At the end of the large central square (grote markt), stradling one of the main roads into the Flemish town of Ieper stands the Menin Gate. It's an imposing structure and wherever you wander in the square your eyes are drawn to it despite the splendid buildings around you. Inexorably. It's hard to ignore and that's the way it should be.
If you first approach the Menin Gate without any idea of what it is, it appears similar to other arched stone gateways that span the entrances to European towns. But then you might spot the memorial wreaths and the inscription etched into its summit. It's only when you pass under the first arch, though, that you realize the entire inside surface of this huge structure is etched. The marks are so small, you might not recognize them at first as writing. Names. Rank upon rank of names arranged in straight columns, marching up and down the stone. They are the names of the soldiers of the British Expeditionary Force who died in decisive battles at Ieper (1914, 1915 and 1917) defending the liberty of Belgium and all of Europe in WWI. There are almost 55,000 of them, etched there in that cold stone.
It's mindboggling, approaching these columns of names, trying to wrap your mind around the price that was paid by those regiments in this one little corner of the Continent. So many names, each representing a person who died here in battle. Then (or maybe later) you come to learn that the names etched on the Menin Gate don't represent the total British casualties at Ieper. They only represent those whose bodies were never found. And there are more. The names didn't all fit here, so some of them are memorialized elsewhere).
All together, the British Commonwealth, including the UK, Australia, New Zealand, Canada and others, lost over 135,000 men in the Ieper Salient. The inscription over the Menin Gate reads as follows:To the armies of The British Empire who stood here from 1914-1918 and to those of their dead who have no known grave
Those armies suffered the horrors of trench warfare and the first German experiments with the use of chlorine gas. French and Belgian soldiers fought and died in these battles as well, of course, and they have memorials of their own. Ieper (or Ypres, as it's called in French) is only twelve kilometers from the French border.
I've been thinking about the Menin Gate a lot over the past few days. As I said, it's an impressive monument. I used to think that it represented clear and concrete evidence of Belgium's understanding of the debt they owe to their defenders across the Channel. Every single night at 8 p.m., the road through the Gate is closed and six buglers play a moving tribute to the war dead called The Last Post. Every night. The Flanders Field Museum sits at the opposite end of the square, another apparent acknowledgement that freedom doesn't come painlessly, that sacrifices must be endured to guaranty its survival.
I guess I was wrong. When I look at Belgium today, I see a country obsessed with its own incredibly misplaced sense of self-importance. I have to wonder what they're thinking when they hear the bugles of The Last Post in Ieper now. Maybe they figure that's just for the tourists.
