Part 16: Never Forget.

Over the past few days, I have said goodbye to Paris and been re-united with English-speaking civilization, which has included hours upon hours of fantastic, intellectual and extremely enjoyable conversation. Also, for one final treat that Europe has had to offer me over this amazing near two and a half months that I have spent here, it gave me a reason to be more proud of my country than I would have ever known had I not visited the places I have in the last few days.  Over the schooling years I have learned an abundance of things about WW1 – ‘The Great War’, but I suppose as most things in life, you need to see it to believe it. Visiting the Western Front between 1914 and 1918 had an edge to it that you can never experience through a textbook. In this area, there were many of the most arduous and truly horrible battles and scenes that could ever be experienced not just in a war, but in anyone’s life. In the soil, the blood of millions shed over this beautiful land that is France, with over 1.3 million dying in the Western Front alone in WW1 – some of the words and statistics you might find when learning about this “great war”. But it’s the effect of visiting the area where it happened, seeing the monuments, reading the names of those who were never found, and trying to envisage what really happened here 95 years ago is what makes you learn the most about this tragedy. The British memorial that was put in place to commemorate the names of those people whose bodies were never found consists of 72,000 names. They are honourably noted on the monument for remembrance, but it’s when you take a step away and look at the view in front of you where you realise that is what 72,000 people looks like. It is there where the numbers and statistics make more of an image in your head. The day was glum, the fog was imposing and the breeze was freezing. There was an eerie silence, a real nothingness that existed. 72,000 people looked like nothing. It was a nothingness that made us think why there was this war. Why did these people die for nothing? The view of this nothingness gave me an image of war that I have never had before. On the one hand, you have this sense of disbelief that so many people could kill and be killed for what most of the time were kilometers and sometimes even meters of land, but on the other hand, there is an overwhelming appreciation of the courage, loyalty, honour, and bravery that these men died with. These men were too good to die like that.

WW1 Battlefields. As read on the New Zealand War Monument - "The Uttermost Ends Of The Earth."

 

In the afternoon we visited the Australian monument which just meant so much more. This, again, had the same appreciation of the bravery of war and the same view of the rolling hills were blood was spilled and lives were lost, now occupied by bland, lifeless farming land in the midst of an overwhelmingly brutal cold and fog.  Here, we had a minute silence to honour and remember those Australians who fought for our fathers and our freedom. And in this minute, on the 26^th January, I realised that if I was going to be anywhere else than Australia for Australia Day; it would be here. The people who have collected memories of war, the people here who are forever grateful for Australia and the people who share their homes, their memories and their lives with us from the goodness of their heart in honour of their passion for Australia was the perfect way for Europe, and especially France, to say goodbye. From their love of Australia, I too appreciated my love for France and will always remember the memories this astonishing country gave to me. For that, I will be forever grateful. As my final 12 hours in this beautiful country on this astonishing continent begin to wind down, I prepare to sit back, relax, and think over everything that made this one of the best journeys I have ever been on, and with one final blog to be done after this, I will have spent the first hours with my friends under the Melbourne sun in the beginning of another new amazing adventure. For now though, the thoughts and the signs scattered around these areas that read “N’oublions jamais l’Australie”, “Never Forget Australia”, I think back to this amazing time I have had, and will “Never Forget France”.

Australian WW1 Memorial - Le Hamel, France.

Australia And France - Brothers In Arms.