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| Mitrailleurnesten 'Stutzpunkte' op de rug van Aubers 'Aubers Ridge' - die de Britten tijdens de Slag van Neuve-Chapelle niet in handen kregen, trouwens... |
De Slag van Neuve-Chapelle. Een van de eerste degelijk voorbereide Britse offensieven, geleid door dezelfde gek die twee jaar later in Passendaele bijna een miljoen jonge gasten zou laten afslachten - geallieerde en Duits-Oostenrijkse samen, whatever.
Bedoeling was om een een iets hoger gelegen stukje in handen te krijgen en zo de weg open te breken naar Lille. Zoals zo vaak stuurde hij eerst de kolonies in de vuurlinie, in dit geval eenheden van het India Korps. Meer dan 4000 van hen zouden 't niet meer navertellen...
Bedoeling was om een een iets hoger gelegen stukje in handen te krijgen en zo de weg open te breken naar Lille. Zoals zo vaak stuurde hij eerst de kolonies in de vuurlinie, in dit geval eenheden van het India Korps. Meer dan 4000 van hen zouden 't niet meer navertellen...
Neuve-Chapelle werd slechts een anecdote in het grote geheel. Het offensief liep na een paar dagen vast en de terreinwinst bedroeg nauwelijks 2 kilometer.
Sommige zaken vallen gewoon niet te vatten, eigenlijk...
Green Fields Of France (Eric Bogle) - Dropkick Murphys
Well, how do you do, Private William McBride,
Do you mind if I sit down here by your graveside?
And rest for awhile in the warm summer sun,
I've been walking all day, and I'm nearly done.
And I see by your gravestone you were only 19
When you joined the glorious fallen in 1916,
Well, I hope you died quick and I hope you died clean
Or, Willie McBride, was it slow and obscene?
Did they Beat the drum slowly, did the play the pipes lowly?
Did the rifles fir o'er you as they lowered you down?
Did the bugles sound The Last Post in chorus?
Did the pipes play the Flowers of the Forest?
And did you leave a wife or a sweetheart behind
In some loyal heart is your memory enshrined?
And, though you died back in 1916,
To that loyal heart are you forever 19?
Or are you a stranger without even a name,
Forever enshrined behind some glass pane,
In an old photograph, torn and tattered and stained,
And fading to yellow in a brown leather frame?
The sun's shining down on these green fields of France;
The warm wind blows gently, and the red poppies dance.
The trenches have vanished long under the plow;
No gas and no barbed wire, no guns firing now.
But here in this graveyard that's still No Man's Land
The countless white crosses in mute witness stand
To man's blind indifference to his fellow man.
And a whole generation who were butchered and damned.
And I can't help but wonder, no Willie McBride,
Do all those who lie here know why they died?
Did you really believe them when they told you "The Cause?"
Did you really believe that this war would end wars?
Well the suffering, the sorrow, the glory, the shame
The killing, the dying, it was all done in vain,
For Willie McBride, it all happened again,
And again, and again, and again, and again.
Mocht je meer willen weten...
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| Een van de 4.800 namen op het Indian War Memorial - Neuve-Chapelle |
Green Fields Of France (Eric Bogle) - Dropkick Murphys
Well, how do you do, Private William McBride,
Do you mind if I sit down here by your graveside?
And rest for awhile in the warm summer sun,
I've been walking all day, and I'm nearly done.
And I see by your gravestone you were only 19
When you joined the glorious fallen in 1916,
Well, I hope you died quick and I hope you died clean
Or, Willie McBride, was it slow and obscene?
Did they Beat the drum slowly, did the play the pipes lowly?
Did the rifles fir o'er you as they lowered you down?
Did the bugles sound The Last Post in chorus?
Did the pipes play the Flowers of the Forest?
And did you leave a wife or a sweetheart behind
In some loyal heart is your memory enshrined?
And, though you died back in 1916,
To that loyal heart are you forever 19?
Or are you a stranger without even a name,
Forever enshrined behind some glass pane,
In an old photograph, torn and tattered and stained,
And fading to yellow in a brown leather frame?
The sun's shining down on these green fields of France;
The warm wind blows gently, and the red poppies dance.
The trenches have vanished long under the plow;
No gas and no barbed wire, no guns firing now.
But here in this graveyard that's still No Man's Land
The countless white crosses in mute witness stand
To man's blind indifference to his fellow man.
And a whole generation who were butchered and damned.
And I can't help but wonder, no Willie McBride,
Do all those who lie here know why they died?
Did you really believe them when they told you "The Cause?"
Did you really believe that this war would end wars?
Well the suffering, the sorrow, the glory, the shame
The killing, the dying, it was all done in vain,
For Willie McBride, it all happened again,
And again, and again, and again, and again.
Mocht je meer willen weten...
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| Meer Stutzpunkte op het voormalige front, een kilometer of twee hier vandaan... |
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