Today, Monday April 9th 2012 marks the anniversary of the battle on Vimy Ridge in France during the First World War. The battle of Vimy is what a lot of historians say marked Canada as it's own country and not just as a growing nation that belonged to England. It was 95 years ago to the day that the Canadian troops began advancing on Vimy Ridge (Monday April 9th 1917). The attempt to capture the Ridge from the Allied Forces had already failed twice and it was up to the Canadians to prove that we could do what the British and French troops could not. Sir Arthur Currie (our first Canadian commander) as well as Commander General Julian Byng knew that the troops had to advance quickly and flawlessly in order to surprise the Germans at the top of the hill. The later were not only defending the hill but the charcoal mines hidden within it with three rows of trenches at the south of the Ridge. Currie and Byng knew it would be a difficult battle therefore each stage of the assault had been practiced and repeated down to every minor detail by the Canadians. In a matter of hours we had reached the top of the Ridge and within days the Canadians saw a glorious victory in France. But not without a price, there was approximately 3500 Canadian casualties and 7000 injuries.
Today, there's a Vimy Ridge memorial site in France that the public can visit to remember and honor our heroic Canadian past. The monument is located on the highest point of the Ridge overlooking the past battlefield. "The Memorial does more than mark the side of the engagement that Canadians were to remember with more pride than any other operation of the First World War. It stands as a tribute to all who served their country in battle in that four-year struggle and particularly to those who gave their lives." (http://www.veterans.gc.ca/eng/memorials/ww1mem/vimy). At the base the words "To the valor of their countrymen in the Great war and in memory of their sixty thousand dead this monument is raised by the people of Canada." are written in French and English. In the walls of the monuments 11 285 names are carved of soldiers who have died in France (battle of Vimy Ridge, battle of the Somme etc...) during World War One and whose final resting place was then unknown. The monument was designed by a Canadian sculptor and took 11 years to build.
Among parts of the ceremony held at the Ridge today, Canadian artist Lizzy Hoyt (native from Alberta) preforms her song titled "Vimy Ridge". It's a beautiful song and allows us to see a more personal side of what we've all learnt in history class and read in books. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ML5vLA4XLFM&feature=g-hist&context=G2651027AHT4Mm3AAAAA is the link for the music video created for the song as well as the lyrics posted below:
Early in the morning, the cold snow falling down,
Easter of 1917.
My love climbed out from the tunnels underground,
And stepped to no-man’s land in between.
His last night was spent in the ground of the French
land;
With thousands of men he did wait.
He laid down his head upon the barrel of his gun,
A dark and cruel symbol of his fate.
Oh, my love can’t touch you now,
Or calm the fear that’s building deep within.
Oh, the terror you must have felt,
Waiting below the hill at Vimy Ridge.
An overpowering thunder from the creeping barrage,
Left no room for thoughts within their minds.
Forty pounds loaded down, the horror lingered on
Imprinted in their memories for all times.
Oh, my love can’t touch you now,
Or calm the fear you’re feeling deep within.
Oh, the terror you must have felt
Fighting on the hill at Vimy Ridge
A hard thump on his chest stopped time in it’s tracks;
His lucky streak had come and now had passed.
Ahead lay the fury; behind a different scene:
A quiet kingdom of death and casualties.
He lay waiting for the stretcher bearer to come.
The cold wind froze the clothes to his body.
Disbelief came over him “This couldn’t really be,
For I am now a young man still with dreams!”
Oh, my love can’t touch you now,
Or calm the fear you’re feeling deep within.
Oh, the terror you must have felt,
Dying on the hill at Vimy Ridge.
Early in the morning, the cold snow falling down,
Easter of 1917.
My love climbed out from the tunnels underground,
And stepped to no-man’s land in between.
War is often something that we have trouble wrapping our heads around. We have trouble imagining what it would be like and why it's so horrible. The concept of thousands and thousands of people dying is often hard to grasp because it's hard to think of it as a reality. That's why I felt it would be a good idea to post these next few paragraphs here, titled "Letter From a Vimy Soldier" to help us imagine what our past lineage had to go through.
Vimy France,
Friday April 13th 1917,
My dear Evelyn,
I miss you so much my love. Every day and every night you're in my thoughts. You're the one who keeps me alive because there are times that I wish that the Germans would take my life. It seems that being dead would be so much easier than having to live in these terrible war conditions. But seconds later your image enters my mind. I can see your smile, your hair and your eyes. I can almost hear your lovely voice telling me not to lose hope. And then I continue to persevere in the trenches filled with water and mud. It's at moments like these that I remember how much I love you. I regret not having the chance to write you sooner but today I finally had time. I want to tell you something of which I have thought of for weeks. When I get home, I would like for us to marry. I hope you accept. I want to be with you forever and this war will not stop me. We will go chose a ring together. Any one you want, it will be yours. I promise.
