Murdo and Evelyn, Honored in the Arras 100 Celebrations

Arras, 8 April, 2017

Arras holds a special place in my heart. I spent six very happy months of my university career here. Although that’s a fraction of the three and a half years I spent in Chestertown, MD I have been back to Arras three times since I graduated, and I haven’t been back to Chestertown once.

I was eternally grateful that I got a few hours sleep on the flight from New York. Having to jumpseat worked to my advantage as I got to use one of the crew rest bunks. 

We drove right back to Arras from Tyne Cot, and I spent the time examining the PDF files on the Arras 100 Centenary that the Carriere Wellington organizers had sent out. In late 2015 one of my Twitter followers informed me that the Carriere Wellington (Wellington Quarry, an ancient chalk quarry on the outskirts of Arras and one of the starting points for the New Zealand tunnelers who made 12 miles of tunnels up to the German front lines at Vimy) were looking for pictures, letters, and personal details of those who had fought at the Battle of Arras, which includes Vimy Ridge. I had just posted my great-grandparents wedding photo, both in uniform, from October, 1918.

Of course, my father and I excitedly submitted their wedding photo, a picture of their two cap badges, and a copy of their marriage certificate along with information of their service. 

Sergeant Murdo Nicolson was number 86 in his regiment, and joined the 90th Royal Winnipeg Rifles on 4 August, 1918 in Winnipeg, Manitoba. Evelyn Vice joined the Royal Canadian Nursing Corps shortly thereafter from Ontario. They had known each other slightly in Ontario, but Murdo had emigrated from the Isle of Skye in Scotland in 1912 at the age of 20 to work for the Canadian Railroads and had moved to Winnipeg as part of his work. They lost touch, but when Murdo found out that Evelyn was in Flanders he spent his two days leave trying to track her down unsuccessfully. In April, 1915 the 8th Battalion was part of the line at St. Julien near Ypres, next to the French Colonial troops during the first poison gas attack of the War. When the French Colonial troops fled the chlorine gas, the 8th Battalion held the line for a full day in the face of the gas before reinforcements could be sent up. One of their number, a chemistry professor in civilian life, recognized the gas as chlorine because of the tarnishing of the brass buttons and instructed the men to urinate on their handkerchiefs and hold them over their mouths and noses. The ammonia in the urine would partially crystalize the chlorine and might save them. Even so, many died and Murdo ended up in a hospital for several week. Evelyn's hospital!

We were absolutely thrilled to be informed that they had been chosen as one of 120 photos that would be placed around the city of Arras from mid-March 2017 to mid-May 2017. Their sweet story and the fact that they had both served in Flanders and on the Arras front singled them out. Of course, we had to go see them! We could only manage to go for the weekend, but it was completely worth it.

We parked just outside the Grand’Place, and walked in. If you haven’t been to Arras, you must go— it has been beautifully rebuilt, and is a stunning town. At the corner where the Grand’Place meets the Petite Place (also known as the Place des Heroes) is a cafe with a dozen tables, in the prettiest corner of the main squares.  

We decided to sit down and have a drink and as we did, I looked up and saw one of these posters. To our surprise, it was Murdo and Evelyn! At the best spot in the whole city! Naturally we decided to stay with them. How many people have the chance to have a drink with their great-grandparents? We ended up staying there almost the whole afternoon, and we chatted with the people who came to look at them. We were quite surprised by how many people stopped to take their picture,  wanted to know more, and were thrilled to discover their story.

(I’m taking the picture, obviously.) This was definitely one of the coolest things we have ever done.

Two men who stopped by with whom we were chatting turned out to be from Winnipeg! And they are personally acquainted with Bruce Tascona, who wrote the regimental history of the 90th Winnipeg Rifles. We have the book, and while it’s interesting, we found it very difficult to get through. Murdo was twice mentioned in dispatches and had several decorations, but all his war records were destroyed in the London blitz in 1940.

There are a few errors, Murdo was born in Scotland, though Evelyn was born in Canada. They ended up in Vancouver, but they had known each other in Ontario.

