Sunday 26 October 2014

3 chaps, 2 Morgans, 6 wreaths, 1 plaque, a cemetery & an important journey to mark a WW1 centenary



On Thursday 30th October 2014, I will be setting out from Gheluvelt Park in Worcester in my beloved Morgan Plus 4 (Molly) with my old school chum Nigel Bradford and his friend Neil Styles in Nigel's 4/4 Four Seater (Gladys). The story behind our journey to honour the courage and sacrifice of the men who fought in the First World War is given in the beautiful piece written by Nigel at the end of the blog below.



We are honoured to be taking wreaths on behalf of various Worcestershire organisations that we will be representing on Friday 31st October in Gheluvelt: the Old Malvernians (former pupils of Malvern College that Nigel and Neil attended), the Old Vigornians (the former pupils of King's School Worcester, my old school), the people of Worcester City, the Morgan Motor Company, the Worcestershire Cricket Club, and, of course, the Worcestershire Regiment.



A number of Old Vigornians will be attended a service of dedication in St George's Church Ypres, where a plaque to commemorate the OV's who perished in the war will be unveiled and I will be reading a list of their names as part of the ceremony.

On our way home, we are going to visit the cemetery in Contay, France. This is where my wife Lit's great great uncle, Jonathan Tombs is buried. Lit wrote a lovely piece on Jonathan in her blog here Lit's blogpost on WW1 and Jonathan Tombs. With it being so difficult for Lit to travel that far, I am going to visit his grave for her. Jonathan died in October 1916, having travelled to France from Canada (via England) as part of the Canadian First Pioneer Battalion. Originally from a farm in Edwyn Ralph in Herefordshire, Jonathan was one of 29,029 Canadian casualties during the Battle of the Somme, lost in the fight for a 6 km stretch of mud.






The story behind the trip written by Nigel Bradford RD

There's a Park in Worcester called Gheluvelt. Growing up I played on its swings and enormous slide, paddled in its pool, fed its ducks, rode on its miniature steam trains and fancied myself to be Tony Jacklin on its putting green. In short, it was a child's paradise. 

But where did its name come from? Some might imagine the name to be taken from another more famous pleasure grounds, like Tivoli, Belle Vue, or Vauxhall. To some, even to this day, the name is too exotic, or too foreign, and they still refer to it with splendid Worcester cussedness as Barbourne Park.

The clues come from the smart little houses built along the park's northern side. These are homes for ex soldiers, some built in memory of a fallen son of a privileged  family. A poignant reminder that combat does not recognise such privilege. Then there is the main gate to the park itself. A splendid red brick archway with wrought iron gates painted in the Faithful City's red and black and bearing its Arms, but on that brickwork are two terracotta wreaths. They are not laurel wreaths of victory, but wreaths of mourning, so this is no triumphal archway. 

Over the years I slowly became aware of what and where Gheluvelt is. That it is a small village on the Menin Road, just to the east of Ypres. Now those are names that people from all over the country have heard of, names that signify courage, sacrifice, mud, bullets and Hell on Earth. Clearly not names you might associate with a pleasure park.

As this centenary year of the start of the Great War progresses, much will be made of how Britain was swept along in enthusiasm for war, to teach the the Kaiser a lesson. How men flocked to volunteer to fight for King and Country. How everyone said it would be all over by Christmas. Indeed one famous Worcestershire company, Morgan Motors, who had just opened a brand new factory in Malvern, announced that all its employees who rallied to the colours, would have their jobs kept open for their return at the end of "the present crisis". We will be reminded of how the British Expeditionary Force advanced towards Germany through Belgium. Then how they were forced to retreat in ignominy through towns that had previously welcomed them as the Heroes that had come to save them from the Hun.

All this was to come to an end, in the First Battle of Ypres, at a little place called Gheluvelt. 

