial to the base, to see some of the floral tributes left on Armistice Day.   They were left by the Royal Canadian Legion's Europe branch, the Canadian Space Agency (I honestly didn't know Canada has a Space Agency!) and representatives from Canadian political parties.

Oddly enough, one of the memorial wreaths was left by  Gilles Duceppe , the leader of the separatist Bloc Quebecois, who wants to take Quebec out of the Canadian Confederation!

I wonder if the 'fallen' maple leaves were purposely left scattered round the Canadian wreaths?

And even stranger, but a wonderful gesture nevertheless--there was a wreath left by the American Battle Monuments Commission, (photo below) which oversees the care of US battle monuments and cemeteries scattered throughout Europe, from both World Wars:

It was very difficult to leave the Vimy Memorial; as you can see, it is a very moving site indeed.  But Steve asked Kate and me if we wanted to go on a "tunnel tour" in the Park: a guided walking tour through one of the restored Canadian-built battlefield tunnels.   We both said "Yes!": however, the tour wouldn't begin until 2 pm--and it was now just short of lunchtime.   So, to use the time well, he took us to visit German and French war cemeteries near the village of Neuville-Saint-Vaast.

And by the looks of it, this post is quite long!  So I will continue with "Day Twelve, Part Two"!