July 7: the adventure day and the wine capitals

Route: Massiges -> Somme-Tourbe -> Mourmelon-le-Grand -> Mourmelon-le-Petit -> Sept-Saux -> Prunay -> location X -> Verzy -> Verzenay -> Mailly-Champagne

Part 1: historical part

Today I followed the track that Benjamin and his friends made for me and it took me through a part of the Battle of Champagne. Going to Somme-Tourbe I passed Le Pont du Marson, Minaucourt-le-Mesnil-les-Hurlus, Wargemoulin-Hurlus, Lavar-sur-Tourbe and Saint-Jean-sur-Tourbe.

The area was the field for the Battle of Champagne (September 25 - October 9, 1915). Therefore, the existence of Minaucourt village came to an end with the artillery fire and soldiers fighting nearby. The village was restored in 1922 - 1923. Currently, there are only 54 inhabitants (as of 2013) in the village (compared to 184 in 1911) of 23.04 km² size.

Three monuments for (from left to right) 134th, 10th and 24th Infantry Regiments

Close up to 10th Infantry Regiment monument

                                   

Le Pont du Marson - a big national cemetery located just after the small stream Ruisseau du Marson. It is a resting place for 21 319 fallen ones (9 096 have individual graves and 12 223 are situated in 6 ossuaries). Among them are 25 Serbs, 2 Czechs and one French solder from 1939 - 1945. All the others are from the Great war and brought here from nearby smaller cemeteries. The cemetery occupies area of 43 944 m².

In 1915 this site was a military cemetery established during the Battle of Champagne. Later, from 1922 to 1929. It is a part of 18 cemeteries (all together includes about 130 000 graves) forming a fan north of Chalons-en-Champagne.

In this cemetery now rests the remains of Alberd Darure. This French soldier died on the site of La Main de Massiges and was buried there. His remains were found during the restoration work in the trenches July 21, 2013. A member of 23rd Colonial Infantry Regiment, he was killed in February 7, 1915 after serving just 5 months in the trenches that were held by the French till September 1915. His remains were moved to Le Pont du Marson cemetery in February 7, 2014.

List of the fallen buried can be found here.

There were three (some distinguish four) battles of Champagne with the first one starting as early as December 20, 1914 and continuing until March 17, 1915. The second lasted from September 25 to October 6, 1915; the third (Battle of the Hills) was a part of Second Battle of the Aisne - April 17 - 20, 1917. And, if distinguishing, the fourth was a part of the Second Battle of the Marne.

The first battle of Champagne was the first major Allied attack against the Germans since the establishment of the trench war. French commander Joseph Joffre, who came back to serving after retirement once war broke, wanted to be done with the war as quickly as possible and therefore planned an attack along the frontline from Nieuport to Verdun. After minor attacks, heavy fighting occurred at Gvenchy, Perthes and Noyon. The French Fourth Army gained some ground, but the French numbers could not take German Third Army's trenches so easily, as they appeared superior and the easy and fast end to the war, the French was aiming for, failed. The fighting ground quickly became a sea of mud where the guns clogged with mud and therefore refused to fire; where trenches turned into small rivers due to heavy rainfall and the wounded, as well as the unlucky ones to place their foot in the wrong place, drowned. All this and the German counter-attacks resulted in Joffre calling off the attack.

It was the battle that confirmed the limited efficiency of cavalry in this war and the effectiveness of  machine guns. Both sides suffered around 90 000 casualties (although some sources name 45 000 German and 90 000 French casualties).

The battle of Champagne was also a service place for Roland Dorgeles. His service later inspired his most famous book "Les Croix de Bois" ("Wooden crosses"), which later won Prix Femina.

View of trenches in Champagne region (taken from www.firstworldwar.com)

This battle was not the first for me, so the imagine of drowning solders half stuck in mud, heavy ground flying after being lifted by a grenade or an artillery shell, soldiers, trying to get some rest in soaked trenches, was not the picture, which I have not seen (imagined) already. However, from their time scale, it was the battle that characterised the trench war - war of attrition and thousands of death for few meters of devastated land, which was lost again few days or months later...