It was the morning of the 31st of October, and the 400 men of the 2nd Battalion of the Worcestershire Regiment were resting in the cover of a polygon shaped wood a few miles to the northwest of Ypres. They were dirty and tired. Concern was growing, they had been ordered to stop. Other British units were continuing to retreat. Words were spoken, some in jest but nonetheless expressing resentment at the men who continued towards the coast. Then an order came that they were to move rapidly a few miles to the south and turn to face the enemy advancing to Ypres along the Menin Road. A battalion of the South Wales Borderers had slowed the German advance and this was the chance to stop it. The Worcesters left behind their packs and moved swiftly accross the ploughed fields to their new position. They halted, lined up two deep across the road fixed bayonets and in a magnificent display of Worcester cussedness, charged.  All the frustrations and anger of weeks of retreat was vented on the Germans, who fell back and retreated as the foul mouthed fury of the Worcesters wreaked terrible slaughter in the German ranks. 

The fighting was quickly over, the Germans had fallen back and the men of Wales and Herefordshire greeted the Worcesters with cries of "what kept you?". And together they took up defensive positions in the grounds of Gheluvelt Chateau. The Germans had been stopped and the Kaiser did not have his dinner in Ypres that evening as his Generals had promised him he would.

The First Battle of Ypres, as it came to be known, went on for days, until soldiers of both armies started to dig trenches. These trenches would be occupied for four more years as the Great War developed into the bloody stalemate of our collective memory. Ypres never fell to the Germans, though the little village of Gheluvelt did and it remained behind the German lines until the end of the war. 

After the war, the City of Worcester decided to dedicate the little park in the North of the city to the memory of the Fallen of the Worcestershire regiment. It was to be a place of peace and contemplation, but also a place for children to play and enjoy. The little houses were built for veterans and these are occupied by men from later conflicts to this day. But over the years the meaning of the name of the park was all but forgotten. Then a new War Memorial was built in a conspicuous corner of the Park. This stands in stark contrast to the peaceful idyll originally created for the Park. But it has served to remind people of the horrors of war and has  become a focus of the City's Remembrance each year on the anniversary of the battle.  


This year will see the centenary of the battle. Of course all who fought in the Great War have passed on. But I felt something special should be done to commemorate and remember the Worcesters and their finest hour. 

So two Morgans, built in that Malvern factory that is also celebrating it's centenary this year, are going to drive from Gheluvelt Park to Gheluvelt itself, arriving 100 years to the minute after the Worcesters were asked, "What kept you?". (The cars themselves would not have been thought too unusual by those soldiers all those years ago. They are fine examples of that Worcestershire cussedness. Why change the basic design of a car if it works in the first place?). We will lay wreathes from the Regiment, Morgan Motors and other County organisations that existed 100 years ago. Then we will do what the Kaiser failed to do, have dinner in Ypres.  But only after commemorating a Memorial Plaque to St George's Church on behalf of the King's School Worcester and attending the playing of Last Post at the  Menin Gate. 
 
We will return the next day. Our journey will take in a family grave and it is hoped that we will bring a sandbag of soil back from the grounds of the chateau to be scattered in the park.

Sunday 14 September 2014

There and back again (nearly) - Molly's Hebridean Adventure Day 14

Another short blog as most of the day was driving today. Not too many photos either because I was pushed for time and just wanted to enjoy the drive rather than stopping loads of times - the views were stunning and my photos probably wouldn't have done them justice anyway.

I had a nice walk along the river by the Invergarry Castle Hotel before breakfast, including the ruin of Glengarry Castle.






Then I set off for my drive to Duns.

Although overcast, I managed all 220 miles with the roof down, so still only the one wet Tuesday during the trip when the roof was up. It was a long way but what a cracking drive! The first part on the A82 was along the banks of Loch Lochy which is in the Great Glen of which Loch Ness forms part.

Then onto the A86 and the A889 which took me through the Cairngorm National Park. It was then the A9 next down to Perth, passing by Pitlochry. To avoid too much motorway driving, I headed over to Gleneagles (with much Ryder Cup signage ready for next week) and picked up the A823 which was a nice driving road. The Bentley Owners Club obviously think so too as about 25 old Bentleys were going the opposite way to me with much enthusiastic waving as we passed.



I then picked up on the motorway and the Edinburgh bypass, then some nice roads through the Borders to take me to the small town of Duns.

