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'I died in hell': sacrifice of thousands remembered at Passchendaele 'I died in hell': sacrifice of war dead remembered at Passchendaele
(35 minutes later)
As the sun went down on Ypres, the shale grey stone floor of the old Belgian town’s Menin Gate, the world’s first memorial to those who fell but who were never found during the first world war, was slowly covered by 20,000 blood-red poppies falling from its high arch. As the sun went down on Ypres on Sunday, the shale grey stone floor of the old Belgian town’s Menin Gate, the world’s first memorial to those who fell but who were never found during the first world war, was slowly covered by 20,000 blood-red poppies falling from its high arch.
A crowd numbering in the thousands, including the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge, Theresa May and the King and Queen of Belgium, Philippe and Matilde, watched on as the paper flowers drifted down in the still evening air. The young voices of the national youth choir of Scotland, standing below the gate’s 14-metre high ceiling, on which the names of 54,392 of the missing are engraved, sang the Ypres hymn. “O valiant hearts who to your glory came,” they sang on Sunday. “Through dust of conflict and through battle flame; Tranquil you lie, your knightly virtue proved; Your memory hallowed in the land you loved.” A crowd numbering in the thousands, including the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge, Theresa May and the King and Queen of Belgium, Philippe and Matilde, watched on as the paper flowers drifted down in the still evening air. The young voices of the national youth choir of Scotland, standing below the gate’s 14-metre-high ceiling, on which the names of 54,392 of the missing are engraved, sang the Ypres hymn: “O valiant hearts who to your glory came, / Through dust of conflict and through battle flame; / Tranquil you lie, your knightly virtue proved; / Your memory hallowed in the land you loved.”
More than 800,000 soldiers on both sides of the war died in the blood and mud of the Ypres salient between 1914 and 1918. Many marched on the way to the front lines through where the gate built in 1927 now stands. Still today, the remains of tens of men are found every year in Flanders fields, identified initially by the colouring and markings of the boots in which they died. More than 800,000 soldiers on both sides of the war died in the blood and mud of the Ypres salient between 1914 and 1918. Many marched on the way to the front lines through which the gate built in 1927 now stands. Still today, the remains of dozens of men are found every year in Flanders fields, identified initially by the colouring and markings of the boots in which they died.
Of the three major battles in Ypres, however, it is the third and final, whose centenary will pass in the early hours of Monday, that bears the greatest infamy. “I died in hell – they called it Passchendaele,” the soldier and poet Siegfried Sassoon wrote of the carnage that raged from 31 July until 10 November 1917. Perhaps, the first world war battle that is today most sharp in the collective British consciousness is the Somme, but at the time it was this battle, and this place, that was synonymous with the hopelessness and horrors of what was playing out on foreign fields. Of the three major battles in Ypres, however, it is the third and final, whose centenary will pass in the early hours of Monday, that bears the greatest infamy. “I died in hell – they called it Passchendaele,” the soldier and poet Siegfried Sassoon wrote of the carnage that raged from 31 July until 10 November 1917. Perhaps the first world war battle that is today most sharp in the collective British consciousness is the Somme, but at the time it was this battle, and this place, that was synonymous with the hopelessness and horror of what was playing out on foreign fields.
So it is, in this centenary period, that among the many battles and places, Passchendaele, and Ypres, has followed Gallipoli and the Somme, in being conferred by the British government with what is likely to be a last great act of remembrance, certainly in the presence of the sons and daughters, nieces and nephews who fought. So it is, in this centenary period, that among the many battles and places, Passchendaele, and Ypres, have followed Gallipoli and the Somme, in being conferred by the British government with what is likely to be a last great act of remembrance, certainly in the presence of the sons and daughters, nieces and nephews who fought.
