November 11th, 2011 
        (11/11/11)


Local History:
The Cockleshell Heroes were twelve Royal Marines who were assigned the mission of blowing up German supply ships in Bordeaux harbor from "cockleshell" canoes which they had to paddle 75 miles the their targets. Two team members didn't take part as their canoe was damaged while being readied on the submarine. It was December 1942 and within twelve days two men had died of hypothermia, four were captured, tortured and shot, two captured (later shot) and two were making their escape. They had managed to blow up 5 or 6 boats and disrupt the shipping lines. The two surviors travelled 100 miles north in six days to the town of Ruffec (6km/4 miles from us) to the still standing La Toque Blanche Hotel where they were helped by the French Resistance and eventually made it back to England. This is a very short synopis of these extremely brave soldiers whose actions Winston Churchill said had shortened the war by six months. For more information read the book, watch the movie or go to: http://www.historylearningsite.co.uk/cockleshell_heroes_of_1942.htm
or
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Operation_Frankton


Did you know that in the D-Day rehearsal 946 American service men were killed, some by friendly fire and others,  after their ships were torpedoed by German E- boats, by drowning as they had put on their lifebelts incorrectly? In some cases this meant that when they jumped into the water, the weight of their combat packs flipped them onto their backs, pushing their heads underwater and drowning them.


Remembrance Day, Armistice Day, Veterans Day, "Jour du Souvenir"




The Ceremony:

We were invited by Scottish Mike and his wife Helen to attend their village remembrance ceremony. It was a sunny day with a slight autumn wind. The villagers and guests gathered in the square in front of the war memorial etched with the names of the fallen from World War I and II. There were four flag bearers - three french flags and the British Union Jack. With the color guard leading, we walked around the church returning to the cenotaph. There was a speech by the Mayor (Mairie) and then roll call of the 34 names of the dead soldiers and after each name a woman answered "Morte pour la France", two minutes of silence then taps was played and 3 wreathes were placed, each accompanied by a soldier.  A dozen orderly children each solemnly placed a single rose in front of the memorial.  Another speech by the mayor and the crowd was dispersed. There were old soldiers proudly displaying their medals and I am sure these men become fewer and fewer each year. Most French villages and towns have memorials to the dead which were usually erected immediately after World war I with locally collected funds. After World War II, the names of the hometown soldiers who had died were either added to these monuments or a new monument created. Many towns also erected monuments to honor members of the French Resistance and the allied countries have memorials throughout France to honor the thousands who died in both wars on French soil.

The Meal:

We headed over to a building where Sangria and little squares of flaky pastries with different toppings were served.

We then went into the village hall (Salle de fêtes) where over 120 linen tableclothed place settings had been laid. The meal was phenomenal with 7 courses (soup, paté, fish course, sherbert, meat course, cheese plate and desert of a light, fluffy Black Forest Cake (Hmmm...that's in Germany isn't it?), then coffee with Cognac! Rosé, white and red wines flowed throughout meal. Wow - thank goodness this was over a period of 5+ hours. During the meal an older gent welcomed and recognized the attendees from New Zealand, Scotland, England, Belgium, Canada and America and I believe they were all seated at our table! A raffle was held - 3€ per ticket - and each ticket won a prize. How democratic! It was a thoroughly living-in-France experience.

Instead of selling poppies in France (a tradition started by an American woman but which is not widespread in the US) stickers are sold which are then displayed on lapels.  I had my poppy from Canada, which is different from the British ones, and somewhere that day I lost the black center.

Translation: The memory is passed on giving hope

 

Below is an email I received from our friend Pat who lives in northern Ontario, Canada in reply to my request for a new poppy, just knowing she would have bought one...

Hi Joanne, it's funny that you would ask for a poppy - a Remembrance Day poppy.
I didn't get one this year . . . don't know why or how I missed getting one but I only know that today as I walked up to the Town Centre to participate in the ceremonies, I felt like something was missing.
I wore all black except for my red wool scarf and red tam.
The event was well attended by 3 schools, soldiers and cadets from Base Petatwawa and other military dignitaries. Prayers were recited along with "Flanders Fields," and a wonderful original song written and  played by a local guitar talent.
Then the laying of wreaths by all of them began. My feet were becoming numb from the cold but I was determined to stay until the end out of respect for all the people, some now long gone, who gave their very lives just so I could express my freedom and attend a public demonstration like today.
There were 2 wreaths left. The speaker asked if there was anyone who would like to place a wreath on the 2 white crosses that stood empty on the lawn. A man came out from the crowd and accompanied by a soldier, laid the wreath.
There was a pause.
Then an unseen hand pushed me forward to lay the last wreath.
I did so fighting back emotion and teary eyed, proud at the same time.
I also looked at the soldier who went with me and after he saluted the wreath I laid, I thanked him for being here.
My conscience is clear now that I didn't get a poppy this year.
I laid a wreath at the cenataph instead . . . .

Lest we forget.