And on into Germany

But not before having a look round some of the places Grandpa mentions in his diary. Steenwerck where he was in hospital for a couple of days just before falling into German hands, Erquighem where he rejoined his group, also Estaires and Sailly sur la lys the twin town of Carnforth where we visited a German cemetery. It's interesting to note the dates in the various cemeteries and to find Germans who died around the time Grandpa became a prisoner. You can trace the offensives etc. Visited an Erquighem boulangerie patisserie and had a very nice lunch by the river.

Then on the motorway from La Chappelle d'Armentieres (also in the diary) through non-stop to Siegen where Marianne was finishing meal prep and after conversation with Charlotte and eating, we sat out (just warm enough), before retiring to Gasthaus Reuter nebenan.

The Western Front

We left Kingston at 6.45 this morning and by 10.30 French time we were in Calais and an hour later on the Western Front in the territory where my grandfather fell into German hands in April 1918. Until this 100th anniversary year of the outbreak of the First World War I've never been particularly curious about anything to do with it. However, having become acquainted with the diary he kept, and now read All Quiet on the Western Front, a novel from the German perspective, it is fascinating to discover the commonalities of the experience. And the First World War seems increasingly inexplicable, even absurd, the more you find out about it! Ieper/Ypres offers a last post remembrance experience every day at 8pm and is clearly on a certain type of Briton's tourist trail. Add to that, it'll be Anzac Day in a couple of days and ceremonies are being prepared, and you sense just how pivotal WW1 still seems to many.

We're staying the night at Broekenstraat just west of Nieppe where my grandfather's active participation in the war came to an end and his 8 months as a prisoner-of-war began. The area is dotted with cemeteries, the dates of which tell the story of territory that exchanged hands more than once without either side gaining decisive advantage through it. The hills of Flanders make for a pleasant experience not least at this time of year with larks singing, yellow wagtail, swallows, partridges, lapwing seen, chiffchaffs calling, blackcaps in full song etc., a fabulous bluebell wood on the slopes of Mont Kemmel.

It's fascinating also to be staying 700 meters inside Belgium, a country we haven't stopped in before. I'm ready to use my French, but no-one seems to speak it even though - or precisely because - France is so close. German is equally unused, but many people seem to have a fair amount of English as the foreign language of choice. Still don't really see how a country can be said to have borders if it isn't surrounded by sea or some other major barrier.

Our B&B hosts are the same age as us, already retired and developing interests in music, puppets and story-telling. Quite a bit of this seemed to come from a regional, provincial pride. They kitted us out with a map and info that lead us, as it turned out, to a very acceptable omelette and salad in Kemmel in a fairly basic bar where in her turn the landlady kitted us out with stuff relating to the Flanders fields, especially in relation to the 1914 anniversary. So many impressions...

We did Sleepeasy

It was like the parting of the Red Sea.

Saturday afternoon at 4.30 there was a mini-tornado when the trees were blowing horizontal and the heavens opened yet again to the accompaniment of thunder and lightning. Sunday at 10am it was tipping it down and continued for a few hours. In between there was Sleepeasy the YMCA's annual fundraising event which in Kingston supports KCAH (Kingston Churches Action on Homelessness), and YMCA London South West's own hostel provision as a first step into accommodation.

We committed ourselves to joining the sleep out event, Heather being persuaded when Michael from the church promised me £25 that he would double if she joined in. A week of widening the circle of contacts has seen us exceed our target of £500, topping £800 by Sunday afternoon with more almost certainly on the way.

Having kitted ourselves out with an exercise mat, sleeping bag and pillow, such as we would provide to guests in the Night Shelter when it takes place at our church we picked our spot among the tombstones of the Memorial Gardens where  

we laid our ground sheet, and with the cardboard box supplied to each of us set about creating our shelter - no easy task in the still gusty wind of the mid-evening. Well over 100 people shared the experience, though not all seemed to have sleep as a priority! Though we heard the hour strike from the All Saints clock tower more times than we might have wished, we probably slept more than it seemed, and the first time we needed to get up was when it was time to be packing up and enjoying the bacon sandwich on offer, before the 7 minute walk home.

Getting in and out of our low shelter was challenging for people at our stage in life, and we emerged with assorted aches and pains. Plastic survival bags that we used with our sleeping bags may not have been the greatest idea as it was a dry night - we ended up lying in more condensation than we might have wished. From the perspective of the next night though - or indeed the previous one - both colder and wetter, the weather couldn't have been much kinder.

What you can't experience is what a homeless person goes through. Being able to return home at 6.30, grab a little more sleep, have a shower and begin to tell the story through pictures by email, on Facebook and Twitter is to belong in a different world. Then to go on to the privilege of conducting worship, leading the small congregation in thankfulness and in prayers for others at the start of Poverty and Homelessness Sunday. No genuine empathy perhaps, but a share in keeping the plight of so many from being forgotten.

And of course thank you to so many for sharing in sponsoring our participation.