The website with all their information is here: https://www.regardsdesoldats.com/86-nicolson

They are in very august company; around the corner are Billy Bishop, Baron von Richtoffen, the Colonel who was in charge of the defense for Arras, General Carton de Wiart, Siegfried Sassoon, Ernst Junger, and the most decorated nurse in the First World War. Not to mention all the other incredibly brave men who spent five years of hell on the Western Front. On April 9th, we decided to return and spend more time with them. Like the Oscars, “It’s a honor just to be nominated”, and we are incredibly honored and grateful that Murdo and Evelyn were included in the amazing Arras 100 celebrations.

Tyne Cot 8 April 2017

I missed the lovely bus that would take me right from Charles de Gaulle to Arras for only 12 euro because of a bomb scare in Customs. I ended up taking the TGV to Lille for a whopping 67 euro, and Dad and Simon (my younger brother) came to pick me up. We continued up to Tyne Cot Cemetery in the Ypres Salient, which we hadn’t previously visited. In our past trips we have focused more on the Canadian sites because my great-grandfather had emigrated to Ontario in 1912 when he was 20. 

In 2014 when we came for the Centenary of the beginning of the War, I discovered some wonderfully useful apps, including “Find a Grave” which is connected to the Commonwealth War Graves Commission database. Murdo’s brothers were mostly in the War too, but they were all in British regiments as they remained in Scotland. Murdo’s youngest brother John had been declared “Missing, believed dead” in October 1917 after the Battle of Passchendaele (3rd Ypres). I used this app, “Find a Grave” to locate him (you need a little information because there were so many war dead) and we discovered that his name was on the Tyne Cot Memorial Wall. 

For some reason, this memorial was more shocking than Thiepval, although it is much smaller. There are thousands of names on the walls, and since it is continuous and only about 8 feet tall there seem to be even more. It is a lovely memorial, on the “high ground”, meaning about 15 feet above the surrounding country. There remain two German machine gun posts, giant concrete bunkers that have held up very well to the years. Chunks are missing from the concrete, presumably from artillery or mortar hits, and you can look through the machine gun ports to the inside. Since the artery trenches that would have led to the entrances are all gone, you can only guess at where the entrances are, but on the left bunker there is a suspiciously large gap  right where a door should be, that the grass doesn’t quite cover. 

The main bunker is now underneath the cross and sword at the center of the memorial, and was taken by the Australians. Now the entrance to the bunker is marked with a laurel wreath of victory and a plaque commemorating the Australian victory and their bravery. There aren’t very many actual graves, and it wasn’t hard to notice that many of the original headstones have been replaced with marble. Perhaps as the concrete disintegrates they have been replacing them little by little? If so, that’s lovely.

 

Private John S. Nicolson was in the Gordon Highlanders. We found him without too much trouble. 

When we were heading to the little museum attached to the site, I was very startled to hear a voice reciting names coming out of the bushes to the left. I realized after a moment that, of course! it was a recitation of the names of all those listed on the walls. It’s a rather eerie sensation, but the whole point of the Memorial and of the Centenaries is to remember those who sacrificed everything, as well as those who made it home but lived in hell for years.

We left feeling quite somber, and headed into Zonnebeke, home of the Passchendaele Museum, to sit and talk about it, completely surrounded by dozens of people all wearing Canada sweatshirts, jackets, scarves, etc. We had a quick bite and a Passchendaele Beer (odd? but I suppose making a buck off of all the Centenary tourists is legit?) and headed back down to Arras.

Centenaire de la Bataille d'Arras: April 8-10, 2017

Well, here I am again on the way to Flanders. Dad and Simon got out the night before last, thank goodness. The weather disaster that started in Atlanta on 4/5 and moved up the coast reached New York on 4/6, which meant I was stranded in Florida. (Since our 4 day trip had turned into a 5 day, they nabbed us to work.) I got lucky and deviated from the deadhead flight, getting on the last JetBlue flight to White Plains, and the Delta flight cancelled.

Simon got business, but he let Dad have the seat since Dad had to drive later. They arrived OK, got the car, and made it to the hotel. I’m not sure what they actually did yesterday but that’s not important.

