The European capital

One hundred years ago today, the capital of Belgium in Brussels fell to Germany.  The Belgian government had already been relocated to Antwerp.

The occupation of Brussels in the context if this trip is symbolic because ultimately, this is where the road through Belgium leads.  This is not just the capital of Belgium.  This is now the capital of Europe, where the European Parliament sits. The city of today represent the failure of the invasion.  And it doors not merely represent the failure of the invasion but the failure of any power, be it France under Napoleon, the Soviet Union or Germany to completely dominate the European continent for its own ends.

I arrived here, again, one hundred years later to see what there is in the heart of Europe.

Around the crater

The belgian eternal flame most
accurately represents the horror of which
it wants you to remember.

As I mentioned in a previous post, I attended a commemoration of the destruction of Fort Loncin on August 15th.  This was not the first fort, nor the last fort to fall, but was the only fort that didn't surrender.  It didn't surrender because it was so completely destroyed.

At 5:20pm on August 15, 1914, a shell struck one of the ammunition magazines killing over 300 soldiers who were present.  Of those who were killed, 250 of their bodies were never recovered.  They are likely all buried under the fort, or even disintegrated entirely.

In the 19th century, it was determined that one of the ways to enforce Belgian neutrality was to establish defensive positions along the routes used by advancing armies for centuries.  The main cities chosen as these fortresses were Liege and Namur.  Originally the designs of the fortress were specified to withstand bombardment based on artillery from the 1880s.  Unfortunately, by 2015, the Germans had developed firepower that far exceeded the capabilities of the forts.  Where they were meant to last for months, while the Belgian army mobilized, they only lasted a week.  That critical week may yet have been enough to change the outcome of the war.

Shoes representing the never recovered soldiers.

I was quite keen to visit many of the forts, but really most of them are not accessible to the public.  Either they have been built around or are owned by organizations and used for other purposes (maybe James bond villain bases).  When learning about the possibility of visiting the forts, I discovered that there would be this commemoration event.  I contacted the email address listed on the forts web site to find out about it, and also to clear up some confusion I had about visiting the fort.  For example, for some reason, it seemed to me unlikely that an event that claimed the "Presence Royale" (!!!) would be open to the public.  I confirmed in fact that I could attend, and was determined to do so.

It was a gusty but warm afternoon, with occasional showers.  Before the event, visitors were allowed access to the fort and I toured the grounds a bit.  When you think about a fort you might think of a giant stone or concrete structure jutting from the earth with high impenetrable walls and bristling cannons.  These forts, however, are modern 19th century forts and seemed to have been designed quite differently.  It seems that overall they are flush with the earth, I think to avoid taking direct fire from enemy field cannons.  Instead of ascending in to the fort, one descends.  This seems like a foreshadowing of the earth entangled nature of the trench warfare to come.

Soon enough, I left the fort to attend the first part of the ceremony.  It began on the outside the fort at the monument for the fort.  There a few speeches all of which were in French, but I think I may have recorded, although probably at low quality.

The crater is very large.  There seemed a sense of
camaraderie with us all standing around to pay respect. 

Afterward, we all went to the interior of the fort and gathered around the enormous crater left behind by the explosion.

As mentioned, the invitation to the event specified "Presence Royale" which I hoped meant that King Philippe would be present.  However, it appears a representative of the king was sent in his place, although I have not been able to identify who it was.  It would have been nice to be in the presence of the royal as I had never seen a monarch before, and it would have been the great grandson of Albert I.  It's understandable as King Philippe had recently attended what seemed to be a very similar event at the fort just on August 3rd.

There were modern soldiers standing upon the fort itself, and re-enactors wearing uniforms similar to those worn by the Belgian army in 1914 at the start of the war along the path to where a massive, destroyed turret lies and where a bronze figure protrudes from the earth holding aloft a torch.

The remains of an enormous turret after 100 years.

There were more speeches in French, which I think I have even worse recordings of before the King's represent crossed the crater and lit the torch.

The soldiers stood at attention and the band played while the Presence Royale saluted the flame, honoring what is now considered a military cemetery.

At precisely 5:20, one of the defense turret cannons were fired.  This was quite a shock as anyone who has ever heard a cannon fired before can attest.  The noise is unlike how it is depicted in movies.  It's short like a firecracker, but extremely loud.  The recording I made itself sounds like what you might hear in a movie, as it's likely that's why film cannons sound the way they do.

After all was complete and the Presence Royale departed, we descended from the crumbling walls of the fort.  I saved someone from falling off, while another person in turn helped me down.  Then I returned to my flat in Liege.