Despite the loss general Joffre still believed that German lines could be broken by share infantry numbers... As the future will prove, this would not be so...

Just like in other regions, which suffered directly from the war, Champagne-Ardennes also has its own list of lost villages. Hurlus, Perthe-les-Hurlus, le Mesnil-les-Hurlus, Tahure, Ripont, two farms of Navarin and La Farme de Beauséjour - all fell victims to the war. Except from the church and the school, there was nothing left from Somme-Tourbe. Just like at Verdun and several other places, because of the unexploded shells, the area (larger than Paris) here was classified as "zone rouge" and was turned into military training ground (area on the West side of Massiges, Wargemoulin-Hurlus and East of Souain-Perthes-les-Hurlus)

Suippes ("Pax Lana et Aratro" - the "Peace through Wool and Plow" village) - a village of 42.25 square kilometres. Throughout its history, the village got destroyed numerous times by fire or by war and the archives of the village were lost during those. Currently the best source of history is a book by Augiste Denis.

At Suippes there is "Centre d'Interpr étation Marne 14-18" - a museum of 600 square meters area dedicated to the memory of the Great War. Although I must admit, that I have not visited it. Nevertheless, reading about it reminded me of the old "In Flanders Fields" museum. There are a lot of graphic information from the front, a lot of objects from all the armies that were found at the front lines. And it is interactive, which engages the visitor into the story even more. It also offers to each visitor the ability to follow one real person's (e.g. nurse, soldier) life, whist establishing even better human connection between the present and the past.

Numerous ammunition rounds were used in the battle around Suippes. Because of that, here, too, a large area was closed for public and turned into one of the largest military camps (13 500 ha). It is estimated that about 270 tons of chemical live munitions still lies in the ground with more than one third of all shells that were fired in the region still being buried in the ground.

For me, Chemin des Dames became a symbol of those French soldiers who were shot for example, even though most executions were carried out in the first year of war (1914 - 1915). The numbers of executed soldiers for disobedience, common crime and espionage vary from about 740 to 1009 based on different sources (e.g. here and here). Yet the episode, that inspired one of the most famous movies about the First World War "The Paths of Glory" by Stanley Kubrick, was executed in Suippes. Lois Girard, Louis Lefoulon, Theophile Maupas, Lucien Lechat - four corporals from the 336th Infantry Regiment were executed by French army for "insubordination in the presence of the enemy" in March 17, 1915. Seven days before, the Infantry Regiment was ordered to resume attack on German positions north from Souain village. Tired from unsuccessful attacks and not willing to step into certain death, as the miscalculated French artillery failed to target German positions, the troops refused to go "over the top". After that, a war council was held in Suippes and the selected four corporals were sentenced to death (two hours later, a clemency arrived stating that their sentence was changed to forced labour).

Yet the first execution for example was probably carried on Lucien Bersot. His story might be used as example of absurdity and idiocrisy that came "from above". Lucien Bersot was executed for example for failing to wear the pants given to him. In cold January, the 60th Infantry Regiment was battling at Soissons. Lucien Bersot was wearing white linen pants, which aren't suitable for cold. He asked for the woollen red ones, so the sergeant handed him ragged and stained with blood pants that were taken from a dead soldier. Bersot's refusal to put them on was seen as disobedience and he was sentenced 8 days in prison. This resulted in a small protest around the men. Bersot's comrades expressed their feelings of injustice bestowed upon Bersot so strongly, that colonel Auroux perceived it as mutiny. Wanting to enforce his power and iron discipline, he marked Bersot with insubordination in the presence of the enemy and sentenced to be executed on early morning of February 13, 1915...

Mourmelon-le-Grand - a village changed by Napoleon III when created Camp of Chalons - a military camp (although he used the military based established before (in 1792) ). The village is also decorated with "Croix de guerre 1914 - 1918" in 1920.
Between Mourmelon-le-Grand and Mourmelon-le-Petit lays French military cemeteries.