Someone who follows my WWI account on Twitter notified me in 2016 that the Carriere Wellington in Arras was putting on a Centenary celebration and memorial for the Battle of Arras, which began April 9, 1917. The Battle of Arras included the capture of Vimy Ridge which is widely credited with creating a national identity for the Canadians.

I had posted Murdo and Evelyn’s wedding picture, taken in Folkstone, England while they were both on leave, in 1918. He was in the 8th Battalion, The Royal Winnipeg Rifles, known as “The Little Black Devils”. Evelyn was in the Royal Canadian Nursing Corps and was stationed throughout Flanders during the War.

Dad and I spent a little time writing down interesting information about Murdo, and I included scans from the book that mentions him a few times, including the patrol where he was third in line and the first man stepped on a mine. The first man basically disintegrated, and the second man was blown up all over Murdo.

I was notified that we were chosen! Murdo and Evelyn’s picture had been picked to be part of the collection at the Musee des Beaux Arts in Arras, at the Palais Saint Vaast. Tomorrow, April 9 2017, is both Palm Sunday and the Dawn Ceremony, as well as about 6 other memorial services. I think we’ll try to go to all of them. Murdo and Evelyn are the only photo that has a woman in it, which I think definitely sets us apart!

I am currently sitting in the TGV station at CDG Terminal 3. I sadly missed my 12 euro bus direct to Arras that left at 8:45, and am now paying 63 euro to take a train one way to Lille Europe. What a rip-off. Dad and Simon are coming to get me at the Lille station, and we’ll have to decide what we want to do today. I’ll be getting in just after 11, so we have the whole day. I’m assuming that Dad won't mind driving, since I’ll be pooped. I can navigate and DJ, hahaha!

The photo is on the Trail of Remembrance, which starts at Place Marechal Foch (the train station) and ends at the Palais Saint Vaast. Good to walk the whole thing, I think. It shouldn’t take more than a few hours. Perhaps today we can also visit the German cemetery on the Somme, but I’m holding that lightly. More likely we will find Tyne Cot Memorial, where John Nicolson’s name is one of those listed as missing. Of course, he was “missing, presumed killed” at the Battle of Passchendaele which began in July, 1917. Then he turned up ten years later without any explanation and no-one said a word. So obviously we have to go find his name!!

I realize that I rode a jumpseat across the Atlantic to be in France for not even 2 full days… but this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and I’m not going to miss it.

The Battle of the Somme and the Sites to Visit

Today, July 1, 2015 marks the 99th anniversary of the first day of the Battle of the Somme, the worst day in the history of British arms.

The Somme holds a particular horror for several reasons; the poor planning, the lack of useful or important objectives behind the German lines, and the prodigal squandering of the best that British society had to offer. There are dozens of monuments along the Somme battlefields; some large, such as Thiepval, and some tiny, such as the memorial to the Ulster troops. All hold a particular poignancy. My personal favorite is the Newfoundland memorial at Beaumont-Hamel; I have written about it in a previous post. The baying caribou and the giant Highlander standing guard over where the German trenches used to be (they were disintegrated by one of the mines that were blown at the beginning of the battle.)



My great-grandfather fought on the Somme, but he never really talked about his experiences. He spent most of the war in Flanders and fought at 2nd Ypres (St. Julien, where his battalion held the line against the first chlorine gas attack) and at 3rd Ypres (Passchendale, arguably the most horrific battle on the British sector of the front) as well as being in the reserves at Vimy in 1917, and in Arras in 1917.

I'll give a quick overview of the battle for discussion purposes.

The Somme was the first real battle of Kitchener's New Army, which he had husbanded jealously in the first two years of war. When war was declared in 1914, thousands of young men rushed to enlist-- patriotic, idealistic young men who believed in the War as a new Crusade against the evil represented by the German Empire. They were middle class, upper class, working class, nobility; all wanted to "do their bit."

