Walking in Werwyck Sud (F) and Plugstreet (B)

On Sunday August 22nd I joined my friends: a group of battlefeld enthusiasts accustomed to organising walking tours together, and we went up to the Franco-Belgian border where the French Werwyck meets the Flemish Werwik. Here we were met by our guide and friend on his territory : Michel Decru, a Flemish Belgian who speaks French and who is also proficient in English. Michel is a WFA member and has written two books on the history of Avelgem in the Great War.
The walk around the French Werwyck brought us into contact with a number of German bunkers and Hitler's place of convalescence after being gassed in 1918. The building is today occupied by the Education authorities.
A visit to the German cemetery led us to some interesting graves: Musician, Pilot etc... and one in French read chevaux légers.... most unusual for a German soldier.
We then drove to Ploegsteert and began a long walk that took in an incredible amount of history. We saw , to name but a few sites, the Ultimo crater, the location of the Birdcage and the site of the Christmas Truce football match, which was particularly poignant for me. Visits to numerous cemeteries revealed a host of different moving stories. I was taken aback to see a fresh grave dug for an Australian soldier, something I had never seen.
I was also especially thrilled to see the graves of the two Lancastrians buried in the last decade after being discovered in the Flanders mud with their ID disks on.

What was pleasant about walking in Belgium was the presence of cafés where we could sit down and obtain refreshments after tiring ourselves out.
A big thank you to Michel for all his research and hard work. I know what it involves and I really appreciate the time he spent on the project.
By Paula Flanagan

Fancy rowing your way down the Somme?

During the summer I like to make the most of the good weather and entertain my children with new adventures. For two years I have talked about canoeing down the Somme but my husband had always pooh poohed it- claiming that as we have lived in the Ardèche, canoeing here would be boring on a flat, spiritless river.
I finally got my way in August 2010 and booked a session via the Canoe Cappy website. I sent my request by email and was told to ring a mobile number to finalise arrangements. I chose to set off from the jetty near the public campsite in Bray sur Somme at 11 am to be able to stop and picnic by the river and row to Méricourt sur Somme where we would be picked up at 3pm.

There were four adults in our group, two teenagers and three children. Rowing was tougher for those who had children in their canoes - as they tended to enjoy the view rather than get stuck into the physical task required of moving the canoe forward. I enjoyed the experience immensely, getting a superb view of the river's course from my craft. The rowing was physical and tiring but it felt good. The Canoe Cappy Company owner, a man from the Dordogne, told me that he preferred having his business here because the river is gentle and presents very few risks. (Dordogne is of course the most British part of France where canoeing is a popular activity with tourists).

Having said that, I must point out the dangers that DO exist. If you try to stop en route to picnic, as we did, it is difficult to find an ideal spot to moor, and we had to be somewhat acrobatic in tieing our canoes up and getting ourselves out onto terra firma.

There are also two dangers en route: one is the fishermen whose lines reach right across the river. Some fishermen consider that the river is theirs alone and can be quite rude and unfriendly as you splash along. The other danger is the whirlpool zone where there is a possibility of being sucked in. Keep well away from it.
The final danger occurs not en route but at the very end of your journey - at the lock at Méricourt sur Somme. Here we were astounded to see a lethargic lock-keeper (working for the French DDE - who are fonctionnaires) open the lock while we were close by. One of our canoes nearly got sucked into the lock. The aforementioned lock-keeper then stood by mutely and apathetically while we struggled to moor our canoes, keep ourselves tied together and climb a one and a half metre high wall, before scrambling down the bank to drag our canoes out of the water. During this tricky operation one of our group, an eight year old boy, fell in the river. The lock-keeper did absolutely nothing (helping people isn't in his contract of course).

So, what I would say to tourists visiting the area is this: I can recommend this activity but I would warn you to keep an equal ratio of adults to children and you should only arrive at the lock at your pick-up time. We were early (such talented rowers are we) that the Canoe Cappy people were not there to help us. I would also advise you to encourage the authorities to arrange for a safe arrival zone with a jetty in Méricourt sur Somme.
By Paula Flanagan

Striking - a popular pastime and national sport

By Ava Donovan
The French word for strike is GREVE. I have lived in France for many years and have always challenged the French with my opinion that if striking became an Olympic Sport they would win gold hands down every time. They can't resist the temptation to down tools and pens the minute anyone mentions that word they dread and revolt against. That word is CHANGE.
It doesn't matter what is being changed: the school syllabus, the school timetable, doctors' fees, the colour of the curtains in the town hall etc.. any change is bad news per se and the knee jerk reaction is always to get everybody out on the streets (but only on a Thursday, so their salary isn't affected) and shout and demonstrate (but not between 12 noon and 2pm when they go home for lunch).

Today we are examining the punishments meted out to France's footballers who dared to go on strike at Knysna in South Africa at the world cup. The captain Evra is banned for 5 games and is considered to be the ringleader. Anelka is the real naughty boy who didn't even turn up to face the disciplinary hearing. He is banned for 18 matches - but doesn't give a hoot as he clearly has no intention of playing for France again.

