​Stepping into the Hangard Wood Cemetery in Northern France, surrounded by golden fields of wheat, accessible only by dirt road, I felt more like I was home in Saskatchewan than in Europe. Indeed, aside from the small but conspicuous cemetery, placed right in the middle of a farmer's field, it all felt oddly familiar. Perhaps that's why the memorialization of the soldier presented this day hit so close to home. 

John Croak, born in Newfoundland but raised in Nova Scotia, felt particularly real to me. I don't know if it's because he was the same age as me when he died, or because the setting felt so oddly reminiscent, but private Croak's story really moved me (it is worth mentioning that the memorial was also tremendously well-crafted and presented by the researcher today). Every detail we learned about felt so human, so genuine. Every setback painful. Every success powerful. And when we learned of his death, my traditionally stalwart rational, detached reaction fell by the wayside. I felt like John Croak just as easily could have been me.

I immediately identified that as a guilty and obnoxiously self-indulgent feeling. I was not private Croak, nor have I ever experienced anything nearly as challenging as the trials and tribulations he faced from enlistment onwards. Yet my empathy for the man felt limitless. If I were born in a different time, that could be me. But it couldn't actually, could it? I could never live through that era, could I? Yet so many did. These questions rattled around my brain for quite some time, but I could never answer them. My true feelings always felt out of reach, like birds fluttering around in the distant corners of a room.

As I walked out of the small, Hangard Wood Cemetery, out-of-the-way and seeminlgy rarely visited, I was unsettled. How could one man among millions of war dead coax such questions out of me? Why must we, as humans, always return selfishly to ourselves in our speculations? Can anyone truly understand war without experiencing it? I attempted to shrug off these questions as we returned to our vehicles, ready to continue our day.

As we drove away, I gave one last look back towards the cemetery, knowing the likelihood of ever returning there in my lifetime was infinitesimal. If I squinted really hard, though, I still feel like I was home, back in the fields of Saskatchewan.

Today, the group visited Vimy Ridge, and Hill 70. I was immediately met with a wave of humility, emotion, and pride. Vimy Ridge may quite possibly be the most well known battle in 150 years of Canadian history - Hill 70 isn't, but I believe it was just important. Seeing the monument at Vimy, that honours 11,285 Canadian and Allied soldiers whose bodies were either never found, or were un-recognizable, I was humbled as I saw the names of many men not much older than I, whose lives were taken in a viscous assault to overtake possibly one of the most coveted areas in the First World War. Hill 70 is just as important; an unbelievable amount of casualties for the Canadians and Allied forces. I was completely humbled, teary, and couldn't help but feel a little proud of my country for erecting such a beautiful monument for our soldiers.  I felt humbled and hold the deepest respect for those who gave their lives for me, and my family, so that we might reap the benefits of their sacrifices. While at Vimy I was emotional, and speechless as I sat at the foot of the most well known monument to Canadian soldiers ever where the most well known Canadian battle of all time took place. I wrote a Soldier biography in the fall and winter on Private Albert Hunt of Ottawa.  He enlisted in the summer of 1916, and was struck on strength to the Battle of Vimy Ridge, which was his first taste of combat. He was killed at Vimy in the first half hour of the battle, leaving behind his two parents. Driving by Zivy Crater and getting to see where he spent his final hours before being called up to the sky to be with his creatorwas an incredible and surreal experience, and for that, I am forever grateful.

- Submitted by Marshall

I would like to share with you some information about the cemetery, before moving to a personal discussion:
 
Langemark cemetery is one of only four First World War German cemeteries in the Flanders region. The total figure of casualties in this cemetery is close to 44,300 war dead: 19,378 identified and almost 25,000 unidentified and interred in a mass grave (Kameraden Grab / ‘’Comrades Graves’’).
 
The name of "Studentenfriedhof" (Student Cemetery) was given to this cemetery because of the more than 3,000 student volunteers who were killed in battle in October and November 1914 during repeated attacks in the First Battle of Ypres. About 15% of Germany's volunteer soldiers were students and high school graduates. During the First Battle of Ypres, many of them would face a much more experienced British Army.
 