The Jim Clark Room in Duns is a very understated and dignified memorial to a shy man who many believe (me included) was the greatest racing driving there has ever been. Equally adept at driving a Lotus Cortina on 3 wheels, or a single seater Grand Prix car, he had an amazing record of 25 GP wins from 72 starts. He won Two world championships and an Indy 500 but it was all cut tragically short  in a wet Formula 2 race at Hockenheim on 7th April 1968. He was a Borders farmer who didn't like the limelight and was famously indecisive, until he stepped into a racing car.



I saw him win the Britsh Grand Prix at Silverstone in 1967 as a 7 year old. I remember very clearly hearing the news that he had been killed the following year.

The "room" is actually two rooms; one with loads of his trophies, memorabilia and history, the other just with some stunning photographs and a brilliant video running.



I went from Duns onto Chirnside to the churchyard where he is buried and was close to the family farm.



I was really pleased to have added this extra journey and night to my plan, Jim Clark has been my hero for 50 years and the visits meant a lot to me.

My resting place for the night, the Allanton Inn, is only a mile from Chirnside. According to the curator at the museum, this was Jim's local as well, which I didn't know when I booked it.

A very moving day - and a great way to finish an extraordinary couple of weeks. I'm looking forward to seeing my old chum Nigel for coffee on the way home tomorrow, and can't wait to see the loonies at Goose Farm sometime late in the day after a long drive to see if the Bribery Act needs to be invoked when the presents come out.

Saturday 13 September 2014

There and back again (hopefully) - Molly's Hebridean Adventure Day 13

I've given up waiting for my photos to upload this evening so I'm afraid this is a photo-less blog.

A pretty brief blog today because most of it was travelling. Had a lovely breakfast at Solas Guest House, it helps that Iain is an ex butcher and makes the sausages himself. He and Karen were charming hosts and it was a great place to stay.

I drove down to Tarbert with the weather being splendid and sunny yet again so roof down all day. I made good time so I carried on and briefly crossed the bridge onto Scalpay so I had been on another island. Back at the ferry terminal the queues were quite big very early on, this was a packed ferry. Whilst I was having coffee waiting, I met one of the nice couples who I have bumped into a few times last time at Polochar. We had a nice chat during which they asked what I did for a living. This had been the subject of some discussion apparently and they had guessed a micro surgeon - I have no idea why, nor indeed what a micro surgeon is!

The crossing to Uig was like a duck pond, so calm. With the weather so glorious, I sat outside all the way and we were treated to some dolphins not far off Skye.

Once on Skye, I drove around the northern end of the island to start with. After 2 weeks of it, I think I am a pretty hardened pro at single track with passing places. I have to say the level of competence, and the ability/willingness to give a good hearty and friendly wave, whether or not you stopped, seems to have been left on the Outer Hebrides.

Skye was as I remember, very beautiful with the Cullins looking hugely impressive and menacing. However, the level of tourist traffic, with every layby full of visitors put me off stopping at a few places. I guess I have been spoilt by 2 weeks of remote Outer Hebrides but Skye felt a bit mainstream and cluttered by comparison.

Over the Skye Bridge, it was them a lovely drive down the A 87 past Loch Shiel and Loch Garry to the Glengarry Hotel. I've got a lovely room. Really looking forward to my visit to the Jim Clark Room in Duns tomorrow.

Friday 12 September 2014

There and back again (hopefully) - Molly's Hebridean Adventure Day 12

I left the Rodel Hotel this morning after 3 nights there. I really enjoyed my stay and thoroughly recommend it. Donnie MacDonald, the proprietor with his wife Dena, make you feel very welcome. Donnie is very knowledgeable about the area and its history, and is a great host. It really did feel like home from home. A very personal service. The hotel's staff wee very good as well, very engaging and interested in their guests.

I travelled up through Tarbert, through Harris and into the Isle of Lewis today. Actually, Harris and Lewis are the same island as they are connected by land mass but hey ho.

I drove to Uig in the North West of Lewis which was quite a trek. This is the area in which the Lewis Chessmen were found, it is meant to have an amazing beach and it featured in Peter May's books. It took quite a while to get there with a variety of changing landscapes and scenery on the way. I visited the wooden carving replica of one of the chessmen (you've got to say that Peter Firmin seeming to get things pretty spot on in Noggin the Nog if these chessmen are anything to go by). There isn't really very much on site to show where the chessmen were found or anything which is a pity I think. I also think it is a pity that a few are in an Edinburgh Museum and more in London. They should be in a purpose built centre in the Western Isles.