I hate to play with your heart even more my beautiful Evelyn, however I have some bad news. You must surely remember Henry, my best friend from our childhood? He died a few days ago. It was a long and painful death. He was so brave my best friend. Filled with courage, he was among the hundreds of us to face the no man's land that night. From my position in the trenches I saw Henry fall to his knees and I heard his cries of pain over the sounds of the shells, machine guns and orders being yelled from either side. He turned and looked at me one final time before he collapsed into the cold mud. His face was filled with fear and pain. That image will stay in my head forever. He kept his life for two days. I could always, always hear him pleading in hope that someone would come help him, hear him yelling my name hoping that I could come help him. Even if the war became horribly loud I could always hear Henry. I imagined him dying in a pool of his own blood. By the morning of the second day I was determined to jump out of the trench infested with rats and flies to at least go try and save my best friend. Another soldier stopped me just in time. As the sun was setting I heard a final cry, then silence. Henry had passed. That night he became just another body out of hundreds. He is in my prayers and I'm sure he will also be in yours.
The trench conditions have worsened incredibly. In rains so much in April as you know, as well as the snow that's been melting adds to the water and mud that have risen so much that it's difficult to walk. Everything is covered in mud, even the barbed wire. My clothes are heavy with mud and water, there are constantly flies in my field of vision, the earth, the mud, the water and the blood all seem to blend together and my matches are always wet. It's so humid here that several of the men are very sick. I know that eventually I will also be.
Evelyn you have a heart of gold and I do not wish to break it with this letter but I need someone whom I can talk to. I need someone to whom I can release my feelings. I need someone who loves me and who does not judge me. I need you.
The day after Henry died, I was walking in the trenches and I happened to step on something hard. I kicked it up to the surface. It was a body. A body among hundreds at the beginning of decomposition. However when I saw it, it was as if I saw Henry. If I had been alone I'd of cried for sure, but there were other men with me and I had to keep going while trying to stop the tears.
Yesterday my twelve days off have begun. They are greatly appreciated after our victory at Vimy Ridge. We won the battle, it was difficult but we won! Every step of the battle had been planned out and practiced numerous times. We reached the top of the ridge in just a few hours. It was a triumphant moment, knowing that all of our efforts had been worth it. The Germans had three rows of trenches with several layers of barbed wire around them. They were protecting their valuable coal mines. We lost 3548 men. It was so difficult to keep fighting when I could see men all around me dying and I couldn't help them. Many of my friends died that day. Sometimes I wonder why it is that I was able to avoid death. Why I can sit here with only a few injuries, only to continue living in this hell when I see men losing arms, legs and lives every day.
I spend my nights trembling. Whether it is from cold or from terror I do not know. Maybe it's a little of both. It gets more and more difficult to sleep. There isn't a night that we do not hear explosions and once I finally do get a few moments of sleep I dream of Henry, of my friends and of what could happen to me. There are nights that I dream of you my dear. But your face is stained with tears because I never made it home. I wake up in tears, knowing that I must be careful if I ever want to come back to you in one piece. And I want more than anything else to come back to you.
I think that my conscience is my worst enemy. Every time I kill a German in the no man's land the same thoughts are found in my head. I'm taking an innocent life. A German life it's true, nonetheless I'm sure that he did not want to be here anymore that I want to be. He probably had a girlfriend or a wife, maybe even children. Because of me, he'll never be able to see his children grow up and the children will never know their father. Because of me, the love of his life will spend the rest of her days wondering if their future would've been wonderful. This war causes me not only physical pain, but emotional pain as well. Will we ever stop fighting? It feels like this war will never end.
I can see the terror in the eyes of some of the younger soldiers. It's always there. They're not accustomed to being awoken in the middle of the night by the horrible sounds of war, by the cries of the dead and by the orders barked by commanders. They're not accustomed to the smell of fire, death, mud and rats or to the fact that the food has no taste. They complain and give a voice to their fears. We, as the ones who have been here longer forgive them for all of this at first. But if they knew that I'm just as afraid as they are. If they knew how terrible afraid that I am, even after being here for more than a year, they'd look at me as less than a man. Sometimes as I'm trying to fall asleep at night I wonder if God sees me as less than a man. It's certain that He knows how scared I am, how tired I am of participating in this war even if it means that I'm honoring my country. I wonder if He hears my prayers because I want so much to have a future with you. I don't want to die here in the cold, in the mud, in my own blood, without you at my side.
Evelyn, you're always in my heart and one day I will come home to you. I will get out of here. Remember that you are my strength, I could not survive in this hell without you. I hope you know that I love you and that we will see each other again. I hope for that to be soon.
With all my love,
Robert.
I know that this is a very long post, but I believe that the Vimy Ridge anniversary is something that was worth writing about. It was an event that marked our history as a country, a victorious even that brought us pride despite the numerous lives of brave soldiers that were lost in battle. May they all rest in peace.
