The "mode" of transportation in the farmlands on the road to Dorjan, Greece.
I am in the backseat of a VW Golf; part of a quartet en route to the British WWI cemetery located in Dorjan, Greece. It is the first really "perfect" day weather wise in Macedonia; not too warm, a few clouds and not too hot. I am with Laurence (driver, high fear factor with a guy used to driving on the "other" side of the road); Stephen (navigator and the man behind this visit) and Essie. On the way down, we stopped at the Bovin Winery in Negotino so I could pick up the 2012 Sauvignon; we score the wine and are back on the road within fifteen (15) minutes.
An alternate form of transportation passes by while Stephen picks a couple of poppies from the roadside.
After picking the poppies, Stephen explains the origination (just like the poem, "In Flanders Fields") of the United Kingdom placing poppies on, around and near the graves of those killed in action in service to their country; especially during Remembrance Day celebrations in the Commonwealth Nations. So in the spirit of the moment, I offered up my bottle of water to keep the poppies fresh.
These brilliant red poppies grow wild along the road and in the fields.
Laurence had provided me with two very impressive links to the Franco-British Salonika Force; detailing the arrival in October 1915 in Thessaloniki to the brutal battle for Dorjan; and the massive losses sustained by the British Divisions during the assault on "Pip Ridge" (manned by the Bulgarians in heavily fortified positions) from September 18-19, 1918 (WWI ended on September 30, 1918). For historical background see: http://www.1914-1918.net/
The entrance to the British Military Cemetery in Dorjan, Greece.
The gated entrance to the British Memorial Cemetery protects all who have been laid to rest with their comrades in arms. The cemetery is immaculate; the grass well trimmed, the headstones free from weeds and anything that would disturb this pristine resting place. Laurence informs me that the British have in place an office that oversees the care and upkeep of British Memorial Cemeteries throughout the world; including a facility that repairs/replaces on an annual basis(note: with the 100 year anniversary of the commencement of WWI [1914], the British Government will place greater emphasis on care and upkeep [hard to imagine what more needs to be done] on the Memorial Cemeteries to coincide with the Armistice of 1918; so until 2018).
Looking straight up the middle of the cemetery.
We all follow Stephen to the gravestone of his wife's great-uncle; Stephen produces a cross and asks us all to bear witness; we sign the back and he places the cross and the poppies at the base of the stone bearing the name Private A. Lowry, Royal Scots Fusiliers, 19th September 1918. It is an amazing gesture; honorable too on the part of Stephen and his family; a silent pause and we turn and leave Stephen in peace.
Stephen asks me to assist him in taking photographs of all of the headstones for the British Office dealing with the Memorial Cemeteries. He explained that a data base is in place and any additions to bolster the information contained will help families researching their relatives; it is expected to increase with the upcoming 100 Year Celebration. Laurence and Essie retire to the gate and wait while Stephen and I proceed to photograph each and every headstone in the cemetery. I take photographs of British soldiers of all ranks and assignment/RAF/Chaplain; Catholic; Protestant; Jewish; Greek Orthodox; Hindu and Muslim; and many "Known Only Unto God". The British military did not wear "dogtags"/identification during WWI; most of the time the dead were identified by their personal identification or personal effects.
The last few rows to be photographed.
We pile back into the Golf and head for the Dorjan Memorial on top of the hill overlooking the cemetery; we stop first at the Greek Memorial Cemetery, which is sadly in very unkempt condition and some vandalism to the site. It is a short stop and back to the car; suddenly we have visitors; a 4-wheel Jeep Cherokee bearing the markings of the Greek Border Police approaches us; stops and exiting the vehicle are two Border Police Officers. I notice Essie move away from me as the officers walk towards our vehicle; the first words are, "What are you doing here?"; Stephen and Laurence start to explain our visit to the British Memorial Cemetery and that we are taking photographs; planning to finish at the top at the large memorial.
The Border Police going over my passport.
