We walk the Via Francigena as it follows the bloodied battlelines of the Western Front. For hundreds of kilometres, almost every village we pass through bears the scars of the death and destruction of WW1.
Out from Calais, we walk through a landscape still hollowed out by war. Shell holes, deep craters and bunkers collapsing onto the beach, the sand tilting them, the sea slowly subsuming them.
In Arras, we tour the kilometres of tunnels dug by New Zealand soldiers, enabling Commonwealth troops to move forward by stealth, edging as close to the enemy line as possible.
On 9 April 1917, 24,000 Commonwealth soldiers poured out of the tunnels, taking the Germans by surprise. From that day, 4,000 men died every day until the offensive was called off two months later. The Western Front didn’t move. So many young men killed for so little gain, so far from their heartland.
We pass many small cemeteries of Commonwealth war graves. Soldiers buried where they fell, sometimes all on the same fateful day. Some known and named, others ‘known only to God.’ In a gentle landscape of rolling green plains and wildflower meadows splashed red with poppies, the graves are poignant. The immensity of the tragedy hits us as we read of the 750,000 Commonwealth soldiers who died on the Western Front. The rush of a fast train in the distance, sucking the air in its path and scattering birds into the sky adds to the atmosphere of disquiet.
We take a day off the trail to visit Villers-Bretonneux, a key village on the Western Front. On 4 April 1918, the German Army captured the village, giving them an open path to Paris. Three weeks later, two Australian brigades recaptured the village. French and Australian flags were raised. They’re still flying today as we walk through the village.
Following the war, schoolchildren in Victoria raised funds to rebuild the village school. It’s now called the Victoria School. Emblazoned above the school playground are the words: ‘Do Not Forget Australia’.
The children haven’t forgotten. Almost 100 years later, when the 2009 Black Saturday bushfires devastated Victoria, they raised funds to rebuild the Strathewen School.
By the side of the trail we see a mortar shell left on a rock as a memorial. New monuments to old wars. Art Deco churches built to replace the places of worship that stood before WW1. Haunted landscapes, still etched deep with trench lines. Horror and bloodshed carved deep into the earth.
Lest we forget.
The next stage of our journey: Via Francigena: Celebrating in Champagne.
Go to the start of the journey: Via Francigena: the beginning
this made me cry xxx
If only we didn’t forget (all that heartbreaking history of the western front seemed particularly poignant in light of the Russian invasion of Ukraine). xx
Really enjoying following your walk in ‘real time,’ as it were. But the collective madness of western front gives you pause, doesn’t it? I look forward to future posts where perhaps you walk through regions with less grim reminders of the past.
Thanks Robert. And yes, let’s hope our next post is lighter and brighter.
Always good to be reminded of the horrors of WW1 so long ago now. And lovely schools’ story.
Thanks Nola. It’s incredible that 100 years after WW1, a village in France still has such affection for and solidarity with Australia. xx