Back at the Garrison Church in Aldershot – well, we hadn’t really left, had we?
Most of the following photos were taken by the missus, as those of you who read the previous post will know that I was snapping away at the memorial plaques adorning the church walls much of the time we were here.
And inside, remember all these people patiently queueing for whatever they were queueing for?
Well this is what we were all waiting to see, and you may have seen reports in the last few months on the Beeb, or your newsfeed of choice, about this.
The Longest Yarn – A Thread Through History, is the work of an army of crocheters & knitters, and if you want to know why they partook in this grand enterprise, which has spent several months touring the country before finding its way to Aldershot prior to remembrance weekend, doubtless the interweb will tell all. The little book (above) that you can presumably get hold of for a tenner or so as I did takes you through each of the eighty scenes, and there follows a series of photos of a few that hopefully give a flavour of what the complete adventure looks like, with italicized text taken from the book.
This first one, however, I can find no trace of in the booklet, which is odd, but no matter. It shows Sherman tanks and other U.S. military vehicles clattering down a village street as life goes on as normal for the locals on the other side of the garden wall,…
…and a lady feeds her chickens. You could take dozens of pictures of little details like this as you go around each of the scenes.
‘Leaflets being dropped.’
‘Marching Soldiers.’
‘A pretty girl bravely distracts the German sentries whilst two airmen are hidden in the hay cart.’
‘Rupert & the clickers.’
‘Pegasus Bridge – the battle.’
‘Sainte Mere Eglise.’
‘Operation Neptune, the ships open fire.’
‘Juno Beach.’
‘Point du Hoc.’
‘Nuns appearing in Ouistreham (taken from the scene in the movie The Longest Day).’
‘Gliders everywhere.’
‘The 1st field hospital in the Utah Beach area.’
‘Houesville Paulette.’
‘The helmet.’
The missus even snapped a shot of yours truly doing what I tend to do – that’s Duncan the Younger on my right. The little black & white inset photograph might, with a little imagination, give some explanation into the Houesville Paulette scene a couple of pictures back, and I hope I don’t get into trouble for using it.
Speak of the devils. Add your own sub-title.
Back outside, round the side of the church,…
…there’s a memorial to the Airborne Forces in general,…
…and you can read the various tablets on three sides for yourselves.
Just about.
Back at the front of the church, you may remember that this is now Old Contemptibles Avenue,…
…but before that, it was known as Wellington Avenue, and for good reason, as you’ll see shortly. Today, much of what remains of Wellington Avenue* is called Willems Avenue and is a nondescript road at the back of a Tesco Superstore, but once upon a time Wellington Avenue would regularly host parades and marching bands, as this postcard, not one of mine, unfortunately, shows.
*there is still a Wellington Avenue in Aldershot, and indeed a Wellington Roundabout and a Wellesley Road, but all are, today, to the south of the church.
And this is today a housing estate.
However, this postcard, which is from my collection, taken from closer to the church (you can see the same fir trees in the background of the previous postcard) shows the men in this parade veering off to the north, and this is how you approach the church to this day.
At about this point, there’s now a Cross of Remembrance, and then, continuing around the corner,…
…there he is.
That’s Wellington, that is, and once upon a time he wasn’t there. Well, obviously there was a time he wasn’t there, what I mean is that once upon a time he was somewhere else.
Made mainly from cannon captured at Balaclava, Wellington’s completed statue, astride his famous charger ‘Copenhagen’, is seen here at Wyatt’s Foundry in London (left), and on its way to be placed in position (right)…
…atop the Wellington Arch at Hyde Park Corner (seen here in 1870), where it was unveiled in 1846, and where it pleased no one, other than, perhaps, the statue’s subscribers. Horse lovers hated the depiction of Copenhagen, mainly because it didn’t look at all like Copenhagen, who had had the temerity to die before he could pose for the sculptor, necessitating, quite literally, a stand-in. And anyone with half an eye for architecture could see that it was just too big for the arch on which it stood. The man who designed the arch, Decimus Burton, was so incensed that he left money in his will to have Wellington removed.
Queen Victoria didn’t like it either, because it blocked her view, but she couldn’t really get rid of it with the Duke still around, and in fact it would be the increase in traffic in the 1880s, necessitating a new road which in turn required the the arch to be moved a short distance, that would allow the opportunity for the Duke to be removed (above)…
…and taken to Green Park, where he and Copenhagen would await their fate. It was the Prince of Wales, the future King Edward VII, who suggested that Aldershot would be a fitting permanent home for the statue, ‘where it will be highly regarded by the Army’,…
…and he personally selected Round Hill as the site, the ceremony at which the statue was officially handed over to the British Army taking place in August 1885.
And there he stands to this day.
What shall we do next? Hm. Decisions, decisions. Tell you what, leave it with me, and I guarantee you I will come up with something of interest. Probably.