My family and I visited Ypres (now Ieper) in Belgium a few years ago when
I was doing research on my first Muskoka Novel, The Summer Before The Storm,
set during WW1. The first thing that struck me, besides the fact that the city
has been beautifully restored from the rubble of war, was that Lt. Col. John
McCrae’s famous poem, “In Flanders Fields” – penned on the battlefields nearby
- was plastered everywhere about the town, even in our hotel lobby. The WW1
museum, housed in the rebuilt Cloth Hall, is called “In Flanders Fields”. How
surprised I was when I boasted to the owner of the English bookstore that I lived
in John McCrae’s hometown, only to have him casually reply, “Oh, you’re from
Guelph, Ontario.”
I know that the small museum in Guelph honouring John McCrae
regularly has visitors from Europe, so their respect for this famous
doctor-poet is more than lip service for tourists.
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| The author paying homage at John McCrae's grave in Wimereux, France |
We attended [McCrae’s]
poignant funeral in Wimereux along with so many others, including lots of brass
hats, which speaks of the esteem in which the Col. was held. What was almost
hardest to bear was to see the Colonel’s horse, Bonfire, following the
flag-draped coffin, with the Colonel’s riding boots reversed in the stirrups.
I’ve never seen a sadder animal, for surely he must have known that his beloved
master was gone. I cried hardest then… Among the many flowers was a wreath of
artificial poppies that the officers from the Colonel’s hospital had managed to
procure from Paris. I do think that the Colonel’s most famous poem resonates
with everyone, for it seems as if a veil of sorrow has descended on all the
staff and patients here. His words will live on and touch many more lives –
children yet unborn. That is a noble legacy, is it not?
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