Graves in the wood

Lorna Boshoff visits a site of sheer devastation for South Africa during WW1

PICARDIE in northern France is pervaded by melancholy - even on a summer's day in June. At least, that was my impression. Of course, it has something to do with those military cemeteries, each with its huge stone cross. But the towns also have a sad look about them and there are big black birds in the open fields.

We stopped (I was with friends) at Delville Wood, which is near the village of Longueval. That's where we came upon the most poignant cemetery of all - the wood itself. For the most part, those who fell there stayed there.

Delville Wood - which covered barely 2.5km² - was of huge strategic importance. Both sides wanted it. And the South Africans were given the daunting task of securing it for the allies.

But how could they? More troops were needed. More of everything was needed. The odds against them were overwhelming.

It's painful to go into the statistics but there's no better way to reveal the tragedy that took place there. There were 3150 troops who entered the wood on July 15 1916. They were evacuated six days later - all 143 of them. More than 1000 were dead or missing, and well over 1000 were wounded. Their brave stand is the stuff of legend.

Fighting continued, and it was only on August 25 that the allies finally took the wood - if it could still be called a "wood". By that time, only one tree was left standing. It's still standing and it's still got some shrapnel in its trunk. It's the veteran of the new Delville Wood, which now flourishes on all sides.

Close at hand is the war monument, designed by Sir Herbert Baker. It looked familiar. Of course! We had seen it before in front of the Union Buildings in Pretoria. We had also seen it in The Company's Garden in Cape Town. But those were only replicas. This was the "real thing", paid for by public subscription and unveiled in 1926.

Behind the monument is the war museum, opened in 1986. It also looked strangely familiar. Hardly surprising - it has the star-shape design of The Castle of Good Hope in Cape Town. The Cross of Consecration can be seen in the central courtyard.

Looking at the memorabilia in the museum - the photos, the letters, the diaries - I somehow felt a sense of personal loss. It all seemed so unfair. The paintings of SA landscapes reminded us that these troops were a long way from home. The mural with scenes of the battle showed us their cruel destiny.

An avenue of oaks leads to the monument and museum. The oaks were planted in 1920 and the acorns came from South Africa. But they weren't just any acorns. They were taken from a specific tree, planted in 1680 by Jean Gardiol, a Huguenot settler in the Cape. What better symbol for the links between South Africa and France?

We left Delville Wood in a pensive mood. The words of the inscription on the monument were still fresh in our minds.

"To the immortal dead from South Africa, who at the call of duty made the great sacrifice on the battlefields of Africa, Asia and Europe and on the sea, this memorial is dedicated in proud and grateful recognition by their countrymen." - © Lorna Boshoff

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