One of those direct descendants, Mike Copland, 70, whose father Bill, signed up when he was 15, fought, survived, and went on to be a commando at the age of 40 in the second world war, said he dearly hoped the names of Ypres and Passchendaele would continue mean something to the next generation. “It is not about glorifying it”, he said, standing next to his son Chris, 43, and grandson William, 7. “But there are too many people who look blank at you when you mention these names. It should trigger something. Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.” Copland added that he feared that those lessons were being lost. “We have had 70 years without major war”, he said. “I just hope we remember that we need to work together in Europe. My father never spoke about it. He died at the age of 80 in 1979. I don’t think he ever came here, not with us anyway. It’s important we are here.” In his speech Prince William quoted Winston Churchill who in 1919 said of Ypres: “A more sacred place for the British does not exist in the world.”
Sunday evening’s ceremony, attended by 19 representatives of nations that shed blood in the salient, including Australia, Canada, India and South Africa, had started with the traditional heralding of the Last Post. Performed every evening since 1928, bar a period of occupation during the second world war, the local buglers sounded their lament to those who were lost. Prince William followed by King Philippe, addressed the crowds to reflect on the sacrifices made and the significance of Ypres – Leper to the Belgians, and “Wipers” to the British and commonwealth soldiers – before a reading a reading from Benoit Mottrie, the chairman of the Last Post association, the group of volunteers keeping the ritual going. The Pipes and Drums of the Royal Irish Regiment played, led by Pipe Maj Nicholas Colwell. Every single pre-1922 Irish line infantry regiment had been involved in the Passchendaele offensive. Wreaths were laid side by side by Philippe and William, ahead of Theresa May and the Belgian defence minister, Steven Vandeput. One of those direct descendants, Mike Copland, 70 – whose father, Bill, signed up when he was 15, fought, survived, and went on to be a commando at the age of 40 in the second world war – said he dearly hoped the names of Ypres and Passchendaele would continue to mean something to the next generation. “It is not about glorifying it,” he said, standing next to his son Chris, 43, and grandson William, 7. “But there are too many people who look blank at you when you mention these names. It should trigger something. Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.”
Ypres’s notoriety was built not only on the ferocity of the fighting, and a victory won at such great loss, but by the conditions in which it was fought. Unprecedented rain, and the churning of the clay fields turned the mud to sludge so deep that men and horses drowned. There were more than 320,000 allied casualties. German losses are estimated to have been between 260,000 and 400,000. The final act on Ypres’s stage was the playing of the Pipers Lament. The piece of music goes under the name of the ‘Bloody Fields of Flanders’. Copland added that he feared that those lessons were being lost. “We have had 70 years without major war,” he said. “I just hope we remember that we need to work together in Europe. My father never spoke about it. He died at the age of 80 in 1979. I don’t think he ever came here, not with us, anyway. It’s important we are here.”
Sunday evening’s ceremony, attended by 19 representatives of nations that shed blood on the salient, including Australia, Canada, India and South Africa, had started with the traditional heralding of the Last Post. In a gesture repeated every evening since 1928, bar a period of occupation during the second world war, the local buglers sounded their lament to those who were lost.
Prince William, followed by King Philippe, addressed the crowds to reflect on the sacrifices made and the significance of Ypres – Leper to the Belgians, and “Wipers” to the British and commonwealth soldiers – before a reading a reading from Benoit Mottrie, the chairman of the Last Post association, the group of volunteers keeping the ritual going. The Pipes and Drums of the Royal Irish Regiment played, led by Pipe Maj Nicholas Colwell. Every single pre-1922 Irish line infantry regiment had been involved in the Passchendaele offensive. Wreaths were laid side by side by Philippe and William, ahead of Theresa May and the Belgian defence minister, Steven Vandeput.
Ypres’s notoriety was built not only on the ferocity of the fighting, and a victory won at such great cost, but by the conditions in which it was fought. Unprecedented rain and the churning of the clay fields turned the mud to sludge so deep that men and horses drowned. There were more than 320,000 allied casualties. German losses are estimated to have been between 260,000 and 400,000. The final act on Ypres’s stage was the playing of the Pipers Lament. The piece of music goes under the name of The Bloody Fields of Flanders.