The end of fort Loncin

One hundred years ago today, Fort Loncin was destroyed by a German "Big Bertha" howitzer.  It was the only fort surrounding liege that did not surrender, but rather knocked out of action when one of the howitzer shells hit the fort's ammunition magazine.  Most of the fort's occupants were killed.

I attended the centennial commemoration however I don't have non-phone internet access even though I paid t-mobile a bundle for it.  So I will write about it tomorrow from Amsterdam where I assume the bandwidth is plentiful.

The Battle of Mons

Grand Place, Mons

One hundred years from next Saturday (August 23rd), the British Expeditionary Forces (BEF) saw it's first action in Europe when it engaged the advancing German army outside the Belgian city of Mons.  The British were defending the city but were eventually overwhelmed and began their retreat to the Marne outside Paris.

You can tell that the city is preparing for the centennial.  For one, there are signs announcing that it's preparing for the centennial.  Another is that there seem to be Union Jacks (and in the case of this picture, Canadian flags) everywhere.

This city remained in German hands until the end of the war.  So there was little fighting.  The city is largely not like it would have been in 1914 as it is in a very industrial area of Belgium and has obviously been developed.

Germans and Britons together.

Soon after the battle, the Germans established a military cemetery at the town of Saint Symphorien where they buries with honors dead from both sides of the conflict.  It is one of the few places you can see soldiers from both sides buried beside each other.

The cemetery contains the first and the last Commonwealth casualties of the war.

On August 4th of this year, just last week, there was a special ceremony held at this cemetery where the British Prime Minister and members of the British Royal family were in attendance.

This memorial is dated August 4th, 2014.  It's likely that it was
the result of the ceremony held that day.

Edward William Mason: This lucky,
unlucky fellow has great great
grandchildren.

 It seems a large number of descendants were present on that day.  I'm starting to see posts from them on various travel sites in the region.  They left behind details about their relatives, including descriptions of how tall their family tree has grown.  It was a reminder that I have my own family dead in this war, even though they were on the other side and fighting on another front.  I wish I could find my great grandfathers grave.  Most likely he doesn't have one.

Pretty Cities

Took a couple of days with Jon to stop observing calamitous war destruction and instead spend some time in some of Belgium's prettiest cities.

Brugges

Brugges from the Belfort

Spent an afternoon and morning in Brugges, which must be Belgium's most popular city to visit.  It's a proper old European city that has been fortunate enough to be largely untouched by the wars.  This plays a large role in it's being the prettiest city.  The center is dominated by a giant, visitable belfry (or Belfort as it is known) which is treacherous but rewarding to climb.

The city also has canals with folks taking boat rides, etc.  We found a chocolate shop that seemed to be in to bulk sales to tourists.  Belgian chocolate is still good in its brick-like state.  It may not be necessary to get the fancy ones, although the only way to verify this is through scientific experimentation.

The weathers has been a bit rainy, but that's ok.  Like boy-scouts we are prepared for such things and it does not bother us.

The Belfort from below

View from a bridge on a canal-square.

Another canal segment.

Lucifernum

The interior of one of the well decorated Lucifernum room.
Jon approves of the choice of style.

We were referred to Lucifernum as a nighttime place.  It's not a mainstream place, but rather a private residence that the owner has decided to open to the public for rum-based drinks.  The Sunday evening we went was a rather tame evening, but with what seemed to be a large group of latin American folks.  It was sort of a relief to me to be around people whose language I can begin to understand.

The outside and main social area of Lucifernum that evening.

Ghent

On the way back to Brussels to drop Jon back off at the train station for his journey back to Manchester we stopped off for a light lunch (and rain soaking) at the old market city of Ghent.  Apparently this used to be the largest city in Europe.  The unique style of this city was that the squares felt bigger and more airy, and even though the centers had not been demolished it deliberately mixed in some very modern style with the old.

Also it had a really cool castle.

An example of very modern displays mixed in with old buildings
and ghost buildings.

To Flanders and back again

On Friday, my old University chum appeared in a train station in Brussels.  I parked my car a completely different train station in a vain attempt to pick him up.  Luckily I got lost and accidentally wandered to the wrong train station and found him before my phone ran out of power.  Very typical Great War August day where even the best of plans founders upon the shoals of poor execution.

Soon enough we were righted back on to our original scheme, which was to visit various towns and cities in Flanders.  Most significantly we wished to visit Ypres, which is often pronounced "Eep", which is what the men in the trenches of WWI said when they saw a rat, or as the British called it, "Wipers", rat or no rat.