First bodies in this area were buried in 1915 during the Battle of Champagne. Later, in 1919 - 1923, bodies of soldiers from Mourmelon Prosnes, St. Hilaire-le-Grand municipalities were brought here. In total, 2 685 French soldiers in 41 ossuaries found a resting place in this cemetery.

(on another not related note, Mourmelon was involved in the "missing Mourmelon" accident during which 8 people (6 of them were soldiers from the near by military camp and one was a hitchhiker from Ireland) went missing or later were found dead... I learned about this while preparing this post and only then it hit me, that it was actually not that safe to walk or hitchhike as I felt that it was...)



Verzy is probably best known for wine and champagne (although Verzenay and Mailly-Champagne are even better known for this). This is a region of vast vineyards and hills. Ant the latter is why it became another important frontline point - the high ground. In 1914, September 13th, after the liberation of Reims, an observation post was set up in the highest point of Montagne de Reims and the Marne, It allowed the French to observe the German positions on the other side of the Vesle (Berru Mount and Mont Hayt). This observation post was commonly known by soldiers as Mount Sinai.

Just follow the signs

 Current view (on the right - the edge of the observation post)

This post was a part of observation network with other points being Verzanay Windmill and Mont Grippe in Villers-Marmery. There were in total three observation posts plus a commander bunker, all of which were connected by trenches (some remains of that can be seen on sight). Additionally, observation posts were connected by messengers, telephone lines and optical signals. As the war continued, additional structures were built as required by the situation (e.g. barracks for soldiers).
January 1922, Mont Sinai was named a historical monument.

Current view from observation post named "General Gouraud room"

Current view from observation post named "General Gouraud room"

Entrance. Careful not to bump head

Outside look of General Gouraud room

(I read in one source, that somehow the vineyards were spared and it's safe to assume that today they look like they did hundred years ago. Personally for me, it is a strange way to experience time travel)


Verzenay - an ancient village, which since the beginning (Roman rimes), was a village of vine. During the war, the beautiful (and, now, quite luxurious) Verzenay was partly destroyed (given its proximity to the front line, this is not surprisingly). The mill in Verzenay, which stands on Mont Boeuf, was built in 1818 and functioned as observation post during the Great war. Additionally, underground tunnels and concrete room were built. In 1917, the mill was visited by many Allied force leaders (Victor Emmanuel III, President Poincare, General Foyolle, etc.).

The mill of Verzenay

There was an agreement between the warring parties not to shell major state sites. However, a shell managed to find the mill and destroyed its transmission shaft.

In 1863 Boudeville family brought the mill. The last miller did not want it to continue working after his death, so he blocked the entire mechanism before selling it to Walbaum Goulden company in 1904. The restoration of the mill began in 1949 under the director of Heidsieck & Co, which owned the mill since 1923. The mill was sold again in 1973 to Maison Mumm, which turned it into a reception area for privileged guests interested in getting to know Champagne region and enjoy the view to the vineyards.

Mill today

I continued to walk to Mailly-Champagne - another small village known for its champagne. Just like Verzeney, the village is surrounded by vineyards and it's safe to assume that most of the 758 inhabitants work in the industry of vine and champagne making in one way or another. Archaeological findings show that the area was populated already in Gallic era. During "the war to end all wars", 42nd French infantry division fought the German forces north of Mailly-Champagne. The village was decorated with Croix de Guerre 1914-1918 in May 30th, 1921.

In the area, some villages existed before the Great war, yet they are no more. Nauroy - just 15 kilometres East of Reims, yet nowhere to be found in any current map. So is Tabure.

Findings at Tabure site (from http://reims1418.files.worldpress.com)

(here you can find a video of a air balloon flight above Champagne-Ardenne regions. The audio is in French)

Part 2: attack by Tabanidae family flies, storm long search for a sleeping place and city lights in the horizon

Just like every morning, I was looking forward to the day and felt very hopeful - this will be the first time, when everything will go according to plan - Verzy, Reims and night in Prouilly, because no way am I going to sleep in such a big town as Reims. At this point I still believed that the time will come when plans will start to work. I should have known better, of course, but it seems that I just cannot get rid of that childhood naivety...

