The Last Post Ypres

[Willy Van der Linden]

Yesterday. 11 November. 10 am. It was raining. One hour later the sun was
shining. "Please take up your place under the Menin Gate by 10.15 am." That
was printed on the badge that I had received in the Tourist Office in Ypres.
It was a badge for pressmen. There were even men who worked for the Nepali
TV. One moment they realized that they were standing in front of my camera.
They apologized. They thought that I was an important cameraman filming for
a Belgian TV channel or whatever. Some months ago I wrote a letter to The
Commonwealth Association ... I told them that I was a good filmmaker. Telling
lies and/or boasting is permitted if you would like to obtain something like
a badge.

In Ypres there were people from all over the world. The Menin Gate is only
100 yards wide, but there were thousands of people to remember the many thousands
of young men that were killed in the mud of the First World War. Most spectators
were from Britain. You could recognize them. Their physlognomy. There were
also English policemen, ... bobbies. Ypres was British territory !

I was standing on a stage right in the middle of the Gate, but it was still
difficult to film the men who played "The Last Post" on their trumpet. A
Union Jack was lowered and I couldn't see them anymore. I also had to adjust
the exposure of my camera all the time. But then thousand of petals of poppies
whirled down under the Menin Gate. It only lasted for one or two minutes,
but that was "le moment suprème", the moment that I wanted to film. After
the Belgian anthem and "God Save the Queen" a Scottish band and soldiers
passed by. At that moment I was lying with my camera on the wet ground on
a "bed" of poppy petals made of red coloured paper... and as it had rained...
I could take wonderful shots in frog's eye perspective. Luckily my wife couldn't
see me... She was standing in the crowd one kilometre further up. She would
have been ashamed. Afterwards I stood up and my hands were red... Imagine,
an old man with a white moustache lying on the wet ground while he was filming.
Stupid, isn't it ? But afterwards I was happy with the shots that I had taken.

In the early afternoon I went to Tyne Cot Cemetery. There were about 15 English
coaches ! Thanks to my next film about World War I I got acquainted with
some people who work for "Flanders Fields". Sorry, but I didn't see Dominiek
Dendooven, Geoff ! Geoff Harrison is a member of the Preston Movie Makers
and one of my new English friends. He knows what I mean. He reads the forum
almost every day. But I saw Freddy, the President of the Passchendaele Museum
and Tyne Cot Cemetery. I promised to give him a wonderful film about Tyne
Cot Cemetery. Lenght : only 3 minutes. Edited on the rhythm of music. That
wonderful piece of art was made by one of my friends. That film may be useful
for Freddy's Passchendaele Museum website. He promised to call me when the
mortal remains of a soldier will be found and dug up. So I must do my utmost
to please him. As you see making films is a very fascinating hobby. You can
make friends and experience interesting things.
Willy

Sorry, Dave, that I interrupted the theme of the international festivals.
I am also anxious to know what other friends will tell us about your statement.
Willy

[Dave Watterson]

"Willy Van der Linden" <forums@theiac.org.uk> wrote:

Yesterday. 11 November. 10 am. It was raining. One hour later the sun was
shining. "Please take up your place under the Menin Gate by 10.15 am."

During UNICA 2005 300 of us went to Ypres. Jan and I left the museum "In
Flanders Field" early - it is excellent and overwhelming. We had coffee
and pancake then went on to the Menin Gate for the daily remembrance. Minutes
before the ceremony I was called out of the crowd by Wolfgang Freuer and
asked to say the words.

I stood in the centre of the cross-shaped archway. The walls are entirely
covered with the names of names of 54,896 officers and men from all the overseas
British and Commonwealth forces who fell in the Ypres Salient before 16 August
1917. After the fanfare from members of the Ypres Fire Brigade there was
dead silence. Trembling inside I spoke the fourth verse from Laurence Binyon's
poem 'For the Fallen'. The buglers played the Last Post, UNICA's President,
Max Haensli, placed a wreath. And we went slowly on to other things. It
was hours before I stopped shaking.

On that occasions there were 300 UNICA delegates mostly middle-aged and upwards.
There were coach parties from all over the place - mostly middle aged and
upwards. There was a handful of old soldiers in uniforms - mostly very old.
Most of the men who died there were under 20 years old. And so the words
had special resonance:

"They shall not grow old, as we that are left grow old.
Age shall not weary them, not the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning,
We will remember them."

Dave