Kitchener was the only one in 1914 who believed that the war would run for 3 years, or possibly more. He immediately set to work to create a massive British Army that could field 2 million men by 1916, his "New Army". On July 1, the men of the New Army were instructed to walk together, carrying 160 lbs on their backs, through the German lines-- following closely behind the newly conceived creeping barrage, which was envisioned as clearing all barbed wire as well as wiping out the German defenders. Unfortunately this didn't work; the wire was not cut and the troops got tangled up in it, falling behind the barrage. German machine gun nests, which were for the most part undamaged by the barrage, then opened fire. The troops went down in waves. Even those who reached the German front trenches were unable to continue, as the wire had not been cut. There are reports of troops going back and forth along the wire trying to find a weak place to go through. They were literally sitting ducks.

As if that wasn't enough, the entire point of the Somme was to draw away German troops from Verdun. It was originally intended to be a French battle, with the British playing a small role on the left flank, and as an attritional battle to draw German troops. The Somme sector was the pivot-point where the French and British lines joined, so no major movements were required for positioning.
When Verdun began in February and showed signs of bleeding France white, (which indeed was Falkenhayn's plan) the planned Battle of the Somme became a mainly British venture. There were several French divisions on the right wing, but for the first time the British were the leading partner in a battle.

Haig determined to try to breakthrough, in a new and previously quiet sector; the new tactics of creeping-barrage were perceived as unstoppable. (As an interesting note, creeping-barrage was used with some success in Normandy and in Italy in World War II. The main difference was the improvement in wireless radio sets, which were widely available in WWII, from which the troops could radio their positions, correct the artillery, and arrange for the barrage to proceed according to the movements of the infantry. In WWI, communications depended on miles and miles of wire which usually got cut in the barrages, or on runners.)

If you get a chance to visit the Historial de la Grande Guerre at Peronne, a Picardie town that was part of the battlefield, they have some really amazing artifacts, artwork, and personal effects of soldiers from both sides. Not to mention the originals of Otto Dix's horrifying drawings.

The Ulster Memorial, near to Thiepval, is a beautiful scale replica of the tower that stands over the Ulster Division's parade ground in Belfast. It has a small chapel inside, and in the last few years (it wasn't there in 2005, but was in 2010) a small building off to the side with a mini-museum, several artifacts that have been found nearby, and a counter that sells tea, soft drinks, ice cream, and poppy crosses-- I think the Ulstermen would have approved.

There are many British cemeteries scattered around the countryside; it is quite common to see a 10'x10' cemetery in the middle of a farmer's field, and another not half a mile away. The French collected their dead into large military cemeteries for the most part, or were buried in local village churchyards. At Thiepval, the largest and most popular (and also, sadly, the ugliest) memorial in the Somme sector, the British and French share the memorial cemetery side by side. British on one side, French on the other. Allies to the end.
As with all the British memorials that list the names of the missing, every time one of the missing is located (which does still happen) they are placed in their own grave and their name is removed from the monument. It is beautifully done, but every time you see a blank space in the list of thousands of names, you know that someone has been found. To know that this is a living memorial, that it is still being updated, that the we are still searching for those who went missing 100 years ago-- it is incredibly powerful.

Next year will be the 100th anniversary of the Battle of the Somme. In some ways, the Battle and the men who fought it seem closer to us as time progresses. All the wonderful work being done to collect their experiences and memories is a little late coming, as the last WWI soldiers have passed on, but the incredible and growing attention paid to WWI all over the world is something that the soldiers, fighting "The War To End All Wars" would have appreciated.

VImy Ridge and the Trench and Tunnel Tours

When I was an exchange student in Arras, my father came to visit and we went to tour the Battlefields. It wasn't something I was particlarly interested in, but my dad's grandfather had been with the Canadians on the Western Front from February, 1915 to November, 1918 with only a few intervals in the hospital (from being gassed at St. Julien) so he had always wanted to go.

My great-grandfather, Murdo Nicolson, was in the front trenches at St. Julien (1st Ypres, April 1915) The Somme, (July 1916) Passchendaele (August-October, 1917) and a few smaller battles, including Arras and the Aisne. He was in the reserve trenches at Vimy Ridge (April, 1917) at Mont St. Eloi, where you can see ruined white towers left over from the French Revolution's closing of the monasteries.