At the back of the mass grave there is a group of statues of four mourning soldiers created by Munich sculptor Professor Emil Krieger. Standing with their backs against the wall, the statues need to be regarded from a distance. The statues are very plain. The intention of the total image was to evoke reflection.
 
At the entrance of the cemetery, one finds a monumental gate made of pink Weserberg sandstone. Oak trees representing strength are planted within the cemetery, a constant in most German Military cemeteries. In 1917, the block houses (bunkers) were build. These came from the local area and were most likely moved to the cemetery after the war.
 
When I entered this cemetery, the general feeling was one of deep sadness. Everything is dark in colour: crosses, statues and tombstones. And because of the many oak trees, light has difficulty shining through, which increases the austere experience. To see eight names to every headstone (and to realize there are more than 44,000 dead German soldiers in just one cemetery) adds to the senselessness of wars. It is a very different experience to visiting a Commonwealth War Grave Commission Cemetery, with rows of white tombstones, flowers and manicured cut grass. Walking in a CWGC cemetery feels more like a walk in a garden: it gives a sense of peace and tranquility. Although both honor the sacrifice of their soldiers, the feeling on the visitors is very different.

- Submitted by Simon

Today we discussed the significance of Beaumont-Hamel and Courcelette. We also visited Notre-Dame-de-Lorette—France's monument to the fallen soldiers at La Somme. 

I was most touched by the visit to Notre-Dame-de-Lorette. I think perhaps it was the cross at the church which really resonated with me today. I felt peace, sadness, and hope. The crosses at the monuments were calming to me. 

Upon entering the chapel, I felt hope and security. I felt the love of a Higher Power and a strong urge to pray for all the fallen. I felt safe and loved and felt the same for the fallen.

I am struggling with the constant feeling of inadequacy. How do we learn, how do we come to know ourselves, how do we have landmarks in our minds, How as we "stand" on anything if, like the battlefield of La Somme, THERE IS NO SOLID GROUND?? Where is the solid ground??

Must we wallow in the mud? Can we not put our trust in anything?

​- Submitted by Lorelei

On Friday, July 7, 2017, the Gregg Centre Command Team and Advance Party landed at Charles De Gaulle Airport Paris in the morning after overnight flights from Fredricton, Toronto and Montreal.  It was clear who can and who cannot sleep on a plane. After securing the 4 Patrol Cars (aka negotiating the tricky business of the peculiar system of van rentals at Charles DeGaulle), the team climbed into the 9 Passenger and pushed north towards Calais.  Thus began 2 days of Bunker Bashing but no real spelunking as “privé” signs impeded the advance routes in some cases, where we wanted to penetrate hidden positions. Aggressive patrolling in true Canadian fashion prevailed however and several less well protected positions were seen.  

One of the primary general observations was that the Germans spared no amount of concrete in building the Atlantic wall.  Fortress positions, even years later, show solid all-round defensive positions with interlocking arcs of fire and heavy guns covering key ports and landing positions.  Concrete walls are 3 meters thick with steel reinforcing.  34 mm Machine Guns, a dreaded killing machine, covered approaches with 88s and 75s keenly located.  Both were placed deep in bunkers, high on hills, and cozy behind wire.  Clearly, the Germans had learned from the consequences of Dieppe, realizing that their coastal defences were too easily seen by aerial reconnassance and thus if they were going to have defences that could been seen, they had to be resistant to shelling and bombing.  Thicker, deeper and more interlocked by underground tunnels became the plan. In other locations, camouflage was the key.  To this they also added immense rail guns that were capable of shifting positions by rail.  It is clear that the Germans believed that if there was to be an invasion, it would come here, on the Pas-de-Calais coast, and that they would be ready for it.  The Germans were not with simple defensive action, so their huge guns blasted Dover 30 kilometres across the English Channel.  To those who would argue that the Canadians underperformed, come look at what they overcame and then decide.

