At the Menin Gate by Jon Sandison Each November when Remembrance day comes around, standing at the Shetland War Memorial listening to a lone piper, thoughts flood back from a twilight autumn over two years ago. In the Belgian city of Ypres on Monday 10 October 2011, it was just another night at the Menin Gate; a chance for people to visit, and to pay their respects. For us, it was to be a time we would not forget, as is the case for anyone who experiences this iconic memorial’s Last Post Ceremony for the first time. The crisp but bright October day quickly changed from dusk to darkness. Arriving in Belgium in the late afternoon, with just enough time to have a quick change in our hotel, we headed into Ypres for a meal. We settled for a nice relaxing dinner with stunning Belgian cuisine and wine at the Ocean Villas Restaurant, just along from the rebuilt Cloth Hall. Little did we know then the impact of what we were to experience. Our tour was a rush from start to finish. So much to cram into such a short space of time. We always knew that would be the case. Yet we had more time than many of the men who were lost in and around Ypres. A trip such as this continually reminds one of a sense of perspective, and thankfulness. One hundred years ago Ypres had been a beautiful place within Flanders. It was a Medieval city, previously based around cloth, but then reliant upon the farming of hops and corn. By the end of the Great war, its buildings were in ruins, and the surrounding landscape became a mirror of the mud, quagmire and slaughter associated with the Western Front. The town was stuck in the middle of what was known as the Ypres Salient, a British penetration into the German line. By 1918, all that was left was the Cloth Tower in its centre, its poignant remnants jutting into the sky. Out of the million men who lost their lives during the Great War, a quarter of a million died in the few miles around Ypres. Beneath the farmland, woods and small villages there lies the bodies of thousands who died and often drowned within the mud. As we walked through its quaint streets, and looked up at beautiful buildings, it was hard to believe how everything had been rebuilt, street by street. We were fascinated by its beautiful friendly and inviting town square, with people meandering about. There was an overwhelming sense of peace. Ypres’ beauty has returned. On our visit to the Menin Gate, we did not intend to lay a wreath. We were going to do something private when the ceremony finished. Our tour guide persuaded us otherwise to lay a wreath during the official ceremony. As we strolled from the restaurant, and picked up our wreath from the tour guides car, we quickly jotted down a note on it: In Memory of all the young Shetlanders who fell on the Western Front, 1914-1918. From the Shetland People. In our rush, it is what naturally came to mind. It seemed appropriate. Expecting a few people there to watch the ceremony, we walked up to the Gate. To our astonishment, mass crowds became closer; a pilgrimage of humanity, all gathered together to pay their respects for the fallen of the Great War. The peaks of the Ypres architecture were very clear against the now silhouetted autumn evening sky. Two veterans, with their grey smart suit jackets, dark berries, and medals, added further gravitas and sobriety to the night. Around them, children, locals and visitors alike, watched this ceremony that is repeated, like clockwork, each night of the year. Stunned by the staggering size of the Menin Gate in front of us, and the crowd there waiting, we became fully aware why so many speak about this Menin Gate Ceremony. Our own visit was less than a month away from Remembrance Day. Walking amongst the throng of people at this magnificent structure, our eyes became fixated upon its beautiful curved opening, with its glaring white wall lit up by flood lights against the now dark sky. The awe was soon dispelled with the realisation that its walls were covered with endless names, carefully etched, on both sides with huge back panels. A wall also with Shetlanders on it; somewhere amongst the thousands. Our tour guide explained where to stand in order to take part in the ceremony. Across the road to the other side, it was impossible not to constantly look up with the endless sea of names looking down upon us. We were far from home, yet, we were doing something, in our own small way, for Shetland. Next to us, also waiting to lay a wreath, were secondary school pupils from Kemnay Academy and Oldmacher Academy in Aberdeenshire, along with their teacher, in highland regalia. The last thing we expected to see that night was a kilt. But, it was a welcome sight. We thought about all the Shetlanders who had arrived on this ground in the Ypres Salient during the Great War, and further south on the Somme. With so many names inscribed on stone panels, the scale of the conflict was apparent. The school pupils laid their wreath. The four of us walked across the street, people surrounding us on all sides, and then slowly up the inclining stairs. Carefully and solemnly we placed this symbolic bright red piece upon the stand that was there, with the others. We then marched back to our starting position. The haunting Last Post sounded and echoed around the Menin Gate, sending a shiver down our spines. Members of the local Fire Brigade play the Last Post each evening. During World War Two, the 8.00 pm ceremony ceased, although it was carried on at Brookwood Cemetery in Surrey. It is said that some of the buglers braved severe punishment they attempted to play the Last Post at this time. On one occasion, a bugler was surreptitiously playing the tune when suddenly a squad of German soldiers marched through the Gate. Fearing the worst, the bugler was not too sure what to do. He decided to keep playing. To his astonishment, the German soldiers stopped and stood to attention – moving on only when the bugler had stopped. It was played again the very day the town of Ypres was liberated by Polish troops on 6 September 1944 and was sounded again that very evening. The Gate itself is located at the eastern exit of the town and marks the starting point for one of the main roads out of town that led Allied soldiers to the front line of the Ypres Salient. It was designed by Sir Reginald Blomfield, built by the British Government, and was unveiled on 24 July 1927. On its walls are over 54,000 names. Its inscription reads: Here are recorded that names of men and officers who fell in the Ypres Salient but to whom the fortune of war denied the known and the honoured burial given to their comrades in death One of a few Shetland names on the Menin Gate is Thomas Hardy, Service No 10017, 2nd Gordons, aged 25. Thomas took part in the First Battle of Ypres. Just over three years before the Menin Gate was finished, the Shetland War Memorial was unveiled by his mother, Jessie Hardy, from Wadbister, Girlsta. Thomas was one of three brothers. That day in Lerwick, 6 January 1924, was recorded in The Shetland Times: The crowd at the Memorial must have numbered at least 3,000 people when Mr J W Robertson (former Convener of the County) led forward Mrs Thomas Hardy, Wadbister, Girlsta, to perform the actual unveiling. Mrs Hardy was accompanied by Mr Hardy. They lost three sons in the war, one of whom was the first Shetlander to lay down his life in the Great War. The pedestal of the Monument had been draped with bunting, lent and arranged by the staff at Fort Charlotte. Mrs Hardy, in the midst of a solemn silence, pulled down the flags, and Shetland's War Memorial stood unveiled. When war broke out in August 1914, the 1st and 2nd Gordons Battalion were regular army. They formed part of the British Expeditionary Force which was small in comparison to the other armies of Europe. The 1st Battalion suffered many losses by the end of August. The 2nd Battalion landed at Zeebrugge from Egypt on 7 Oct 1914. Thomas had entered the field here with them. He would leave it again just under a month later, killed on 1 November. By October 1914, 99 years ago, winter and bad weather had brought things to a standstill, and both sides had started to dig in and construct trenches. These would become all too common for the remainder of the war. In the First Battle of Ypres during October, the 2nd Battalion, part of the 7th Division, were in action on the Menin Road on the 23rd. Six days later a massive attack was launched by the Germans which resulted in a day long battle. Then, the Battalion Thomas was part of launched a number of strong counter-attacks but had to fall back on the Gheluvelt area. On the day that Thomas was killed, the German 36th Division had launched a further determined attack. By this time the 7th Division only had 940 men left from what had been a division of around 4,000 men when it landed in France.