The Memorials of Eastern France: Damage and Destruction

By Emma Login · Originally published November 2017 · pp. 18–19

War memorials by their very nature are intended to represent permanence. They are constructed in order that the individuals or events they symbolise should be remembered and passed down through the generations. Monumental memorials in particular, crafted from durable materials such as bronze or stone, are intended to provide a reassurance that although times may change and those responsible for their construction will pass, the memory of those they commemorate will live on. This permanence is deceptive and it is their seemingly impenetrable nature that can make memorials a target for damage and destruction. On the monumental stage, the strength needed to remove the object becomes symbolic of the strength of conviction against the cause it signifies. As Nelson and Olin point out, monuments are mortal and are as susceptible to harm as the individuals they represent (Nelson & Olin 2003; 205). Present day damage and destruction of Confederate monuments has aptly demonstrated this point. Such destruction has a long history and nowhere is the mortality of monuments more evident than along the Franco-German border. For well over 100 years, as the region passed between French and German control, the memorials constructed to the conflicts that have dominated this region have been adapted, appropriated, and in some cases obliterated. The wide spread construction of memorials in this region began in the 1870s following the devastating defeat of France in the Franco-Prussian War. Although perhaps not immediately apparent, many parallels can be drawn between the American Civil War and the Franco-Prussian War, particularly that part which was fought along the eastern border of France. Not only was the devastation for France equally as crushing as that of the Confederacy, but it was a conflict that, particularly in the border regions, saw men from the same village or even from the same family fighting in opposing forces. The eastern borders had always held a distinct local identity and particularly in the Alsace regional identity was felt more strongly than ties to either Prussia or France. As a result loyalties were often divided. The Franco-Prussian War, like the Civil War, brought about huge upheavals at the national level, establishing both the German Empire and the French Third Republic. It was also the first conflict in which commemoration of the common solider on a large scale and the use of the bravery of the common soldier to construct a narrative which overwrites that of defeat and difficult political circumstances. France had hastily declared war on July 19, 1870, in reaction to Prussian efforts to place a Hohenzollern king on the Spanish throne. Less than ten months later, they were faced with the crushing reality that they had not only failed to win the war but had failed to win a single battle. The defeat was humiliating, and the Treaty of Frankfurt that followed not only resulted in an indemnity of five million francs but the Prussian annexation of the French provinces of Alsace and half of Lorraine, including the city of Metz. In order to embed itself into the newly acquired territory, Germany undertook a programme of rapid Germanification that crossed all spectrums of social and political life (Hamman 2009). To consolidate the physical appropriation of the region an ambitious programme of monumental construction was undertaken and statues were erected throughout the towns and cities of the annexed provinces. Metz became home to many reminders of the German victory, including a large equestrian statue of Kaiser Wilhelm I, colossal bronzes of Prince Friedrich Karl, and of humble German soldiers. Villages and battlefields surrounding Metz did not escape this Germanification through memorialisation. At the village of Rezonville a monumental memorial bench with phoenix feet was constructed to commemorate the spot where Kaiser Wilhelm, on passing through the village, had rested on a ladder supported by a dead horse; a large bronze plaque on the monument depicted the scene. In the countryside just outside Vionville, a large memorial was constructed to the German infantry units that fought in the region. To add further insult to those French who had chosen to remain in the region, the memorial symbolically depicted the German victory as a lion victoriously trampling the French flag. Although not all were so triumphant in their iconography, many prominently displayed symbols of the German Empire to make it clear that this was now German territory. Less than 50 years after the end of the Franco-Prussian War, France once again found itself at war with Germany. After the devastating First World War, in which France lost over a million men, the annexed territories of Alsace and Lorraine were returned. The reintegration of these regions following their return to France in 1918 was, however, predictably problematic. As historian Laird Boswell suggests ‘squaring the myth of a patriotic AlsaceLorraine faithfully waiting for destruction, this symbolic toppling of the German nation went one step further when a temporary memorial statue depicting an ordinary French poilu was erected on the empty pedestal. The retention of the base, rather than complete destruction, gave a clear symbolic message that the French Republican values represented by the common solider replaced the German Imperialist ones represented by Kaiser Wilhelm. Thus the act of incomplete destruction became more powerful in the immediate aftermath of the conflict than if the monument had been completely erased. The provisional statue was eventually removed and the pedestal destroyed. Yet the re-appropriation of the memorial space did not end with this act, and the location was chosen for one of Metz’s new French First World War memorials. The understanding of this new memorial was based upon the assumption that viewers would remember what once stood in its place. For those unable to read the signs and understand the significance of the location, postcards were produced which depicted the before (Wilhelm) and after (1918 French memorial). Memorials in battlefield villages surrounding Metz also became targets for this reassertion of French identity. In Rezonville, the memorial bench dedicated to Kaiser Wilhelm’s presence on the battlefield was reduced until only the feet of the two phoenixes at its base remained. Yet the phoenix feet did remain and are indeed still visible today as a reminder of the presence of what was there before. They can perhaps now be seen, not as part of a German memorial but as a monument to France, rising like a phoenix from the ashes of the Franco-Prussian war. On the battlefield at Vionville the lion memorial was also destroyed until only the base remained. In its place, a French memorial was constructed to the ‘Officiers et Soldats Francais Tombes Sur le Champ de Bataille de Vionville le 16 Aout 1870.’ This symbolic appropriation of German memorials played an important role in the reintegration of the region. The presence of the earlier monument could have been erased through its complete destruction. That the base was preserved and re-appropriated to create a new French memorial resulted in a monument that had multiple meanings available to viewers at the time. The new memorial not only signified the French dead from the Battle of Vionville but also the French victory in the First World War and its subsequent retrieval of the provinces of Alsace and Lorraine. The use of the German base, which continues to carry the signs of destruction, played a key role in the meaning of the new French memorial. It is clear that those viewing the memorials at the end of the First World War did not see monuments to the bravery of those who fought on the battlefields of the Franco-Prussian War, but instead saw symbols of nearly fifty years of annexation and German rule. Yet, there were distinctions drawn between the monumental bronzes that glorified the German Empire and those that marked the deaths of the ordinary German solider. When asked what to do regarding the numerous German memorials that littered the region, the Minister of the Interior suggested that it would be appropriate to eliminate reminders of the occupation that might be offensive to French sentiments, yet he made clear that a distinction must be made between memorials that were purely monumental and those marking graves. In an attempt to neutralize the power of these monuments as national symbols, whilst preserving their function as war memorials, all nationalist iconography was eradicated. As a result memorials across battlefields of the Franco-Prussian War had their German eagles chipped off, Prussian soldiers torn down, and German insignia removed. The names of those who fell and their graves were carefully preserved. After the return of the annexed territories a new wave of commemoration swept the towns and villages of the region. As we have heard, in some cases existing German Franco- Prussian War memorials were appropriated as French First World War memorials in order to give an added layer of meaning to their significance. Whilst not all incorporated existing German memorials into their fabric many drew heavily upon narratives of revenge and were keen to demonstrate the German defeat. The most striking example of this is the memorial to the First World War dead in Metz. Here, a large monumental memorial was constructed adjacent to the German military barracks and framed by the Porte Serpenoise. This memorial did not focus on republican ideals; instead it was purely triumphalist in nature. The monument featured a dead eagle, symbolising the German defeat and bore the inscription: ‘A la gloire des armées de la République, aux champions du droit at de la liberté, la Ville de Metz et la Lorraine en souvenir de leur deliverance. -27 octobre 1870 – 10 novembre 1918’ Not only does this demonstrate continued anti-Germanic feeling but also shows an attempt to create a continuity in the collective memory of the conflicts. By setting the dates of the conflict as 1870-1918 the defeat of 1871 is effectively eliminated, and the narrative of this region can be read as a continuous struggle against German oppression rather than defeat. First World War memorials, like their Franco-Prussian predecessors, were continuing to be used in a conscious effort to recast the memory of the conflict. But, just as today, the appropriateness of memorials was questioned in a context of ever changing socio-political circumstances, such heavily revenge driven memorials began to take on new meanings as the likeliness of a second conflict with Germany increased. A monumental memorial depicting a crushed German eagle grew increasingly inappropriate as tensions with Germany grew. As a result in 1932, only ten years after construction of the initial First World War memorial, a second memorial was built, only meters from the original. This war memorial was of a completely different nature. Rather than focusing on the destruction of German forces, it instead showed scenes of liberation. The memorial’s high relief panels depicted two uniformed liberators standing on either side of a grieving family. Central to the monument’s meaning was a colossal sculpture of a mother cradling the body of her dead son. The body is naked making it impossible to distinguish if he is French or German. This is in stark contrast to the earlier triumphal memorial which made it explicitly clear who was worthy of commemoration and who was not. The inscription on the new memorial ‘Aux enfants de Metz morts victimes de la guerre’ makes no distinction between the ‘children of Metz’ who fought on the French side and those who fought with the Germans. With the mother cradling the naked body of her son in her arms the monument become a pieta (Becker 2010).

