While today is Veterans Day in the US, over here it’s Armistice Day. In the US the veterans of arguably recent memory receive their due, and thoughts of tragic sacrifice stand side-by-side with a complex and, we might say confused, mix of Country First and vague dreams of peace.
The focus in our part of Northern France is decidedly that of sacrifice – namely The War to End All Wars, the horrifying Great War of 1914-17. 1.4 million French soldiers alone lost (not to enumerate the dozens of nationalities that took part), shot and drowned in ditches overflowing with mud and blood and the senseless pride of the people that sent them there.
To put down roots in this region is to understand that one stands literally on the bodies of the lost, young and old – signs on every corner, cemeteries in every town and village. Around here, war is not an abstraction waged by evil-doers. It’s what happened right here among us. The cost is understood - and that understanding is passed down.
Across the street, the mayor our small village is laying the wreath. In Ypres tonight - and every night - they'll be blowing the last post at 8 pm.
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