France

On to the sea to small towns and Dunkirk. We were there only overnight and did some walking on the main streets and along the waterfront. High white chalk cliffs (like the white cliffs of Dover) on either end of the beach which provides the entrance to a big harbor. Now, I get to tell about the most satisfying days of successes. We were looking for 2 graves from WW1, The Great War....fallen soldiers from my McKee and Black families.

The first place we went to was a memorial in Ais Noulette, France. Here we found the grave of my mother's uncle, John McLean Black. He was a gunner, 318912 in the Canadian Field Artillery. Died on October 27th, 1917 at age 26. The tradition for this war was to bury the soldiers where they fell. John was born in Orillia, Ontario, Canada and enlisted in the war in Vancouver, B.C. There is a rose bush planted next to his grave. He had a girlfriend back home whom the Black family loved. Her name was Hannah. His sister Anna Louise (Lou, my grandmother) named her only son of six children, John Hannah Black who died in the next war. His story will be told when we reach England where he is buried. I wrote a note to John McLean Black...from his great niece, telling him about a few things that happened since he left us and that our family cared and would not forget... and put it into an envelope leaving it leaning against his gravestone. (Note to Peter, John and Lannie: Close by in the graveyard I came upon a headstone inscribed Private C.W. Bogardus, 675972, 2nd battalion Canadian Infantry, died April 12th, 1917. Any relation?)

David has taken pictures so it is archived. On the way to look for the second grave we stopped at Vimy Ridge., a most amazing memorial to the Canadians who fell there. The Germans and the Canadians were only 30 meters apart in bunkers and tunnels. The Germans held that important ridge from 1914 to 1918 when after much planning and practising the Canadians won the ridge, but not without the death of 3,600 boys. We took a tour through German and Canadian bunkers and an underground tunnel. On the day the Canadians broke through the lines, the men were sitting in the tunnel waiting in the mud and muck, being given whiskey and a hot meal. There were also primitive bedrooms for officers and runners and a communications room and a mess hall for officers. I felt like I was right with them. Almost in tears. We then went to the huge and powerful memorial sculpture which represented the Canadians and the French. This morning we found the grave of my grandmother's brother. A.S. MacKenzie. My brother Drew has his name, Sinclair. Andrew George Sinclair McKee. We were given all the information we needed from cousin Craig and Louise Stuart. Near a beautiful town on a hill, Monchy-le-Preux, is the Windmill British Cemetery. Information from Craig: " He was in the Canadian 3rd division in the 3rd Machine gun battalion and had made it through most of WW 1 before being killed August 28th, 1918.

Our grandmother, Elsie MacKenzie's sister Margaret, was with him when he died in a military forward hospital. She was a nurse serving overseas. She had qualified as a medical doctor along with four other Prince Edward Island females (quite remarkable back then!)." David and I saw Margaret's house...(locally known as the doctor's house) when we were on Prince Edward Island a few years ago. I also wrote a card to this great uncle in thanks and sadness for the life he did not get to live. All this searching and wandering has been much more successful than I imagined. Each cemetery is kept up well, financed by the commonwealth and Canadians. The paths are beautifully maintained as is the lawn around the headstones. There is always a register available so that you can find the soldier's grave. Quite impressive. The experience deeply impacted me. In the next few days ze zent to Le Treport, through Dieppe and into the country to small villages and lovely countryside.

I have learned to program the GPS for smaller towns that offer quiet beauty and interesting sites/sights. Most of the coastal towns have promenades along sea walls. All have fresh baggettes! In one of these towns I left my key in the car door! Luckily an honest person came by and put the key on top of a tire. Crossing a new white bridge over the Seine, we came to Honfleur. Don't miss this one. A city intact, unspoiled by bombs. Narrow streets to wander, colorful boats and sails in the harbor, peeked into a gallery filled with works of Jean Miro. Another is Deauville. Wealthy people in stunning old stone homes. Lovely sand beaches all along the coast: The same beaches of D-Day.

More to come on the D-Day beaches.

Just some general comments on other things:

> Our delicious meals consist of fresh bread, cucumbers and tomatoes, sausage, ham or other, cheese, fruit and wine of course. Seldom do we eat at a restaurant. There does not seem a need.

> We have come across some large gaudy outdoor malls with stores even bigger than ours and indoor malls just like ours.

>We are very happy to have our fold-down toilet with us! No one really knows what is going on inside this van!

> WE REALLY ARE HAVING AN AMAZING TIME! If ever we thought that we might be doing something stupid we were totally wrong. Nothing was ever so right!