Year 10/11 History Trip to the 1st World War Battlefields September 2003

Most of the photos by Martin Hugall - click on each one to enlarge.
Account by John Searle-Barnes.

On the ferry	Our bus			Our hotel

Hotel lobby	Our restaurant		Locknagar crater - the first mine to be	exploded from the tunnels

One of many group photos	Thiepval Memorial to those allied soldiers	who were never found in the Somme

Museum at Beaumont Hemel	A disastrous battle in which many	Canadians soldiers from Newfoundland	and Essex lost their lives	The guides are Canadian

The trenches	All at Vimy Ridge	Down into the tunnels	Artefacts left behind		Unexploded shell

	Reconstructed Allied and German trenches		Trenches at Vimy Ridge		At Vimy Ridge

Canadian Memorial at Vimy Ridge			Coal mine slag heaps in the distance

Notre Dame de Lorette the ...	French National Cemetery	German cemetery at Neuville-St-Vaast

The Square at Arras			Poperinge cemetery - a grave of someone from Zhen Bo's hometown in China	The museum at Ypres in Belgium

Homemade lunch from the supermarket		Museum at Sanctuary Wood at Hill 62

Trenches at Hill 62			Tunnels at Hill 62

Hill 60 where many lay burried where they fell	Hill 60		Crater at Hill 62	Tyne Cot - main British cemetery in Belgium - at Passchendaele

		Youngest soldier to die? - age 14		Chinese grave stone	Islamic grave stone

A rarity for 1st WW - a female grave	German cemetery at Langemark	Langemark	'In Flanders Fields' - poem by John McCRae	at the British cemetery at Essex Farm

Jewish and Christian graves	'served as' - many underage took on false names to fight		Memorial to the missing at Thiepval Memorial in France	Last Post at the Menin Gate in Ypres in Belgium

The Belgium chocoalte shop in..	Ypres	Ypres at night		Ypres

Meal in Ypres			Breakfast at our hotel	in Arras

'They're back!' is not what the various guides and keepers of the faith around the battlefields and cemeteries of Flanders said to each other as and when Friends' School arrived in their midst. However, after a break of several years - three to be precise - a group of 24 students from Years 10 and 11 in equal numbers arrived once more at the door of the Continent. There had, it's true, been a small missionary group sent the previous year but more like a dove than a landing force.

And so it was that at noon on September 24th, with a fair wind and a blue sky, the coach left its dock on Mount Pleasant Road and sallied forth south, passing the M25 whirlpool on a momentarily calm moment before passing through Dover and out to sea. The light was so bright, the colours so gay, the mood so excited and the atmosphere so electric that P&O Ferries requested the group leader to take total responsibility for the group's behaviour, emphasising the need for the group to stay together at all times. Trusting in good intentions and fearing the literal consequences of a group of 24 going anywhere all together, the leader established a base where all bags could be left safely and where a teacher would stay at all times. As 24 pairs of shoes took their owners away, escorted by the other two teachers only in the most tenuous sense of the term, the leader felt that the sudden solitude could be a mixed blessing. Still, the sun shone; England and France could both be seen sharply and distinctly, like two neighbouring islands in an archipelago of cultural vitality and eventually 26 pairs of shoes reappeared. Now to Arras!

Rhymes with harrass'ed, at least if you say it as if it was an English town. It wasn't 'Ot, but the Hotel was, at least in its corridors. Fourteen swipe cards later, the girls at the desk were left wondering why there was one left over. The rooms were clean and bright and light and there were no mini bars, thanks to the various gods which control the destinies of teachers with school groups abroad. There were instead showers and towels and curtains. And Other Guests all around. Stressing the fact that this was not a boarding school and was not a holiday but a Serious Voyage, the teachers got ready to apologise in several different languages for any disturbances which those Other Guests might complain about every hour on the hour for the next three nights. Supplies of Prozac were sought out - not available it transpired in the little package of toiletries available if a guest had forgotten anything - and laudanum was suggested should matters become desperate.