Mont St Eloi was also where the French artillery had set up shop, giving them the only ground higher than Vimy within firing range.

The memorial that stands on Vimy Ridge is, without question, the most beautiful war memorial that I have ever seen. Of any war. As you approach it from the rear, you see two mourning figures (one on each side of the steps). THe memorial seems to soar away from you, straight up into the sky. When we came in 2005 we couldn't go to the memorial because it was closed for cleaning-- and what a difference that made! It's bright white, and against a blue sky with the sun shining it gleams like a beacon. On the front tower of the memorial, you see a dying soldier passing the torch to what looks like an angel.
Standing below the tower at the edge of the wall, lookin down at the fallen soldier's tomb, stands "Mother Canada" weeping for her lost sons. It's incredibly moving, and I defy anyone with the proper sense of reverence to experience it without tearing up.

The front of the memorial has two sets of stairs leading down to the grass, to the tomb of the fallen soldier. On the bottom front of the memorial, one on each side, stand figures representing scenes: "Defending the weak" and "The breaking of the sword."

On the tomb of the fallen soldier, people have left poppy wreaths, laminated cards, pictures, bouquets, and poppy crosses. I planned ahead this trip and brought little battery-operated LED tealight candles that I could leave anywhere and not cause a fire. I left one at Vimy, one at the statue of the brooding soldier at St. Julien, one at the German cemetery of Langemarck, and one inside Fort Douaumont at Verdun.

We didn't really take photos of each other on this trip (and actually I got really angry at the French family who kept putting their children in cutesy poses all over the monument to take -- get this-- Christmas photos) because it's not really the sort of thing that you pose with light-heartedly. It seemed to all of us to be disrespectful. However my sister took a side shot (unflattering, but oh well) of me, my father, and my brother standing by Mother Canada looking up at the front of the memorial. It shows how it affected us. At this memorial you feel... reverence. Almost like being in a church.
If you can only see a few memorials, Vimy is the top of the list. For general interest, I would also recommend the forts at Verdun and the American cemetery at St Mihiel. If you only have a day? Forget Thiepval, visit Vimy

About a mile away are the preserved Vimy trenches. Here, the Canadians filled sandbags with cement and lined the trenches with them. They also constructed cement duckboards. The effect is slightly jarring, but it's mostly really cool. They needed a low-maintenance way to keep the trenches in a similar condition to when they were built. The British/Canadian trenches are startlingly close to the German trenches. Inside the German front trench, there is a destroyed trench mortar still there. On the Canadian side there are sniper shields still in place.
One of the best things about the Vimy preserved trenches is that you can take a tour of the tunnels that the Canadians used to move up from the rear to the front lines. They waited in the dark tunnels for 36 hrs before the attack. Unfortunately, the tour isn't as cool as the first time I took it. In 2005 when my father and I went, there was a little alcove with random trench and tunnel tools in the corners, AND an unexploded shell halfway through the ceiling. They defused it before taking tours down, obviously. This time when we went they had removed that section to make an additional emergency exit. Of all the places to remove! But it's still worth seeing. You can see the huge craters left from the mine warfare of 1915-1916, but it's really the free guided tours of the tunnels and preserved trenches that make Vimy so special.

Beaumont-Hamel

Despite this being my 3rd visit to the Battlefields, a certain amount of time is required to recover and process the experience. I don't believe in ghosts but I do believe that events and actions can affect the spirit and atmosphere of a place. Beaumont-Hamel, the memorial to the Newfoundland division, is such a place. It's one of my favorite memorials of the Western Front, because (though small) it's beautiful, and erected out of love and a spirit of shared community sacrifice. The Dominion of Newfoundland and Labrador (Newfoundland didn't join Canada until 1949) was TINY. And yet in 1914, proud and stubborn Newfoundland declared that they would raise their own battalion rather than be part of the Canadian Army. Despite having a population of less than 3,000 people, they  were able to send over 600 men to the Western Front. On the first day of the Somme, they were ordered to go over the top around 9am, and more than half of them were killed. It was the end of the Newfoundland battalion, on their first day of combat.