At Mont Lambert, to the east or behind Boulogne-sur-Mer, all of this German preparation came to naught as the Canadian 3rd Division pulled off one of the most ingenious deception and flanking moves of the campaign.  There, Brigadier Rockingham pulled every cook, driver, and bottle washer together south of Boulogne, and well ahead of Monty Python dreaming it up in a skit, “Rocky" instructed them to make “battle noises” to deceive the German Defenders into believing the Canadians were coming straight at them up the coast.  Meanwhile, in the low ground to the east, the real attack was sneaking around to take the position from behind.   Even more cunningly, the assault went in first on to the Headquarters, which sat like a castle-keep in the midst of the defensive cordon on the heights overlooking the town.  The bastion was well defended with concrete, guns, machine guns in pill boxes and wire but it fell to a lighting strike.  In short, the Canadians snuck up behind and cut the head off the enemy throwing their gun positions into disarray.  Whilst the Germans floundered through lack of communication, the Canadians ignored the rest of the defences and raced through the town, down one road, flail tanks in the lead to seize the Port intact and to open a critical resupply route.

At the Castle-Keep, the Kangaroos and Crocodiles had rode up onto the objective crushing wire behind a bomber attack imitating a rolling barrage.   The infantry had scrambled out on top of the objective to stun the defenders while the flame from the Crocodiles chased the Germans from their concrete lairs.  Although, the German Commander had fled to the south, he only eluded capture for hours as the pursuit  soon found him.  While it is true that it took 4 days to finally clear the town, the critics overlook that the it was won in house to house fighting which takes place in advances of feet not miles.  More importantly, in the early going, the key strategic guns has been silenced and the strategic port seized in a coup de main.  Deception and dash had won the day and resulted in the Canadians receiving a special thanks from the Mayor of Dover, who had been long harassed by the guns.  This is a story that armed with an undergraduate degree and interest in history and a brief time as an army officer that I did not know.  This is a story that Canadians should rightly know.  It is a story that the Americans would have long ago made a movie about, with the cooks taking a comic turn and a Hollywood Icon playing Rocky.   

For follow on forces, the Musee Du Mir de L’Atlantique is a must, with its Batterie Todt that once housed a 380mm coastal gun and the K5 Railway gun with a just slightly less impressive 280mm gun.  See www.batterietodt.com

Not all the first day and a half were spent in Bunkers.  Saturday morning, after having been awakened by the Roosters in the farm we were staying it, and feasted on the eggs from the hens that roamed beneath our windows, we started the day with a sombre moment at the Canadian Cemetery at Calais.  We were struck, as always, by the sadness of the sacrifice made for our freedoms.  A sacrifice made more painful by the discovery of brothers laid side by side, having died within days of each other.  (JOEL – DO WE REMEMBER THEIR NAMES?) We imagined their poor parents as they were visited either once or in short succession to hear of their sons deaths.  There would be no Saving Private Ryan for the Kennedy brothers from Galt, Ontario.   In addition, there are numerous Polish and Czech graves, identifying the sacrifice that these homeless people made in the attempt to liberate their homelands far behind the Iron Curtain. Unfortunately, for them and their fellows, their homelands would be liberated from the Germans only to fall under the sway of the Soviet Union.  Fortunately for Canada, many of their countryman chose to make Canada their home after the war and continue to contribute to the rich fabric of our nation.

Later, after we had explored bunkers and the Museum, and as we broiled under the Calais sun, we came to the Commonwealth Cemetery at ___________.  This cemetery is most famous for the grave of Doctor, soldier, and poet, John McCrae, who gave us In Flanders Fields.  There he lay amongst some of the patients he had struggled to save in the hospital set up nearby.  As was the practice then, the dead were buried in a extension to an already existing civilian cemetery, which presents a interesting contrast between family tombs and the sombre soldiers headstones, which here unusually, lay flat.  McCrae is but one of the many commonwealth  and German Graves, because the hospitals treated prisoners as well, and it struck us how these hospital cemeteries reveal a wide reflection of the units engaged in a particular area.

Night came as it always does, but fortified by the find of a brewery making fine local ales in honour of D-Day, we counted our blessings and thought of those who sacrificed without such a pleasant end to the day.  The recognition of Canada’s contribution in the Museum and on the labels of the Ale, made it all the sweeter.