6
The Ypres Times.
linseed, and five or six women were weeding on hands and knees. We thought of calling
their attention to the fact that they were trespassing on our territory. A Frenchman at
the Chateau told us in a very American accent that the nearest now possible way to
Essex Farm," Essex Farm Road," once the windiest, was now all planted. Many
of the willows, even splinters, were in leaf.
We approached Canal Bank Road with bated curiosity. The road on the east side
looked like a cart track and Bridge Nc. 4 was not. An old labourer felling timber
amongst grassed-up heaps of unused and dud shells informed us, however, that we
could cross at the old (military) railway track, which we, rather gingerly, did. The canal
itself was the only throwback that we had yet seen. Three feet of fairly clear water
circulated along the centre amongst all sorts of obstructions, and except that all the dugouts
had been removeditself an incredible taskit looked about as dull a place as in 1917.
Having crossed to the eastern bank we picked our several ways amongst rather moist clay
and vegetation, to the road. Here, to our amazement, were to be seen wonderful farm
steads and the cleanest of fields. Joffre Farm," our old dugout locality, was occupied
by a large and up-to-date farmstead with extensive outbuildingsall in brickand dogs
of various calibre bayed at our approach. Where were the old communication trenches
Where indeed Occasionally we fancied we could trace them by some suggestion of sand
amongst the light corn and finally we concluded we had found the site of our old dugout,
which Pick 1 hotographed.
It was getting late now and we hurried back across the canal and along Canal Bank
Road to Salvation Corner." All the houses were rebuilt and we were rather astonished
that the nearest estaminet was not called Salvation (a la Hotel Vindictive at
Ostend). But all traces of the name have vanished. At last we entered Ypres, now all
like a new town except for occasional gaps. Arriving at the Cloth Hall now threatening
to become a somewhat formal cement pointed ruin, we proceeded to compare notes and
impressions, and then back by taxi to Pop." and bed.
Sunday we rose at 9.30 and as I was very anxious to see a dear old friend's grave at
Dickebusch and we had arranged to run to Ypres by taxi, I persuaded Pick and the
skipper to make a detour via Dickebusch. The district looked more naked and water
logged, and here and there were deep holes in the pavé, the chauffeur explaining that the
roads we were on were communales not routes nationales. The New Military Cemetery
89 of the Ypres League map was on the left, with the small Extension on the right,
and here I found the object of my search with the original wooden cross with its tin
embossed inscription. I placed a pansy on the cross and Pick photographed it. This
cemetery was, of course, not completed, and doubtless in the very near future the head
stones will be placed in position.
We continued to the Cloth Hall in the taxi. We pulled up near the laundry and tried
to locate a camp which I had promised to photograph for a friend, but we found to our
astonishment that it was closely built up and behind the row of houses was a concrete
pipe factory. Leaving the taxi in the Square we soon found ourselves on the old Pitts
burg Road," now little more than a bridle path. There were no signs, except a bit of
ditch revetment, of our ever having been there. A few nettles marked where the 15 in.
howitzers barked in October, 1917, and a few dead trees showed the battery position just
beyond, but the O.P. was either gone or built into some farm buildings, there being a large
farm on the site. We carried on to Zouave Villa," where we almost held our breath.
An estaminet stood at the cross roads sacred to us all, and burnt into our memory by livid
scars, and we had a bottle of beer in it. I felt uncanny. Burnt Farm," which we saw
yesterday, was a very large red-tiled farmsteadWe looked up Pillten Road. The old
tree trunk O.P. had gone, and turning to the right we proceeded along Buffs Road."
Not a soul was to be seen and we marvelled at the tranquillity which evidently was the
pre-war state of this district. The concrete dressing station had all gone. A new farm