It is interesting to note that Belgium is the only country whose national flower is the poppy. France abandoned the idea of a national flower a long time ago and we are familiar with the UK choices as they figure on the respective rugby shirts of England, Wales, Scotland and also the Republic of Ireland.
It is indeed very fitting that the Belgians have taken possession of the poppy, however this may well have been a recent acquisition (- if anybody knows the exact date of the adoption of the poppy as their national symbol I would be interested to know). After all, John McCrae made the poppy synonymous with the western front in Belgium when he wrote the poem In Flanders' Fields in 1915 (which has in fact been very incorrectly translated into French and printed on postcards that you can buy in The Flanders' Fields Museum in Ypres).
The poppy became the remembrance flower as a result of the Canadian doctor's poem; the wearing of the symbol being proposed by Moina Micheal, an American citizen. Her poem We shall keep the faith was her touching answer to McCrae's words and it is worth reading the two poems together to understand the emotional response given by Ms Michael.
The western front winds its way down from Belgium through northern France to the Somme battlefields, as you undoubtedly know. Here in Picardy a local borough of different communes (towns and villages) gave itself the name: Le Pays du Coquelicot in 2004. This was roughly translated by myself as The Poppy Country for the Somme Marathon website and the name has stuck. At the time I found this a fitting tribute to the men who fought and fell in the Somme in and around Albert (the main town in The Poppy Country). Now, six years on, I find myself cringeing with distaste at the commercial activity that has grown up around this name. The local inhabitants of The Poppy Country suddenly woke up to the fact that tourism was a possible money-spinner they could exploit (a mere ninety years after The Battle of the Somme). We saw more and more gites and B&Bs spring up in people's back gardens or in the second house they inherited from grandma. These were inevitably named after poppies or coquelicots to the point where it became repetitive and embarrassing. Then the local businesses jumped on the bandwagon; this trend in Albert has given us such delights as : poppy windows, a poppy launderette, a poppy flag team, a poppy driving school and a youth hostel named.......... yes you guessed: Les Poppies. No doubt, as one British tourist recently observed: we will soon be invited to gaze upon "The Poppy Basilica" in Albert. To add insult to injury, these names are accompanied by possessive apostrophes showering them like confetti, and as a result I have to control my desire to take out my jumbo red indelible marker and correct their sloppy grammar.
I finally felt the urge to write this article when I came across a selection of poppy products in one of the local DIY stores in Albert, popular with people building gites and B & Bs for battlefield tourists. The products that caught my eye were for the bathroom: a poppy toilet seat, a poppy toilet roll holder and a poppy loo brush. Now, if you are sensitive to the significance of the poppy, and I suspect you are if you are visiting the Somme, you may share my distaste for these items. I can well imagine that some poor British or Australian tourist will find him- or herself having to sit on a plastic wreath of poppies in order to perform daily ablutions. (I am fearfully waiting for them to start selling poppy toilet paper). Our tourist will then tiptoe down to a dining table covered with a poppy tablecloth, after having drawn back poppy curtains. Breakfast will be served on poppy plates and tea will be drunk out of poppy mugs.
Having said that, there are some very worthy gite and B&B owners, many of them British, who are wholly deserving of trade. They devote a lot of time and energy to Remembrance and go about it earnestly. Some of these are links on this blog.
A new pipe band was recently set up in Albert. The local French political figures urged the Pipe Major to call it........... go on, have another guess........... yep............. "The Poppy Pipe Band". Clearly big fans of alliteration! Luckily, concerns were listened to and it became The Gleannancre Pipe Band, remembering the toll of the Battle of the Ancre, as well as the Battle of the Somme.
The local political figures and business people see the anglophone tourist as a cash cow who will solve the financial worries of local companies and inject wealth into the area. They want to control this and reap the benefits on their terms.
If this flies in the face of respect and solemnity - so what.
I have always said that living in the Somme region comes with a heavy moral price. One must strive to be worthy of the blood sacrifice made on this soil. Many people are worthy, but many are not; and their behaviour can be quite selfish and shocking. I often wonder how the soldiers would feel if they could rise up and look around them at the greed and back-stabbing that is sadly so rife here. They would say their efforts were all in vain, and they would have a point.
I therefore wish to inform the discerning battlefield tourist of this reality. Beware of the crocodile tears that betray an empty consideration for the Fallen, and mask a greedy eye fixed on your wallet.
By Boadicea