The Ypres salient was where the Belgian army ended up after Germany captured most of the country.  They were able to stop there at the edge of Belgium in part by planned flooding, but mainly because they linked up with the French army.  Eventually, the British joined the Belgian, French and in the end Americans, as everyone settled in for what would be 4 very long years of attrition and stagnation - trench warfare.

The main square of Ypres, looking very much like it
did in 1913, minus all the automobiles.

The town of Ypres itself is very beautiful, with the typical cobble stones I've become used to seeing in European cities, old churches and tightly crowded stone building fronts.  As typical, it has a main central square with a cathedral, brasseries and other assorted shops and attractions.

Another view of the main square,
this time in 1919.  Still no
automobiles.

The town of Ypres was of course bombarded heavily during the war and almost completely destroyed.  The fact that it currently resembles so splendidly the original town is testament to how much effort went in to its reconstruction.

In the central cathedral is the In Flanders Field museum.  The museum provides a good overview of what the war was like and what events transpired in the Ypres salient.  I must admit I was not as moved as the "Expo" at the Liege train station, however, it's certainly worth a visit when in Ypres.

Memorial to Queen Victoria's Rifles,
complete with representative
British person.

The entire area around Ypres is a patchwork of farms, cemeteries, monuments, craters and unexploded munitions.  Someone told me that they still blow up ordinance twice per week.  Every week.  For almost 100 years.

The cemeteries seem to be everywhere, and represent every country that fought in the salient.  There is even a German cemetery, which we did visit.

Everywhere and at every cemetery can be found endless lists of names.  Names on the tombstones themselves, names of soldiers that were missing, and some of those missing placed into graves of unknown soldiers.

Speaking of unknown soldiers, when we were at the Hooge Crater cemetery (an unexpectedly appropriate name for the crater), Jon and I got to talking about the British Tomb of the Unknown Warrior.  Apparently what was done was that bodies were selected from all the major British battlefields and brought under one roof.  There a blindfolded selection of the bodies was made and one was chosen to be buried in Westminster Abbey among the nations most honored individuals.  One of the most powerful ideas of this arrangement is that since the body was chosen from all the battlefields, and nobody knows which, the soldier could be the body of anyones missing son and husband.  In this way, it would have been cathartic for the whole country.

One of the few places around Ypres that has not been
reclaimed by humanity.  The misshapen ground is
as close as possible to the conditions of the whole
area in 1918.

Visiting other sites, we fond there are very few battlefields and structures that are well preserved, and rightfully so.  In fact, we learned that the British had wanted to preserve Ypres as it was, in its destroyed form, as a kind of holy ground.  While the multitude of monuments in the area around Ypres are appropriate, a greater monument still is to return the land to life... life lived by people.  The Belgian government turned down the British request and created incentives for the farmers to return to the land.  The battlefield were too toxic to be farmed normally, and thousands of bodies needed to be removed, but in time, the area was restored to farmland.

Tyne Cot cemetery, one of the larger ones for British Commonwealth
soldiers of the war.

In the evening, we returned to Ypres and another monument put in place by the United Kingdom - Menin Gate.  There we attended the "Last Post" ceremony, which has been conducted every night since July 2nd, 1928, except of course during Belgian occupation during the Second World War.  The Menin gate itself is an impressive monument which is engraved with thousands and thousands of names of the British and British Commonwealth dead all over its structure.  The names are on the interior walls, they are on the external walls where stairways of names guide you to the park around the old wall of the city.

The ceremony was well attended and included some unidentified persons of importance.  It is with great apologies that I must say that I failed to record the sounds of the ceremony.

I leave now with reference to an explanation of why people in Europe wear poppies on Remembrance Day.  It comes from a poem "In Flanders Field" written by a Canadian physician during the war.  It was in this area that the poem's author penned it.  He died of sickness before the end of the war.

Heavy casualties

Despite having suffered heavy personal casualties, I've returned to blog here after a long weekend of silence.  The reason for the silence is that I was visited by my friend Jon from Manchester England, and frankly, hanging out with him on the road is more fun than writing a travel blog.  But I'm back.

Speaking of back, there have been heavy casualties in the form of some kind of thrown back muscle apparently on account of a sedentary life-style.  It happened on Saturday morning just before attempting to engage the Ypres salient and threatened to put an end to the weekend and waste a persons perfectly good trip all the way from Britain.  That is, if it was serious enough that I could not walk.  Turns out these things are best dealt with by moving around so I just took a bunch of pain-killers and soldiered on.  Pretty lucky all told that it wasn't very serious and that there is modern medicine to help you see through your tears.

It's still a little difficult to move around but this just means I won't be able to simulate jumping in to trenches and such.  Avante!