I woke up and I heard footsteps next to tent: walking towards and then walking away. It was nearly eight. Benjamin came to give me some water and a fresh, nice baguette. Usually there is a distributor, that brings bakery products (and maybe some other things - don't know that) to smaller villages. The smell of fresh bread can only be compared to the smell of home: cosy, heart-warming, calming. It's makes you feel like you have all that you need - the bread and some water.

I tried to decline saying that I already got more than enough, but Benjamin was as generous as Santa Claus (how many times I have experienced Christmas - I have no idea, but I think at least once a day would not be far for truth).

On my way to Verzy, I passed Le Pont du Marson where I took the opportunity to soak my t-shit, shorts and cap into the cold water - everything to keep the heat out for as long as possible.

It was morning, there were not many cars. Despite that, I managed to hitchhike two of them and drive about 3 - 4 kilometres with very nice people, who saved me about an hour of time.

I had my breakfast at Somme-Tourbe. I usually can eat anything if I know I have to, but this was a bit too much. The thing was called "fish balls", but I could feel the bone fragments, the intestines... I tried to swallow it whole, but even then I still felt like throwing up. I knew that this was my food for the day. I managed to struggle half the can. I can't understand how would anyone bring can food to trips. They are so inefficient as can and the source the food is kept in takes up the weight but you can't really eat them. Not to mention the production... Maybe other companies are better at producing can food, but Latvian is definitely not.

I started to hitchhike right away after the village - it was a straight road to Reims, so definitely someone might drop me closer to Verzy. There were a lot of all kinds of cars passing me. To my surprise, a camper stopped. A lovely couple from Netherlands (Eric and I couldn't remember the name of the woman) on their 5 weeks holiday through France, Spain and Portugal. They actually were driving to Champagne, but decided to take the longer route to drive me to Mourmelon-le-Grand. I was shocked from all the kindness that hit me since the beginning of this trip.

After being able to get in the village in just few minutes, Mourmelon-le-Grand indeed seemed an never-ending tale. Although it had some charming details.

St. Lawrence church and the colourful benches

An abandoned place

The outskirts (or the beginning. Depending on point of view) of the village

The road to Mourmelon-le-Petit was perfect: tree avenue, the road wasn't big and cars were sparse. Just perfect. 

But nothing good can last long. Rain. I had my raincoat in my big brother, but I was too lazy to stop, and take it out. So I continued hoping, that it will stop or, at least, will not get worse.

It did. Slightly. I was a bit more than half way through by then. As the rain increased, I started to hitchhike again while walking. Took a while but a nice man stopped with a very loaded car. I managed to squeeze myself in the front seat with all my load on me. I had no idea where the man was going (he did tell me, I just didn't understand and had no clue where that place was). He took me to Mourmelon-le-Petit and showed the direction I needed to walk. A nice man and an amusing car.

As I walked, towards Prunay, the sky became darker, but the temperature did not drop by much. The air became heavy and smother-y. Minutes later a battalion of someone from Tabanidae family started shamelessly attack me. Even the bites to hands, neck, head and face, fingers and between them, legs, were not as annoying as them flying around my ears and getting caught in my hair. It was 3 kilometres of slow walk and heavy fighting. Their teeth and numbers against my brutal force fuelled by annoyance and loss of patience. Till this day, I cannot determinate who won...

The sky went darker, the wind started to pick a bit up, and the attacking army sounded a retreat. By that time I was finding my way through Thuisy and Wez, and continue to count all the cars that I met since I started at the drop-off.

The sky got even darker. The day turned into a developed evening. The wind increased and I was happy. (Why I have walked to Prunay, I have no idea. It was not the right direction to Verzy, but I did got lost more than once using my GPS...). With a smile on my face, I walked towards "the promised land". And then, luckily, it hit me not. A lightning stoke "somewhere over the" no-rainbow. I love lightnings. And storms, and other weather phenomenon. But walking on an open area with them dancing all around me was not the most comforting I have felt. Despite that, I managed to let a "WOW!!!!" filled with awe for each of them. And then I reached high voltage electricity wires... I saw how lightnings hit them more than once and I heard how the cutout turned off the power and seconds later renewed the flow. Both the view and the sound was mesmerizing. The day turning to night, the buzzing of flowing electric charge from one atom to the other, and "the God's forks" coming from the sky illuminating the sudden darkness... I felt like an overflowed with emotions observer in a Greek myth. Zeus in the middle of overthrowing Cronos...