When Germany occupied France during the Second World War, the monumental memorials of Alsace and Lorraine once again became a target. In Metz, the revanchist memorial with its dead German eagle was immediately destroyed. The pieta memorial however was appropriated as a memorial to the German dead; all traces of its Frenchness were removed and replaced with German inscriptions. The memorials in eastern France stand as eloquent witnesses to the conflict and political turmoil that has shaped this region. In many ways, it is precisely their damage, appropriation, and reuse that make them such fascinating testimonies to the complex histories they represent. They remind us that although memorials may seemingly signify the dead, they have multiple meanings and that these can change through time. Memorials erected in Metz to German generals and princes after the French defeat in 1870 had little to do with honouring these men. Instead they symbolised the annexation, reminding the French citizens it was now Germany who held the power. The destruction of such statues after the First World War played a key role in bringing about the reintegration of the eastern border regions and healing the wounds of annexation. Remains of some of these monuments can now be found in local museums and in this way they serve to teach new generations the history of this turbulent time. Perhaps the most poignant lesson however can be learnt from the large Pieta memorial erected in 1932 and appropriated by the German army in 1940. This monument survived the Second World War and its grieving mother still stands today, stoically cradling her dead son in her arms, reminding each new generation of the true human cost of war. Sources: Becker, A. (2010). “Les Monuments aux Morts de la Grande Guerre “ 1643-1945 L’Histoire par L’Image. Retrieved 25th August, 2017, from http://www.histoire-image.org/site/etude_comp/ etude_comp_detail.php?i=643. Hamman, P. (2009). “The Politics of Memory in Annexed Lorraine: The Conflicts between Germanification and French Stalwarts at the beginning of the 20th Century.” Journal of Historical Sociology 22(3): 312-349. Nelson, R.S., & Olin, M. (Eds.). (2003). Monuments and memory, made and unmade. University of Chicago Press.