I recall how the striking mentality was prevalent in the UK in the 70s and I do recall the winter of discontent that set me against strikes forever. A lot of British ex-pats settle in France because the lifestyle in France reminds them of bygone years in many ways. To be sure, the attitude to striking is definitely typical of yesteryear in the UK. So why don't the French move on? Striking is so infra-dig, don't you think? It's so banal because it's so run of the mill. There are other ways to protest and originality is needed in thinking of ways you can get people to sit up and listen. Nobody takes strikes in France seriously anymore and some French people are wholly ashamed of this old-fashioned reputation that they have in the eyes of the rest of Europe. The behaviour of the national football team was an embarrassing reflection of French society as a whole.

What has always stunned me is the way schoolchildren go on strike in France. I recall having to drive 30 kms to a doctor's appointment when I was pregnant some years ago. I got stuck behind a striking crowd of ....... schoolchildren, out on strike because the Minister had suggested that the education system needed reform (heavens, how dare he be so revolutionary!!!) I told the policeman who stopped me that in order to strike one needs to be earning a salary. This comment fell on deaf ears.

Hurrumph!!! French protocol my foot!

By Morag Smith-Jones
Summer 2010 is nearly over. Autumn begins mid- August despite what you might think. (June 21st is midsummer, so do the maths). I am left to reflect on the multitude of ceremonies I have attended (and those I decided not to attend) in the Somme.
I felt very disheartened this year and extremely let down.
I watched lines of British, Australian, American etc.... tourists carrying their poppy wreaths to different ceremonies, so clearly moved by what they were doing and by whom they were remembering. They lined up and waited their turn to pay their respects to a lost relative, a local regiment or a friend's friend.
Yes, they waited their turn, having travelled long distances to get here, they waited oh so patiently.
They had to wait because they are not important in the eyes of the French authorities. They are not as important as the French officials who don their number one suit for the occasion (they might be photographed by the local paper after all). They had to wait because the local dignitaries had made it clear at meetings and in emails that French protocol MUST prevail on French soil.
Ah, but hang on a minute. Most of the ceremonies are not on French soil. They are on memorial land donated to the allied powers who helped French soil to remain French soil. If you take the example of the Lochnagar Crater in La Boisselle; this is private land owned by Richard Dunning. By rights, he can do exactly what he wants - bar break the law of course.
I am weary of learning that the organisers of ceremonies are being made to ensure that Monsieur X and Madame Y be the first to lay their wreaths, when in fact Monsieur X and Madame Y have only a fleeting knowledge of why the ceremony is taking place and don't even understand what the battle was all about and which regiments were involved. This lack of understanding and input contrasts greatly with the attitude of the patient tourists, holding their poppy wreaths, waiting to be allowed to go forward and pay their respects.
I am also weary of seeing these often elderly poppy wreath-holders struggling to walk from their designated parking plot (miles from the monument) whereas Monsieur X, a very trim and sporty mayor of Gobbledygook-sur-Somme, has the right to whizz through the crowds and park right next to the monument.
Until a more reasoned, dignified and egalitarian approach is insisted upon by the ceremony organisers... I will be doing it my way, very quietly away from the crowds, in a place filled with a sense of history I can savour ALONE.

Banning the burka in France

By Boadicea
Only one MP in the French lower house voted against the new proposition to ban the face-covering garment worn by Muslim women. The law will not be adopted until the upper house has voted but it looks like the ban will come into effect without any real opposition. It should be added that the law will also apply to certain hoods and balaclavas used by bankrobbers and other lawbreakers.
I am frequently told by British visitors to the Somme that they applaud the French government's courage in pushing this law through the assemblée générale. They bemoan Britain's overly multicultural acceptance of all cultural differences; most notably those that betray a lack of respect and freedom for women.
On the other hand, a female friend of mine who is a South African working in Saudi Arabia, told me that she thought the French move "dangerous and provocative". It is understandable that westerners living in Islamic countries do not want to see friction and intolerance being used as weapons in more terrorist campaigns.

I personally do have strong opinions about this subject, as I am sure you do. I am British but I have lived in the Middle East, and I will soon be returning to live there once more. When I was living in Cairo I had no issue with the Egyptian custom of wearing a full length robe that left the face (but not the hair) free. I understood the prudish desire to keep things covered. I did however appreciate being able to look women in the eyes.
What used to disturb me greatly was when the plane came in from Saudi Arabia and women would walk into the arrival lounge covered in a black sheet, wearing gloves, socks and shoes so that no flesh was visible at all.

Roughly ten years later when I went back to Greater Manchester to work you can imagine my profound shock at standing in Bolton town square one day and counting about 15 women thus attired - in the space of about 20 minutes. They were not all together. Some were in pairs, some were with their children or husbands. While I fully understand their wish to cover up and not expose vast amounts of flesh (like some of the girls who were sharing the same pavement) I could not accept this vision in my home country.

I came to the conclusion that I didn't like looking at acres of fat belly flesh with piercings just as much as I didn't like not being able to see a woman's face as she walked by me on the pavement. There are two extremes: one is gratuitous nudity that is exploited by pornography that harms all women; the other is a sinister blacking out of a person's facial features. I opppose both and say one is as dangerous as the other.

For information you may be interested to know that the chador is Persian (Iranian) and leaves the face free (rather like Nora Batty's headscarf); the niqab covers everything but leaves the eyes free (rather like a royal mail post box) and the burqa is the Afghan covering with a mesh design in front of the eyes to stop poor women from walking into things.