I needed to pass those high voltage wires. I was half way through when one of the lightning hit right at the wire above me...
I did saw lightnings before. Some of them even eye's level when I climbed metal observation tower just to see them closer. But this was still something else...

Alert of the titan battle around me, I continued forward. I had a feeling that this was just a beginning and it would be better for me to reach that overbridge in front as soon as possible. But then the sky suddenly burst and it appeared that all Poseidon's ocean was falling to feed his thirsty mother Gaia. The purpose of putting a raincoat disappeared quickly and I tried to hitchhike the few cars that were driving on the road. All of them passed, but one stopped further and started to drive backwards towards me. I probably looked pitiable enough. The guy tried to say where he was going, I tried to say where I was going, but eventually I just jumped into his car hoping for a cover.

I had no idea where I was taken. All I could see is the growing kilometres on my GPS from Verzy. Oh well, I'll get to see more France and most probable some monuments for the dead too.
We passed few villages and it was just like I suspected - there was a monument in every of the places we passed. He let me out next to a roundabout, writing a closer rote to Belgium on a piece of paper. The storm had passed already and the land now was just freshly washed and smelled like new morning - renewed and with satisfied thirst.

I stood there surrounded by vast vineyards. I started to hitchhike and soon a man stopped. He didn't knew where Verzy was, I didn't knew where he was going. So I again jumped into the car. He used GPS and took me to Verzy. He only talked in French, so we had a very interesting conversation and a lot of laughing. Close to Verzy we started to pass sings pointing the direction to some kind of First World War camp, blockhouse, something else. We were going down the hill more and more until he dropped me of at the church. He turned around and drove back up the hill while I trail him sadly thinking about how I will climb up with all of my two brothers on my back...

I went into the forest, dropped my brothers under trees, took my camera and my sticks, and continued my way up the hill free-weight.

 Verzy view

 Verzy view on the way to the observation post

I flew up the hill. I met some cars and the walk was not the safest one can have: the vision for the drivers was often disturbed by vegetation and turns. All the roadside was overgrown with hazelnut tree. I stopped to pick pocketful of nuts, even though I knew they were not matured enough yet, but, hey, its food and nutrients!
I found the observation post and met a nice guy of another species.

It was still daylight when I was done with Verzy, but going to Reims, try to find a place for my tent there did not sound very appealing - too big of a city. So I decided to go to Verzenay - close to road to Reims and a new place to visit

The direction towards Beaumont-sur-Vesle

Some of these vineyards were just budding fruits, others were full of immature grapes

The road was just like Verzy: up-down-up-down-down-down, or just up-up-up-up. And some more up.

 It appears that I stumbled upon wine capital of France. Who knew

Down to Verzeny. All the roadside was covered with blackberries. Not very ripe, but still food and nutriens.

Welcome to Verzenay. And here is your first wine hotel

From the parking lot

Verzeny - a small up-down-up-down village where street names on guideposts are replaced with names of wine (champagne) houses. People seem happy here and very close even though one would anticipate high competitiveness. I had no idea where I was going - the streets were narrow and the houses blocked all the view for possible orientation on landmarks. So I just went with my guts: left here, right here, right, let's do straight here. On my way to yet another uphill, I saw a motorcycle traveller. He had the great BMW R 1200 with aluminium side boxes and, just as every motorcycle which seen the world, a lot of stickers. We exchanged few words. Motorcycles gives the same freedom as walking, just the speed is higher.

