Where the poppies blow
Every year when Anzac Day comes around, I'm always reminded of one of my favourite drives in mainland Europe. Although the Anzac spirit derives historically from the Dardanelles, as well it should, I've also been drawn to places like Ypres, the Somme and Passchendaele in recent years, especially the latter, where more New Zealanders fell than even in Gallipoli.
I particularly remember a piercingly clear day in Belgium near Dinant on the River Meuse when, after a day of technical briefings and presentations with Mercedes-Benz, I had to make my way back to Brussels.
Instead of taking the direct route, my driving mate, fellow journalist Brian Cowan, and I took the longer, more serpentine way back to the capital, correctly assuming it would be a more interesting drive.
"Interesting" was an insufficient word with which to describe the experience and I wouldn't have missed it for the world.
We became delightfully lost on a twisting switchback of lanes linking small villages. The route was dotted with a series of tiny well-kept roadside shrines and it seemed that every metre of roadway was lined with a thin necklace of poppies. Nothing regimented, just a slim red skein of flowers.
We were in what people call inelegantly, but accurately, "the killing fields", and that day we were to pass through places that saw the misery of two World Wars.
Close friend Brian and I were moved sufficiently on our journey to stop and acknowledge every memorial and to note the surprising number of crosses and upright slabs in the war cemeteries marked with a New Zealand fernleaf, with a dear lost one's name, date and rank below it.
It appears that although they may have fought together under New Zealand's flag with its Union Jack, blue ground and four white-rimmed red stars, every fallen Kiwi soldier lies beneath a representation of our silver fern
They mark quite starkly New Zealand's contribution to the then British Empire's forces and put them in great perspective, illustrating the scale of the carnage. We sent more than 100,000 out of a population of just one million for WWI, and to match that number at the time relative to its population the US would have had to send 10 million.
That's not a criticism - thank heaven the US did enter the conflict, otherwise WWI's cruel stalemate could have lasted for years, or worse, we'd have lost our poor boys for nothing.
It's a sobering but unmissable experience driving around France and Belgium, looking perhaps for family names and long gone relatives, as many Kiwis do. Taking a hire car or short-term lease vehicle is the best way. I've done this a few times, and I'm afraid I'm of the type who needs to take regular "sob stops".
A really pleasant thing about Belgium - and this can be said of rural France just as much _ is that if you preface your opening words by explaining you're visiting from New Zealand when you stop for a meal or directions, you'll be accorded almost gushing respect and attention. Add that you're touring battle sites or cemeteries looking for family connections and it gets even better.
From such conversations, you may even be shown memorials a little off the beaten track.
Also, if you have a friend with a working knowledge of the works of Siegfried Sassoon and Rupert Brooke, as I did in the form of Brian during that drive from Dinant, the experience will be moving, and life-changing.
One abiding memory - not unlike the view you get of winery plantings in this country - is the sight from the moving car as you drive by each cemetery. There's an uncanny. flashing diamond-patterned blur of green and white geometry as perfectly laid-out stones and lawns offer memories of sacrifices we must never forget.
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As a Kiwi based in London at the moment, I have just spent a long weekend exploring the Western Front with some Kiwi and Aussie friends. We started with the D-Day beaches in France, travelled via the Australian Memorial at Villers–Bretonneux and ended in Ypres for a really lovely Dawn Ceremony on Anzac Day. I agree with Dave, I would highly recommend this trip. It is not until you are standing in the middle of 12,000+ graves does the sheer scale of it all really hit you.
Thank you to the Commonwealth War Graves Commission and the Memorial Museum Passchendaele for organising a wonderful ceremony on the 25th.
Thank you for the article. It makes one realise that the Western Front seems to be less acknowledged on Anzac Day. Anzac day seems to focus, for what ever reason, on the birth of nationhood, the comming together of Australian and New Zealand soliders. I had a grand father who came back from the Western Front, he rarely spoke of his time there, but when he did it always had to stop as it brought back such memories that he could not carry on finishing his story. And that was 50 years after he came home. He did how ever have very firm views about the French.
a visit to the western front is a must for any kiwi. when living in belgium in 2005, i drove to the pas de calais to find the grave of a great great uncle who died of wounds in france two months before WW1 ended. i later sourced his records from the NZ archives and Army, and twice returned to europe to follow the trail (almost obscured because his records are so sketchy) across the fields and villages in which he spent his last years. on the second to last trip, i took some small stones which nestled against his grave and took them home to taranaki, where i laid them at the feet of his parents' grave - imagining that the tiny particles of soil clinging to those stones would mingle with the NZ soil in which his parents were buried. in turn, i took a few small stones from his parents' grave and on my final pilgrimage, placed these at the foot of his memorial stone. his remains will never return to NZ soil, and neither his parents, siblings or close family members were able to visit the cemetery to lay their thoughts and dreams at the foot of his simple white tombstone. it is a privilege to have been able to make those trips, and satisfying in some deep personal way to have done so on behalf of a family ripped apart by the circumstances and distances of that war.
I have also been to the D-Day beaches in France. I recommend going to Le Quesnoy, in the north of France, if you try and be there for ANZAC day its amazing. All the street etc are named after things in New Zealand eg. Place des All Blacks.
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I lived in Brussels for 18 months and so was able to make several trips to Flanders fields and other battle sites both for my own pilgrimage but also to help others find lost relatives. I must congratulate whoever designed the NZ headstones as the silver fern design is quite distinctive even in amongst 1000's of graves.
For anyone planning a trip to this area I can recommend a couple of "must have" resources. First of all has to be the Commonwealth War Graves Commission web site. This is an excellent facility for finding the location of a fallen soldiers final resting place and the directions to the grave or memorial site are quite accurate. I have to say I was saddened to discover that my Great Uncle was one of those with no known grave but at least I was able to visit the memorial where he is listed. Be prepared for this possibility due to the very large number of soldiers who suffered this fate, there were over 10,000 names of soldiers on the memorial I visited alone.
Next is a map that is available showing all the memorials and military graveyards in the Flanders area and also the frontlines at various stages of WWI. I can't remember exactly where I got it but it was either Waterstones bookstore in Brussels or from the Flanders Fields museum in Ieper (formerly Ypres).
And if you are in that area, the Flanders Fields museum is an excellent visit. Located in the Gothic Cotton Market (rebuilt after WWI) it gives a good insight into the lot of a soldier during the Great War.
Good luck, I hope this helps.