Surely you’ve seen my picture taken in posts past.
M and I have been visiting countless cemeteries throughout the South-West of Flanders in the last, oh say, 8 years, all the way down to the North of France.
There was mud and cold, there was anger, snow, angry farmers, sliding wheels and broken cameras. And there was redemption by the side of a Grimbergen at the end of the day. I’ve learnt a lot about WWI from a British perspective through M.
I myself have a story to tell from the Flemish side. A dark story that involves a wife killer butcher who, between ’14/’18, fell under either German or British jurisdiction, and was subsequently released from jail, right when the war ended.
I’ve still to verify sources for now though, so hang on.
In the mean time, check out this splendid 12-part Flemish TV-series, aptly entitled In Vlaamse Velden.