Up pretty early in the Ibis hotel in Dunkirk, and went down for the breakfast buffet. Of course, Q, being the wild man that he is had already gone for a run. Our attempt was to go to the Dunkirk beach at low tide, but that was about 1 hour before sunrise, so we got down there just after sunrise. The low tide attempt was since there was purportedly some ship remains from the Operation Dynamo that were visible, and sure enough, we observe them as the tide was pretty low, and they were marked by yellow buoys. Apparently it was the wrecked Crested Eagle, an old English paddle wheeler sunk on 29 May 1940. There were also gun turrets in the sand dunes on the beach town of Dunkirk.
In search of a public lavatory, we went to a coffee shop instead and had espressos before heading to Essex Farm, the location where John McRae wrote the poem In Flanders Fields. He was a Canadian army doctor in WWI who wrote the poem which starts with “In Flanders Fields where the poppies blow” and launched the poppy as the symbol for veterans. I.e. VFW.
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie,
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
Next we went to the second stop in Belgium, which was Sanctuary Woods and Hill 62. Apparently the farmer who owned this land kept it intact with tunnels and trenches just like WWI, and there was even a propped up tree which was there 100 years ago, as well as a great museum. Selling none other than Belgian Waffles. One of many group photos taken of our group by Dan Smith, who has a full tripod set up, and with his many corrections, etc. it gets a little tedious. The artifacts in the museum were very cool, uniforms, weapons, helmets, etc.
Just up the road was another Canadian sponsored monument, at Hill 62 with a great view of Ypres.
We hit Ypres for a little touring, and had lunch at an open air cafe, very relaxing in the cobbled old village.
After lunch, we headed to Flanders Field American Cemetery, which is the largest cemetery for WWI casualties. The striking thought that I had was how much sacrifice the U.S. gave to Europe in the first and second WWs. The First War being called the “Great War” because there was never a break in the fighting, and it was the first time that battles of a war were not basically scheduled, and therefore it was fought continuously.
After this cemetery, we got on the road for the 2 1/2 hour drive to Bastogne, which I had not anticipated. Our car, which we have deemed the “cool car” is driver: Q, navigator, Marcus, passengers, me and Dutch Peale. Lots of laughs and jokes and hero stories from back in the day.
Our hotel for this evening is the Leo Wagon which at first was hard for us to find. A little larger room than last nights with a rain shower that is “to die for”
Ate and drank at the bar “Le Nuts” across the street which is named after the response to the German General from the American commander in WWII when the German asked for surrender. Nuts was the message given.
Also in the bar they served Airborne beer. Named after the Airborne unit of the Army since while stationed there a story arose from a WWII event. In this event, a GI from the Airborne Division had a moment where there was a break in the action, and filled his helmet with ice and beer and brought this up to his comrades in the foxholes. This story went viral and now the beer is locally famous, and served in cups shaped like Army helmets.
Marcus is my roommate, and so thoughtful and cat like that I barely heard him get ready this morning and sneak out to breakfast.
Full days, lots of touring, knowledge gained, and laughs laughed.
The Airborne story:
A young paratrooper named Vincent Speranza was assigned to the 101st during those fateful days in Bastogne. His good friend Joe Willis had been wounded and was lying in a makeshift casualty collection point in the ruins of a church. Willis asked Speranza for a drink, to which Speranza politely responded by reminding him that their unit was surrounded. There were no supplies coming in. Luckily, the makeshift medical facility was not too far from the ruins of a pub. Speranza rooted through the tavern and at last came to an untouched, tapped barrel. He looked around for glasses, but all had been destroyed in the bombing. Speranza turned then to his trusty M1 helmet. He filled his helmet with beer and rushed back to the hospital. Needless to say, every wounded GI was enthralled at the prospect of a swig of Belgian beer, even if it was out of a helmet. Private Speranza would make two more trips bringing beer to his comrades before an officer caught wind of what he was doing and stopped him, since the beer could prove fatal to those with intestinal wounds. Nonetheless, the actions of Private Speranza proved to be a morale booster for the wounded troops of the besieged 101st. The story would continue to circulate, not just among troops, but also among local Belgians. Decades later, the story would spawn the “Airborne Beer.” Brewed in Bastogne by a local brewer, the beer’s label depicts a smiling American GI marching gleefully with a helmet full of beer. It’s served in a ceramic miniature American helmet. You can still order an “Airborne” in many taverns across Belgium.
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