Tyncot

Didn't think I would ever decide that two days of our trip should be privileged to have a blog to itself but here goes...

Private Herbert Henry Soars... 2nd Bn, Australian Infantry, A.I.F., Killed in action 8 November 1917. Age 32. Son of Alfred and Elizabeth Soars, of Gloucester, New South Wales.

A man unknown to me whose grave my Dadda (Len Clapham) asked if I could visit. I was told his grave was at Tyncot Cemetery, Passchendaela, Flanders, Belgium.
I thought "Sure, that sounds easy"... We left the safety and warmth of Kerry and Greg’s Paris apartment at about 8 yesterday morning, intending to catch an 8.30 train to Brussels, stay the night in Brugge in Belgium and then visit Herbert Soars' memorial the next day. We went to the counter to reserve our ticket (as it should have been free on our 'Eurail' pass) but we were told that all the trains were either booked out or would cost us around 30 Euros each, as the train company wasn't compatible with our pass. After pressing and saying that we had booked accommodation and needed to get there we were told there was one possibility but it left at 12 midday and took about 5 and a half hours instead of 2.
Well we said sure if that's what it takes. The plan was to go to the cemetery the day after and then head back to Paris in the early afternoon. But on a whim we decided we should book the train for the next day in case the same thing happened... and it did, but the problem was that the only train we could get back to Paris was leaving at 11am. So this meant we would get to Belgium at 5.30 pm and have to leave again the next morning at 11am.
Well... we had already booked the first tickets so thought "why not spend 20 hours in Belgium" but it still meant we would not have enough time to visit Herbert Soars.

I was desperate to visit Herbert's grave not only for my dear Dadda but also for myself, so I started looking on the internet for a way to visit him and get back to Paris. And I found a way. It would take a while and be a bit of extra money but we booked it and all was well until...
We turned up at Ieper train station where it was necessary to catch a bus to get to Tyncot cemetery. The bus was there and just about to leave which was perfect, but you wouldn't believe that between the three of us (Alex, Ryan and myself) we didn't have enough money to pay the 3 euro fare each, and the next bus was an hour later. The bus left without us and we went to find an ATM. We now only had a turn around time of about 2 hours to get to the cemetery, find the tombstone and get back for our train. Angry, frustrated tears were flowing and ATM's were scarce, all the while the clouds had decided to erupt and we were getting soaked.
But... We got the next train got to Tyncot and started to look around with about half an hour to scour the hundreds of headstones for Herbert Soars. Luckily I had looked up a grave reference. I asked a man who appeared to be a school teacher if he knew how the numbering system worked. He said he had a map somewhere but not on him. Later he chased me down with a wet map in hand and said "Here I don't need this anymore, hope it helps". Oh the warmth one feels when someone is kind in a time of trouble!

Speed walking wildly around a cemetery isn't the most respectful of things and slipping on mud felt very un-lady-like, but i was determined that I had got this far and I was going to find and pay my respects to Mr Soars.
And you wouldn't believe it but we found him! Right near the front, emphasised by lovely yellow flowers. Although the rain was pouring my spirits were soaring as I looked at his name and the inscription under it:

"Too sadly missed and dearly loved to ever be forgotten"

I would hope that when I am alive I will be dearly loved and that when I am gone I will be sadly missed and never forgotten... But I suppose one day we will all be forgotten.
Yesterday was Remembrance Day. I remember being annoyed at school when we were interrupted and had to stand for a minutes silence. But a minute isn't much to remember those who fought for the freedom of their future generations and who gave their lives so that we might be free.

Today also helped me to remember and thank the One who gave his life for our freedom. Jesus. We are dearly loved by Him and we will never be forgotten by Him. No matter what it takes its important to remember that.

So today I thank Dadda and Herbert Henry Soars for these reminders. That it is important to be thankful, no matter how awful or frustrating or wet or cold or stressful a situation is.

“Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it”

George Santayana.

Tyncot Cemetery

Herbert Henry Soars.