The UK in Germany
Eine britische Organisation hält in 150 Ländern das Gedenken an gefallene Soldaten aus den Commonwealth-ländern wach. Einer der 2.500 Friedhöfe befindet sich in Gmund, in der Nähe des Tegernsees in Oberbayern. Von KARIN HOLLY
Remembering the fallen
Flying Officer George Jeffery Austin piloted a mission above Germany on Wednesday, 14 March 1945. Those were tense and chaotic days. Yet it seemed that the Allied forces were finally beginning to take control. Austin and his Royal Air Force crew presumably knew this and were hoping the war was nearing its end. But they never saw victory. Their plane was shot down that very day. At the age of 22, Austin died just two days before his daughter, Valerie, was born. His headstone stands next to those of the men who were killed with him.
There are nearly 3,000 members of Commonwealth and Allied forces buried at Durnbach War Cemetery in southern Germany, about an hour south of Munich. The cemetery is next to a main road at the foot of the Alps and close to a lovely lake, the Tegernsee. For years, I would catch a glimpse of it as I drove by. Today, I decide to stop and learn more about the people interred here.
The setting is beautiful. But as soon as I walk past the long rows of headstones, I feel a deep sadness — mixed, though, with gratitude: sadness for those who died so young, leaving grieving families behind, and gratitude because they helped rid the world of a horrific regime.
Keeping watch
The Uk-based Commonwealth War Graves Commission (CWGC) maintains Durnbach. Britain contributes 80 per cent of the budget for such cemeteries around the world, the rest of the funds coming from Canada, Australia, New Zealand, South Africa and India. Soldiers buried or otherwise memorialized here are from at least 12 different nations, some outside the Commonwealth. Four are soldiers of unknown origin. Officials say all of them are men, all killed in the Second World War, and mostly pilots and flight crew.
As the daughter of a helicopter pilot, I feel an immediate connection. My dad is a war veteran, too. He flew numerous dangerous missions in Vietnam and is fortunate to have survived. Peter Francis of the CWGC says the men buried here showed extraordinary courage.
“German cities and industrial centres were well defended during the Second World War,” he says, “not just by anti-aircraft weapons and artillery, but also by night fighters [aircraft adapted to low-visibility conditions]. They took a very high toll on the attacking forces. You were supposed to do a tour of 30 operations before you could take a break, but your chance of making it through those 30 operations was very small indeed.”
Francis adds that the crews were aware of the risks, yet volunteered to fight and fly, despite having only a fifty-fifty chance of surviving their tour. The CWGC says it’s this remarkable sacrifice that they want to honour in perpetuity.
Back then, only wealthy families could afford to have the body of a loved one sent home for burial. In its early days, the CWGC elected to create a kind of “soldiers’ cemetery” to bury many of the fallen abroad. It was a conscious decision not to repatriate the remains. At the time, having an individual grave for a regular soldier was a new idea.
“Before the First World War, the idea that you would commemorate everybody who died during battle was an alien concept,” says Francis. “Sir Fabian Ware changed all that. He was determined that everybody should be remembered, regardless of rank, who they were, what colour they were or what faith they followed.”
A way to serve
Ware, director of a mining company at the time, was keen to join the army during the First World War. Told at the age of 45 that he was too old to serve, he signed up with the British Red Cross instead. In France in 1914, it became clear to him that the fallen weren’t being properly accounted for. Keeping up with the names and locations of the dead was one thing. Ware also had to make sure they would not be forgotten, even if they died thousands of miles from home.
This laid the groundwork for the War Graves Commission, which he founded in 1917. Edward, Prince of Wales, served as its first president. Poet Rudyard Kipling, whose son’s body was never recovered in the First World War, wrote memorial texts as its devoted literary adviser.
Ware is credited with creating the way we honour the memory of those who died in the two World Wars. Today, the commission takes care of as many as 23,000 graves and memorials in 150 countries and territories. It takes dedication, and more than a thousand people, to keep the memory of the fallen alive.
“Our staff is mostly made up of gardeners and stonemasons. They really work hard in the field, day in and day out, to make sure the graves are well maintained, the headstones are legible and clean,” says Francis. “Sometimes the graves are in the middle of nowhere. For instance, one of my colleagues in the Scottish Highlands hires a boat and rows across a loch to an old churchyard, where there is one Commonwealth war grave. He inspects it, makes sure it’s cleaned and cared for. Those are the kind of lengths to which the commission goes to make sure that people are never forgotten.”
Finding the fallen
As I walk round the Durnbach Cemetery, it’s clear that the War Graves Commission has created a peaceful, calming place. Reading entries in the cemetery’s guest book, one can see that there are quite a few people interred here who still get regular visits from families who live far away.
Some graves have fresh flowers and wreaths that have messages tied to them. At the base of one headstone — that of Air Gunner Sergeant R. A. Marett — I find a black-and-white photograph of a group of airmen standing in front of a plane. The men died on 8 January 1945. I silently thank the person who left the photo, for it puts a face to the name of a man who showed great bravery.
For Peter Francis, connecting families with their loved ones who have fallen is one of the most satisfying parts of his job. “I remember the case of a lady who was wondering what had happened to her brother,” he says. “The family never discussed it because it was too painful.”
The War Graves Commission managed to find her brother’s grave in Berlin and initiated a type of reunion. “On our website’s database, you can search freely for any persons we commemorate. It takes a matter of seconds,” Francis says. “You can find out a little about them and get the exact location where they’re buried. That’s what the lady did, and a few weeks later, we had a photograph from her standing at the grave with her family. She had been reunited with her brother. It’s one of the things that just makes this job one of the best in the world.”
Sir Fabian Ware’s principle of honouring all the fallen is easy to see here at the Durnbach Cemetery. Muslim soldiers are buried with their graves facing towards Mecca. Sikh and Hindu solders are cremated in accordance with their respective traditions.
“It caused a huge fuss at the time, when the commission was founded in 1917,” Francis says. “The idea that we would treat everyone equally and take all faiths into account caused quite a stir. In hindsight, the commission took absolutely the right stance. Today, nobody would question it.”
Some of the headstones show a cross, others the Star of David. There is also a “Stone of Remembrance” designed by the British architect Sir Edwin Lutyens, a monument that aims to pay respect to “all faiths and none”.
As I start to take my leave of Durnbach, it’s hard for me to imagine the guts it took to fly a mission that very likely wouldn’t end well. Francis says these men knew what they were in for.
“Night after night,” he adds, “they took to the skies because they believed in what they were doing. They believed it would bring a quick end to the Second World War. Their bravery and sacrifice are typified in the graves you can see in Durnbach, and indeed, all the other commission cemeteries across the world.”