Marville, a Cold War Baby Blues - Part Two

"Two World Wars left Europe with a scattering of well tended war cemeteries," the Lady of the Cemetery said. "The Cold War however, sprinkled the European countryside with tombstones of Canadian Forces personnel and their families..."

According to the Canadian Department of National Defence, more than 1,370 Canadians were buried in Europe during the Cold War. "But many graves were lost," the old lady said. "In Canada graves are kept in perpetuity, you know. But in Europe a grave is usually leased for a period of 20 to 25 years, after which the headstone is removed and the grave is used again."

As the Canadian Forces prepared to leave Europe, the National Defence Headquarters became aware of this issue. People had relatives buried there, but no grave could be found. One month a Canadian had been buried in a military cemetery, the other in a civilian.

"Plots in the children's section already expired after 5 to 20 years," the old lady said. "And they could not be renewed, you know."

In April 2002 the Department of National Defence launched a website which made it possible to search easily for names in an alphabetical listing. National Defence also went into negotiations to renew the leases and protect the graves.

"It turned out that the graves of serving members were by far the smaller number," the Lady of the Cemetery said. "Many of them were newborn babies, you see? And that's why I got the Cold War Baby Blues, mister."

For the graves that were lost, a memorial cairn was raised in the cemetery where once the grave was, with the names of the Canadians buried here.

Many of them simply had "baby" in front of the surnames.

"See for instance Marville, France," the Lady of the Cemetery said. "Cozy little village it was."

Read Also: Marville, a Cold War Baby Blues - Part One

(To Be Continued!)

Tombstone Tales: Something Terrible Might Happen

Central Graveyard Vienna / onkel_wart

How beautiful she was –

like a woman rising

from a tomb, like

a dead woman looking

for me.

Like a little princess

with tiny white doves

for feet – one might fancy

she was dancing –

and wearing a yellow veil.

I never had seen her that pale,

as if she was a shadow

of  the shadow

of a white rose in a mirror

of silver.

I couldn’t keep from looking at her

while I knew it was dangerous

to look at dead people

in such way:

Something terrible might happen.

This poem was inspired by the first scene of Salome, the play written by Oscar Wilde.
More Tombstone Tales by Patrick Bernauw: Ghost Writings.

Tombstone Tales: And Night Falls Infinitely...

My oldest memory of the other

world where I lived

another life is a summer

evening and I am

7




and my mother

is a black widow sitting

by my bed in the last light

of a day that only brought

darkness and death and night

falls through the window

of the silent attic





when she sings,

no when she sighs slow

and sadly this madly

talking blues:





"Only what dies,

shall live, my son.

So I have to release

the immortal soul

from the body

that is a tomb."




And night falls

infinitely and forever

I will be

8

Tombstone Tales: Highgate Gothic

Listen to the Music while you read:
Variations on a French Cancan
Very Slow and Spooky French Cancan
Orchestral Music Made by Spirits

Twelve o'clock and where once

the groom and his bride 
were murdered,

it's pitch black now and every

room is deserted.

Except the one where

a grand piano is playing

Variations on a French Cancan

- do you see the pianist?

Night after night

caught in a web of white light

he's playing the same

Very Slow & Spooky Tune

over and over again

- do you see him?

The keys are touched

by invisible fingers when

a ghostly band joins in on this

Orchestral Music Made by Spirits

and disappears

into the fog,

forever

until the groom and his bride

return to Highgate and the clock

strikes midnight again.

Tombstone Tales: Tomb of Mozart

Tomb of Mozart, Main Cemetery Vienna, Austria 

by S. Ruehlow, on Flickr

The clock ticks away the hour

of midnight and in a web

of white light a piano

is playing a little

night music:

"Allegro!"

But where is the pianist?

Look at the keys, they go up

and down as the Rondo dances

through the deserted street

with this Lord and his Lady

dressed only

in her jewellery.

And the clock ticks away

the hour of midnight

when they jump

in the canal

as they always did

and always do

and forever

will.

More TombStone Tales!

Tombstone Tales: Georges Rodenbach, author of Bruges-la-Morte, at Père Lachaise

The poem was inspired by the short poetic novel Bruges-la Morte, by Georges Rodenbach. Listen while you read to this Very Slow and Spooky French Cancan...

Grave of George Rodenbach, Père-Lachaise (photo by Gus Hertzog)

Only the dead are dancing

through the living

rooms


when evening is falling

and grey people are put to rest

in peace


in houses
 

and shallow shadows
 

of past centuries
 

wondering stoned
 

as a statue.









 

Listen well

and hear a voice

whispering behind a hatch

about a past

tense not fully

completed

Paranormal Activity Near a Cemetery Without History

You will hear my heavy steps

like boots, slow and determined

on the second floor and

you will not see me.

You will see

my tall shape in the bedroom

of your children: featureless

face in the dark

Dracula cape screaming and

you will not hear me.

Stay awake at night

after the lights go out

for no more than ten minutes

and you will hear me

moving, picking up things and softly

putting them down.

Take a shower,

I’ll scratch your back

and leave tiny scars

like claws and you

will not see me.

You will hear me

whisper in your ear:

“Melanie…”

You will hear me sigh:

“Hi!”

This Tombstone Tale was inspired by the article "Help! Our House Is Haunted"

Tombstone Tales: The Kiss of Death / Forever Breathless

 

J. Barba's statue dominates a tomb in the Old Graveyard of Poblenou (Barcelona).

Photo by EudaldCJ, on Flickr

A black widow came to me


and said:






"As in ancient times,


crown thy head


with thorns and celebrate


this celestial body of mine


as I kiss you


to your Death.







Drink my blood-red wine



and enjoy the joy of my flesh


and the fresh flowers blooming


in my country flooding


of milk






and honey, run with me



through the woods and love me


forever






breathless."

Copyright by Patrick Bernauw, Memoirs of Lord Halloween.


 

Tombstone Tales: John Condon, Age 14

Private John Condon, killed in action, 14 years old.

Tyne Cot Cemetery, Flanders (Belgium).

Photo by Bryan A, on Flickr.

JOHN CONDON, AGE 14

He fell in a field

of honour and under a leaden sky

the earth coloured

red.



May nineteen fifteen and more

he has never seen.


There was a leaf

torn from the calender

and a girl

of grief.


And on his lips was the name

of his mother, his brother
 

who fell in another


Flanders' Field.

The grave of "John Condon, age 14", the youngest soldier to be killed in the Great War, is reputedly the most visited grave of the entire Western Front. According to recent investigations however, John Condon was not age 14, but age 18 when he was killed in May 1915, after only two months on the Western Front,  in a German gas attack at a place called "Mouse Trap", near Ypres. The  two unknown British soldiers exhumed in 1923, were misidentified as the privates Condon and Carthy. The true identity of the man buried in  the grave marked "John Condon" is probably rifleman Patrick Fitzsimmons of the 2nd Royal Irish Rifles.

Copyright by Patrick Bernauw / Tombstone Tales.