At the last house, which reminded a bit of Southern style architecture (something of Roman-Spanish style), I met a lovely woman. We started to talk, I asked if there is a water source at Mailly (just in case I ended up there), and she just filled my bottle. I jumped to drink it as if I had not had this life fluid for days. The lovely lady was just standing there with a big smile looking at the desperate gulping happening in front of her. I shamefully smiled afterwards. She just took the bottle again and filled it once more. Later, after I failed to understand what she was asking, the lady just order me to wait. She came back with a big and juicy nectarine. I could not help but to look at the nectarine as if it was ambrosia itself. The lovely lady apologized for not being able to give me anything more and I was standing there robbed from all my words - she didn't have to give me anything. The water was just enough and the godly nectar was such an unexpected and wonderful addition.

Way to the mill. Somewhere there you can see the road and a farm which one of the possible places to go to sleep. Time - 20:21:41 - need to set up that tent

Hey, you can see the way I walked. And the lighthouse I was first visiting

No straight and easy way. But an interesting feeling to be surrounded by grapes that will end up being shipped all around the world in a bottles with nice tags

I had to choose: stay at the mill, go to a farm next to the road, or walk to Mailly-Champagne and hope that I'll find a place to sleep there. Mailly seemed to be "just downhill". So I went there without having any slightest idea if I'll find a place to sleep

The light shining on Mailly-Champagne

Somewhere there outside the shot on the right is the mill. Further somewhere - Reims

"Welcome to Mailly Champagne"

Not sure, but I think this machine has something to do with champagne making process

The small village was just as tricky as Verzeny - no way to see the layout as the buildings or the hilly terrain blocked the possibility of deductive plan drawing. So I again used the "let's turn here" and "what's here..?" method. Eventually I saw church "somewhere out there" and decided to sleep near it. On my way I passed bed & breakfast, town hall with a balcony right in front of the entrance.

I walked uphill but the church wasn't getting any closer. It was possibly around half past ten. The wind was picking up, but I didn't feel it that in the narrow streets being surrounded by buildings. I dropped the plan to go to church and went to a plan "settle in the first suitable place". Anywhere on a green patch. I started to walk to the outskirts of the village. But didn't get there as well as I saw a patch of green space on a corner of the street next to two houses.
I threw away my boots - feet were suffocating there. I set up my tent with the wind picking up stronger. The sky went dark pretty fast. The big drops of rain started to fall as warning of a bigger event coming up. I started to look for the dust sheet I took for the tent as a rainproof cover. Took it out and... it's a raincoat. And a too small to cover the tent one too, not to mention that it has a hood (meaning - hole). Oh well. I plastered the hood and tied it to the tent. The wind was so big, that the raincoat transformed into a kite. This definitely will not work. So, I packed my things back while almost loosing the tent to the wind and went to look for a better place.
I just wanted to eat and sleep. That's it.
And here it is: wind, rain, storm - who knows what else. I walked to the town hall - that patch under the balcony looked very appealing yet a night on a concrete - did not. Two camper cars where standing in the parking lot right here. There were three birch trees too. I considered the possibility to sleep under them, however there was not enough space for the tent. So I walked. Walked back the way I came. I saw a lot of buildings and hoped that at least one of them would not be fenced. Wrong again. Another possibility - walk back till the forest and sleep there. Not a bad choice, but - a lot of way to go back. It was dark already. I usually set my tent around 21:00. The wind was still heavy, the sky was still dark, but the rain did not came. I started to wonder if it waited for me to settle.
Eventually I went to the vineyard as I saw some trees there. I just hoped not to get caught by the owner as I felt it would upset him. The trees were encircled with low fence. It was cherries and plums. I was not about to pick them from trees (that would be way too disrespectful for the owner, whose ground I am already intruding), but did find few edible ones on the ground - juicy and sweet. I set the tent, used the tent's ropes to tie the raincoat on the top of the tent that was set up under the berry trees. The sky was dark: raging from black to dark grey with some lighter edges of the clouds. After drinking and eating half the of chicken filet, and massaging both my feet and legs, I was managed to enjoy the town (most probably Reims) lights that were somewhere far-far-away. It was strange to see such a big evidence of human presence at night - I already have forgotten what it looked like.

                       

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