Now bear in mind we are all "mature" men who have considerable policing experience and anticipate the next question, "Passports"; up to this point all is well; one noticeable difference three
red passports and one blue one; next question, "Who is the American?"; and like three marionettes, the boys all turn and point to me! Not looking good for me; a few more questions and then the boys in blue retire to the hood of their car and fill out a report(most likely a contact report; a lot of cross border smuggling occurs in this area); we get our passports returned and directions to the large WWI memorial. A fair and reasonable check by the Border Police; gotta talk to the Irish about giving up the American so quickly!
On each side of the smaller monuments is a "roll-call" of all of fallen.
The strategic value of the hill is apparent once we reach the top; it commands a view of the valley below, all the way to Lake Dorjan.
The view looking North towards Macedonia.
The memorial ground is covered in wildflowers; a beautiful 360 view; free from vandalism and well maintained. To the Southwest is a wind farm; directly East open and freshly plowed fields; the lake and to the West more rolling small mountains.
A small grouping of "baby iris" adjacent to the memorial.
Walking the perimeter of the WWI Memorial for the Dorjan; it is not hard to imagine how difficult it had to have been for any force trying to scale the slopes of this small mountain; the angle of the slope prohibits any natural cover and an open lane for firing from above. The assault on "Pip Ridge" served to channel the British soldiers into a "kill zone"; and as such the results were horrific for the British.
The Obelisk.
I must admit that my knowledge about the Balkan Campaigns during WWI is seriously lacking; a whole front (5 years of fighting and dying) in the war mainly ignored in World History books during my time in school. It has been a somber day at times; humorous at other times; very poignant moments; thought provoking scenery and stimulating conversation; it is time for a drink to toast our adventures.
We are heading towards Strumitca to meet a former colleague of the boys who is now back home after working with them in Skopje. Stephen points out a stork nest atop a telephone pole in the village just before the border; I get Laurence to stop and take a picture; never seen anything like this before in Europe, although I had people talk about stork nests in the weirdest places.
I wonder if cable comes with this arrangement?
Strumitca is located in Southeastern Macedonia; a fairly prosperous agricultural community. Along the way, we pass the winery in Valandovo (put it on my list); and then settle in for a long and slow climb over the mountains as a huge semi-truck (in first gear) is hauling three massive pieces of marble suddenly appears around a corner directly in front of our car. Trust me, climbing a mountain with four, again mature males does not make passing an easy task to accomplish. Finally, the big old truck pulls over and we gradually accelerate around it.
Looking down on the central plaza of Strumitsa.
We get to Strumitca without any problems; a quick call to Christina and we are set for lunch at a restaurant overlooking the city. However, someone forgot to tell the owner, so after a nice hike to the restaurant, Christina calls her brother and secures us a table at local favorite (this is good, always the best food at these places); back down the hill through an area under renovation.
A fixer-upper in Strumitca.
We are welcomed to the restaurant like lost friends; the food is amazing from the salads to the incredibly large meat platters; fortunately the beer is very cold and I have recovered from the "mountain climbing" before we set off to explore Strumitca.
Walking to the park in Strumitca.
Several years ago, the city-fathers of Strumitca decided to move the main arterial underground and develop the area into a huge plaza with promenades that bisect the center of the city. Very walkable; very clean; wide and lots to offer including many pieces of public art.
My interpretation centered around pain, loss, maybe futility.
The walkway leads to a sports facility and a large park with trees and restaurants. A small pond with the ugliest ducks I have ever seen and a chance to photograph a couple of old friends.
Christina and Laurence.
On the walk back we stop for coffee and tea; a moment to thank Christina for guiding us around Strumitca and to receive home brewed wine and Raki from her brother. After goodbyes we hit the road and quite literally must travel cross-country (thankfully a car load of boys from Veles stopped and told us to follow them; we definitely did not pack enough food to have gone it alone) due to bridge closure near Negotino where we had planned to rejoin the highway to Skopje. Back on the highway and zooming towards Skopje and a good nights sleep.
You're welcome to visit us again anytime..
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