One day in the Somme...

Today we woke in our attic alongside Notre Dame even before her bells began to ring out across the city.

We walked in the morning cold to our Metro station; and the streets were quiet, no masses of tourists, we were almost alone.  Cafés were beginning to set up; the overwhelming smell in the air - fresh pastries!

We boarded our TGV at the gare du Nord, settled into our seats - Paris to Arras, 50 minutes at speeds that topped 305kph...  I wanted to visit the memorial in the cemetery at Noreuil for my great-uncle who had died in battle in WWI in 1917. 

Now, when planning this day I was thinking in Australian terms... Arras - Noreuil - Villers-Bretonneux (perhaps) - Arras, well that will take a full day...

So, we arrived in Arras at 0842 and were booked on the 2017 return to Paris.  That would give us almost 12 hours in northern France.  What I totally overestimated were the distances involved... We could have driven from Arras to Noreuil, Villers-Bretonneux, stopped for a bite to eat, back to Arras and still been on the 1200 TGV back to Paris!

I almost didn't want to go to Villers-Bretonneux; I have become extraordinarily conscious over the last decade of the militarisation and "celebration" of the events of last century ("thank you" Mr Howard).  I worry about the new generations that wrap themselves in, or paint their faces with, images of the Australian flag while sitting on the beach at Gallipoli, or attending a local Anzac Day service.  This should not be about "celebration", it should be a quiet, very sober commemoration (for a slightly controversial article, see http://www.theage.com.au/opinion/society-and-culture/letting-go-of-anzac-20100402-rif5.html).

So, with many "spare" hours - what to do? Well, we have a car, we're Australian - let's drive...

So... Arras - Noreuil - Villers-Bretonneux - Amiens - Saint Denys - Arras; every kilometre or two, another village, almost every village (without exaggeration) a war cemetery... 270 km, god knows how many cemeteries.

What I totally underestimated was the scale of the devastation... the front must have rolled backwards and forwards across an unfathomable expanse of land; the oldest dated town building we saw was from 1921...

Now I can begin, just begin, to understand the legacy of this conflict... these young men were the victims of a system, a machine, that we must never let loose again.  By comparison, WWII was a "just" war.  WWI was a waste; not only a waste, but almost a certain precursor to the misery of WWII. These wounds and divisions are still so much alive in this part of the world - more than we can imagine... have a look at http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2012/sep/16/bernhard-schlink-germany-burden-euro-crisis - this is such a sad article, the events of this enormous battlefield and those Edwardian imperialist bastards that sent us to war are even today affecting the lives of young children in Europe and beyond...

Somehow, the huge, beautiful, 21st century (and still controversial - a least in Australia) wind turbines that dot the landscape, almost as frequently as the graveyards, deliver a grace and poignancy to the landscape that it seems, very much, to deserve.
What a day, not what I expected.

(...thank you M for your wonderful driving! xxx)