Oh ye of little faith! Looking upon the stressful teachers, the students took pity and behaved. No whistles were used, but watches and clocks ticked with precision. Be here and they were here. Be there and they were. The teachers felt good and were pleased. The three days could have passed happily doing nothing very much but this was a Serious Voyage of Discovery.

History renders it unclear at what hour Vasco Da Gama took the wheel on his voyage to India, but judging by the silent and frozen faces of the group, it is unlikely to have been at 6am. True the clocks said 7am, but that was French time. Bodies and minds were still on the British body ST clock. Before eight, we were gone, to see the giant Lochnagar crater down on the Somme. It was bright, it was crisp, but we were bleary and vinegar flavoured. The cold air helped? Hmm. Still, the spirits were positive and the spectacle was impressive. On to Thiepval, that monument to the missing of the Somme. Crisp, bright and silent, captured forever in a group photo. Then to Newfoundland Park and a young, energetic, motivated Canadian guide who was determined that we should realise the significance of what happened at that place in the time of the students' great, great grandparents. He succeeded. He enjoyed it. No-one complained of being tired. Into Albert for lunch, practising French in the supermarket. Heading north to get to Vimy Ridge on time. Just. Another articulate and enthusiastic Canadian guide by the name of Fiona gave our "wonderful" group an extended tour and explanation of the tunnels. Suppose we had the same practice here of giving the pupils an extra 15 minutes lesson if they've been especially good. Would it work? It seemed to there. To the huge French cemetery at Notre Dame de Lorette. Would they tire of cemeteries? Well, one or two, but not most. Then to the massive 44,000 dead German cemetery at Neuville Ste Vaast. The sun shone, we walked, thought and talked and then went back to the hotel.

The food was better than usual for a school trip. While there were those who tended to practise hyperbolic criticism of anything other than oven fries and pizza, we were able to eat real French food not in a pre-packed format heated up for two minutes and left to stand for one before eating in three and digesting in thirty. The downside of a French meal is the need a) for a large comfortable bottom to sit on for the two hours that it takes and b) for practice at conversation so that each can talk to their neighbours away from TVs and computers. The challenge was real, but the atmosphere was surprisingly positive and hopefully remembered as a better way to eat meals.

One slightly later breakfast and we were off in the sun to Belgium, which was not so sunny, but dry. Amazingly at Poperinge one of our Chinese students found the grave of a Chinese worker from his own home town. That is one mother of a coincidence and worthy of a press splash, yet the meaningfulness is really for the student. Into Ypres and the impressive Cloth Hall Museum. To Hill 60 and Hill 62 in the wrong order but the trenches of the Sanctuary Museum of Hill 62 were almost dry! This was unheard of and all the stories of sitting in bin bags to take the place of muddy trousers seemed just that: stories. One enterprising student used the light from his mobile phone to see in the underground tunnels. That is a sign of the times. As all the other school parties left, we were briefly left alone to enjoy the museum in peace and thought. Then we were on the traditional circuit of Tyne Cot, Langemark and Essex Farm. We added a visit to the huge cemetery at Poelkapelle so that Private J. Condon, dead at 14, could be properly remembered. Three times past the interesting but unremarkable statue of a stork commemorating the French flying ace, Georges Guynemer and we were back in Ypres for the meal and the Last Post at 8pm sharp. It was surprisingly crowded but the bugles played stirring stuff and we left duly affected. The chocolate shop took our Last Orders and we were gone.

The next day we packed our bags and our memories onto the coach, looked around and wondered each when if ever we would return. Is a visit to the Menin Gate or Thiepval a once in a lifetime experience? The 90th anniversary of the start of the First World War will be next year. Lest we forget, November 11th 2018 has got to be another date to mark on the calendar.

Thanks to Marianne Rochford and Martin Hugall for their help on the trip.

John Searle-Barnes

'We will remember them'

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