The beach at Uig was lovely, and it was a nice day again. However, after two weeks of seeing stunning beaches, one tends to get a bit blasé about them - oh really, another stunning beach?



From Uig I started to drive up the western coast of Lewis and called in at the various historic sites and visitor centres. The first of these was the standing stones at Callanish. I did enjoy seeing these. The landscape is so primeval that one can easily imagine the men and women who were responsible for creating the standing stones in that landscape.










This part of Lewis, unlike anywhere else I have been in the last 12 days, felt quite "trippy", with several coaches doing the rounds. An outcome of this is that the sites, which are very interesting and important, tended to get overshadowed by my annoyance with tourists (of which I am clearly not one).

I called on at the Blackhouse village and the Blackhouse museum, which both gave me the same feeling. I then drove up to the Port of Ness, just because I wanted to have been to the far northern end of the archipelago. The road north follows some pretty dull countryside, very flat and featureless boggy moorland.






Not only was the landscape pretty dull. Generally, the housing stock on the islands is fairly
horrible. A lot of very modest bungalows and small houses with grey peddle dash and nothing much happening. I noticed that there must be some architects doing some work in Harris, because that island had some interesting new builds including the Rock house and the hobbit house close to the Harris Golf Course http://www.borvelodge.com/room/the-rock-house/

In the north west of Lewis, there were even more abandoned houses and crofts and some really really nasty houses. Together with a featureless uninteresting landscape, the journey up to Port of Ness was not an exciting or attractive one.



I then drove to my B & B for the night at Melbost, near Stornaway. (Solas Guest House). The B & B is a lovely place, with Karen and Iain Moir being excellent welcoming hosts. As Iain is an ex butcher, who makes his own sausages, I am looking forward to breakfast!        





Thursday 11 September 2014


There and back again (hopefully) - Molly's Hebridean Adventure Day 11

Before breakfast today I walked round to the beautiful St Clement's Church which is one of the most historic in Scotland and only 1/4 mile from the Rodel Hotel. There are lovely stone carvings, particularly the Clan carvings on the four stones.

One of the most imposing gravestones in the Churchyard is for Sir Norman MacLeod who caught for King Charles in, you guessed it, the Battle of Worcester in 1651.






It was another beautiful day, with sunshine all day. After breakfast I drove to Scarista and played 18 holes at the Isle of Harris Golf Club. It was just me and the green keeper to start with and he was really helpful explaining the layout of the course and finding me some midge repellent as they were pretty active this morning. Payment for the round was in the honesty box as usual and the small clubhouse was open but no one there other than me and green keeper.

The Ryder Cup had been at the club on Monday as part of its Scottish tour. This is a pretty popular course with the big boys - Nick Faldo said it is one of the most beautiful courses he knows.

I loved my round, helped by playing 3 under my handicap but it is a lovely little course. As ever in Scotland, things are fairly relaxed. To the extent that the ladies in from of me on the second 9 had their dog with them!












I drove next to Luskentrye beach and had a walk for a couple of hours. You begin to get a bit blasé about amazing looking beaches up here but this was right up there with the best. It looks out onto the island of Taransay which is where Ben Fogle and his chums were castaway by the BBC a few years ago.











I then drove to the start of Glen Meavaig and walked the track to the eagle viewing hide. Unfortunately I did not see any eagles, but nor had anyone else today either. Met a couple of ladies from Llandrindod Wells on the track - they knew Uncle John's garage, small world! 





The Isle of Harris has the most amazing landscape, semi buried huge bolders and rocks everywhere it looks like a moonscape.

I then drove back to the hotel but the exciting route down the tiny road down the east side of South Harris. You really have to concentrate on these rounds. Most is very narrow single track, and when you come over the brow of a hill you have no idea where you are going next. At times, the road is just wide enough for the car with a big drop, or rocks, or a loch either side. I keep meeting people who have noticed Molly over the last 10 days and want to stop for a chat. Well Kate, it would be rude not to oblige!

Back to the hotel for a lovely dinner of fresh mackerel which they caught this morning. Off to Lewis tomorrow.