The French military cemetery "Bois de Maettlé", in Sondernach, Alsace, is one of eight French national cemeteries in the department of Upper-Rhine.
Entrance of the French Military Cemetery "Bois de Maettlé", Sondernach, October 2015 © Emmanuelle Chaze |
Together, they're the resting place of 13 350 soldiers who lost their lives during the two World Wars in the Alsace Region.
11 860 of these soldiers were French men who lost their lives during the 1914-1918 conflict. 78 "Allied" soldiers (mostly Russians and Czechs) are buried with them.
1412 French soldiers who lost their lives during 1939-1945 are buried there.
Grave of an unknown soldier, Bois de Maettlé cemetery, October 2015 ©Emmanuelle Chaze |
The "Bois de Maettlé" cemetery is the final resting place of 369 of these soldiers, who mostly died in 1915.
The soldiers buried there belonged to the following regiments:
- the Infantry Regiments 106, 152*, 167, 208, 213, 215, 297, 320, and 371,
- the Territorial Infantry Regiments 43, 47, 50 and 81,
- the Bataillons of Chasseurs 3, 5, 6, 7, 15, 24, 27, 28, 30, 46, 47, 53, 64, 67 and 68,
- the Train Squadron 8,
- the Combat Engineer Regiment 4.
These men lost their lives during the battles of the Hartmannswillerkopf (now "Vieil Armand"), which occurred between January, 19th, and December, 22nd, 1915. Nearly 30 000 soldiers lost their lives during the fights.
* The 152nd Infantry Regiment was created during the French Revolution, in 1794. The Regiment is stationed in Colmar. During World War One's battles, its soldiers had been nicknamed "Red Devils" by their German opponents. This appellation remains and their motto is "Do not endure!".
The only WW2-related grave of Maettlé's cemetery stands out near the entrance. It is that of a soldier of the Free French Forces, Henri Stuckert, killed on November 18th, 1944.
Grave of Henri Stuckert (d. 18.11.1944), October 2015 © Emmanuelle Chaze |
In October 1870, French poet Arthur Rimbaud, then aged 16, wrote a poem which seems to suit the atmosphere of the military necropoles:
The Sleeper of the Vale
It’s a green hollow, where a river is singing
Crazily hanging on the grasses rags
Of silver; where the sun, from the proud mountain,
Is shining: it’s a little valley bubbling with sunlight.
A young soldier, his mouth open, his head bare,
And the nape of his neck bathing in cool blue watercress,
Is sleeping; he is stretched out on the grass, under the skies,
Pale in his green bed where the light falls like rain.
Feet in the gladiolas, he is sleeping.Smiling like
A sick child would smile, he takes a nap:
Nature, rock him warmly: he is cold.
Fragrances do not make his nostrils quiver;
He sleeps in the sun, hand on the breast,
Peacefully. He has two red holes in his right side.
Crazily hanging on the grasses rags
Of silver; where the sun, from the proud mountain,
Is shining: it’s a little valley bubbling with sunlight.
A young soldier, his mouth open, his head bare,
And the nape of his neck bathing in cool blue watercress,
Is sleeping; he is stretched out on the grass, under the skies,
Pale in his green bed where the light falls like rain.
Feet in the gladiolas, he is sleeping.Smiling like
A sick child would smile, he takes a nap:
Nature, rock him warmly: he is cold.
Fragrances do not make his nostrils quiver;
He sleeps in the sun, hand on the breast,
Peacefully. He has two red holes in his right side.