Stranger’s kindness brings war past home

REMEMBRANCE DAY Ypres battle inspiration for In Flanders Fields 170 cemeteries are constant reminder of WWI

YPRES, BELGIUM— It was too early in the year for poppies, so the County of Flanders’ infinite grassy fields shone a vibrant green. My Canadian travel companions and I had decided to make a detour by train to this Belgian city forever tied to a bloody chapter in our country’s history. Canadian troops had fought and died by the thousands in countless battles defending the Ypres area during World War I. The town itself had been razed by wartime German shelling.

“ You must be Canadian,” said a fellow train passenger, Davina Van Keirsbilck, 24, who was on her way to the historic town to visit her parents. “ Canadians have the most beautiful of all the English accents.” She then made a generous offer to give us a guided tour of this fascinating area when a train delay scuttled plans for a tour of the Ypres war sites, many of which are on the city’s outskirts.

Located only an hour and a half outside of Brussels, Ypres is a small community of about 36,000 people. It is a city that was literally rebuilt after the wartime shelling reduced it to rubble. Now the tidy cobblestone streets are dotted with charming chocolate shops, but the many cemeteries and war memorials surrounding Ypres remain a constant reminder of its grim past and its eternal connection with Canada

After the German invasion of Belgium in 1914, Ypres was the site of three major battles between the German and Allied forces seeking to gain control of the strategic high ground. In the Second Battle of Ypres in 1915, Canadian troops withstood deadly chlorine gas attacks, the first time the Germans used poison gas on the Western Front. The poem “ In Flanders Fields,” penned in 1915 by Guelph- born Canadian army surgeon John McCrae, immortalized the suffering endured by soldiers in the Ypres Salient. It also inspired the use of the poppy as the universal symbol of remembrance. The In Flanders Fields museum is located on the first floor of the market square’s Cloth Hall, a stately medieval structure. The quaint museum is set up like a small- town heritage exhibit, displaying the treasures of the local population’s ancestors as well as relics of trench warfare such as gas masks, bayonets and heavy artillery.

Hill 60 is one of the spots around Ypres where tourists can visit World War I trenches or wander through the nearby Hooge Crater cemetery.

Endless rows of white headstones line the carefully manicured cemetery. National emblems are etched into many of the markers. A sunset crest identifies a young Australian. A lion coat of arms pays tribute to a British soldier. Some stones are engraved with simple but moving epitaphs.

There were rows upon rows of headstones carved with maple leafs: Canadians who were buried in the ground they died defending. While I spoke my earnest words of thanks, a feeling of national pride overwhelmed me.

At nearly every intersection, clusters of green arrows point the way to the more than 170 military cemeteries located in and around Ypres: a constant reminder of the area’s violent past.

“ My grandma lived near here,” said Van Keirsbilck, as we drove across a rustic bridge.

“ This bridge was blown up several times throughout the war. It blew up ( near her) and she almost had a heart attack. Her nerves never really recovered.” Van Keirsbilck took us to the Canadian Monument, erected in honour of the 18,000 Canadian soldiers who relentlessly withstood chlorine gas attacks for 16 days. Two thousand men died holding the Allied line. The tall, simple monument looked slightly out of place in the middle of the sprawling verdant fields of grazing cattle. Van Keirsbilck said local residents call the area “ Canada” and, even today, unexploded shells are unearthed here.

“ My country is full of bombs. They come up every few years with farming. We’re used to it,” Van Keirsbilck said. The medical dugout where McCrae wrote “ In Flanders Fields” is located not far from “ Canada.” A layer of thick mud encircles the concrete cavities dug deep into the grassy hill. A memorial plaque rests on the edge of the trench, paying tribute to McCrae: a brave doctor, teacher and soldier.

Every evening at 8 p. m. the Last Post is sounded at the Menin Gate, a regallooking arch in central Ypres with the names of nearly 55,000 missing soldiers engraved in its walls. The hum from the hundreds of spectators subsides as three trumpet players perform the emotional ritual followed by a minute of silence.

Afterward, we each drifted off in different directions to explore the Menin Gate.

Just as I rounded a corner and scanned the names etched into the ivorycoloured stone, I came face to face with J. M. Doolittle, from the Canadian Rifles battalion. Once again I couldn’t help shake the feeling that I was close to home.