Of course this was disastrous for Newfoundland. That was a huge percentage of the population, and an even larger percentage of the young, male population. The women of Newfoundland raised money to buy a part of the battlefield, to be left as a park. You can still follow the trench lines and see shell cratersss, and the great caribou stands over the park, baying defiantly towards the German lines. Dominating what were the German trench lines, a huge Highlander stands with his legs braced, overlooking what used to be a ridge and is now a valley-- one of the great mines that was blown on the first day of the Somme.

My brother really liked the Highlander; he stands as though on guard. It was raining the day we spent at Beaumont-Hamel, and our pants and shoes were soaked by the time we got back to the car. There are two small Newfie cemeteries at the bottom of the park, and behind the Highlander are 12 graves of men of the Black Watch. The flowers planted in the cemetery are from Canada, and the park is covered in maple trees that were planted as part of the memorial.

Large portions of the park are roped of with electric fences; just like the rest of the Western Front there are still large quantities of unexploded ordinance, so make sure you keep to the paths! We were especially prompted to pray at Beaumont-Hamel; there is a sense of peace and melancholy that is irresistible.

We made a circuit of the park, even in the rain. When it rains on the battlefields, although it's uncomfortable, it seems normal-- and at least no one was shooting at us, and we could go home and get dry!

The Last Post

I'm usually very careful about which charities I donate money to. There are a lot of scams out there, and there are even more legitimate charities that spend most of the money on bureaucracy and their own staff than on their projects.
That being said, I send money every year to The Last Post Association in Ypres. In 1928, the British Legion and the Old Contemptibles gave four silver trumpets to the town of Ypres, and every night since men of the Ypres Fire Brigade blow the Last Post at the Menin Gate at 8pm. The only exception was between 1940-1944, for obvious reasons. The Last Post Association state that, on the evening that the town was liberated, the practice began again.
On 9 July, 2015 the Last Post will be blown for the 30,000th time at the Menin Gate.

In 2010, we came for my 25th birthday (yes, I know-- I do get teased for my taste in vacations) because my birthday is 11 November. My great-grandfather was at 2nd Ypres (St Julien) the Somme, 3rd Ypres (Passchendaele) and in the reserve trenches at Vimy Ridge in 1917. (He wasn't part of the first assault, but he did take part in the battle.) On 11 November every year, there is a Remembrance ceremony at the Menin Gate. It was incredibly powerful. We were a part of the Poppy Parade, which meets at St. George's Memorial Chapel that morning, and marches through the streets to the Menin Gate, so we were able to be under the Gate during the ceremony.
The Fire Brigade blew the Last Post, and the Mayor of Ypres spoke. He said that he is asked regularly how long they plan to do this? The Last Post and the 11 November Remembrance Ceremony? He was entirely serious and grave when he leaned forward into the microphone and said, "Forever. We will do this forever." And that is the motto of the Last Post Association.

Our first night (14 August) we went to the ceremony. There were easily 700 people present; and the South Wales Men's Choir were present and sang two hymns. The Welsh National Memorial opened in the Ypres Salient on the 16th, and they were there to represent Wales. The Ypres police stop all traffic through the Menin Gate at 19:30, at 19:55 the crowd is shushed, and at 20:00 the Last Post is blown. On the night of the 14th, the Coventry Airborne Association were also present, and the winners of the Beaverbrook Vimy Prize-- Canadian high school students who come over to see the battlefields and learn about their country's place in the War.

Just as when we were there for the 11 November Ceremony, people who lost family members in the War, especially those who are remembered on the Gate, can request to lay a Poppy Wreath as part of the ceremony. This time, 4 families laid wreaths. On 11 November, about 20 laid wreaths, and for me the most moving were a party of Sikhs who had traveled from India to lay wreaths in remembrance of their grandfathers who had died in the Ypres Salient fighting for the British Empire. Soldiers from all over the world are remembered on the Menin Gate. Indeed, their names are spoken daily by those who come to visit. They will never be forgotten.